Coming July 18th Add to your Goodreads shelf now. His name is Beat, and I should hate him. Bound, blindfolded and bruised, I'm tied in his basement, waiting for the men who stripped me from clothes and humanity to collect his debt to them. Me. His name is Nate and I should hate him, but I don't. I'm not supposed to know his real name, even worse, I'm not supposed to care. He is nothing to me but means to an end. The plan is simple: break free, collect the pieces of my broken soul, kill the bastards and run away. His name is Nathaniel Thomas Vela, and I've never seen his face, though I hear that it's beautiful. Behind the rugged and handsome exterior, there's a quiet murderer, a killer who thinks guns are for pussies and ends people with his bare hands. His name doesn't matter, neither does his face, but what does matter is my heart. And right now, sadly, it's his. Blood to Dust is a standalone, full-length novel. It contains graphic violence and adult situations some may find offensive. “You don’t get a say in this shit,” Ink announces with borrowed authority. I can hear the uncertainty leaking from him. He’s what I call an easy job. If it were just him watching over me, I would have been dancing in Iowan cornfields far away from here by now, Sebastian and Godfrey’s heads tucked in that Nike bag. “You make me uncomfortable.” I yank my arm away. “What, and the other guy makes you warm and fuzzy?” He sounds genuinely offended. Beat inches closer behind me, and I feel the heat of his body drifting into mine. He’s close. Hot-jock-leaning-against-your-locker close. It’s going to be hard to bypass someone his size. “You think I’m nice?” His breath moves through the plastic of his mask, tickling my ear. I shudder down to my toes. His mouth smells like peach. How bad can a guy who smells like a peach be? “Nice-r.” I clear my throat, my eyes still trained on Ink in front of me. Ink shakes his head, indicating that I’m dead wrong. The air becomes chilly. Why hadn’t I noticed it’s so chilly? Because it’s not. It’s August in California, and I’m cold because I’m frightened. “Let’s test your theory. I’m going to touch you now. Move without permission, and I’m breaking your arm.” My busted lower lip splits open again as I scowl at his threat. He definitely looks like a guy who makes good on his threats. “Okay.” I lick my blood, my voice tender. Beat kicks my legs open and brings my arms up, patting me down dryly, like airport security. His rough fingers stroke the curves of my shoulders as he moves down from my skull to my outer breasts, circling them lazily. Down to my stomach…lower to my tensed inner thighs, pushing the fabric of my mini dress away to make room for his warm paws. Every muscle in my body is ready to plow forward, to run away, to try and hurt him; the memory of every experience I’ve had that started this way demands for me to take action. But this…it doesn’t feel like a violation. The sour taste of bile has yet to explode in my mouth. His hands move down my legs, stroking my ankles…then he stops. “Got something inside?” He squats down, hooking one of his thumbs into my ankle boot. His masked face is eye level with my pelvis, and warmth spreads along my bones like hot wax. “No,” I lie. There’s still a slight chance he won’t check. But he checks. Beat jerks my boot out and a Swiss army knife falls with a clank on the concrete pavement. I let out a sigh and drop my head. Shit. Happy thoughts. Frozen yoghurt with Preston down the local mall. Curling up on the egg-swing with a Mia Sheridan book. Water lilies blooming over the artificial pond in the Burlington-Smyth’s garden. A genuine smile from a stranger. Beat stands up slowly, his gleeful mask zeroing on my face. It all looks like a scene from a horror movie. And I’m the victim. L.J. Shen is a best-selling author of Contemporary Romance novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat. She enjoys the simple things in life, like chocolate, wine, reading, HBO, spending time with her girlfriends and internet-stalking Chris Hemsworth. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed. Author Links Twitter Facebook Amazon Goodreads
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Excerpt Greer smiled and approached, keeping her hands at her side so she didn’t hide the fantastic low cleavage of her dress. If she knew anything about men, it was that they could be diverted from anything with a nice pair of boobs. As if determined to prove her theory right, Asher paused mid-conversation and stepped to the side, directly in her path. “Greer?” “Hi, Asher.” Her voice was breathless with excitement. He was here. He was here and he was noticing her. In fact, she was pretty sure he was staring at her, hard. “You look . . . different.” His voice was low, sexy. Yes! He was noticing! Oh crap, what should she say to pull him away from the others? He had a mask slung in one hand and a drink in the other. “What’s your costume?” “Pimp daddy,” one guy said, and the men around him guffawed. Asher turned away from Greer and slugged a guy in the shoulder. “Fuck off, guys. This is Greer. She’s like a little sister to me.” Her nostrils flared with irritation. Little sister? Really? Did he not see her tits hanging out of this fucking skimpy dress? But then the men started laughing and talking over each other all at once, and she nearly screamed with frustration. She needed to get him away from the group of ex–frat boys if she was ever going to get a word in edgewise. Time to use her nonexistent wiles. When Asher turned back to a guy telling a story, she moved forward and leaned in, pushing her breasts against Asher’s arm. That got his attention. He looked down at her, and she was short, which meant he had a fantastic view of her cleavage. She was pleased when his gaze stuck there, and he downed the rest of his drink, ignoring his chatty friend. “Can we go someplace private and catch up, Asher?” Sure, they had lunch last week, but maybe there’d be some catching up to do between now and then, right? He nodded, transfixed by her cleavage, and handed his empty glass to a passing server, grabbing a fresh one. “You lead the way.” Perfect. A hot one night stand between friends might spark true love in The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake by Jessica Clare! Pre-order your copy for a June 21st release! Amazon US: http://amzn.to/260YeQ5 iBooks: http://apple.co/1UOkyr6 Nook: http://bit.ly/1S4rPyp Kobo: http://bit.ly/1UirAnR Blurb A hot one night stand between friends might spark true love in the latest Billionaires and Bridesmaids novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Billionaire Takes a Bride. Greer has always been there for Asher, but she wishes she could break through her shyness and show how much she truly loves him. But after a steamy, mindless fling at Hunter and Gretchen’s engagement party, Greer finds herself tossed aside and forced to admit that you can’t love someone who doesn’t acknowledge you exist. It’s a shame he got her pregnant. After his fiancée betrayed him and tanked his business in one fell swoop, Asher has spent his time trying to rebuild his wealth and forget the past. But he doesn’t understand why Greer blew him off after their night together—until he catches a glimpse of her belly. Now Asher is willing to do whatever it takes to convince Greer she belongs with him. And he’s very skilled at the art of persuasion. About the Author Jessica Clare
This is a pen name for Jill Myles. Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the 'naughty parts' of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier. After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own - stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together. Website: http://jillmyles.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJessicaClare?directed_target_id=0 Twitter: https://twitter.com/_JessicaClare Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/q4272wf Today we are revealing an excerpt from BROOKS by Chelsea M. Cameron. This book is a new adult, contemporary romance novel. It kicks off the new standalone series, Benson Brothers. It is currently up for exclusive pre-order on iBooks.Add BROOKS to GoodreadsBROOKS by Chelsea M. Cameron Benson Brothers #1 / Releasing June 28thGenre: New Adult Contemporary RomancePre-order Now Exclusively on iBooksBOOK BLURB:Brooks Benson is bored, stuck and miserable. When both his parents were unable to continue running the variety store, he dropped out of college and came back home to help. It’s been almost two years and he’s tired of making pizzas and selling scratch tickets to the locals of Hope Harbor, Maine. But as the second oldest Benson brother, he’s the one that stepped up. Now all he can see is a gray future in front of him.Remington “Remi” Tate is disappointed, frustrated and out of options. After dropping out of college and trying to make a go of it in New York, she’s forced to come back home to live with her parents in Hope Harbor. Totally humiliating. Things are looking pretty grim until she starts baking again and runs into Brooks when she visits Benson Variety to ask if they’ll sell her whoopie pies, cakes, and cookies.What was once a high school crush is now something much more mature that hits both of them like a ton of bricks. Brooks is game, as long as they keep things physical. which is just fine with Remi. She’s not planning on sticking around Hope Harbor forever and Brooks is definitely a lifer. They’re just two different to ever build something that could last.Life rarely goes according to plan and what starts as just sex soon turns into something that splashes color into their once-drab lives. For the first time, they find peace and security in one another. But will it last? Or will everything crumble into pieces, leaving them with nothing?-----------------Excerpt: The screen inner door banged open and I looked up, hoping no one was staring at the girl with the purple hair and the Tupperware container she had balanced in her hands. Fortunately, the place was empty. Except for one person. Brooks Goddamn Benson. Goddamn wasn’t his middle name, but it might as well have been. We’d graduated the same year, but we’d never been friends. Not even close. What was he doing here, anyway? Last I heard he was off earning a master’s degree, in a land far, far away from Hope Harbor. He looked up and I locked eyes with him. Mine narrowed and he just sort of… kept staring. Brooks was one of those guys who looked at you like he might be picturing you naked. He cleared his throat. Not my type. Not at all… He scratched his ear. “What can I do for you?” I thought about just turning around and walking out, but I’d already come this far and if he was back in town too, I was probably going to keep running into him. “I was just wondering if you’d be willing to sell some of my baked goods here on commission. But I haven’t had any luck, so I’ll just leave,” I said, but he was looking down at the container. “Did you bring some samples?” he asked. I set the container down, crossed my arms and nodded. I didn’t want this dude eating anything I’d put effort into, but if it would help me get away from my parents’ house, fuck it. I’d do it. “Yeah. So you can judge their quality.” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. I was really blowing this. I needed better people skills. “Do you mind?” Hey, at least he asked. I nodded again and he opened the container. I stood there as he tried each item. “Wow,” he said when he got to the cupcake. “That’s amazing. Where did you learn how to bake?” I was not making small talk with him. “My mom,” I said. He finished the whole thing in three bites. There was some frosting on his nose. I wanted to wipe it off for some reason. Thankfully I caught myself and forced myself to stop looking at his face.Pre-order NowiBooksAUTHOR INFORMATION:Chelsea M. Cameron is a New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car, tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman) and playing fetch with her cat, Sassenach. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.AUTHOR LINKS: Website | Twitter | Facebook | GoodreadsWe are thrilled to share an excerpt of Dark Mafia Prince by New York Times bestselling author, Annika Martin! Releases on June 28th! Blurb: Aleksio Don’t look at me like that. So trusting. Like you think I’m not a monster. Like I won’t wrap your hair in my fist and bend you to my will. Like I won’t sacrifice you, piece by piece, to save my brother. I’m the most dangerous enemy you’ll ever have because every time you look at me, you see somebody good. That friend who died. And when you look at me like that, I die again. Mira I spent years making myself invisible. A good girl, apart from the noise. Then you came back, beautiful and deadly in your Armani suit. Don’t look at me like you still know me, you say. But I remember your smile and those sunny days. Before they lowered your small casket into the ground. Before they told us the prince was dead.Exclusive iBooks Pre-Order Kindle, Kobo, Nook, or google play: Sign up for an alert when Dark Mafia Prince is available: http://eepurl.com/b45HsnEXCERPT The way he uses me is violent. Primitive. Demeaning. And all I can think is, don’t stop. He warned me he was going to be rough. He warned me I’d feel alarmed when he shoved his cock all the way down my throat. I was ready for that. I wasn’t ready for the names he would call me. Or to be so wildly turned on by it all. It’s as if we crossed over to the right side of wrong, and everything is too hot, and his cock is too huge, and I have too many clothes. I want him to lay me out and use me. I want him to do anything to me. Everything to me. I pull back, knowing he’ll shove my head back onto his cock, and he does, fingers digging into my scalp. My nipples rub on his legs, heating—from the friction, maybe—and I nearly get off. It’s pure madness. Usually I need a lot of help. But this is Aleksio being Aleksio. He always went too far, and I always loved him for it. I feel when he’s going to come. “No teeth. Don’t you fucking…” He jerks into my throat. The orgasm goes on forever. He holds my head firmly in his grip, panting. I move my tongue a tiny bit and he clutches my hair. “God! Don’t move.” I feel dazed. Heart pounding. This was the wildest and most powerful sexual experience of my life and I didn’t even come. “Okay,” he whispers after a while, gently extracting himself from me. I sit on the coffee table, wiping my mouth and striking the tears from my cheeks. His eyes shine, and I know he felt power of what just happened. The mad connection. Deep down, I know that neither of us have been here before. He reaches out and brushes my hair from my forehead. That’s when I see the gun in his other hand, dark and cold and black. He was holding a gun? Why? Why would he need a gun? “Don’t worry, the safety was on.” He puts it aside, eyes averted, and then he swipes his phone off the floor. He presses something. A red light goes off. My mouth falls open. “What the hell? What did you do?” “Saved your finger.” Red. A record light. He tucks himself in, zips himself up. He recorded us? Why record us like that? With him holding a gun? Why would he want to make it look like he was being a violent asshole, forcing me to do that? Suddenly everything in the room gets too bright, too real. “No!” I go for the phone. He grabs my wrist, hauling me up off the couch with him. “Leave it.” “You’re going to show that recording to him? No!” I try to twist free. “You can’t!” He can and he will. I’m flooded with shame for how much I enjoyed it. And Aleksio made a movie out of it! To frighten Dad! “Fuck!” I jerk and twist, trying to get at the phone. “You can’t! Please.” “Sorry.” “Oh my God!” That’s when Viktor comes in. He regards us calmly, like it’s no big deal Aleksio is manhandling me. Aleksio tosses the phone to his brother. “Play it.” “No! Don’t!” Viktor taps the screen. “Don’t watch it!” I go for Viktor now, but Aleksio has me. “You can’t send Dad that clip.” “We’re not sending him your bloody finger, isn’t that what you wanted?” Aleksio. So cool, so smooth. Like it meant nothing to him. And me like an idiot, getting off on his rough treatment. Making myself vulnerable to him. Showing him something I never even showed myself. I want to die. Viktor pockets the phone. “Her severed finger would be more extreme. More urgency. But this is more pain for the old man.” “You guys are animals!” Aleksio tightens hold on me. “You need to be done going crazy or we’ll handcuff and gag you.” “You have to erase it!” “You prefer the finger? That’s what you’re saying here?” I trusted Aleksio. I followed him somewhere extreme, and he ripped my heart open. Cutting off my finger seems tame in comparison. “You’re thinking about it? Fuck! No. Fuck that.” He turns to Viktor. “Call and see if the sack of shit’s awake.”ADD TO GOODREADSAbout the Author: Annika Martin is a NYT bestselling author who enjoys writing dirty stories about dangerous criminals! She loves helping animals and kicking snow clumps off the bottom of cars around the streets of Minneapolis, and in her spare time she writes as the RITA award-winning author Carolyn Crane.Connect with Annika: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter | Dirty quote newsletter And She Called Him Romeoby Santana Blair Paradise Cove #1 Publication Date: July 5, 2016 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance When you think you might lose the one person that means everything to you, you learn to play harder… In the game of basketball Jayson Williams definitely knows how to play to win. With the same dedication he shows to the game, Jayson is focused on winning one more thing before leaving Paradise Cove, the heart of Brooke Thomas. However, that’s easier said than done. Brooke has become a master at playing defense when it comes to Jayson’s attempts to win her over. He might be a superstar on the court but when it comes to love, he’s a rookie. And he needs a whole new game plan. Brooke doesn’t have a clear vision of her future but when Jayson’s presence in her life seems to be unavoidable, she is thrown completely off. Her mind and heart are at odds with each other when it comes to the charms of Jayson. Somehow the one person she wanted nothing to do with becomes more important to her than she could ever imagine. As both Jayson and Brooke learn how to fight for what they want, life keeps testing the strength of their bond. Their love is fought hard for but Brooke and Jayson soon realize they will have to fight even harder to keep it.About Santana BlairSantana Blair lives in Connecticut with her husband and three kids. She enjoys long walks through bookstores and stationary aisles. Her personal philosophy is that rainy days are perfect for getting lost in a good book. She’s a sucker for a good love story. When she’s not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and relaxing with family.Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter | Instagram
Title: Rocking Me
Series: Rokk Me Hard #1
Author: Diemme Black
Genre: Contemporary Rocker Romance
Cover Design: Shanoff Formats
Release Date: March 24, 2015
Blurb
Ali has a body with curves in all the right places. But her dark past has prevented her from finding the right guy. She’ll sleep around to have a good time and make herself feel better, but long-term relationships haven’t been her thing. When she randomly trips over some hot-as-hell guy who strikingly resembles her favorite rock star, she’s shocked that he asks her out. Ali can’t believe that a guy like Jace would find her attractive, but she’s more than happy to try to get him in the sack. Jace thinks she is the sexiest thing he’s ever met, but if he blows his cover he may have no chance with her. Will their erotic nights be enough to overcome their dark pasts? Or will they rock each other’s world and finally find romance that has eluded them?
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99c SALE FOR A LIMITED TIME
Also Available AMAZON US / UK
Author Bio
Diemme Black is an author of adult romance novels who loves captivating her readers with stories about real women and masculine men who love them. In writing her books, Diemme gives a voice to women who deserve to be heard and does it in a way that keeps you enthralled and wanting more. And, of course, the romance and erotic scenes are a nice plus.
Diemme has been married to her husband for over a decade and is still madly in love. Diemme lives on the West Coast, likes to travel to all different beach destinations, and loves the sun and the sand. She thoroughly enjoys reading other erotica romance and adult romance novels.
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AMAZON TIGER SHARK IS LIVE! Go 100% Alpha with Landon and Georgia!Blurb: London’s square mile is witness to a revolution, a new breed of business woman. They call us tiger sharks. We out-earn, out-work and out-play our male counterparts. We work the system, play the game and most importantly, win. In a city full of sharks only the most ruthless make it to the top of the pool. The number one rule: never sleep with the boss. Ever. I had no intention of breaking it until I met my new boss. No matter how strong my resolve, Landon Banks can smell weakness like a shark smells blood in the water, and I’m bleeding. The hunter becomes the hunted, lines start to blur, and I have a choice to make. Screw or be screwed. Of course, I never was much good at taking it like a bitch. Landon Banks will be learning to grab his ankles if I have anything to do with it. Things are about to get interesting in the game of predator versus predator. Who will come out on top?BUY IT NOW:Amazon US | Amazon UKExcerpt: Masque is where the darkest of creatures come to play, to fulfil warped desires without judgement or persecution. After all, you can’t judge what you can’t see. I slip the mask out of my hand bag and tie the ribbons at the back of my head, pinning them into my hair with some grips. I knock on the door of what looks like a respectable and extremely expensive town house in the centre of London’s most affluent area. The door opens, revealing a guy in a black suit, a plain black mask covering his eyes. He glances at my membership card and he waves me through. Inside it looks exactly how you’d expect a high end sex club to look. Dark, luxurious, sensual. Rock music fills the room, contrasting wildly with the velvet chaise lounges and crystal chandeliers. Within the club, people resume a new identity. Their masks become their identity. Mine looks like a cat, the faint stripes of a tiger painted along the delicate lines that outline my face and accentuate my sharp cheekbones. There’s a certain thrill in hiding, because in hiding who I am, it allows me to be who I really am. I come here for one reason, to be liberated on every level. I go to the bar and perch on a stool, crossing my legs and allowing my short black dress to ride up my thigh. The waiter slides a martini in front of me and I thank him. I allow my gaze to drift around the room, shopping, because everyone in here is on the menu. My gaze stops on a guy sitting on one of the sofas, his fingers buried in the pussy of the woman straddling him. His mask is distinctive, made of white porcelain and depicting a Greek god. I know from experience that he has a body like a god as well. Sometimes I like to be surprised by a new partner, but other times I like to know that I’m going to be satisfied. Apollo as I call him, always satisfies my more aggressive appetites, and tonight I feeling positively savage after my interaction with Banks. There’s nothing like a powerful man to make my inner alpha bitch rear her head with bared teeth. I down the martini and stand, swaying my hips a little as I make my way to Apollo. He looks up, his eyes meeting mine through the mask that covers his eyes and nose. His lips kick up slightly on one side as he assesses me with a cockiness I’ve come to expect of him. The woman moans, her fingers clinging to his shoulders and scratching over the material of his open shirt. “Come.” I say to him. “Well, it would be rude not to finish the lady.” He says, humour lacing his voice. I tilt my head to the side and study the girl, her long blonde hair cascades down her bare back as she throws her head back. I step close to her and grab a handful of her hair, fisting it. She moans, pushing her chest out. He watches me intensely as his bicep tenses, his fingers sinking deeper inside her. I bend over, dropping my face into the crook of her neck and placing a kiss to her soft skin before sweeping my tongue up the side of her throat. Her breath hitches and she trembles gently. I lift my eyes to meet his, and I see the spark of lust in them, the need eating away at him as I wrench her head back even further and slide my free hand down her chest, pinching her nipple between my thumb and index finger. She bucks and writhes, moaning like a wanton slut as she rides his hand. “Fuck.” He says, completely enraptured by the sight of her coming apart under our combined touch. When she’s done, he practically throws her off him and rises to his feet. My eyes instantly hone in on the bulge straining against the material of his trousers. His shirt remains open, the hard planes of his stomach on display. I jerk my head towards the stairs and he follows me without question. This house has twenty rooms, each one identical to the other. For those who like their play a little rougher, there’s the basement which houses a dungeon. I have certain tastes, but they don’t venture into ‘chain me up and beat me’ territory. We pass a line of doors, all with a red ribbon tied on the door. These are the occupied rooms, although some people don’t bother with the ribbon in the hope that someone walks in on them. Each to their own. Then of course there are those who like to be watched, like that girl, they just fuck in one of the many public rooms downstairs. I push open the door and step inside, watching him close it behind him with a resounding click. I take slow steps backwards into the room, until a chaise bumps the backs of my knees. He pushes his shirt over his shoulders and allows it to fall to the floor. Apollo is a good looking guy, and he’s utterly shameless. He likes sex anyway he can get it, and if it makes him come, he’s game, the harder the better, any means necessary. I reach behind me and lower the zip on my dress, shrugging the straps off my shoulders and allowing the material to pool at my ankles, exposing my bra. Of course with that mask, I can’t make out his expression clearly. It makes him seem hard and implacable. For some reason it makes me think of Landon. It shouldn’t be a turn on but it is. I step out of the dress at my feet and hook my thumbs into my knickers. I pause for a second, call it dramatic effect if you like, before slowly sliding them down my legs. Still he doesn’t make a move or breathe a sound. Lowering myself onto the chaise lounge behind me, I smile and beckon him forward with a crook of my finger. He obliges, crossing the room and coming to a halt right in front of me. I reach up and trail my fingers down his firm stomach before I unfasten his trousers and shove them down his thighs, exposing his hard cock just inches from my face. I’ll suck dick like a pro when the feeling strikes me, but right now, it doesn’t. “Get on your knees.” I command. He steps out of the material at his feet, kicking off his shoes and socks quickly before he does as I say and gets on his knees, completely naked in front of me. I reach behind me and unhook my bra, sliding it down my arms slowly. He watches my every move as I strip, until I’m left wearing nothing but my Louboutins. I trail my fingers over my thighs and slowly spread my legs open. Wide open. His eyes lock on my pussy and I see his breaths pick up with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Kiss me.” I say quietly. He doesn’t hesitate as he grips the insides of my thighs with both hands and leans in. I feel his hot breath hit my pussy before his lips do, brushing gently across my clit. I bite my lip and lean back, raking my nails into the unforgiving material beneath me. His fingers dig into the sensitive skin of my thighs as he lashes me with his tongue. This is why I pick him. No questions, no bullshit, just pleasure and compliance. He works his tongue over my clit until I’m trembling, lingering on that beautiful precipice and just waiting to go tumbling off the edge. One more flick of his tongue, and I break, rolling my hips against his mouth as I ride out the orgasm. After shocks ripple through my torso as I lean my head against the back of the chaise, trying to catch my breath. I close my eyes, a small smile on my lips, because that was good, but what’s about to come is even better. Sex is about physical and mental satisfaction, and I like to release in every way before I leave this club. My eyes flash open as I drag myself upright. His hands are still on my thighs and my orgasm is all over his lips. I close my legs, pushing to my feet and dragging a hand through my hair as I step around him. He doesn’t move. I go to my discarded hand bag and take out my favourite toy, also know as The Destroyer. I clip the harness in place around my pelvis and yank the straps tight- don’t want it slipping now. This club is extremely accommodating, and I browse the shelf that’s mounted in the corner, browsing over the range of lubes. I pick up one called Sex Water, the slogan written on the bottle reads; ‘for when spit and courage isn’t enough’. It couldn’t be more apt. Apollo glances over his shoulder, watching as I move toward him with the big purple cock protruding from between my hips. He smirks. “You could at least suck a guy’s dick first.” I laugh as I move beside him, raking my fingers through his short hair. “You know I make you come harder with a cock in your arse.” He shrugs. “True.” The thing about coming to a sex club is that all the taboo’s that are unacceptable outside this room, are completely acceptable inside it. Apollo likes a dick in his arse. He likes me to fuck him. He gets off on it. Simple. Apollo gets an orgasm out of it, and me? I get to plough the fuck out of a guy. I get to own him and make him my bitch for the small amount of time that I’m in here with him. Trust me, to a girl who is constantly bowing and scraping to men inside the office, fucking him is extremely empowering. “Stand up and bend over.” I order He stands up and bends over, grabbing the back of the chaise lounge firmly. “Spread your legs.” I tell him and he does without hesitation. His cheeks spread and I get a view of his waxed balls and arsehole. I guess if you’re into this kind of shit then you need to make sure the grass is cut. I squirt a generous helping of lube on The Destroyer, before putting some on my finger and smearing it along his crack, pressing against his hole slightly and going lower until I cup his balls, rolling them in the palm of my hand. He moans as I squeeze them gently and then release them. I grab his hips, his hot skin burning against my fingers as I line up the purple cock and push forward, pressing against him until the tip of it disappears inside him. He drops his head forward, a ragged gasp leaving his lips as I push just a little more. I wait, letting him adjust. When I feel him relax completely, I slam home until my thighs brush the backs of his. A choked groan fills the air as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Take it.” I tell him, my voice laced with warning. Of course he’s twice my size, and could tell me to fuck off easily, but he won’t, because this is what he likes, and I give it to him. I give him a few seconds and then I move, pulling out and thrusting back in slowly. “Fuck.” He hisses, his back muscles tensing and rolling beneath his skin. I drag my nails over his back, relishing in the way he shivers, and then I grip his hips and I fuck him. Hard. The straps of the toy rub against my clit and a low moan escapes my lips. I fuck him until a thin sheen of sweat covers my body and he’s pushing back against me, panting and groaning whilst he fists his cock with one hand, his arm jerking furiously. I slow the pace, thrusting deeper, harder. He lets out a long guttural groan as every muscle tenses and then quivers violently. I keep going, fucking him until he’s begging me to stop, slamming his hand on the back of the chaise like he’s tapping out, and then I pull out of him. His legs give way and collapses, laying on his back on the thick carpet, breathing heavily. His come is all over the chaise and the carpet, and I smile with a strange sort of satisfaction at having made such a mess. I go to the adjoining en-suite and take the strap-on off, rinsing it in the sink. When I walk back into the room, Apollo has climbed to his feet and is getting dressed. He looks a little worse for wear, but then he always does and yet he always comes back for more the next week. I pick my dress up before slipping it back on, fastening the zip and turning to check my reflection in the mirror beside the door. I straighten my mask slightly, throw the strap-on in my hand bag before I stride out of the room without a backward glance. This is what I do every Friday night. It’s my release and at times my salvation, hell, I’d even call it therapy. We all find different ways of coping with the stress of life, this is mine.About the Author: Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards. Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy. LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.Author Links:Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon | Twitter
Title: Taken by Techie
Series: Satan's Savages MC #5
Author: K E Osborn
Genre: MC Romance
Cover Design: Swish Design & Editing
Cover Model: Drew Truckle
Release Date: July 18, 2016
Blurb
My name is Techie
Gadgets and gizmos are my weapons of choice.
I'm a hardcore tech guru for the Satan's Savages MC.
My life's not about love, it's about lust and the pleasures it brings.
My name is Shay.
I'm a legacy - a daughter and sister of the club.
My family doesn't want me to fall for a biker.
But he caught my attention... right from the start.
He is lost.
She is finding her way.
Can they find a new hope together?
Or will everyone and everything stand in their way?
Shay had been a part of this world since her birth. She knows bikers and isn't scared of what this life entails. But when an unknown threat torments the club, can Techie protect her from their faceless enemy, or is there an even greater enemy outside of the club that could tear them apart?
Watch as Shay is completely Taken by Techie.
Pre-order Link
Also Available
Satan’s Savages MC Series books are not intended to be standalone, they must be read as part of the series
Author Bio
Australian author K E Osborn was born and raised in Adelaide, South Australia. With a background in graphic design and a flair for all things creative, she felt compelled to write the story brewing in her mind.
Writing gives her life purpose. It makes her feel, laugh, cry, and get completely enveloped with the characters and their story lines. She feels completely at home when writing and wouldn’t consider doing anything else.
Author Links
We are very excited to bring you the cover for the next book from Jade Sinner. CHERRY POPPER is the first book in the Reckless Series. All books are stand-alones with HEA's and guaranteed to make you melt.My best friend’s little sister. That’s all Emma Briggs is to me. I keep trying to convince myself that statement is true but it’s a lie. It’s her face I see every time I close my eyes. It’s her touch I yearn to feel. It’s her lips I long to kiss. It’s her cherry I want to pop. We were separated by time and distance, but now she’s back in my life. And everything has changed. Every. Thing. She’s no longer that kid tagging along behind me. The special bond I’ve shared with her—for as long as I can remember—has become something so different. Something so forbidden. Something so hot. Desire is telling me to do it—to pop her cherry. It would be so easy to give in and take her because she'll feel so good. My best friend’s little sister is all grown up. And I want her. She. Will. Be. Mine. ADD TO GOODREADS Jade Sinner is two friends, two New York Times bestselling authors, and two chicks with a secret. We like to write sexy, dirty books—the kind of books that would make both of our mothers blush. Since we don't want to see that across the Thanksgiving dinner table, we came together and created Jade. If you have a secret too—if you like to read books that make you not only blush but flush—if you like quick reads, hot guys, naughty love stories, super-steamy sex scenes, and the promise of always having an HEA (Happily Ever After) then we have the books for you. We won't tell your secret if you don't tell ours... Then again, if you like our books and you don't mind telling the world about our dirty little secret, by all means, please, share! We promise to keep writing until we have enough to keep you and your friends busy with bookgasms late into the night! You're welcome! FACEBOOKComing June 30th Add to your Goodreads shelf now. What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams? Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent--the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He's the one. Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can't get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn't always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?
Celia Aaron Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading. Author Links Twitter Facebook Web Goodreads Amazon page Instagram Sloane Howell Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy. Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading. Author Links Twitter Facebook Web Goodreads Amazon page Instagram
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