Dancing on The Edge

Tales from The Edge

by L M Somerton

Life is a dance. Whether you lead or follow, the passion of it should sweep you away.

Carey and Alistair have the kind of relationship that is the envy of their friends. Carey is an old-fashioned Dom who appreciates quiet obedience. Alistair is a sub who is comfortable in his skin and finds peace in his submission. Needless to say, their happiness is too good to last.

When Alistair's powerful father chooses his reputation over his son, all hell is let loose. Forcibly committed to a clinic for reversion therapy, Alistair can only hope that his lover will save him.

Carey calls on his friends from The Edge and they band together not just to rescue Alistair but also to protect his future. They've all flirted with danger in the past—but friendship is worth any risk. As the tension mounts and the stakes get higher, new bonds are forged but will Carey and Alistair's love survive?

Reader Advisory: This book contains the use of restraints, the pushing of boundaries and edging, kidnap, forceful imprisonment and forms of visual torture along with scenes of prolonged physical torture. It also contains characters with extreme prejudiced views. This book is best read in sequence as part of the series.

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Alistair let the pounding beat of the music soak into his body. The deep thrum of the bass reverberated through his feet, up his spine and into his brain. He moved instinctively, twisting his hips and swaying, lost to the euphoria of the dance. The Underground's dance floor wasn't big, as if it had been deliberately designed to bring overheated bodies closer together. Alistair liked to be in the centre of the press of writhing flesh because there he could be anonymous. Nobody would notice that he was dancing alone. Occasionally someone would slide a sweaty arm around his waist or press a hard cock against his arse-he could just slip free and disappear into the crowd. No offence given and none taken.


It wasn't often that he had the freedom to really let go, but it was his night off and he was determined to enjoy himself. It was so stifling that for a moment he wished he were still wearing the short leather kilt that formed The Underground's skimpy staff uniform. The black PVC trousers he had on were ludicrously hot. Perspiration ran down his bare back and chest and his hair was soaked. It was time for a long, cool drink and he really needed to towel off.

Alistair made his way gradually to the edge of the dance floor. It took a while-the music was intoxicating and hard to withdraw from. He hovered on the periphery for a while, still dancing but aware now of what was going on in the wider room. The stage was empty apart from two men who were manhandling a large wooden cross into its centre, cursing and swearing at the weight of the thing. Alistair knew that some eager sub would be chained to it later, enjoying the kiss of the whip.

Many of the tables that circled the dance floor were occupied. Alistair knew all of the regulars by name and recognised quite a few of the less frequent visitors. A team of waiters, unashamedly employed for their looks and desire to please, attended the tables. On six nights out of seven he was one of them and enjoyed being part of the team. They were well paid and, though subservience was required, they had no other obligation to the clientele. The members were well aware of the rules and kept their hands to themselves, but it was perfectly proper to ask a server if he would be available to play when he got off his shift. Most of the boys Alistair knew were more than willing. For an unattached sub, The Underground was safe. It also attracted dominant men who were committed enough to the lifestyle to pay the exorbitant fees. For those that wanted them, there were plenty of opportunities to test compatibility or just to find someone happy to deliver a sound spanking with no strings.

Alistair had taken advantage of his position many times. He was slim, blond and pretty-all attributes that appealed to a large proportion of the members. He never had a problem finding a Dom for an evening of fun and games that they would both enjoy. It helped that he adored having his arse paddled until it glowed and if he was tied up while it happened, so much the better. He scanned the room catching several interested glances, but Alistair was only looking for one man. The man who was always present, whomever Alistair played with. The only man he had ever allowed to fuck him. It was dark and crowded-spotlights blinded him as he peered up at the gallery, his stomach knotted with anxiety. Where was he?

Bodies between Alistair and the bar moved apart and there he was-Carey Hoffman-and he was looking directly at Alistair, a slight smile curving his lips. Alistair relaxed as soon as he locked gazes with the darkly handsome man. Carey was his anchor in a bewildering world and there was no way Alistair would have walked across the club alone unless he knew Carey was watching. He began to move, careful not to brush against anyone or make eye contact. He didn't like rejecting people, but he wasn't wearing a collar and that made him fair game. He made it three paces before a huge, leather-clad guy loomed over him with a leer.

"Well, pretty boy, what are you doing here all alone?"

Alistair looked up and took in the extensive tattoos that covered his new friend's heavily muscled arms, then the thick neck and shaved head.

"I… I'm not…"

Alistair flinched as the stranger took his arm, gripping his biceps tightly. "Don't be scared, little one, we can have a good time together." He tugged Alistair towards the tables.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm not available tonight," Alistair finally managed to get out.

"Or any night," Carey said as he appeared next to him and stroked his hair. "This one's taken, Frank." The big guy looked disappointed, but he smiled, revealing a dimple that was completely incongruous.

"S'all right, Carey. Haven't been in for a while-didn't realise." Frank released Alistair's arm and stepped back.

"Not a problem. In fact I think Toby over there might suit you." Carey gestured towards a server with dark hair and a cheeky grin.

Frank grinned right back. "Pretty. Is he interested, Carey?"

Carey crooked a finger at Toby and the slight waiter came scuttling over with undignified speed.

"Oh, I think you might say that."

Toby bounced on the spot, his dark brown eyes glinting. He looked like a puppy that had just been given the best treat ever. He disappeared with a squeak as Frank wrapped a beefy, decorated arm around his shoulders.

Reviews:on Joyfully Reviewed:

Sensual dominance rules the day in Dancing on the Edge where desire sets the standard in tasteful erotic love play. Carey and Alistair come to life and prove their commitment to each other in this sensual story. Fans of the series will enjoy hearing from characters in previous books, new readers will be hooked. Sexy, humorous, and intense the BDSM lifestyle is tame compared to a powerful sire’s intentions.

on Prism Book Alliance:

I have really enjoyed this series and look forward to hearing more about their lives and meeting more characters in any future books. There is a lot of attention to detail in the building of relationships, not just between the couples. The BDSM is well written.

About the Author

LM lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

LM is winner of the National Leather Association’s Pauline Reage Award for best novel and the 2016 Golden Flogger Award for best BDSM novel in the LGBT category. She has received multiple Honorable Mentions in the Rainbow Awards and won the Action and Adventure category of Divine Magazine’s Book Awards in 2015.

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