Sweet Torment by Georgia Cates
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A sexy little read!

If your looking for a short sexy read then look no further. Sweet Torment is that and more. I loved the characters Bram and Claudia and really enjoyed their story.
Bram has loved Claudia all her life only problem, she's his best friends little sister. She grew up following the boys everywhere. He has watched out and protected her now that's she's all grown up his thoughts are totally different then they used to be. He loves her, he wants her, he's determined to have her.
The only thing I would change about this book is I really wished it had been a full length novel. I really did enjoy these two and they have amazing chemistry.

                  I’m a doctor. Mobster. Killer.   My hands are covered in filth. I don’t have the right to touch anything as clean and pure as Ellison MacAllister.       I distance myself … always remaining obscure, composed, restrained.   Careful to never allow my eyes to linger too long.   Careful to hide my interest.   Careful to keep my burning desire buried beneath the surface.       I do it for her—suffer in silence—because it’s what is best for the woman I love.   And she has no idea.       She’ll be initiated as a Fellowship member soon. One of my mafia brothers will go through endurance so he’ll earn the right to claim her.   Make her his wife.   Kill. Me. Slowly.       I’m running out of time. Only a month remains before she’s beyond my reach forever.   I want to taste her. Share sleepless nights. Ride out her storm.   I want to give her the kind of nights she will still feel between her legs the next morning.   I want us to share the kind of passion that forms on our skin and drips down to saturate the sheets.   Between the sweat and the moans and the messy hair, I want her to know how hard she’s been loved.       To have her is to taint her.   I should stay away. But I won’t. I can’t.   I’m a selfish bastard.   A selfish bastard in love.    

AMAZON

               

 

Prologue: Ellison’s POV

    I left everything behind. Every. Thing. My possessions. My career. My friends. My past. My present.   My future.   I’ve traded my nursing clogs for rain boots. Shorts and tank tops for jackets and scarves. Sunscreen for an umbrella.   I’ve been calling bonny Scotland home for the last nine months. I spent the first five weeks living in a bubble within my sister’s domain where the criminal world known as The Fellowship didn’t exist. I believed Bleu and Sin were a normal husband and wife expecting not one, but two babies, to go along with the precious baby girl they’d adopted. They were a beautiful family. A living and breathing fairy tale in my mind. He was her rich and handsome Scottish knight in a shining black luxury sedan. She was his beautiful, badass princess who carried a Beretta . . . but still needed saving.   I envied the fuck out of them.   And then the bubble burst.   That was almost eight months ago. Everything changed. I know about the brotherhood’s world of organized crime. Or at least as much as any outsider can know without being clipped. Burned. Marbh. I don’t know what that word means but I’ve heard Sin use it with an angry tone more than once when talking to a brother. I haven’t asked but I’m pretty sure it means somebody fucked up big time and they’re about to get whacked.   Fellowship 101. Lying. Cheating. Stealing. Killing. That’s just the shortlist. I got the CliffsNotes version but it didn’t change my mind about staying in Edinburgh. Nothing will ever separate me from my sister or those precious babies.   Sin’s finally resigned to my choice to become part of the brotherhood. He agreed to let me attend an official Fellowship function tonight for the first time. The babies’ consecration—their official dedication to the brotherhood where Bleu and Sin vow to raise the children in the way of The Fellowship.   Oddly, I didn’t feel surrounded by liars, cheaters, thieves, and murderers when I was at the consecration ceremony earlier tonight. I felt the deep love The Fellowship has for Sin, Bleu, and their three babies. Their affection radiated like a fire emitting both light and warmth. It was a beautiful thing, yet one lone, uncontained spark has the power to burn down everything within its path.   My sister calls those dangerous people family.   And I will as well. Soon.   The normal procedure for someone who isn’t born into The Fellowship, but wishes to become a member, is to participate in endurance. The man wishing to join must prove he is strong enough to endure a beating that will send him so close to the gates of hell, he’ll return with singed eyebrows.   Barbaric.   The case is different for a woman. No female has ever undergone endurance. Not even my tough-as-a-muthafucking-former-FBI-agent sister. Sin voluntarily stood in her place so she wouldn’t be hurt. He was beaten to a bloody pulp so his people would accept the woman he loved as one of their own. She was the first of her kind to be adopted into the brotherhood by this method. And that’s what a man, a Fellowship brother, will have to do for me.   Bleu says it’s an act of love in its purest form. Sounds more like an act of stupidity. But apparently, a necessary idiocy if I’m to stay.   It isn’t right that some innocent man—the word innocent being used loosely—should endure that kind of suffering so I can be with my own family. But I don’t think these people really get the gist of what’s right anyway. They aren’t exactly sitting around polishing their halos.   I agree with one thing Bleu says: No man will volunteer to go through something so barbaric unless he loves me madly. Men are horny bastards, but I don’t know a one who would sign on for endurance just to get between my legs. That means he will truly love me. And no one in The Fellowship will ever question it.   I haven’t been allowed to mingle with the brothers with the exception of Jamie, Leith, and Mitch. Sin says I need to be properly introduced before that can happen. He wants the brothers to know and understand exactly who I am and how he expects them to behave toward me. He acts like the big brother I never had. I like it; it’s sweet. But I almost feel inclined to tell him it’s unnecessary. I know how to manage men even when they have no clue how to handle me. Just call me the man whisperer.   Thane and Isobel plan to throw some kind of bash at their house to introduce me to the brotherhood. Sounds very much like a matchmaking party to hook me up with a bro. But it can’t happen until this takeover thing with their enemy, The Order, is finished. That means I’m a good two months from being introduced into the fold and matched with the man who will take responsibility for me. My future husband.   All of this worry and uncertainty would be unnecessary if the beautiful man driving me home from the consecration would open his eyes and see what’s right in front of him: me, standing before him with my heart in my hands. Silent but wanting so, so, so badly to give him everything I have to offer.   Jamie Breckenridge. The blind bastard just won’t see me. But how can he when he rarely even looks my way? I’m as unnoticed as the air around him. I exist. I’m right next to him. And I’m invisible.   I’m standing on the corner of Screw This and Keep Pursuing and it’s time to choose which route I’ll take. I’m leaning toward giving up but it’s killing me. I’m Ellison MacAllister. A white flag isn’t part of my repertoire. Normally.                     a Rafflecopter giveaway   Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.   When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.   Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.

           

Craft beer and the sexy men who brew it.

A beautiful neighbor. A complete stranger. That’s all she was when I moved in next door.

Adelyn Maxwell is my neighbor but she’s no girl next door. The more I come to know her, the more I discover she’s a good girl with a lovely dark side. And maybe I don’t want her to stay on her side of the fence.

I want to disturb the rhythm of her pulse.

I want to see the way her hair spills on the bed when she lies beneath me.

I want her to teach me the dirty pretty things she desires behind closed doors. And she does.

But mostly I want to leave my mark on the most intimate, untouched part of her body. Her heart.

A seemingly insignificant intersection of our lives neither of us recalls suddenly becomes a pivotal moment in our future. We aren’t strangers at all. And our paths aren’t crossing for the first time.

These twists and turns of fate will become one of two things: a wrecking ball to tear us apart or the connection to bond us together forever.

   

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Oliver Thorn’s POV “Control. And how I feel when you exert your strength over me. Domination. Power. Control. All of it turns me the fuck on.” “Why?” “There’s something primal and exhilarating about a man who takes complete control in the bedroom. That’s what it’s about for me. I want to feel desire. Real desire. I need a man who will grab me and make me feel small and vulnerable and feminine. Without hurting me.” She releases my hands and sits upright, still mounted on top of me. “Outside of the bedroom, it’s all a level playing field. I’m an independent woman, and I control everything in my life. But in the bedroom . . . I want to be controlled by a strong man.” “And choked.” “I need an alpha male. I crave the dominance and show of strength he has over me.” She reaches for my hands and intertwines our fingers. “You’re the first man I’ve trusted in years. I couldn’t have let anyone else put their hands on me that way. It had to be you.” She releases my hands and leans over me, propping on her lower arms, but her hands grasp my face. She presses a soft, closemouthed kiss on my lips. “Only you, Thorn.” She wants an alpha. A controller. A choker. God help me, I like what I just did to her. I want to do it again. And that’s totally fucked up. I spent my childhood being controlled, dominated, choked. What kind of person does it make me if I do those things to her? Even if it’s what she wants? “I can’t, Max.” She presses her forehead to mine. “You can. You did.” I did. And it was wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong. “But not again.” “I saw your face. You liked my submission. You liked putting your hand on me like that. You weren’t repulsed. And in those few moments when you held my life in your hands, I belonged to you. I knew it. You knew it. And you liked it.”

 

  Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet. When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it. Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.