Wrapped Around Your Finger by Alison Tyler Review & Free Excerpt
By Cammies on the Floor
Wrapped Around Your Finger by Alison Tyler is a continuation story. I think perhaps the storyline may have been more enjoyable to me if I had read the first book and the Dom – in a new power dynamic – wasn’t so flawless.
It is about a submissive named Samantha more fully understanding and coming to terms with the wants of her Dom, Jack. The story takes place over seven days, in which time Jack creatively tests and pushes her boundaries. It involves BDSM – with an emphasis on spanking – and sex. It also includes bisexuality and envy.
I’m conflicted about Wrapped Around Your Finger by Alison Tyler. I enjoyed the fun-loving way that the author creates her main character’s perspective, and the way that she uses easy to read language. She really dives into a dynamic submissive’s mind with hilarious and thoughtful viewpoints. Perhaps it is because of this one-sided perspective that her Dom can do no wrong – we are seeing him through only her love/lust eyes. There were also some sexy moments that seriously turned me on.
However, it stretched too far from the everyday for me with a common formula I’m a bit tired of reading from in erotica. It’s the standard story of a rich guy spoiling a female character, of which she has no real responsibilities and can just take off for every whim he has. He seems to know her every thought, even states that he knows her better than she knows herself, her desires, and how to seamlessly press her boundaries; and he can also do this with another male at the same time flawlessly. Everything he does is for a well-orchestrated reason and to teach Samantha (and the other man, Alex) a lesson.
There was a brief moment in the middle of Wrapped Around Your Finger by Alison Tyler where I thought that the characters were going to slip from perfection and be human, but sadly the main character miraculously knew exactly what to do to continue the perfect scene.
Overall, this book is worth reading, as Alison Tyler is a gifted writer and her main character is a delight to read. The BDSM and sex scenes are hot. If fiction is meant to take someone away from the everyday responsibilities and worries, then this book is a great way to suspend reality for a bit.
– Cammies on the Floor
Free Excerpt from Wrapped Around Your Finger by Alison Tyler
From Chapter 13: Seven Days
I had to bother Jack.
“What about this?” was my next query, pushing his limits, pushing the levels of taste, to be perfectly honest. I was now in a pair of buttery-soft scarlet leather pants and a long-sleeved cream-colored shirt, which should have been worn over a camisole or at least a bra, but which I had on over my bare skin so that my breasts were visible through the thin fabric. “Could I wear this?” I was trying to get a rise out of him, and unfortunately—or fortunately depending on how you look at the situation—it worked.
Jack set down his papers, and I read the expression on his face. If my fairy godmother had appeared and granted me one solitary wish, I wouldn’t have gone for money or fame or world fucking peace. I would have taken back the last interruption. I’d pushed him too far.
“Listen,” he said, his voice low and even. “I have to call Michael and go over these notes. And then, little filly, I’m going to spank that ass of yours until it’s as red as those leather pants.” His tone didn’t change as he continued his speech. “And every night this week, after I’m finished with work, I am going to spank that ass of yours, just as firmly and as seriously as I’m going to tonight. You can count on it. When you wake up in the morning, the first thing you’ll think about is the way I’m going to punish you each and every day.”
And then he went to make the call, dismissing me while I stood in the living room. Not sure what to do. Where to go. What to say. He’d tell me in moments, I knew. He’d explain exactly how he wanted me. Exactly how to proceed. But for now, I was even twitchier than I had been before. Pressing him for attention, fighting to be noticed. Why had I done this? Why hadn’t I been patient and behaved for Jack? Because that’s not my nature. Being good never has gotten me what I desire.
I forced myself to sit on the sofa, lifting his near-empty glass and draining the last few sharp drops of whiskey. I crossed my legs, then uncrossed them. Was this what I’d been after the whole time?
I could try to decipher the rationale behind my behavior, or I could fantasize about what Jack was going to do when he got off the phone. As might be expected, I chose the latter. There was no way he’d let me keep on those choice leather slacks. That was for certain. The material was well tanned and thin, but would offer far too much protection to my haughty ass. Would he spank me here, in the living room, or maybe out on the patio, or…
“Get in the bedroom.” Jack had returned before I’d had time to fully prepare. I hurried to obey his command, nearly tripping over myself. Jack followed behind me, slowly, and I was waiting for him, seated on the edge of the bed and nervous as all hell, when he arrived.
“I was planning on taking things easy on you this week,” he said, his words almost sounding like a confession. “But I guess you need something else. Some sort of proof of my affection.” His eyes glowed. “So while I was walking down the hall, I developed a plan.” My heart— oh, my heart—was pounding at his words. “Tonight,
Sam, we’ll start a seven-day regimen. Strip down and put on your white nightgown.” He stayed in the room, watching me peel out of the leather pants and lose the creamy blouse, then rummage for the nightie he was talking about, antique white, voluminous, like something from the early 1900s.
“Over my lap,” he said, and I hurried to his side, draping myself into proper position, then waiting, still, while he slowly lifted the nightgown, revealing my naked skin.
His hand was all he used this night. Firm, hard, unyielding. His hand was all he needed to make me press down on his lap, trying to gain contact with my clit on his knee. His hand was all it took to show me that he hadn’t forgotten about me, hadn’t chosen to disregard my constant yearning for his attention.
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