Hot Lessons

By Annie Windsor

The first novel in the Dungeon Heat series, Annie Windsor takes readers on an impassioned and erotic journey, as lovers Celia and Alan discover the pleasures of BDSM…Headstrong Professor Celia Lambert wants nothing more than to find the erotic release she so craves in the hands of a master Dom. All she really wants is to lose control for just one night…Her lover, Alan Sparks, would love to give Celia what she wants. And when they begin experimenting with domination and submission, Alan realizes he might have what it takes to turn Celia into the ultimate submissive…so he enlists the help of Reginald Blackmoor, the chair of Celia’s history department and owner of The Blackmoor Downs, an English castle with one of the most erotic and private dungeons in the world…Reginald takes Alan under his wing and trains him in the fine art of BDSM, teaching Alan how give Celia the Dom she craves…and how to turn her into the submissive she desires. But there are caveats. Celia must be absolutely sure of everything she wants to do…and she must obey Alan without allowances.Celia agrees, eager for her chance at the ultimate pleasure…an electrifying abduction, an imaginable limo ride and a party she will never forget…and Celia’s education has only just begun…

• Language: English
• Publisher: NYLA
• Release date: Oct 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781617509025

Annie Windsor

Annie Windsor has written several very popular novels and stories for Ellora’s Cave, as well as six titles of the acclaimed paranormal series, The Dark Crescent Sisterhood for Ballantine. Annie’s a southern girl, though like most magnolias, she has steel around that soft heart. Does she have a drawl? Of course, though she’ll deny it, y’all. On a perfect day, she writes, reads, spends time with her family, chats with friends and hopes she discovers nothing torn, eaten or trampled by her beloved puppies or crafty kitties.

Book preview

Windsor

Dedication:

This book owes debts of gratitude to Patti Duplantis, Crystal Scott, Master Nage, Eclectic Electric at www.violetwands.net and most especially Sire Don of www.sdleather-lace.com, who helped make sure I didn’t do anything too—er—shocking. After Sire Don’s brilliant and intriguing description, I truly believe several hundred dollars might be cheap for the glowing toy depicted in this book!

Chapter 1

Blackmoor Downs.

Just the name of the castle gave her chills.

Celia Lambert wanted to see the place, not just visit it—she wanted to explore the mystery, dig around every stone until she uncovered its hidden rooms. Well, one hidden room in particular.

If the whispered stories were true, Blackmoor Downs, an actual English castle transplanted to John’s River, Tennessee, had one hell of a secret.

A dungeon. A very special kind of modern, kinky dungeon, if the rumors could be believed.

Reginald Blackmoor was the most eccentric man Celia Lambert had ever met. He was older, very British, and incredibly sophisticated. He also happened to be her boss in the history department at John’s River College, which made Celia wonder if she had absolutely lost her mind.

All of a sudden, Reggie’s ornate academic office felt too small. The shelves of books seemed to close in around her, and the remnant scent of cherry pipe tobacco overwhelmed her.

Steady. Alan Sparks shifted in the chair beside hers and took her hand. The feel of his powerful grip, the smoldering look in his bright blue eyes, and the thought of what they might accomplish today—these things helped Celia buck up enough to stay in her seat. For the moment.

What if it’s all speculation? she murmured. What if he just throws us out and tries to get me fired?

You know him better than that. Alan let go of her fingers and put his hand on her leg, just below her tight power skirt. The black fabric slid up as he pushed, revealing her bare thigh.

Stop. What if he comes in? Celia tried to nudge Alan, but he only grinned and slid his hand under the skirt’s firm hem.

Always pushing limits. Always taking it to the edge. That was Alan. She had sensed that about him the day he took his position at John’s River. They had been dating for a few months, and there was a lot more to the big blond hunk of mathematician than quadratic equations and matrices, thank God. Still, he made her a little nervous. That’s why she hadn’t let him take her too far with their bondage play. She trusted him in so many ways, but….

But total trust wasn’t Celia’s strong suit. Neither was throwing caution out the window, even when she was fairly sure she was safe. Just once, she wanted to turn loose sexually, to really let go and experience total submission, total pleasure, freedom from all her worries—from every last thing that held her back. She’d let Alan push her farther than any lover, and she knew he wanted take the next step. Hell, she wanted to take the next step, too, whatever it was, but in the end, she always panicked.

She felt like they needed help. Maybe some training.

They had looked through internet ads, checked out some clubs in Nashville, even read books. Each experience taught them something, but Celia just couldn’t bring herself to plunge ahead under the direction of strangers or printed words. She knew Alan was frustrated with her hesitance, but she still felt like they—he—needed a little guidance.

His hand, however, needed no guidance at all as it slid higher, higher, inching toward her already-drenched bikini underwear. Her nipples hardened and she gripped the arms of one of Reggie’s heavy oak office chairs.

Alan, cut it out. I’m serious.

No, you’re not serious. You’re wet. He flashed her one of his devastating grins. You should be more honest about what you want. Less reserved.

Almost casually, without shifting in his chair or looking at her, he pulled the soaked strip of silk and cotton to the side, baring her pussy. Celia gasped. She knew her face had to be turning redder than her hair. Damn, she needed to smack him, make him stop before Reggie caught them fondling each other in his office—but it felt so naughty.

So good.

I bet I could surprise you, Celia. I could teach you a few things. Still casual, without changing his position, Alan thrust two fingers down, parting her swollen lips and trapping her clit.

Celia rocked backward from the shock. Her nipples pressed harder against the white silk of her bra and blouse, and she shoved herself up, into the pain of his tight squeeze on her clit, before she could think.

Grinning wider, Alan rolled her clit between his fingers, half-pinching, half-stroking. I could lock the door and fuck you on his desk.

Stop it.

Or bend you over that leather couch and ram my cock as deep as you can take it.

Alan— Her eyes were closed, seeing the fantasies. This man, what he did to her. What he was doing to her! Shit, that door wasn’t locked and Alan had her skirt up, had the red curls of her pussy exposed, and he was rubbing her clit hard. And fast. And faster. Making her moan. Making her need more.

She realized she was bucking against his strokes.

Sweat broke across her forehead.

Each noise in the hallway outside made her jump, doubling the sensation. Fear. Need. Shame. Excitement. The tides broke across her all at once, making