Erotic Author Spotlight Series: Natalie Dae

Natalie Dae: Erotic Author

This week, it’s the turn of Totally Bound writer Natalie Dae to step into the erotic author spotlight and be featured here at Cara Sutra. Find out more about this lovely author, and enjoy a few of her sizzling hot excerpts, in her feature below.

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If you’d like to read about other erotic authors you can find the Erotic Author Spotlight Series here. Erotic author and interested in your own free feature post at Cara Sutra? Find the call for submissions page here.

I run a similar free promotional offer for sex bloggers and sex toy reviewers. You can find the Sex Blogger Spotlight Series page here, and the call for submissions (the Q&A and other info to send me) here.

Email me at cara@carasutra.co.uk with your info – whether author or blogger – and I will reply with your spotlight date. This will be the next available Monday for authors and the next available Thursday for bloggers.

– Cara Sutra

Natalie Dae

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I’ve had a few pen names in my time, but the main ones I write under are Natalie Dae (mainly BDSM M/F) and Sarah Masters (usually angsty M/M—stories that deal with the harsh realities of life instead of sweeping them under the carpet while at the same time having a happy ending/hope for the future). I also write as Geraldine O’Hara, although her books are mainly light-hearted comedy and I have to be in the right frame of mind to write those—hence why there aren’t many titles haha! I also write as one half of Harlem Dae with my brilliant BFF Lily Harlem.

In 2016 I plan to only write books that won’t stop yabbering to me in my head. In the past I’ve written to order, or for deadlines—I could have said no but didn’t!—and when I handed in my last deadline book in 2015, the relief was immense. I don’t do well with deadlines—they tend to squash my creativity—so 2016 is definitely going to be The Year of Freedom, where I write what I want, when I want. I’m looking forward to seeing where that takes me.

Erotic Writing

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Denial Blurb:

Her heart had been broken. How could it ever be mended?

Sometimes life has a habit of breaking a person, but Lori’s discovered there’s a reason for it. Better things are around the corner. She didn’t realize that at first, but after things went sour, a light beckoned, an anchor in the form of a man named Jaska.

He ignites her soul, understands her needs more than she does. She embarks on a journey, one that has many twists and turns, and with Jaska guiding her, she doesn’t think it can go wrong. Except there are terms to their relationship, a contract they’re bound by, and no matter what, they’re not supposed to express how they feel about each other. It’s dangerous—falling in love isn’t allowed.

But Lori has fallen in love, and the year Jaska has given to teach her the ways of the lifestyle is both pain and pleasure—and not only from spankings. It’s pain—she loves him but can’t express it. It’s pleasure—she gets to spend time with him.

Denial is the name of the game for both of them. Deny their feelings and everything will work out fine. But Lori knows that somewhere down the line during this year she’ll have to open her mouth and tell him how she feels. The question is—when?

Denial Free Excerpt:

“Pick up the two rubber items that resemble game pieces,” he said. “Those there—red. They look like two Miss Scarlets in the drawing room, minus the murder weapon.”

I reached forward to pick them up, relieved we’d gone back to normal. The toys were indeed like Miss Scarlets, only bigger.

“Squeeze the balled ends, pet.”

I obeyed. The rubber was resistant, too new for me to be able to depress the bulb ends with ease. They reminded me of squash balls wearing skirts, except the finish was shiny. I held one up and saw my reflection, skewed on the rounded surface, my mask looking freakish and out of place.

“The other ends,” he said, “do you see how they’re like cones?”

I examined them. “Yes, Sir.”

“I think you’re going to like what these toys are. What they do. You enjoy nipple friction, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then these will do the trick.”

Realization dawned, and I smiled. What a clever pair of devices.

“Now,” he said. “Be careful. The harder you squeeze the bulbs before you place the cones over your nipples determines how much they’ll suck your tits. Perhaps you’d like to try the gentle approach first.”

I squeezed them then positioned them over my nipples. Let them go.

“Or perhaps not…”

I could have laughed at that if my breath hadn’t been whipped away. A violent tugging sensation grabbed my nipples, and they grew. They seemed to be shooting outwards, into the bulbs until they were so taut they touched the uppermost point of the insides. I gasped then groaned. My cunt ached further. That…that was what I wanted, the impression that Jaska held my nipples between fingers and thumbs and pinched them as hard as he could. My buds throbbed, the toys giving the illusion my nipples were being sucked, a steady pulse that had me arching my back.

“Yes,” I hissed, clutching my thighs, digging my nails in. “Oh, God, yes. This is it. This. Is. It.

“Beautiful,” he said. “The way you’re shoving your tits out. And I can see your cunt juices. There’s a smear of wet on your chair.”

I closed my eyes, imagining what he saw and heard. Me, keening now, those keens sounding animalistic and raw. I fought the urge to stuff my fingers into my hole, to rub my clit.

But I wouldn’t give in to desire. That wasn’t part of our bargain either.

Denial was.

“Maintain control,” he said. “Breathe through it. Let yourself sit on that ledge but don’t drop over.”

It was a difficult task.

I inhaled. Exhaled. Dug my nails in harder.

“You’re going to leave marks on your thighs,” he said. “Is that what you want?”

I lifted my hands off my legs, held them mid-air.

“Just dark pink crescents,” he said.

I sagged into the chair, the torment on my nipples getting more intense by the second.

“Finger yourself,” he said. “Slide as many inside as you can. Imagine the Dom of your dreams is touching you, that the fingers of one hand is in your cunt, his mouth and other hand on your tits, sucking, pulling at your nipples.”

I imagined Jaska, knowing I was a confused, silly woman, wanting him yet trying to refute that I did. Loving the fact that he had strong feelings for me, yet scared that he had them. Wanting to throw caution to the goddamn wind and just blurt out that I needed him, that I wanted to meet him not just for one-on-one lessons but for so much more. Listening to the little voices that told me I couldn’t possibly love someone new so fast—and that he couldn’t love me either. Instant love—love at first connection—wasn’t something that I’d ever thought existed. But it did, because I felt such a strong force binding us, wrapping itself around us, making him reveal his emotions even though he’d said he wouldn’t.

And making me want to reveal mine.

I crammed four fingers into my hole then mimicked a cock going in and out. I panted, determined not to go to my beach. I’d ride this out in the present, ensuring I didn’t come, pulling this off without mind tricks. But hell, I wanted to come, wished the Dom of my dreams really was here, giving me a good seeing to.

“Stop,” he ordered. “I can’t…” His breathing was unsteady.

I stopped, my cunt screaming for me to continue, my nipples aching fiercely.

“Go and do something else, pet. Take your mind off sex. God knows I need to do the same.”

We were a right pair, weren’t we? Both denying ourselves what we really wanted.

“All right, Sir.” I stood and took off the nipple toys, almost crying out at the snap of pain. “Shall we keep the connection open or close it? I mean, do you need some distance?” I put the toys on the desk.

“Keep it open. I’ll be here when you’ve had a moment to calm down.”

“All right, Sir.”

As I walked from the room, I heard him mutter, “When I’ve had time to calm down.”

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Shadow and Darkness Blurb:

Two women, both working in a BDSM dungeon, both servicing clients to earn a living, both hoping for true love in the arms of men they’ve only ever dreamed about.

Ursula Meadows, Mistress Shadow by day, longs for the love she feels for her client, a man she’s dubbed Beautiful Luke, to be returned. As she goes through her week at work entertaining all the men on her list and giving them what they want, she spends her nights on a mission to make Luke fall in love with her.

The contrast between her daily life and her evenings is stark, but she’s determined to have the sexy-as-sin man in her bed permanently and not just on the bed in her dungeon. Will she get what her heart aches for, or will Luke, a self-confessed brawler and user of women, find it difficult to stick to just one woman?

Klara Woods, Mistress Darkness by day, is a nymphomaniac. She took a job in a BDSM dungeon as the only way she could think of to sate her huge sexual appetite. Madam allows her to give “extras”, and Klara is happy with the arrangement until she goes out one Monday evening in search of a man to fulfill her needs and meets one who wants so much more than just sex. They agree they won’t have sex until Friday, but it proves difficult for Klara. Every time they meet she can’t resist doing something sexual with him, and the wait until Friday becomes intolerable…

Along with the knowledge she may have found the only man who can service her needs full-time, Klara has to decide whether, if they make a go of their relationship, she can leave the dungeon and all her clients behind. Is her love for Ben strong enough for her to become a one-man woman? Is Ben’s stamina enough to keep Klara sated 24-7? Friday night will be the ultimate test…

Shadow and Darkness Excerpt:

I stand at the base of the bed, legs akimbo, red-polished, long-fingernailed hands upon hips. I stare at him to ensure our roles are in place. His gaze doesn’t meet mine for more than a second. He gawps at the ceiling, blinking, blinking…

“Do you want nasty talk, Luke?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I narrow my eyes. Oh, how he pushes my buttons, flouts the rules at the start. “Mistress what?”

He blinks again, rapid-fire fast. “Mistress Shadow. Sorry, so sorry, Mistress Shadow.”

Gone is the scorn he entered with. He appears frightened of me now—the man he tells me he usually is far out of reach. No bunched fists ready to fight, no mouth ready to shoot off—just a pliant customer reduced to uncertainty, rigid on the bed there with his eyes darting left to right.

“That’s better. Do you want music, fucker?”

His hands flutter beside him upon the leather, and his sweaty palms leave a wet patch for an instant before the warm air devours it. He nods, overly eager.

“What music do you want?”

“Pink,” he whispers. “Pink, Mistress Shadow.”

I flare my nostrils, pretending I don’t think about how he always has to have things the same. Perhaps it’s his way of maintaining control while outwardly giving it up to me.

“The same as last week, you predictable shit?”

Tears fill his eyes, yet he nods again, smiles. Why the tears? I’ve always wondered that about him. Is he battling with himself, angry that he needs this? Annoyed that he has to come here in secret to have his desires met—the one thing he craves, given by a woman he knows nothing about. A woman he pays. Such a shame he can’t find a partner of like mind.

Me, for instance. If only he’d ask, send out feelers to see if I’m interested. Of course, I wouldn’t jump at the chance right away. I’d make him think I needed time to ponder what he’d offered, but in the end I’d accept.

It would make my life.

My stilettos click-clack on the tiled floor. The stereo, positioned on the stainless-steel table to our right, nestles between the Tupperware boxes containing butt plugs, nipple grips, small paddles, handcuffs. Luke’s breathing labors—a staccato of exhalations—and I know without turning around what’s happened. I jab the ‘Forward’ button, select track six, press ‘Play’. The opening bars of Pink’s latest song shimmies out of the speakers—low, just loud enough to hear.

I turn to face Luke.

His impressive erection bounces, reaching just an inch below his blond-haired belly button. My, my, if I didn’t work here… Yes, he would fill me nicely, and that head—that divine, swollen, pre-cum-glistened head—would feel smooth, so smooth against my tongue.

My mouth waters.

I swallow. “And do you want me to cane your feet, imbecile?”

My heart rate soars, a surge of adrenaline infusing my body, akin to a swift shot of whisky on an empty stomach. Head giddy, I stare at him staring at the ceiling.

“Look at me, boy.”

He complies, jaw tightening, his eyes burning me with hate…hate for his predilection, hate that I’m the one who administers his punishment, hate that he can’t help himself, can’t be any other way. And he’s tried—tried to deny it—but it rules him.

“Why don’t you embrace your desires, accept them as a part of you and enjoy them? Why do you insist on hating me and loving me at the same time?”

“I-I don’t know, Mistress.”

“Mistress what?”

He widens his eyes, his penis bobs erratically, and the veins on his neck throb. He lifts one hand from the bed, hovers it over his cock. Oh, how he aches to palm it and bring himself off. The indecision is written all over his face.

He slaps his hand onto his thigh—once, twice—and squeezes the muscle on that beautiful, sexy leg. “Mistress Shadow. Please, hurry… hurry.”

I stalk to the left wall and glare at him as I go. “Are you telling me what to do, fuck-wit? Are you?” Riding crop now in hand, I swish it before me, its harshness indicated by the swoosh of displaced air. “You know how that displeases me. How the crop will bite your feet harder.” I test the crop against my leather-gloved palm and resume my position at the bottom of the bed.

Luke stares at the ceiling again, at the red up-lighter emitting a soft, almost ethereal glow. He slips his hand from his thigh, moving his fingers to pluck at the cowhide, and his cock strains, the vein pulsing, pulsing.

“Answer me, damn it!”

The crop whips the leather beside his leg, and he jumps and worries his bottom lip between perfect white teeth.

“No, Mistress Shadow. I’m not telling you what to do. Honestly. I wouldn’t… couldn’t—”

“Then shut the fuck up and do as I tell you. Lift your legs. Feet into the stirrups. Is that tight enough on your ankles?”

He shakes his head.

“Tighter?”

Nods. Smiles—his eyes tear-filled once more.

“Then let us begin.”

I lean forward and press the button that lowers the stirrups. Martin, my last client, had requested a butt-plug fuck, hence the previous stirrup height. Now, Luke’s feet hang level with my waist, the perfect position to cane his smooth size twelves, to whip the pads of his pretty toes.

“Have you been a good boy this week, Luke?” I ask because I’m curious. Each week he tells me a little more about himself, and I’ve built up a picture of his life. Where he goes, what he does, just in case I decide to… To what? Follow him? I shake the thought away.

“No, Mistress Shadow.”

I stand to the side, my back facing the instrument-riddled wall, and raise my arm. Graceful, such a graceful movement. The cane arcs through the air, slaps his insteps. Luke’s toes curl, and he brings his knees up, stirrup chains rattling with his sharp movement. A pleasure-pain yowl erupts from his mouth, and he pants, smacks his hands onto the bed, fingers twitching to grab his cock and masturbate.

He’s predictable. The session won’t last the hour.

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Lincoln’s Woman Blurb:

The Coterie is a group of vampires who wish to do good under the direction of Cormag, an ancient Scottish vamp. When their existence is threatened, Cormag will do anything to protect his kind—including culling the evil. Meet the main players—Cormag, Anstace, Lincoln and Emily. Together they make a formidable team.

Emily had no idea she would grow from a mild-mannered woman into a kick-ass vamp. No one, no one threatens her man…

Dashed into the sea during a storm, Emily is rescued by a long-haired man who immediately intrigues her. He’s…mesmerising. Sexy. Beautiful. He takes her to his home, a lighthouse on a cliff top, where her attraction to him grows. She can’t fight it, even when she realises what he is—a vampire. He offers her immortality but ensures she knows exactly what she’s letting herself in for—forever with him, as well as hot and satisfying sex…

Emily becomes his attendant, the woman destined to spend eternity with the vampire Lincoln, sharing her blood, her life, and her body. He adores her, would do anything for her, but an earlier vow not to embrace the vampire lifestyle and The Coterie’s demands leaves him sorely tested when an old adversary kidnaps Emily, bringing Lincoln’s painful past hurtling back.

Lincoln’s Woman Free Excerpt:

“If I do what I want, you’ll be with me forever,” he whispered. He lifted his head and brought a hand up to her chin, tilting her face so she looked at him. “Is that what you want?”

A flash of his essence showed in his glowing eyes, the image of who he really was. What he really was. The vision played out, the scene old-fashioned, Lincoln in another era’s clothes supping blood from a rabbit’s neck. Understanding flooded Emily. A small part of her registered that she should be frightened, should run away and never come back. She didn’t, remaining pliant and willing in his arms, wishing he would take her as he wanted and keep her with him forever.

“Please…I need…I want…” She blinked as his eyes returned to hazel, pressing herself into him, her cunt aching for his cock to fill it. “Just…just fuck me.”

Lincoln peeled off the robe, letting it drop to the floor behind her. He lifted the T-shirt over her head then threw it aside. He covered her breasts with his palms, his heated skin searing hers. Her nipples tightened and her cunt clenched in a wild rhythm, her need of him overtaking her senses. She unbuttoned his shirt, wrenching it from his body, discovering the defined muscles of his abdomen and chest. She unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock and palming it, the skin so soft, his dick hard and ready. Swirling her thumb over the tip, she massaged pre-cum over the head then fist-fucked his length with strong, swift strokes. She wished his fingers on her clit, and he placed them there as though reading her mind, his movements keeping pace with hers.

He lowered his head, teeth on her skin once more, and a spear of pain jabbed her neck. She cried out, fisting him faster, and warmth dripped down the skin of her throat. Emily clamped her lips closed and concentrated on his fragrance—woodsy and sharp and pungent—her body weakening in his strong, one-armed grip. Another aroma infiltrated the space between them—the smell of sex, raw and hot and heady, spicy and laced with want—and she inhaled, head light, legs unsteady.

Lincoln sucked her neck, and she knew in some deep, dark space inside her that he tasted her blood, that he was otherworldly, something she would usually fear, but didn’t. No, she wanted him all the more, wanted him to take what he needed and make her his.

The burn of orgasm swelled her clit further and she lifted her hips so his fingers worked her harder. Her head spun, senses shattering in all directions, disorientation claiming her, whisking her away on a cloud of lost equilibrium. She whimpered, scented the copper penny hint of her blood, and screamed as her orgasm racked her body. Still jerking him off, she bucked, his hand firmly holding the small of her back, and he lifted his head, neck tendons prominent beneath the skin. He groaned, blood staining his lips and chin, looking down at her as she gyrated.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Taste beautiful.”

His eyes glowed for a second before a shot of cum jetted onto her belly, a second spurt following, warming and erotic, the third arriving with a hoarse cry from his lips. Sagging against him, Emily gazed into his eyes. The glow receded, hazel and amber returning, and she took her hand from his cock to wipe her blood from his lips.

“Mine. I want you as mine,” he said, sucking her finger into his mouth.

Emily closed her eyes, head to his shoulder, and tried to focus on the sense of closeness and of being one with another. Weak of body but infused with strength of mind, she went limp and trusted him as he carried her upstairs and tucked her into his bed.

It was surreal. Dream-like. Yet she had felt as if she belonged for the first time in a long while.

– Natalie Dae

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