Title: Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual
Surrender
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: April 21, 2015
On the heels of the wildly popular New York
Times and USA Today bestseller, MASTERED, we bring you MASTERED 2, ten more
tales of sensual surrender!
Played
Jacqueline
adjusted the straps on her snug black
dress, ensuring they hiked up her ample
bosom, then stared at herself critically in
the large mirror in the elegant
hotel lobby ladies’
room.
She
was here on a mission and she’d pulled out
all the stops.
Low cut black dress that hugged every curve
of her body. Shockingly high stilettos
that made her legs look even longer than
they were, and accentuated her rounded
butt. She turned in the mirror and
glanced at her backside. Her cheeks
flushed at the sight of herself in the
short, tight black dress, all her assets
blatantly on display, but it was important
she succeed and she needed to use
everything she had going for her. She
had even pulled her long, chestnut hair up
and clipped it neatly behind her
head to stop it from obscuring her
cleavage.
She
turned back to face the mirror, her gaze
dropping to the sparkly diamond star
pendant grazing the tops of her
pushed-up-thrust-forward breasts. (Her brother had given it to her and it
was a
constant reminder of how he’d always taken
care of her, and believed in her. He’d told her she’d be a star in whatever
she
did.)
Three
women entered the washroom,
chatting.
Jacqueline reapplied her deep
red lipstick, then dropped the tube in her
evening bag and walked back into the
lobby.
The
hotel was lavishly elegant. Crystal
chandeliers glittered from the ceiling as
she walked along the marble floor,
her heels clacking on the surface. She
walked to the concierge desk and opened her
small, sequined bag and pulled out
a black and red poker chip with the Danner
insignia on it.
He
glanced at it and
nodded.
“Go
to room
2403.”
She
smiled as she turned and walked to the
elevator.
Room 2403 was where she would find Mr.
Danner. Billionaire owner of Danner
Industries. She had to see
him and
convince him to help her
sister.
She’d
tried calling his secretary to arrange to
see him in his office so she could
plead her case, but he was harder to get an
appointment with than the president
of the United States. So she’d talked
to
a friend of hers, who knew that Danner ran
a high-stakes poker game once a
month. No one knew where it was until
the day, and it was extremely
exclusive.
Danner didn’t worry about the
details of deciding who could play. He had staff to check out potentials, but
Jacqueline’s friend had an in and had
obtained one of the poker chips that
would allow her in the
door.
Every
player had to go with at least two hundred
thousand dollars they were prepared
to lose, which she didn’t have. But she
didn’t intend to lose. She smiled as
she
walked onto the elevator and pushed the
button.
Because
she intended to cheat.
* * *
Race
Danner stared out the window of the luxury
hotel room over the lights of the
city reflected in the lake below as he
poured himself a drink. The other players were continuing the
game
behind him, but he’d stopped to take a break.
He sipped the seventy-five
year old scotch and sighed.
Even
these poker games, that he’d arranged to
break up the boredom he’d been
suffering from over the past year, had
stopped giving him the excitement he was
seeking.
Travel,
women, extreme sports. None of it gave
him exactly what he was looking
for.
He
turned back to the game, watching the
intensity in the eyes of the card players
at the
table.
The
problem was, he didn’t know exactly what he
was looking for.
But
he had a feeling he’d know when he saw
it.
A
knock sounded at the door and Renaldo, one
of the hotel serving staff
overseeing the game, answered it. Race
heard a young woman’s voice, then the
Renaldo opened the door and she walked
inside.
His
breath held as he stared at
her.
The
little black dress—and he did mean
little—and the fuck-me shoes she wore
showcased her stunning body, but he could
tell she wasn’t used to wearing such
a revealing outfit. She carried
herself
with confidence, but he could read people
and could sense a hesitation in
her. She glanced around, as if wondering
if anyone was gazing at her, but not in a
look-at-me way.
Her
hair was swept up and held in place by a
glittery butterfly clip, which meant
it was long. He liked long
hair.
He smiled to himself, deciding that before
the night was over, he’d see her hair
hanging loose and free. And he’d ensure he soon get the chance to
coil her tresses around his hand and hold
tight.
Renaldo
was talking to her, and Race knew the man
would hustle her out, since she was
not one of the people on the invitation
list for tonight.
Race
would not let her slip through his fingers,
however.
He walked toward them.
“Problem,
Renaldo?” Race
asked.
Jenna’s
Punishment
by Ruby
Foxx
My
gaze fell on the forbidden door and
curiosity poked at me. I knew he had a stash of keys in his
kitchen
drawer and I bet one of them was for the
lock on this door.
I bit my lip, toying with the idea of
grabbing those keys and looking
inside.
What
would it hurt? He’d never have
to know.
And
I really wanted to know what was
inside.
I
turned and walked into the kitchen, then
grabbed the keys and returned to the
hallway. The third key fit in the
lock.
I
hesitated, knowing I shouldn’t really do
this.
But
curiosity won out and I turned the
key.
I pushed the door open and
peered inside, but it was dark in the
room. Were there no
windows?
I
reached along the wall, searching for a
light switch.
My fingers found it and I flicked on the
light.
My
eyes widened. The room was
big and at
first I couldn’t even comprehend what I was
seeing.
I stepped inside.
There
was a black leather couch and a big black
cupboard on one wall. There was strange furniture around the
room
that I didn’t really understand, but many
had big steel rings fastened to them,
some with leather straps attached, and
others with chains.
There
were chains on the wall, too, at just the
right height for a person. In the corner, there was a tall, narrow
cage.
I
walked to the cabinet and opened one of the
doors.
Inside, I was shocked to find what looked
like floggers, riding crops, and paddles in
different shapes and sizes. I reached out and touched one of the
suede
floggers with one-inch wide
strands.
It
was a beautiful shade of purple, and the
suede was soft under my fingertips.
“I
told you not to come in
here.”
I
twirled around at the sound of Cade’s
voice.
He stood in the doorway
looking big and menacing.
“I’m…
uh…
sorry.”
There
was no way to explain away what I’d
done.
I had blatantly defied his
wishes, and now I’d been caught.
He
frowned as he stepped into the
room.
“Now
you must think I’m some kind of
freak.
Or pervert,” he
said.
“No,
of course not. I would never
think that
about
you.”
His
eyebrow arched. “Then what do
you
think?” He raised his hand and gestured
around the room. “About all of
this?”
I
turned back to the cupboard and touched the
suede flogger again, loving the
softness of
it.
“I
think that it shows you’re adventurous in
the bedroom.
That you like to try new, exciting
things.”
He
closed the door behind him and stepped
toward me.
“And what about you, Jenna? Do you like exciting, adventurous things
in
the
bedroom?”
As
he approached, like a panther stalking his
prey, my heart raced.
“Well…
uh…” I drew in a breath. “Sure, I guess
so.”
As
I glanced around the room at all the
strange equipment, however, my stomach
fluttered in uncertainty. But I knew
deep inside that I totally trusted
Cade.
“You
don’t sound too
certain.”
“Well,
it totally depends on who I’m
with.”
Then I smiled
seductively.
“With
you, for instance, I would be very
adventurous.”
He
stopped in front of me and placed his hands
on my shoulders.
“You
know, Jenna. I told you that
you and I
wouldn’t happen.
Remember?”
Disappointment
flooded through me and I
nodded.
“And
I told you not to come in this room.
Right?”
I
nodded again, feeling very
sheepish.
“Say
‘yes, sir’ so I know you understand.”
“Yes,
sir.”
Then
his hand glided along my shoulders and down
my arms, sending tremors of
awareness through
me.
“Since
you chose to ignore what I told you, I
think there have to be consequences.”
Consequences? Was he going to
fire me?
But
the heat in his eyes and the velvety tone
of his voice assured me otherwise.
“Like
what?” Then I added,
“Sir.”
A
slow smile spread across his
face.
“I
will have to punish
you.”
Resistor by
Madelynne Ellis
“Let’s go into the party
suite.”
It was only a few short steps across the
hall. Spook
tried the door handle, then ushered her
inside. The huge room was all decked
out for when the auditorium emptied. Tables
and chairs set out around the
edges, canapés on the bar, and row upon row
of filled crystal glasses waiting
to be
served.
Spook grabbed a glass off the nearest tray
and downed
it in one long gulp before reaching for
another.
“In need of Dutch courage?” she
asked.
“Guess so.” Second drained, he went for a
third.
“Course it’d help if it was something
stronger than pissing sherry.” He slammed
the glass back down against the tablecloth,
then looked a little sheepish,
possibly over how much force he’d used,
though equally it could have been over
his treatment of her. Perhaps indicative of
its quality, the glass remained
intact.
“OK!” He paused to drag both hands through
the front of
his hair, which left the blond strands
sticking up. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I —”
“I’ve driven you to drink,” she remarked,
casting a
glance at the row of
empties.
“Demented,” he corrected her. “You’ve
driven me
demented, as if the band didn’t do that
already.”
“Pretty impressive of me, given we haven’t
spoken for
months.”
He took a deep breath and sighed, but faced
her
straight on. “I thought about you. A lot.
Maybe too much. Definitely too much.”
“Nice things?” she asked. Yes, she was
fishing for
compliments, but hey, five minutes ago she
didn’t think they’d ever be having
this
conversation.
“Depends on your definition of
nice.”
“Naughty,” she replied. “As in things that
turned you
on, and maybe got you sweating a little,
and hard.” She flicked her gaze down
to his loins and back.
Spook gave a groan. “I’d be lying if I said
otherwise.”
“So, why didn’t you
call?”
His hand shot out to seize another drink.
Alle curled
her fingers around his outstretched arm,
making him pause. Slowly, he released
the stem of the glass and steadied his gaze
upon her face again. “Because this
can’t
be.”
“Why not? Is there someone
else?”
“No — hell, no!” His brow furrowed.
“There’s nobody.”
“Then you’re making no sense. What’s wrong
with us
enjoying some adult fun?” She sought his
hand to link their fingers together.
Spook’s frown only deepened at the sight of
their palms
pressed together so tightly, but, she
noticed, he didn’t pull away. “Alle, I
can’t be who you want me to
be.”
The ludicrousness of the remark surprised a
smile out
of her. “You are who I want you to be.”
“No.” He freed his fingers from her grip
and used them
to cover her mouth. ‘I’m not. I know you
think you’ve found the person who’ll
give you what you’re craving, but I’m not
that man. I can’t… I’m sorry.’
‘Did I imagine you tanning my
arse?’
‘No.’
‘Am I supposed to believe you’re not
interested in
doing it
again?’
‘Of course
not.
“Then what? Why? If you want it and I want
it… Spook,
we want the same thing, don’t we? Why are
you so dead against exploring that?”
He clammed up, lips pursed, deep,
ocean-blue eyes
downcast as he turned his hand to cup her
cheek and chase a tear of frustration
that tracked down her face.
“It was good between us,
Spook.”
“Yes, it was. Better than
good.”
She blinked, trying to clear her eyes, and
not crumple
into a blubbering heap. She was stronger
than that. She didn’t cry, not with
four brothers who’d mocked her mercilessly
for it. Tears had never got her what
she wanted, quite the opposite. At home,
her tears were what had marked her as
a girl and had stopped her from getting her
the same deal as the rest of her
siblings. She couldn’t wipe the salt tracks
from her skin though, without
knocking Spook’s hand out of the way, and
no matter what, she wouldn’t break
that
contact.
“I’m not worth crying
over.”
“I’m not
crying.”
He caught another tear on his fingertips
and brought it
to the tip of his tongue. Mesmerized, she
watched him taste it, and felt her
panties get wet. Sweet mercy! She could see
him doing that after he’d pushed
her to the limits of her endurance and she
was just a breath away from
numbness, sunk deep into a sort of
sub-space of stretched nerves, surrender,
and bliss. Her gasp left her lips gently
parted and the remainder of her breath
caught in the top of her
lungs.
Spook’s gaze fixed upon her breasts, then
lifted slowly
back to her mouth.
She was going to kiss him.
She didn’t care if he pushed her away.
She was going to kiss
him.
Kiss him now.
Luscious by T.J.
Michaels
Mac was
an alpha to the bone. In her case, alpha
didn't mean bitch...well, unless some
bitchiness was required at the moment. It
was simply her personality and style, and
allowed her to successfully run a
thriving business in a field dominated by
men, and deal with emergencies with
ease.
On the
flip side of that coin, this man, her
husband, brought out the submissive in her
like literally no one else could.
And when her man crossed his legs and let
his vivid green gaze roam boldly from
her head to her feet and back again, Mac
felt sexy as hell. Blushing, she
automatically bowed before
him.
"Today, it's you, me and some rope. Do you
consent to this, MacKenzie Chalice
Daniels-Ivers?"
Oh dear
lord, he called her by her whole name!
That was typically reserved for when she
was in trouble, or when he planned
something intense. Butterflies in her gut
were a thing of the past as they
morphed into pterodactyls. A shiver went
through her whole body and settled
down between the joints in her knees. A
deep breath did nothing to calm her at
all. But one thing was for sure--her nerves
skipped around from sheer
anticipation of some serious
delight.
"Well?" he
asked.
"Yes, of course I
consent."
"Good. Go to your play bag and get all of
the red bamboo
rope."
How did
he know she had that in there? Before
she could ask, he said, "I put it in
there two nights past in place of
that rough jute stuff you had bundled up
inside."
One brow
winged its way up her forehead as his
words truly registered. And then her man
gave her one of the most deliciously
promising grins she'd seen on his face
lately.
She smiled
in return, shaking her head at herself,
as understanding dawned. Landon had
obviously planned this well in advance.
Sure she'd seen the rope when she'd
inspected her bag not fifteen minutes ago,
but she always had some in there just in
case. Easy knots for easy play was
something she could handle. But all the ins
and outs and its intricate uses
were Landon's domain. And it was a domain
he ruled, completely.
Once she
was across the room and standing over
her bag, another command
came.
"Put your locs up into a bun, high on top
of your head. Then remove your clothes and
leave them folded neatly where you
stand. You may keep those sexy ass panties
on that you were sashaying around
the house in this
morning."
"Sashay?" she
gawked.
"Absolutely. And it was a beautiful sight.
Have a problem with the word, sashay?"
he asked. He lowered his head and
watched her through thick coal-black
lashes. A smart ass comment was on the
edge of her lips when he gave
her the look and raised an
imperious
brow.
Mac
blurted, "Nope. No problem at
all."
Her Secret by Portia Da Costa
Attending a wedding
reception, reunited lovers Susannah and
Jamie have decided to spend the night
together, and are on their way up to his
room in the lift…
***
Within the blink of an
eye, we’re alone in the metal box, going
up. It’s just a short ride, and all
Jamie does is dust a strangely courtly kiss
in my knuckles, looking up at me
intently over them. What’s in his mind?
What’s he planning? Apart from the obvious.
He’s a strong man. A man
confident in his own skin. He wears black
and leather. He’s almost the cliché
of a dominant master, from what little I’ve
gleaned about such things.
His mouth is firm and his
eyes control me. My stomach flutters at the
idea. But there’s an almost angelic
softness to his thick, glossy black hair
that brushes his shoulders.
Perhaps he is a Hells
Angel after
all?
I want to leap forwards
and kiss his lips, but the lift door opens,
and he leads me out and along the
corridor to his room. He doesn’t speak, but
his beautiful eyes and his
imperious body language say everything.
Once in the room, he pulls me into his
arms, and I melt towards him, powerless.
The strap of my bag slides off my
shoulder, and it drops to the carpet. I
don’t seem to have the will to pick it
up; everything is for Jamie, my total
concentration as he cradles my head and
brings his mouth down on mine in just the
way I wanted in the lift.
It’s as if we never
parted, yet somehow he’s gained twelve
years of manhood and potency and
self-belief. His tongue pushes between my
lips immediately, bold and muscular
and subduing. The taste of him is champagne
and overproof alpha male. The kiss
is like an engine turned on inside me.
Wanton, I press myself against him, my
belly against the considerable hard knot of
his denim-clad cock.
‘Very nice,’ he growls
against my mouth. ‘Very keen. I like that.’
He nips at my lower lip, his teeth
closing in perfectly gauged dominion.
‘Don’t ever hide your desire from me,
Suzie. Don’t hold
back.’
The kiss begins again,
but more so. Much more. Jamie the mature
man is far more voracious than the
younger Jamie. He knows exactly what he
wants and he’s taking it. A little fear
grips my heart. What have I got myself into?
I’m not sure I can control this
situation, but then, why would I want to?
If I want to experience the games of
BDSM that I know my friends play, willing
submission is the key to it. Even if
there’s no pain involved, there’s power.
His power.
His Touch by Karen
Fenech
Nate
reached across the table and engulfed her
hand with his much larger one. He
brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss
to her palm. "I like that you
worry about
me."
Before
Corinne could do more than register his
touch, the feel of his lips against her
skin, Nate lowered her hand to the table
and released her. Before she could
panic, she thought. He touched her from
time to time but never more than a
quick brush of his fingers. He’d been
around her enough to know that since
Steven, she’d come to fear a man’s touch.
To her shame, even Nate’s touch made
her feel afraid. Nate who’d never been
anything but good to her.
Had
her expression given her away? Nate seemed
to be studying her now, watching her
face for every flicker of
movement.
His
body tensed and his gaze grew intent on
her. "I want to talk about what
happened at The
Club."
Her
hands tightened on the mug and any warmth
she’d been feeling evaporated.
"I
knew you were back in Blake," Nate
said. "Your dad let me know that
you were
coming."
Corinne
couldn’t say it surprised her that her father
would tell Nate she was returning
to Blake, despite explaining to her dad
that she didn’t want to impose on Nate
any longer. Her father worried about her
and having Nate look in on her and
look out for her would give her father some
peace of mind.
"I
knew you were at The Club tonight,"
Nate went on. "I hoped you coming
back to Blake signaled a fresh start for
you. I thought you may find your way
to Lazarus’s place and I asked him to call
me if you showed up there. When he
called me, I went there specifically to see
you."
She
didn’t know what to make of
that.
Nate
leaned forward, over the table that lay
between them. "I was glad you went
there. But I had no intention of letting
you play or letting you leave there
with anyone." He pinned her with his
gaze. "Anyone but me. When you
give your submission to a man, I will be
that man."
One
Night With My
Billionaire
Master by Cynthia
Sax
“You
would never hurt me.” I know this in my
soul.
“I
won’t allow anyone to hurt you,” Logan
makes one of his infamous vows, promises
he’s been known to bend laws to keep. “You
won’t regret your decision.”
We
stand in the middle of the ballroom,
surrounded by people. I see only him,
entranced by the emotion in his brown eyes,
his passion, his need, and
something more, something I don’t dare
believe in.
“Was
this my decision?” I muse. “Did I have a
choice?” Or was this inevitable, our
fate, our destiny?
“No,
you didn’t have a choice.” Logan’s lips
lift into one of his rare smiles.
“Dance with me.” This is a command, not a
request. He leads me onto the floor.
“It’s expected.” He swings me into
position, his maneuvering graceful and sure.
It
is expected. In the past, he has arrived at
events, sought me out for a dance,
and then departed immediately after our
exchange.
His
focus on me means nothing. If I say this
statement enough times, I might
believe it. I bend my left arm, layering my
limb over his. Logan clasps my
right hand tightly. Our bodies come
together and we move as one.
This
isn’t the rigid proper waltz I learned at
ballroom dance class. It is rolling
and sensuous, like the undulation of muscle
under skin. One, two, three. One,
two, three. There’s no thinking, no
talking, only feeling, reacting. Logan
steps forward. I step back. He turns. I
follow.
Our
hips brush together, my skirt swirling
around his black pants. I gaze at his
sharp chin, firm lips, feeling delicate,
womanly, trusting him to guide me, to
keep me safe.
Logan
dips me and I fall back, confident he’ll
catch me. “You’re exquisite.” His eyes
gleam and he draws me upright, twirls me
across the floor. If dancing is a sign
of companionship, we’re ideally suited.
I’ve never had a partner know me like
he does, reading my abilities, fulfilling
my wishes.
The
music fades and he sweeps me toward the
edge of the dance floor. Before the
song ends, he’s concealed us in the crowd.
“Escort me from the room.” He covers
my hand with his. “As you’ve been
instructed.”
My
gaze darts upward. How does he know I’ve
been given that order? “I can’t climb
into the limousine with you,” I murmur,
aware that we’re being watched. “People
will
gossip.”
“People
already gossip.” Logan leans into me. “They
see how we dance, speculate that we
fuck as passionately.” His crudeness
stimulates, rather than shocks me. “They
suspect your sweet pussy is filled with my cum,
that my love bites decorate the
curve of your ass and my scent is on your
skin,” he breathes into my hair and I
warm, all over. “Everyone here knows you’re
mine.”
I
stare at him, my thoughts obliterated by
his words.
“Looking at me with your
fuck-me face won’t stop the gossip.” He
chuckles softly.
Mastering
the Mistress
by Evangeline
Anderson
Lyra
reached around him and pushed the up
indicator. Apparently the “dungeon” they
were taking him to was on the top floor. As
Solar stepped inside the mirrored
walls of the elevator, he caught a glimpse
of himself in the glass. He was a
sorry sight indeed, arms bound behind his
back, the spiked pain collar choking
his throat, and the tight black leather
trousers constricting his shaft.
Behind
him, he could see the small, steely eyes of
Lyra, still holding the remote on
him like a gun. Behind her, Kaylee
entered the elevator last. She was nibbling
her lush lower lip and there was a
look of uncertainty on her pretty face.
Solar stared at her and she looked up,
meeting his gaze in the mirror. Their gazes
locked and for a long, breathless
moment they looked into each other’s eyes.
She’s beautiful, Solar admitted to
himself reluctantly. In fact, under
different circumstances, he might have
asked to buy her a drink. Unfortunately, they
weren’t exactly standing side by
side at the friendly neighborhood space
port bar. He was currently her
property—bound and collared and subject to
her every whim. It kind of put a
damper on a male’s
mood.
Which
didn’t explain why his shaft was stirring
in his trousers. Suddenly he
remembered the sight of her plump little
pussy, just inches from his face and
the warm, feminine scent which had teased
his nose when his head had gotten
trapped under her ridiculously short skirt.
He wouldn’t mind playing sexual
games with this little female—not a bit. If
games
joke. And Kaylee wasn’t the only one he had
to worry about. There was also Lyra
to contend
with.
He
continued to stare into Kaylee’s eyes in
the mirror. Her lips were slightly
parted and her cheeks were flushed. Solar
expected her to drop her gaze and end
the intense staring contest at any moment
but she seemed frozen—an animal
caught in the headlights of an oncoming
craft. He narrowed his own eyes and
licked his lips slowly—the implication was
clear. I’m going to eat
you up, little female. The minute I get free of these
damn collar and cuffs you’re in
trouble!
He
wanted to discomfort her and put her off
her guard and it worked. Kaylee’s eyes
widened and she took a step back, her
rounded posterior bumping against the
mirrored wall of the elevator just as it
emitted a soft chime and came to a halt.
*
* * * * * * *
Kaylee
wished her new slave wouldn’t keep staring
at her that way. And was he actually
growling? She couldn’t help
remembering the way their eyes had locked
in the elevator and the implied
threat in his green and gold gaze. Goddess,
the way he looked at her was so intense. It seemed to promise she would
get back everything she and Lyra were
dishing out with interest if only he
could get free. The thought made Kaylee
shudder and not just because she
dreaded his intended retribution.
For
some reason the way her new slave stared at
her reminded her of the stash of
illicit porn vids she’d found in the back
of one of Aunt J’s closets. Vids of
males dominating females instead of the
other way around, the way nature
intended. There were even some of males
penetrating
had been some kind of a sexual pervert. Or
maybe she was just willing to try
anything at least once. That seemed more in
keeping with her dare-devil
character.
Though
she was shocked and dismayed by the illicit
images, Kaylee hadn’t been able to
stop watching them. They made her think of
stories she’d heard of the
Kindred—the race of males who were genetic
traders and traveled the universe in
search of females to bond with. Of course,
her new slave was a Havoc, not a
Kindred but still… The disturbing scenes
gave her a strange, throbbing,
tingling feeling between her legs which she
had never felt when viewing other,
more standard pornographic material with
females dominating males…
Her
new slave’s deep growl was becoming more
menacing. It jerked her out of her
illicit memories and made her blush when
she realized he was giving her that
intense stare
again.
Stop it—stop thinking about it when you’re
so close to him,
she told herself
as she fastened the cuffs around his
wrists with trembling fingers. What if
Havoc males can read thoughts somehow?
She’d heard it said that their
genetic cousins, the Kindred, formed a
telepathic bond with the females they
mated. Could it be that the Havoc had a
similar talent? Kaylee didn’t want to
find
out.
The
Buyer
by Saskia
Walker
As soon as the door to his apartment clicked
shut Lucas closed on her, pinning her up
against the wall in the hallway,
caging her there with his body.
Naomi trembled. She wanted him, but he'd
flagged up some pretty intense sexual
preferences, and she was flying blind on
that score. Apart from some playful
spanking she'd never played with a real Dom
before. Everything he'd said had intrigued
her and turned her on, big time, but
she was stepping into the unknown.
Then he locked his hand around the back of her
neck, his fingers moving beneath her hair,
and ducked his head, kissing her
hungrily.
The
kiss, at
last
. She'd been
thinking about it all evening, wanting it
and imagining it. His mouth on hers
melted her doubts away, instinct taking
over.
She let go her bag and it fell to the floor.
Her hands locked around his head as
responded to him.
With his free hand he hitched up her skirt,
cupping her bottom in his hands, pushing
aside her lacey underwear so that he
could touch her skin. She gasped at his
forthright touch and her head fell back
against the wall. When she did, he ducked
his head to kiss her throat. His
teeth grazed her throat.
"I want you so much," she murmured.
She felt delirious as she said it.
"Lucas, please... I
really want this, but I'm a little
afraid."
He drew back, pausing. "Don't be. I'm here
to look after
you."
She clung to him, swallowed, then nodded. There
was no turning back. After she'd given way
to her doubts and agreed to go home
with him, she had to know what it would be
like to have sex with a man like
Lucas.
He looked like a big cat assessing its prey.
"Tell me why you are here," he
said.
"I'm here because you made me want to know
what it would be like, to be alone with
you."
He nodded. "Show me how much you wanted
that."
Naomi's pulse raced. She wasn't sure what he
meant by that.
"Strip," he added, with a quick nod
at her clothing.
The command fell from his lips so easily, as if
he was asking her to take a seat. But the
effect it had on her was devastating.
Can I do
this?
It's what she'd come there for, to get intimate
with him, and he was taking control of her,
as promised, but she hadn’t
expected that simple but stunning one-word
instruction.
The answer was that she couldn’t walk away –
she couldn't not do it.
XO,
Blake
by Avery
Aster
His muscular arms came wide. He peeled off
his
cotton tank, revealing his gorgeous chest.
Perfectly sculpted. His nipples,
like two blackberries, stared back at me,
persuading to be tasted, sucked, and
played with.
“Lick my pecs, guapo,”
he panted, grabbing
on to my face, pulling my lips onto his
flesh. “They’re sensitive. My nips go
straight to my dick. You touch them and I
get hard.
SÃ.”
Such knowledge could be perilous. He struck
a
vibrant chord in
me…
I stuck my tongue out a bit and licked,
once,
twice. My teeth caught on the edge of his
right nipple as I gave it a slight
tug. His tormented groan was a heady
invitation to keep going. And so I grazed
my tongue across his smooth chest and
continued the licking, biting playfully
on his other pec. His body shivered in my
arms. I liked how vulnerable he was
becoming. There was something alluring
about the man, being so muscular and
masculine, and yet willing to let me have
my way with him.
I had no power over all the crazy shit
going on in
my life. But in Diego’s bed, I had a sense
of control. I needed that. If only
for one night. It felt new and different to
me, and I intended to enjoy every
minute.
He pulled my shirt up. Holding onto his
shoulders,
I stood. With a projected energy and power
which attracted me to him, he yanked
my pants and then my underwear
down.
Being naked in front of him, I didn’t feel
as
vulnerable as I thought I would. If
anything, my excitement only continued to
climb.
And then he…stroked…my
dick.
“Guapo,
you like that?” he murmured, fisting his
hands over my erection.
“Ah-huh,” I replied in a husky whisper.
Hard, my shaft thickened in his hands. The
way he
manhandled me felt hot, too. His palms were
callus and rough but with my dick,
he was almost gentle. He rubbed the bare
skin, admiring the mushroom head of my
penis.
Raw. Sensitive.
Staring up at me, his chest rose as he
moaned,
“I’m going to get your cock nice and wet.
Then you’re going…to tie me up.”
“Start sucking, papi,” I
said in a throaty
voice and lost myself in his mouth. Getting
more turned on by the second as he
gave me oral pleasure, becoming sensitive
to his every touch, my nipples
tightened.
I didn’t know who I was or what the frick I
was
doing. It was as if I was having an
out-of-body experience. I was no longer Blake
Morgan III, Fairfield native, Avon Porter
graduate, and Columbia University
student.
No!
I was guapo, the raging
dominant and
soon-to-be top aficionado of all things
ass.
Tugging at my balls, his head jerked back
and
forth. Getting into a rhythm, he rotated
his attention from the tip of my dick
to my
shaft.
Waves of pleasure throbbed through me. The
warmth
of his hot flesh was amazing.
He reached for the rope from the nightstand
and
instructed in sweet agony, “Tie me up.” And
spread out on his back.
Climbing on top of him, I placed his hands
near
the headrest. Taking his right hand in
mine, I recalled my good ‘ol Boy Scout
days of knots and wrapped the blue rope
once, twice, around his wrist. Then I
pulled his arm up a bit.
New York Times bestselling author Avery
Aster pens The Manhattanites, a contemporary erotic romance series of
full-length, stand-alone novels, and the naughty new adult prequel companion
series The Undergrad Years.
Get a free ebook when you join Avery’s
newsletter: http://eepurl.com/CQ665
As a New York Times and USA Today
bestselling author of erotic contemporary romance, Opal Carew writes about
passion, love, and taking risks. Her
heroines follow their hearts and push past the fear that stops them from
realizing their dreams… to the excitement and love of happily-ever-after.
Sign up for Opal's newsletter: http://tinyurl.com/OpalCarewNews
Amazon bestselling author Evangeline
Anderson writes the steamy sci-fi series Brides of the Kindred as well as
paranormal erotica in her Born to Darkness series. Sign up for
Evangeline's
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/21fCL
Award winning British author Saskia Walker
has fifteen erotic romance novels in publication and her short fiction appears
in over a hundred international anthologies and magazines.
USA Today Bestselling Author Karen Fenech
writes romantic suspense and is the author of The Protectors Series. When Karen's not writing or spending time
with her family, she loves to shop, watch movies and just kick back in a
comfortable chair and read.
Newsletter:
http://ymlp.com/xgeubjejgmguu
British author Portia Da Costa is a NYT,
USA Today and Amazon #1 bestseller. She’s been writing erotic romances like THE
ACCIDENTAL TRILOGY and HOW TO SEDUCE A BILLIONAIRE for the legendary UK
publisher Black Lace since 1991, and when IN TOO DEEP hit #5 the UK Sunday
Times fiction bestseller charts in 2012 the only two authors outselling her at
the time were Sylvia Day and E L James.
Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/OZuCT
Meet Jennifer Leeland: It has been a
fabulous journey. I have a special relationship with my characters, who both
annoy me and inspire me. And yes, they talk to me. In the shower. In the car.
When I'm trying to sleep. Many have asked me why I write erotic romance.
Believe me, it would probably be easier to write something my mom could tell
her friends about. But I love the emotion, the conflict, the possibilities
contained in erotic romance. When I read, I want to indulge in fantasies. I
hope I can do the same for others.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling
Author Madelynne Ellis writes historical and contemporary including the Rock
Hard and Black Halo books about a gothic rock band.
Cynthia Sax's contemporary and SciFi erotic
romances have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time with Bill Maher, and
numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
Newsletter: http://cynthiasax.com/newsletter
Ruby Foxx is the alter ego of a New York
Times best-selling erotic romance author.
Think of her as the evil twin.
Her other half may write erotic love stories that push the limits, but
Ruby doesn’t know what limits are. When you crave the titillation that only the
fulfillment of your wildest fantasies can give you, look no further than Ruby’s
short, sexy stories. Newsletter Signup: bit.ly/RubyNews
USA Today and New York Times bestseller,
T.J. Michaels, is also an award-winning author of several romance genres,
including paranormal, fantasy, sci-fi and urban fantasy romance. No matter the
genre TJ is penning, her favorite thing to do is build worlds. To take you
somewhere extraordinary. To transport you to a place where you can close your
eyes and slip into your fantasy...
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