A Taste of Submission: The Good Indian Girl

A Taste of Submission: The Good Indian Girl

About the book...

A good girl wouldn't sleep with an older man; a good girl shouldn't sleep with a married man… a good Indian girl couldn't possibly sleep with anybody before he's put a ring on her finger - right? I don't think so.

For Leni, it's finally time to take the plunge, to shatter the rules that have dictated and confined her desires for so long and kept her from experiencing a taste of what she craves, so desperately – a taste of submission.

Written from the genuine perspective of an inexperienced Submissive, Leni's first Taste of Submission will carry you blissfully through the angst, thrills, and sentiments of that oh so delicious first encounter.

A Steamy Excerpt:

As I made my way into the corner of the room, next to the curtain-concealed window, I was almost certain that Sir would be able to hear the thudding in my chest. My head was clouded, as though I was being held underwater. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks - painting them with a warm, rose blush. I pressed my hands against the wall to steady myself, taking deep, quivering breaths as I eagerly anticipated Sir’s return to me. Ears pricked, I tried hard to piece together his actions from the succession of subtle noises coming from behind me.

His arms swept around me; hands snaking over every curve, firmly and thoroughly. I resisted the urge to squirm and pull away, giving myself a chance to adjust to the new sensations I was feeling.

I closed my eyes and in the solace of darkness, I allowed myself to make sense of my wrenching emotions. The longing between my thighs burned steadily – the sweet scent of my arousal filled the air between us and intoxicated both of our senses. Until this moment, our connection had been nothing more than mere words. I had told Sir that my body was his – he had told me that I was his property. And now, under the dim yellow lighting of the Travel Inn tube light, I was starting to understand the significance of those words.

I pressed my shaking body back until I felt Sir’s sturdy figure behind me. As I leaned back, he took the weight of my body with ease, supporting me fully. A half-smile formed on my lips as my ass began to grind with desire and confidence. And in a matter of seconds, my entire body weakened to his touch. His hot mouth kissed down my slender neck and his fingers entwined around a fistful of my hair, releasing a burst of white peach and jasmine into the narrow gap that separated us.

“Kiss me, Sir. Please…” the desperation in my voice surprised me. I tried to turn my head towards him but his grip was immovable. A sharp thwack hit my left cheek, knocking the desperation from my voice, with a loud yelp.

“Face the wall, Sub. Don’t move.” I panted softly - trying to regain control of my breathing. “Hands on your head,” he added curtly, once he was further away from my corner, as he unzipped a bag and began rustling. I obliged immediately - locking my fingers behind my head, as instructed. Submitting, in practice, took far more control than I had imagined - to fight the urge to turn around and to blindly follow Sir's instruction took a lot…