By Kim Dare.
I know an erotic romance writer should probably be jumping up and down shouting about how great lust is and how important it is and all that. I write about sex so lust should be right there at the top of my list of wonders of the world. Right?
Actually, no. I don't really think of lust on it's own as a particularly interesting thing to read or write about. Lust might be hot blooded, but I find it's also emotionally cold.
Maybe I should make myself clear here. Physical desire, sex, kink, whatever else, I'm all in favour of that. What I don't like the idea or the reality of is lust in isolation from everything else - lust without any emotion behind it.
Lust on it's own is all about getting what you want. It's about getting yourself off or getting your own way. Pure lust on it's own doesn't really allow for consideration for the other person's pleasure. It doesn't allow for anything other than physical gratification. To put it bluntly, lust on it's own is no different to a dog humping a post man's leg. The dogs happy - what does he care about the poor post man?
If a submissive goes into a scene thinking only of their own lust, it's not going to go well. And if a dominant goes into the scene with that attitude, then it's probably going to go to hell pretty quickly.
Submission in it's best, and I think in it's more satisfying, form is about giving not taking. It's about giving up control, giving pleasure without any thought to your own, giving your trust to another person, giving up privileges that are generally taken for granted. It's all about giving... well, at it's deepest level, I'd say submission is about giving yourself body and soul to another human being - not through fear or weakness but through free choice.
And the best dominants give us much as they take. They give control, security, safety, certainty, structure, discipline. They give praise as well as punishment. They give pleasure as well as pain. And, yes, I'd say that when it goes right - a dominant gives as much of themselves to a submissive as the submissive gives to them.
So, lust on it's own is not enough to keep me interested as a reader or a writer.
I'm not saying there has to be forever-love attached to every sex scene, but there has to be something more than just an inclination to get off. There has to be emotion attached to it. The person has to care about their lover, it has to be about both people's pleasure.
And I don't mean that in the simple form of everyone has to get at least one orgasm each. Sometimes the submissive in a sex scene doesn't have permission to come and I'm fine with that - but it should be because the dominant has made an informed decision not because he simply can't be bothered.
I write erotic romance and so the characters who have sex in my books are either in love or on their way to it. I like that. I like that they have an emotional as well as a physical investment in their sex lives. I like adding love to lust.
I think everyone a private little list of story types that tick their boxes. Experienced lover coupled with a virgin. Older women with younger men. Threesomes Werewolves... To pick some random examples. I have quite a long list of things like that.
One of the things I like is to take a couple who are already in a physical relationship - who are already in lust and who care about their lover at least a little bit. And I like to watch them fall in love.
That's partly because in spite of my kinks, I'm just a bit soppy like that. And it's partly because it doesn't matter if your dominant or submissive - if you kink that way you'll probably have a good instinct for where the control lies - and the introduction of an emotion no one can control is sure to set events spinning in all sorts of interesting directions.
You First is a book like that. The sex is good from the start. Maybe a bit too good for Luke! Lol.
The best way to explain what I mean is probably to just give you the blurb:
All Luke had to do was come after Justin. How difficult could that possibly be?
There was only one thing that stopped sex with Justin being completely perfect for Luke. The timing. That wasn’t so perfect. In fact, the timing really sucked – and not in the fun, fellatio related way.
Justin was five years younger than Luke and relatively inexperienced. Luke had enjoyed more lovers than he could count or remember—he knew he was good at sex. There was no good reason why Justin should outlast him every time they hooked up.
All Luke had to do was come second, set his mind at ease, and everything would be perfect between them. Hell, if he could do that, he might even consider the serious relationship idea Justin seemed so taken with.
How difficult could that possibly be?
So, is it just sexual pride that's got Luke worried, or could it be that he can sense that there is some deeper emotion lurking between them - one that could make everything so much more complicated than lust ever could?
What do you think? Can you tell if two men are destined to fall in love, even before they're aware of it themselves?
Here's an excerpt right from the start of the story. Lust isn't enough for me, but is it enough for Luke?
Love or Lust? Let me know what you think.
Luke Anderson was not going to come first.
He repeated the mantra over and over inside his head as he held his hands out to be bound. Justin Collins deftly buckled the soft leather around his wrists. Tugging on the chain between the cuffs, he positioned Luke on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed.
Justin attached the cuffs to a little hook screwed into the headboard for that precise purpose. He pulled at the chain, testing how securely it would hold Luke in place. The metal links clinked together. Luke took a deep breath. All his best sexual experiences occurred to that theme song. The sound went straight to his cock.
Luke was still not going to come first. He was Luke Anderson, newest and highest flying barrister in the best chambers in London. He could bloody well do anything he set his mind to.
Justin’s hand applied pressure—a steady pressure to the back of his neck. Luke lowered himself onto his elbows. The pressure didn’t ease. Luke turned his palms up and rested his head in his hands. Head down and arse up, Luke closed his eyes. He told himself for the thousandth time it must be possible.
Just because he hadn’t outlasted Justin yet, didn’t mean he couldn’t do it. He just needed to focus. He was twenty-three years old—five years older than his lover. He’d topped and bottomed more partners than he could count or remember in both genders. False modesty and jokes aside, Luke was well aware he knew tricks even most really expensive professionals hadn’t mastered.
He shifted his knees further apart on the mattress as Justin moved into position, kneeling on the bed behind him. He had to outlast Justin just once, just so he knew he could do it. Just for pride’s sake, because Luke knew his lack of self restraint was the only thing that kept sex with Justin from being perfect.
Justin’s fingers slipped briefly inside him, checking he was slick, relaxed and ready to play. Luke bit his lip and held back a moan as Justin crooked his fingers and found his prostate.
He could do this. Practicing a little bit of restraint wouldn’t kill him.
The rustle of the packet when Justin slipped on a condom was his only warning. Justin slid into him in one smooth movement. Luke gasped. For a perfect moment, Justin stilled inside him, stretching him and filling him completely. He began rocking his hips, building up the movement in tiny increments. Only when Luke whimpered his frustration did Justin begin to thrust into him in earnest.
In what felt like moments, lethal frustration was a growing possibility. Each stroke pressed against Luke’s prostate in a rhythm calculated to throw him over the edge at any moment.
He tried to remember he didn’t want to fall into pleasure—why he didn’t want to jump over the ledge with his arms spread wide in enthusiastic abandon. All he could think about was just how glorious it would feel when he came with Justin still buried balls deep inside him.
But still, in the back of his mind the mantra continued. Luke was not going to come first.
Desperately trying to concentrate on anything other than Justin’s erection pounding into him, Luke scrambled for any other details and senses to focus on.
The cotton sheet underneath him was pale blue. At this angle, with his nose barely an inch from the surface, Luke saw it was actually two shades of thread blended together. He couldn’t bring himself to care. His prostate sang inside him, coaxing him to join in with it in harmony, groaning his pleasure at every inch of delicious friction.
The scent of their arousal filled the room, mingling with Justin’s aftershave. Justin always smelt fantastic. Another perfect thing to add to all the other perfect things Luke had noticed over the months they’d been hooking up for sex. He always smelt like old sandalwood and well worn leather. Luke loved pressing close against Justin’s body and taking deep breaths of his scent when they danced together. He loved sliding his fingers up into Justin’s hair and pulling him close, to wrap Justin’s scent around him.
Luke threaded his fingers through his own hair. He pulled at the thick blond strands, hoping the pain might kill off some tiny bit of his arousal. The tug increased with each connection of Justin’s hips against his arse. It did nothing to help his increasingly frantic desire not to come.
Justin’s rhythm increased another notch. Cradling Luke’s pelvis in his strong grip, he held him steady and absorbed part of the impact from each thrust. Luke rocked back with every motion. As he focused on the pressure of each fingertip against his skin, Justin’s right hand left his hip.
He reached underneath Luke and started to jack him off with an expert touch. Luke pulled at the cuffs around his wrists. He couldn’t reach down and push Justin’s hand away. He had no choice but to accept the touch or say his safe word.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?