Tantalizing Guest Blogger Tamsin Flowers Talks Money Shot and Paris!!!

It’s a huge pleasure to be here on F.’s blog today as she’s one of my favorite people in the erotica writing community—unstintingly supportive and charming beyond measure. She’s invited me over to celebrate the publication of a new story of mine in Money Shot, a new big-box bundle from Excite Spice.

The thing is, I knew from the start that F. would love this story. That’s not me being cocky—I knew she’d love Scaling the Heights because of its setting. She’s made no secret of the fact that she absolutely adores Paris, so I knew that a slice of Parisian erotica featuring two of the most iconic sites in the City of Lights would immediately appeal.

I have to say, I love Paris too. I first went there on my first grown-up holiday with my first boyfriend, and I’ve been back I don’t know how many times since. It’s the most romantic city I know, knocking Venice out of the water for my money and beating Marrakesh, Vienna, Amsterdam or any other city you care to mention. What is it about Paris that captivates? Je ne sais quois! The food, the wine, the architecture, obviously. A whiff of Gauloises on the street, that particular French shrug of the shoulder… I don’t know but I can’t get enough of it.

“The guidebook says that to truly know a city you must plumb its depths and scale its heights,” said Thomas. “I think that holds true of people, too. Plumb their depths to scale their heights…”

So what’s the story? On a luxurious trip to Paris, Roisin discovers her new billionaire boyfriend is a Dominant and wants her to be his sub. It’s a world she knows nothing about and after her first taste of punishment, she’s not sure it’s a role she wants to embrace. But Thomas is irresistible and she’s caught in his thrall like a startled deer caught in headlights. Can he prove to her that the pleasure is worth the pain on a trip to one of the city’s most iconic sites?

Excerpt

“The most important rule for you to remember,” he murmured, popping an oyster into my mouth, “is that I now control when and where you come. You are expressly forbidden from coming without my permission. Even when we’re away from each other.”
His wicked smile caused a tightening of muscles I didn’t even know I had and, as I shifted position, I could feel a slick of hot juices sticking me to my coat. We were sitting side by side, facing the extraordinary view, but the pressure of one of his fingers running up the outside of my thigh was doing more to play havoc with my breathing than the fabulous location.
“You have to earn every orgasm through good behavior.”
“But I…”
Underneath the table, his hand pushed the soft black fabric up my leg. I leaned back with my head against the banquette. I couldn’t fight the sensations he was stirring in me. Fingers grazing the soft skin on the inside of my thigh. My mouth drooped open, slack with longing. My eyes were closed. Who needed a view across Paris when the fireworks were all internal?
“Don’t. You. Dare.” There was menace in his voice that carried the threat of punishment.
I wanted to push his hand away because that might be the only way to prevent myself from coming right there in a busy restaurant. But I couldn’t. I was like a startled deer in the glare of the poacher’s headlamps. Thomas had me presumably where he wanted me—wanting him, wanting this to never end. Hardly caring that we were in public, that a waiter might approach us at any moment to pour some more wine or clear our plates.
I gasped at a sudden freezing sensation pushing up into the cleft between my legs, high up into my pussy.
“An ice cube?” The shock brought me suddenly to attention.
Thomas laughed as I rifled under my serviette to retrieve it.
“You needed cooling down a little.”
I opened my mouth to speak but he put a finger up to seal my lips.
“You’ve got to earn your pleasures. Don’t be a naughty girl.”
Licking chocolate dacquoise off his fingers didn’t help either. I felt so charged, so needy. Before Paris, before Thomas, I had no idea someone could set me alight like this, and I was astonished at his power over me.
“Come on,” he said, when the waiter had cleared our coffee cups away. “Let’s go outside and get acquainted with that view.”
On the restaurant’s terrace, the cool air felt like a salve and, as we savored the city from the second level of the tower, I wondered with some trepidation what the rest of the evening held in store. I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to be his submissive after the previous night’s experience. But, this evening in the restaurant, I’d never felt so sexy or so turned on. I couldn’t bear the thought of not finding out how high Thomas could take me. Through the fine fabric of the trench I felt his hand skimming my buttocks. My stomach flipped and I turned to face him so he could read the need in my face.
“Come,” he said.
He led me over to where the elevators left for the top level of the tower, another five hundred feet above us. After a couple of minutes, the lift doors opened in front of us and he ushered me into the small glass car. A woman made a move to join us but Thomas barred her way with his arm.
“Please take the next elevator,” he said.
She frowned at him but stepped back. The doors slid shut and, with a sound of grinding gears, we started to climb slowly into the night sky.
“Now we scale the heights,” said Thomas, tugging at the belt of my coat. “I’ve got precisely one minute and forty seconds until we reach the top. One minute and forty seconds to make you come.”