Category / Endearing Heroine

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Dying to Please by Linda Howard

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Ballantine
Hero: Thompson Cahill
Heroine: Sarah Stevens
Sensuality: 3
Published On: August 29, 2002
Started On: January 28, 2022
Finished On: January 30, 2022

“Don’t you think she’s hot?”
He sighed. “Yeah, I think she’s hot.” In fact, he thought she was hotter than hot; she was scorching. The problem was, he’d already suffered third-degree burns in the relationship wars, and he didn’t have any skin to spare in another losing round.

When I initially discovered the goldmine that is Linda Howard novels, I went a little crazy and binge read everything I could get my hands on and never regretted the fact. Well, I regret it a bit because authors like Ms. Howard are scarce and few authors can live up to her exceptionally well written books featuring heroes of the kind that makes you swoon and palpitate in equal doses. For some reason, I had missed out on reading Dying to Please during my initial bingeing phase eons back, and I was glad for the fact too, because I could enjoy a novel from Ms. Howard and revel in the first time feels as if I were discovering her writing anew.

30 year old Sarah Stevens is butler/security guard to a retired judge who is 85 years of age. Having spent three years with the judge, Sarah is fond of him and looks upon her vocation as more than just her job. With no commitments in her life otherwise to tie her down (which she has worked hard to keep that way), Sarah dreams of traveling the world in style once she is no longer needed in her position.

Things turn a bit harrowing however, when a burglary attempt at the judge’s home is thwarted by Sarah, bringing her to the limelight via a feature done on television following her act of heroism. Amongst those admiring from afar is the villain, who wants Sarah to be his, and he is not going to stop until he fulfills his need to have her, even if it means dispensing of people along the way if need be.

When the judge is killed, leaving Sarah devastated and Detective Thomson Cahill after her as the prime suspect, it takes Sarah everything she has to move past the grief and get herself back together. Cahill whom she had fell instantly in lust with the moment they meet initially after the attempted burglary, Sarah who has no intention of embarking on any serious relationship, especially not with a man who is bitter about his ugly divorce just a year back, finds herself entangled with Cahill in a way that is all consuming.

Fate always seems to have the last laugh as Cahill is drawn to Sarah in equal fervor and before long, they are heating up the sheets and then some as the fire that burns between them consumes them both. Things come to a head however, when Sarah is lured into the lion’s den by the machinations of none other than the killer, who courts Sarah with every intention of making her his, because he is the only one who deserves a diamond like Sarah. Cahill has his work cut out for him as he comes to the realization of the massive blunder he has made when it comes to Sarah, and that it might already be too late for him to make amends if the killer were to have their way with Sarah.

Dying to Please is the kind of novel that offers engrossing characters both main and secondary, and a villain who makes the hair at the back of your neck stand up. The romantic elements are strong, giving the reader the perfect balance of suspense and romance, alongside with sex scenes of the kind that makes your insides hum. I swear to God that authors like Ms. Howard does a better job in rousing the emotions of readers with their love scenes than authors of the most explicit erotica can, and that is certainly saying something. The scenes of passion in this one were off-the-charts hot and it is definitely an experience I would not be forgetting anytime soon!

Sarah was a lovely heroine; equal parts strength and gentle femininity that was appealing on every level. Cahill on the other hand is the kind of hero that you fall for and hard, and at the same time, makes you want to bash your head against the wall as well. But ain’t that the fun part of reading a romance that is well done? Cahill is delicious, undoubtedly so – and the scars he carries from his marriage are all too real and one can understand why he puts up such a fuss when he falls so badly for Sarah. I just wish that Sarah had gone traveling as she had wanted all her adult life, and given the cocky Cahill something to really chew on as he stews back home, dying to grovel at Sarah’s feet to beg for her forgiveness. Now that, would have been fun!

Recommended for fans of finely balanced romantic suspense. Ms. Howard is a master storyteller!

Final Verdict: In Dying to Please, Ms. Howard offers a unique amalgam of elements that makes this romantic suspense stand out in every sense imaginable!

Favorite Quotes

He was big, dwarfing her with his size, her head tucked neatly under his chin. His furnacelike heat wrapped around her. He would be heavy, and probably dominating, but she could also imagine him lying back and letting her set the pace—
“Stay,” he said again, as if she hadn’t refused.
She hung on to her sanity, barely. “That wouldn’t be smart.”
“Fuck smart.” His hot breath stirred over the fine hairs on the back of her neck, making her shiver again. His low voice made the word a weapon to be used, a deeper level of intimacy between them. “It would sure as hell be good.” He stroked her neck where his breath had warmed her skin. “If you like it slow, I’ll be slow. If you like it hard and fast, then that’s the way you’ll get it.”

His hands closed over her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples. His erection was a rock-hard bulk in his jeans, pushing against her bottom. Her legs threatened to give way beneath her, and she heard her own breathing, shallow and rapid, almost panting.
“Easy?” he whispered in her ear. “Or hard?”
Hard. Dear God, hard.

His heavy weight bore her down, overwhelming her, the way it had all the previous times he’d pinned her. While she appreciated his efforts not to hurt her, she was as helpless now against him as she had been the first time he’d pinned her. Her only hope had been to remain on her feet, evade him and look for her chance, but he’d already taken her down.
Desperately she braced one foot on the mat and pushed, seeking leverage. He shifted to counter her move, and his hips slid between the open V of her legs, the smooth heat of his penis pressing into her labia. He froze, a sound almost like a growl rumbling in his throat. As if he couldn’t help himself he pushed, and the thick bulbous head began to enter her.

Desperately she grabbed the pipe behind her and held on. Spots swam in front of her eyes and her entire body bucked as she came. She heard her own hoarse cries, but they sounded distant, as if someone else made them. For a long, magic moment nothing existed but her body and the firestorm of sensation as her inner contractions peaked, then slowly began to ebb. Her thighs had been clenched around his head but now her legs fell limply open.
He was licking her.

“Just a little closer,” he crooned, slipping his thumb inside her again. Then he replaced his hand with his mouth and he kissed her, deeply, his tongue probing, while his wet thumb moved farther down and pushed into her in a bold, shocking thrust that made stars explode in her head. She came again, convulsing, screaming, trying to fight him because the sensations were too sharp to be borne. He held her down, drawing out the moment, holding her at the peak.
Finally she collapsed, trembling, her ears ringing as she struggled to find some measure of control.

“Now!” she shrieked, maddened by the completion that lurked just out of her grasp. She fought the cuffs like a madwoman. “Take them off!”
“All right, just hold still!” He subdued her, holding her down as he got the key from under the edge of the mat where he’d stashed it. He stretched higher on her body as he reached for the cuffs, forcing his penis deeper, and something very close to a howl erupted from her throat. Alarmed, afraid he’d injured her, he hastily unlocked the handcuffs and started to draw back from her.
Sarah lunged upward, locking her legs around his in a vise as she grabbed his ass and pulled him in tighter, as deep as she could take him. There, right there—ah! Her hips pumped as she pistoned herself on him, and she felt the peak coming closer . . . closer . . . She screamed, caught in an orgasm more intense than the others, so intense she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t see. She heard him make an inhuman sound; then he was thrusting hard, groaning, his arms locked around her as he began coming again.

He gave her what she wanted, coming down on top of her and crushing her into the mattress with the force of his thrusts, his hands under her hips grinding her even harder on him. She came, bowing under him, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs while her nails sank into his shoulders. It was always fast the first time, fast and hard, raw in its intensity. He climaxed right after she did, and as they lay together in the aftermath, she felt herself begin to drift to sleep, so deeply content it went all the way down to a molecular level. This was where she belonged, right here with him. The “here” didn’t matter; it could be anywhere, so long as she was with Cahill.

“Your ex-wife has to be the biggest idiot walking the earth.”
He gave her a startled look, then shrugged. “Make that a two-timing, vindictive idiot. What made you think of her?”
“You. You’re neat, domesticated, intelligent—”
“Keep going,” he said.
“—good-looking, sense of humor, sexy—”
“And yours.”
She stopped, her stomach suddenly flip-flopping. “Are you?” she whispered.
He put the milk in the refrigerator and gave her a wry smile. “Oh, yeah.”
She took a deep breath. “Wow.”
“That’s kind of the way it takes me, too.”

It was a long time happening, but finally her hips began to move to meet him, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. He kept his pace slow, loving the feel of her tightening around him as if she was trying to hold him inside. The pulse at the base of her throat was hammering, and her nipples were tight, flushed with color. Tension coiled in her finely honed body, lifting her to every inward thrust, her legs sliding around his and locking in that way she had of holding him in, as if she couldn’t get enough of him.
Her head tilted back, a groan sounding deep in her throat.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Duncan’s Bride by Linda Howard

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: MIRA
Hero: Gideon Reese Duncan
Heroine: Madelyn Sanger Patterson
Sensuality: 3.5
Published On: May 25, 1998
Started On: January 28, 2022
Finished On: January 28, 2022

WANTED: A WIFE for able-bodied rancher. Must be of steady character, want children, and be able to work on ranch. Age 25 to 35 preferable.

Duncan’s Bride by Linda Howard is a favorite of mine from long before. I don’t particularly remember why a review for this delightful book was never written by yours truly, but I aim to rectify it this time around having come upon that sad realization.

34 year old Gideon Reese Duncan (Duncan) is a rancher who lost everything to his ex-wife, having slowly built back his life from the ashes that were left behind in the wake of the departure of the woman who had felt entitled to take half of everything that he had owned. Having crawled his way back to a position from which he could start thinking about a future again, Duncan decides it is time to find himself a wife once again, but this time he is going to be smart about it. There would be no courting her, no seeking love – just a plain old arrangement of convenience where he would get what he wants out of the marriage without the emotional and financial entanglements.

28 year old Madelyn Sanger Patterson (Maddie) is restless with her lot in life and yearns for something that would take her out of the rut her life has become. When she stumbles across the ad placed for a wife, something in her urges her to act and respond to the call. Ultimately, even though Duncan believes that he might be making the wrong choice once again given how drawn to Maddie he is physically, there is no denying fate when something is written down to happen, and that is exactly how Duncan finds himself married to Maddie, a woman who is accustomed to all sorts of comforts in life, someone Duncan has misgivings about her suitability to the kind of life that is ranching.

However, Duncan soon finds out that his wife is not a shrinking violet he thought she would be and is more than capable of living up to the expectations of any rancher looking for a partner who is willing to give it their all. The sexual attraction between the two is something Duncan embraces wholeheartedly, a bonus under the circumstances when he had been resigned to a life of comfort and companionship when he had initially sought to get married.

For Maddie, Duncan is the man who makes everything within her come alive, the missing piece of her soul that perfectly aligns with her desires and needs. While Duncan is a hard man to reach emotionally, Maddie believes that she is making headway, slowly but surely, up till the point where Duncan’s stubborn pride gets in the way, putting her everything they have together on the line. But Maddie being who she is, is willing to give Duncan the kind of fight he would not win easily, and that is one of the many reasons why this book stands out in a big way.

Duncan’s Bride is a story that features a hero that can only be defined as alpha. Once bitten, twice as shy, Duncan guards his emotions closely and his checkbook even closer. Having learnt his lesson when it comes to preying women, Duncan is determined that no one else would get the best of him, not even the surprise that is his mail-ordered bride Maddie. Thwart her attempts he does, especially when it comes to considering her as an equal partner in their marriage, the fear of losing everything once again preying on his mind, when Duncan does not realize that going down that road he is sure to lose what is most precious to him above everything else.

While Duncan at times makes you want to give him a couple slaps (and hard) because of his stubborn nature and that formidable pride of his, that is also part of the reason why this story worms its way into your heart in a way that is undefinable. Maddie is the perfect antidote to the poison that Duncan has consumed even though he cannot see it for what it is, and when the inevitable happens, Duncan obviously thinks the worst, to be proven spectacularly wrong in a way that makes all the heartache worth it. The grovel game in this novel is strong, which gives it the perfect five stars the story so deserves.

Recommended for fans of marriage of convenience trope romances featuring strong, stubborn, and prideful alpha heroes and their equally stubborn and strong women who do not give up. Duncan and Maddie do not disappoint!

Final Verdict: Duncan’s Bride is a story that I will never tire of; the arrogant and virile hero being brought to his very knees makes the angst-ridden pages all worth it!

Favorite Quotes

Vaguely she heard other people around them. It didn’t matter. He was making love to her with his mouth, arousing her, satisfying her, consuming her. He increased the slant of his head, tucking her head more firmly into his shoulder, and kissed her with all the burning sensuality she had sensed in him on first sight.
Her heart lurched as pleasure overrode shock, swiftly escalating to an almost unbearable tension. She not only welcomed the intrusion of his tongue, she met it with her own, making love to him as surely as he was to her.

He tossed the washcloth into the basin and took his hat off, dropping it onto the floor. The arm behind her back tightened and drew her in to him as he bent his head, and his mouth closed over hers.
It was the same way he’d kissed her in the airport, the way he hadn’t kissed her since. His mouth was hard and hot, urgent in his demands. His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she met it with her own, welcoming, enticing, wanting more.

The sunlight sifted down through the leaves, dappling his gleaming skin, and his eyes were fiercely primitive as he kneed her thighs apart. He looked wild and magnificent, and she made a soft whimpering sound of need as she reached for him.
He tore her clothes, and she didn’t care. The seam of her chemise gave way beneath his twisting fingers, and the taut rise of her breasts thrust nakedly up at him. He sucked strongly at her while he shoved her skirt to her waist and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underpants. She lifted her hips to aid him, but heard the rip of lace, and then he threw the shreds to one side.

He undid her skirt and stripped it down her legs; then she parted her thighs and reached for him again, and he couldn’t wait a minute longer. The sight of those sleek legs opening for him was an image that had haunted his dreams. He’d intended to be easier with her this time, but as soon as he penetrated she made a wild sound in her throat and her hips rolled, and he went mad again.

Green eyes locked with gray. He hooked his fingers in the hem of her skirt and jerked it upward, at the same time spreading her legs and moving forward between them. She sank her hands into his wet hair and held his head while her mouth attacked his with a fierce kiss that held mingled anger and desire. He said, “Maddie,” in a rough tone as he tore her underpants out of the way, then jerked at his belt and the fastening of his jeans.
It was just as it had been in the back of the truck. The rush of passion was hard and fast and overwhelming.

He unbuttoned her blouse while she performed the same service for his shirt. When he had undipped her bra he slowly brought their bare torsos together, turning her slightly from side to side so that her breasts rubbed his chest and his curly hair rasped against her nipples, making her arch in his arms.
“God, I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered.
“I don’t want you to.”

Release left her weak, pliable. She lay back across the hood of the car, breathing hard, her eyes closed. Reese gripped her hips and began thrusting hard and fast, wanting that sweet weakness for himself. Her eyes slowly opened as he drove into her, and she closed her hands around his wrists. “I love you,” she said again.
Until he heard the words once more he hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed them, wanted them. She was his, and had been from the moment she’d walked through the airport toward him. He groaned, and his hips jerked; then the pleasure hit him, and he couldn’t think for a long time. All he could do was feel, and sink forward onto her soft body and into her arms.

She felt drained, more exhausted than before. She lay limply as he knelt between her legs and tore at his clothes, throwing them aside. She could barely open her eyes as he positioned himself and then invaded her with a slow, heavy thrust that carried him into her to the hilt. As always, she was faintly startled by the overwhelming sense of fullness as she adjusted to him.
His full weight was on her, crushing her downward. There was nothing gentlemanly about him now, only the need to enter her as deeply as possible, to carry the embrace to the fullest so that there was no part of her that didn’t feel his possession.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBooks | Apple | BookDepo

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Planet X by Evangeline Anderson

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Kurt Teague
Heroine: Krisa Elyison
Sensuality: 4
Published On: February 18, 2017
Started On: January 19, 2022
Finished On: January 21, 2022

“I know you’re there, little girl. I can smell you.” He had the deepest voice Krisa had ever heard, like someone rubbing a handful of gravel against a stone wall. The blindfolded head lifted and pointed in her direction, that savage grin a white slice in his dark face.

Having grown tired of lackluster novels, I went on a book forage quest on Amazon and landed myself with Planet X by Evangeline Anderson. This is science fiction erotica and I enjoyed every single bit of it to the fullest. Planet X is quite the lengthy read; 460 pages in total, and yet I read this within two days, which says a lot about the enjoyment factor, when I am barely able to sometimes finish a 120 paged novel in five days at times given my busy schedule.

It certainly helped that the story has serious vibes of Pitch Black starring Vin Diesel (huuuge fan, by the way), where a transport ship crash-lands on an inhospitable planet, their survival depending upon none other than yours truly, the dangerous convict on-board. If you have watched Pitch Black at any point in time, the initial description of the hero alone in the story is enough to understand what I mean.

“The prisoner had a broad chest and thick arms roped with muscle that led down to a narrow waist and powerful thighs spread wide in a lazy slouch.”

This is exactly how I recall Vin Diesel when we are first introduced to his character in the movie.

The story begins as Krisa Elyison is traveling aboard The Star Princess, a light tonnage merchant-class cruise ship that carries cargo and passengers from one planet to another. She was traveling from her home planet of Capellia, otherwise known as the Bride Planet, to Lynix Prime where she is to get married to her betrothed whom she had belonged to since she was 13 years of age.

Krisa is looking for a little bit adventure (not too much and just the right amount) before she reaches her destination and settles into the life that had been decided for her from a long time back. However, she gets more than she bargained for when she encounters Kurt Teague, an escaped convict who is aboard the vessel being transported to prison once again. Teague has a reputation that precedes himself, and the little tidbits that Kris learns about him should have lessened her fascination with him, but scared as she might be, she finds herself helplessly drawn towards him.

The unthinkable happens when their vessel crash lands and Krisa’s survival depends on none other than Teague. Teague is a man who was born as a slave on his planet, where freedom had never been an option. However, he had learnt the price of freedom which had earned him the reputation that makes most wary of him.

From the point at which her survival depends on Teague, Krisa fights an internal battle to resist all that is the man of her dreams, Teague who initially just fascinated her because of the dangerous aura around him, turning into someone whose innate qualities she comes to learn and love over the course of the days during which Krisa does her own growing up from the naive young woman she was when she stepped aboard The Star Princess.

However, even as Krisa finally gives into the heat that grows exponentially by the day between them, their future is one that is filled with uncertainty and fraught with danger. After all, what does an escaped convict have in common with a lady who has been born and bred to be the perfect wife of a man who would be able to give her a life of comfort for years to come? That is where the angst factor of the story comes from and I have to say I reveled in every single minute of it.

As mentioned, Planet X was quite the story. There is a whole host of characters that we meet along the way that leaves an impression on the reader. One of the tribes described in the story was fascinating, not to mention the world building, the science behind the plot, and the gadgets explored were all intriguing, which kept the pages turning. Amidst it all, sex of the erotic variety was plentiful.

I also found myself captivated by the adventure, the way Teague was so smitten with Krisa from the very beginning, the way they were so destined to cross paths with each other and fall in love, and the vivid dreams Krisa was having long before, the star of which was none other than yours truly. However, there was something that detracted a bit from the enjoyment factor if you ask me – the dream sex scenes were so plentiful that it took some of the sizzle out of the real thing when Krisa and Teague finally did get together.

Highly recommended for fans of science fiction who also enjoy a healthy dose of smut – this one has plentiful of both!

Final Verdict: Planet X is definitely the kind of story that delivers on the world building, adventure, eroticism, and love of the forever kind!

Favorite Quotes

He was stroking her clit as though he knew exactly how to make her body respond to him, as though he knew her better than she knew herself. Krisa gasped breathlessly and spread her thighs wider, wanting more of him, more of his hands on her body. One blunt fingertip stroked along the side of the sensitive bundle of nerves now, he wasn’t gentle but his very roughness brought her to the edge. The way he knew her body—knew exactly how to make her lose control under his rough and knowledgeable touch—was like nothing Krisa had ever experienced before.

He was so close, so close to taking what must not be taken, so close to giving her exactly what she needed. Krisa moaned helplessly and rode his fingers, opening for him, submitting to him in a way that felt utterly dangerous and utterly right. Her juices made her pussy slippery and wetted both her thighs and his hand, easing his entrance into her virgin cunt. Behind her, she could feel the thick head of his cock rubbing against her inner thigh, then moving higher to slide against her inflamed clit. The broad head pressed against the entrance to her pussy, not quite entering her yet but promising that he soon would, promising to make her his completely…

For a long moment she held those eyes with her own. Krisa knew she should rush up the bank as quickly as possible and wrap herself modestly in the blanket. But something rose inside her, a kind of pride—a wish to defy his expectations.
Taking a deep breath and ignoring the panicky feeling in the pit of her stomach, she dropped her arms and stood silently, waiting. Black flickered back to reveal pure, blazing silver as Teague looked over her naked, dripping body. Her long hair trailed down her back and beads of the pinkish water clung to the softly rounded apex of her pussy, the full curves of her breasts and the tightly jutting pink buds of her nipples.
“Like what you see?” Krisa asked challengingly.

Still half asleep she thought, His eyes…his face! I can finally see his face! Reaching up she buried both hands in his spiky black hair and pulled him down, wanting to taste the sweet, hot-cinnamon flavor of her dream again.
The silver eyes widened and then he was kissing her back, taking control of the kiss and rolling her beneath his big body to press the thick hardness between his legs into the willing wetness between hers.
Krisa arched her back and moaned like an animal, feeling the hard length of his cock rubbing against the center of her need. She cursed the stupid trousers that kept them apart, kept him from sliding inside her pussy and giving her what her body was begging for.

Teague must have felt her complete surrender in the way her body moved against his, because the fingers on her nipples became a little less cruel.
He whispered into the side of her neck, “That’s right, little girl, give it up for me. Your skin tastes so sweet, and your tits fill my hands just right.” His big hands molded her breasts gently, illustrating his point. Krisa gasped, arching her back to thrust herself closer to him and give him greater access to her body.
“Teague!” she moaned his name for a third time but this time the sound coming out of her throat lacked any protest or question—it was pure submission—pure need.

“Should I listen to what you’re saying or what your body is telling me, Krisa?” he rumbled. “Because it seems to me those are two different things.” Leaning down he sucked one tight, pink bud into his mouth while he pinched the other, licking and nipping, until she cried beneath him, arching her back to get closer, to give him more.
Abruptly, Teague stopped. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing. “Do you like this Krisa? Like what I’m doing to you? Is it making your soft little pussy wet?”

Krisa felt one large, calloused fingertip tracing the tiny triangular patch which barely hid her sex. She moaned low in her throat as she felt her pussy lips begin to open under his gentle stimulation. He was opening her, spreading her cunt wide without even taking off the Yss panties. Her tender lips felt swollen and hot as they spread and soon the only thing the scrap of fabric hid was her aching clit.
“Please,” she whispered, but she wasn’t sure what she was begging for.
“So hot…so wet,” Teague rumbled, almost thoughtfully.

Keeping her eyes shut at first, she began to move with a slow, sensual grace that seemed to flow through her limbs, turning them to liquid. Picturing herself as a snake, gliding along, intent on fascinating her prey, she began to glide in a slow circle around Teague, touching him lightly and darting away. Tantalizing…teasing…
Teague followed her with his eyes, a low, frustrated growl building in his throat and then, to Krisa’s surprise, he began to follow her lead. She brushed past him, letting her full breasts touch him, her erect nipples just grazing his chest and then turned lightly, intending to make another revolution around the big Feral, only to find herself caught.
Teague’s large hands were on her waist and then she felt him join the rhythm of the drums, the rhythm pulsing in her blood. Slowly, sensuously, he turned her so they were facing each other, pulling her body close to his, and began to grind against her.

“That’s right, little girl, open your legs for me,” he whispered roughly, the gravelly voice thick with desire. “I want to spread your sweet pussy lips and feel how wet you are. I’m gonna show everyone exactly how hot I made you—how much you need my thick cock inside your tight little cunt.”
“Teague…please!” But she no longer knew if she was begging him to let her go or to touch her, as the large, warm palms on her trembling inner thighs were threatening to do. Her arms remained locked around his neck now of their own volition, thrusting her naked, exposed breasts out into the cool night air, letting everyone see her shame. Yet Krisa wasn’t even sure she could make herself care anymore.

“Who do you belong to, Krisa? Who?” he demanded. He was rubbing harder, his fingers almost rough against her slippery clit, perhaps sensing the rush of sensation she was building toward.
“You!” Krisa sobbed, writhing against him wantonly. “I belong to you, Teague—only you!”
“That’s what I wanted to hear, little girl,” he growled. He bit the side of her neck possessively, leaving a mark that she knew wouldn’t fade for days. “You’ll be someone else’s once you get to Prime but here on X you belong to me.”

Teague eyed her intended sleeping arrangements with a set jaw and then patted the ground between him and the fire. “Krisa, come here,” he growled in a voice that would not be denied. She realized he hadn’t relinquished the claim he had made on her the night before in the torch-lit circle at the Yss village.
Wordlessly, she got up, bringing her blanket to spread in front of Teague’s. She lay down between him and the fire as she had on their first trip through the jungle and tried to relax as he pulled her close. He buried his face in her hair and she could feel his hot breath at the back of her neck as he kissed her there, biting gently with a fierce possessiveness that made her tremble.

As though reading her mind, he stopped sucking her nipples and looked at her face. “Krisa,” he said in that deep, growling voice, “Do you remember what I told you while we were watching that last Yss couple at the feast? That when a man gets a woman hot enough, her pussy gets so wet it starts to open on its own?”
Fearing to say anything, Krisa only nodded.
“Well, tell me something, little girl,” Teague growled, “If I made you spread your legs for me right now, is that what I’d see? Is your pussy all wet and hot for me?”

“Wh-what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to ride my face, sweetheart. That way I can get my tongue deep inside your sweet little cunt. C’mere.” He beckoned her but Krisa held back, unsure.
“I don’t understa—”
“I’ll show you.” With as little effort as though he was moving a doll, Teague reached for her and positioned her body so that she had a knee planted on either side of his head. Krisa could feel his hot breath licking along the insides of her spread thighs and the tender lips of her cunt, swollen with need and desire.

“Answer me, damn it!” His hips rolled beneath her, thrusting, grinding, spreading the wet lips of her pussy and rubbing ruthlessly against her clit. Pressing deep but not deep enough. Pushing her higher and higher.
“You know I want to but I can’t. I just can’t,” Krisa sobbed even as her climax began, overwhelming her.
“Damn you, Krisa. Damn you for holding any part of yourself back from me.” Teague’s voice was a deep, angry growl. He thrust roughly against her, rubbing the thick ridge of his cock brutally over her slick, swollen folds and bit her hard on the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder as she came. Krisa cried out as his sharp white teeth drew blood, not much, but enough to mix a bitter zing of pain into the exquisite pleasure of the rough orgasm he had forced from her.

“I didn’t mean to do this, didn’t mean to leave a mark.” His warm breath on the sensitive skin of her neck sent a tremor of desire along her nerves, but his words made her heart sink. So he didn’t want her the way she wanted him.
“It’s all right,” she said again, dully. “You were…upset.”
Teague gave a short bark of laughter. “Upset, huh? Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He leaned down and placed a soft, warm kiss over the bruised skin and Krisa shivered helplessly against him, feeling her body react to his touch as it always did. Teague kissed her neck again, lapping softly at the hurt spot with a warm, wet tongue, as though he could kiss the bruise away.

“Krisa,” he breathed, a low, tormented sound that was barely audible above the low beat of the drums and the high wailing of the flute. “I’m beggin’ you…don’t do this.”
“But I want to,” she whispered back. The stone floor was hard on her knees but she barely noticed it. Teague’s hands pinched into her shoulders, trying to keep her back from him, but she ducked her head forward. Remembering what she had seen at the other Yss feasts they had attended, she stroked her cheek lightly along the heated length of his cock.
His musk was strong here—intoxicatingly spicy. Delicious.

“Teague,” she breathed softly. “Teague, please…” The sheets were rough under her palms as she gripped them tightly between white-knuckled fingers, bracing herself against what she knew was coming. Teague had promised to ride her hard and she knew he wasn’t lying. The big Feral had been waiting for this moment for a long, frustrating time. With so much tension and passion built up between them, it was bound to be a rough ride. She fully expected to be sore from the coming onslaught when all this was over.
She wasn’t disappointed. With a muted roar, Teague drew almost all the way out of her slick channel and thrust back in, driving his thick cock into her tight, wet cunt like a battering ram, forcing a cry from her lips as he repeated the action again and again.

The feel of him pulsing into her, claiming her body completely, coupled with the stinging pain of his bite, sent a second wave of orgasmic pleasure racing through Krisa’s veins. She moaned helplessly, a scrap of paper caught in a flood, carried away on the tide of sensation and need.
Teague held her tightly for a moment, his broad chest slick with sweat and pumping like a bellows against her back. Then slowly, not withdrawing from her body, he lowered them both to the bed where he wrapped warm arms around her as though he never intended to let her go.
“You’re mine, little girl,” Krisa heard him growl softly in her ear. “Mine now, don’t forget it.”

Teague loomed over her, a large, warm shadow in the darkened bedroom just beginning to grow light from the dull, bronze radiance of Planet X’s hidden sun. His eyes were a soft, glowing silver, filled with love and need, as his big body moved over her, inside her. As he stroked into her, he caressed her legs, sides, arms, neck—every part of her he could reach and he buried his hands in her hair to pull her close for hot-cinnamon kisses.
She reached the peak just moments before he did, felt her pussy spasm around his cock and heard Teague’s low groan as he cradled her close and let her climax trigger his own. He pulsed into her, pressing deep, filling her with his seed. She was whispering something over and over in a low, breathless voice. Krisa didn’t understand what she was saying until Teague pulled back and whispered, “Love you too, little girl. Always. Don’t forget it.”

“Teague,” she moaned, tugging on the spiky hair. “Teague, please. I need more…need you inside me…”
She didn’t have to ask twice. She never knew how he managed to get his clothes off so quickly, but in what seemed like the next heartbeat he was naked under her and she was sitting astride him, her wet, open pussy poised above the thick club of his cock. He didn’t need to ask if she was ready, he had made certain of that already. It was with a feeling of relief that bordered on pain that Krisa felt him pierce her, felt the thick cock spreading the lips of her pussy to make room inside her for him, felt large hands encircle her waist and bring her down firmly as he thrust deep to fill her with himself.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: To Have and to Hold by Patricia Gaffney

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Wyckerley Trilogy, #2
Publisher: NAL Trade
Hero: Sebastian James Ostley Selborne-Hammond Verlaine
Heroine: Rachel Crenshaw
Sensuality: 3
Published On: September 01, 1995
Started On: January 12, 2022
Finished On: January 13, 2022

Even now her husband obsessed him. He lifted his face from the hot hollow between her neck and shoulder to ask, “Did he hurt you, always? Was there never any pleasure for you?”
She wouldn’t answer.

Reading a Patricia Gaffney is always an experience – whether you enjoy it or not, learn from it or not is a whole different story. Book 2 in the Wyckerley Trilogy, To Have and To Hold, would be my second read by Ms. Gaffney and this was riveting in many ways.

The story begins when 28 year old Rachel Crenshaw is brought in front of 30 year old Sebastian James, Viscount D’Aubrey, who resides as a judge in their small town. Accused of stealing, Rachel would have easily been thrown in prison as someone with a record, who was jailed for ten years for the murder of her husband.

Sebastian is a man called many things—rake, sensualist, seeker, dilettante, degenerate. Those very traits within him sit up and take notice of Rachel from the very first moment he lays eyes on her. The sensualist in him drawn to the drab form Rachel is, a woman who has erased the very essence of who she is. His curiosity drives Sebastian to do the unthinkable and he hires Rachel as his housekeeper. The story that follows is one that was compelling.

Sebastian’s goal is simple – to goad his new housekeeper into revealing bits and pieces of herself until she is no longer the mystery that his brain works to solve every single day. Sebastian invades Rachel’s personal space, deliberately tries to get a reaction out of her when she would not give him much, and obsesses with the fact that she was married and what it is that her husband must have done to be murdered at the hand of his wife mere hours after their marriage.

It is only when the story reaches its pivotal point that much is revealed about the horrors that Rachel underwent, the hard blow that life had dealt her, after the way her family had brought her up to cultivate the right sorts of relationships and acquaintances to snag just the perfect match that would take her places. Ultimately, the only place it had taken her was to the gaol and a life of loneliness and hardship of the kind she had never known.

Sebastian is a hero that many a reader would love to hate – the way he pursues Rachel, someone who has undergone abuse and is clearly suffering from the memories of it is something that many readers would not be able to condone. However, we are talking about a time when people did not acknowledge the trauma of abuse, when it was seen as the woman’s duty to accept whatever form of abuse that was doled out by their spouses. Even at present day, we still have a hard time understanding and empathizing, and I would not expect someone like Sebastian to have understood where Rachel was coming from.

While Sebastian makes you want to smack him a time or two, those very characteristics made the story that much more enticing when the transformation ultimately happened. Sebastian reminds me of heroes written by Anne Stuart, men who are rakes and degenerates who live up to their reputations, up till the point they finally accept that they have fallen in love and that there would be no going back.

What happens to Sebastian too, is similar. When he ultimately finds out the extent of the damage that had been done to Rachel, the wooing he does, the patience he exerts, and the results which emerge when Rachel finally lets go of the shackles that binds her to the past; that is what made this story stand out.

The story Lily being the only other novel from Ms. Gaffney which I read prior to this, I was expecting something similar that would consume the whole of me. Those expectations were ultimately not met. There were things about Rachel that I wished to be true for her towards the end. I wanted her to be stronger than who she was; for the most part, neither Sebastian nor Rachel had the mind to question what was happening to her and assess the circumstances. Had it not been for a particular piece of correspondence that cleared up Rachel’s name, she would in all probability have been forced to go to prison before the story was through.

This story also made me think deeply about the attitudes of the criminal justice system towards women who have undergone a life of abuse. Has much changed? Not really, if you ask me. There are so many cases where women finally fight back only to find themselves in prison for defending themselves from someone who would have most likely killed them due to escalation of violence which is only inevitable. Makes me want to hang my head in shame for all that and more.

Recommended for fans of historical romances featuring heroes that won’t sit well with most readers! The transformative experience makes it worth the pain!

Final Verdict: Ms. Gaffney takes the reader through a journey that makes you question how far society has come when it comes to women and the criminal justice system.

Favorite Quotes

Leaning in, he ran his tongue along the prickly line of her lashes. She had stopped breathing. She waited for him to do the next thing, take the next conscienceless liberty with her body. Very well, he would. He gently inserted the tip of his middle finger between her lips. Her mouth moistened it, and he wet her lips with his finger, smoothing it back and forth, going back inside for more wetness when her lips went dry. He thought she might be trembling, and brought his other hand to the back of her neck to see. Yes. Soft, subtle quivers coursing through her, like a light breeze rustling the leaves of a small, slight tree.

He put his hands flat on her chest, feeling her heart thud, thud, as she drew a choking breath. She was going to the stake like St. Joan, brave and above it all. He slid one hand to her face, spreading her lips to the sides a little with his thumb and forefinger, parting them. She made a soft sound, helpless. He put his open mouth on hers, breathing on her, and tasted inside her lips with his tongue, circling them slowly.
Heat jerked through him, rough and willful, out of control.

“Hold on to me,” he told her, and she did that at least, clutching his sides with stiff, loveless fingers. He took her as gently as he could, and until the last second it was a cool, controlled act of sexual release. Then he lost his head. He saw the light around him dim and recede, objects disappear. In absolute blackness, he drove and drove into her, conscious of nothing but pure sensation, impossible pleasure, storming and raging in him, until he surrendered and let it take him over the blinding white edge.

He slicked his hand into the jar again, and this time he took a taste of the ointment on his tongue. The wicked smile flashed. “I like it,” he announced, and began to soothe her other breast with the same slow, careful, painstaking enjoyment. Her toes curled. She could not possibly like this. She hated sex, which was violent, brutal, and degrading. She could endure it, but she could not enjoy it. No matter, completely irrelevant, that some people claimed to take pleasure in it—she knew what she knew. And yet, when Sebastian leaned over her and put his mouth on her, put his lips on the nipple he’d warmed and stimulated with his hands and his devilish unguent, a stab of such exquisite pleasure shot through her that she groaned, and the longer he teased and tongued and bit, the more excruciating it became.

He drove her higher, pushed her against the rails, cold wood hard against her shoulders, driving, driving. Sweat glistened on his face and chest, his straining arms; sweat dripped from his damp hair and fell on her breasts. He kissed her, opening her mouth wide, thrusting into it with his tongue in rhythm with the steady plunging of his sex inside her. She knew what he wanted, knew he wouldn’t stop until she gave it to him. She wanted it, too—but it was out of reach, impossible. She let him pull her legs around him, tight around his waist, and she moved her own body to his fevered rhythm.
“Let go,” he panted against her neck, grazing his teeth across her throat. “Give in.”

He lay down beside her and propped his head on his hand. Watching her eyes, he tilted the vial and poured a drop of oil on the nipple of her right breast. She caught her breath. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.” Their gazes locked while he plucked and rolled the tight, crinkling bud between his fingers. She moaned softly. “If you knew what you look like. Your mouth . . . you have the most delicious mouth.”
“Kiss me . . .”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he said threateningly, leaning over her until they were mouth to mouth. While he spoke, he skimmed his finger down the moist crease of her sex, making her suck in her breath through her teeth. “I want to put my cock inside you very slowly. Feel your heat. Feel you stretch and tighten around me. I want to feel the beat of your pulse deep inside. I want to see your face when you lose control—and you will lose control. And when you come, Rachel, I want to hear you cry out my name.”
Two spots of bright pink color stained her cheeks. She couldn’t catch her breath. He rested his finger over the tight, swollen nub of her sex just to let her know he knew where it was. “What do you want?”
“I want you to touch me,” she ground out through her teeth. “There. Now. Do it.”

“Don’t hold back. Give yourself to me, Sebastian. Because I want you.”
She let him keep her hand when he grabbed for it. He squeezed it tight, so tight he was hurting her—but then his punishing grip slackened and a groan tore from his throat. Panting, he lifted his head from the pillow and dropped it back heavily, twice, too stunned to speak. She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his muscles and the light sheen of sweat everywhere she touched him. His fingers tangled in her hair. “Rachel,” he said on a sigh, and he sounded sated, resigned, almost hopeless. “Too much. Oh God, Rachel.”
She rested beside him, her arm across his waist, thinking, Ah, then you know how it feels. It was good that he knew. When she left him, they could feel, at least for a time, the same loss.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novella
Genre: Historical Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Maximilian Thomas William Bradley III
Heroine: Lady Violet Littleton
Sensuality: 3.5
Published On: June 07, 2021
Started On: January 02, 2022
Finished On: January 08, 2022

“I’ll see myself out,” she said and turned to the door.
“You are not leaving until you agree never to return.”
She paused and tried to remember this was for the best. Either way, win or lose, she couldn’t pursue Max like a hound after a fox forever. “I won’t return until you invite me.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a heated look from under her lashes. “Because you will come looking for me, Your Grace. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe is my first foray into the author’s writing and I am happy to report that this story was mesmerizing and that I loved every aspect of it.

18 year old Lady Violet Littleton falls in love with the Duke of Ravensthorpe, Maximilian Thomas William Bradley III (Max) at a tender age. At the time, it is his tenderness that catches her heart. It is only when Violet turns of age that she starts to understand the reasons behind her fascination with the Duke who makes her heart race, her insides yearn with longing. Max is the man who stars as the centerfold of her dirtiest fantasies.

Violet bides her time looking on at the Duke, who also happens to be her father’s closest friend. Though the Duke stops visiting their home since her debut, Violet has no qualms about “spying” on Max whenever she encounters him at society functions. However, her secret longings are laid bare for the Duke to see when she spies on him during one of his garden trysts, leaving Violet with little else to do but be honest about what she wants from him.

Max’s resistance to Violet stems from a lot of things; he is old enough to be her father and he has sworn off marriage since the death of his wife during child birth. After all, a man like him should not pursue an innocent like Violet without noble intentions. But resistance does prove to be futile once he has a taste of Violet and the passion that she invokes in him which he has denied for too long. But fiery passion alone cannot be enough, especially for Violet, and facing a shared future might prove to be Max’s undoing in every sense.

As mentioned earlier, I loved everything to do with this story. I had just one problem; I wished for this to have been a full length novel which would have delivered the kind of angst and emotions that a short length story does not allow the time for. However, even with that limitation, Ms. Shupe did an amazing job out of carving out her characters and giving them life in a way that speaks to the hearts of readers.

Max is such a compelling hero – he is kind, forthright, and a deeply sensual man who carries a wealth of guilt associated with the death of his wife. I would be giving away too much if I were to delve into the reasons behind the guilt but needless to say, Violet is exactly what he needs, even if Max might believe otherwise. The guilt is one huge aspect that makes him resist any of kind long-lasting relationship that could lead to marriage, and Violet spells trouble with a capital T for him in that regard.

Violet’s quiet determination and strength was what drew me to her the most; the way she never cowered from going after what she wanted, knowing full well that heartbreak would be the result. She also was independent in a way that drew me to her; she was her own person and her love for the Duke was just a part of that same personality. She was intuitive in a way that makes her perfect for someone like Max, who guards his heart closely. I loved the gauntlet that she threw at Max, something which proved to be the tipping point in the story. The steam between the two just cements the emotional goodness and that is why this made for a tantalizing read when all was said and done.

Definitely recommended for fans of historical romances laced with passion and endearing characters to boot!

Final Verdict: With My Dirty Duke, Ms. Shupe proves to readers the kind of riveting read that a talented author can provide, even through a novella! Splendid read!

Favorite Quotes

He made no move to assist her, only held perfectly still as she slipped one brace over his shoulder, then the other. When she finished, she sat back on her knees and waited for him to continue with instructions.
“My shirt.”
His collar and necktie had already been removed, so she leaned in once more and set to work on the small buttons on his chest. His lean muscles rippled beneath her fingers, the carefully leashed power betrayed by his rapid breathing.
When enough buttons were loosened, she dragged the expanse of fabric over his head, Ravensthorpe lifting his arms to help. The thin garment he wore underneath was of the finest cloth, and it outlined the thick muscle and sinew, the flat planes and elegant grace. Another wave of heat rolled through her, centering between her legs.
More.

She worked hard then, moving faster to show him without words how much she wanted to please him. He grunted and rocked his hips, lost in the moment, until he suddenly lifted her up and away from his erection. In a blink, she found herself on her back, Ravensthorpe leaning over her, pressing her into the floor an instant before he sealed his mouth to hers in a punishing kiss.
This was no sweet melding of lips as described by poets and schoolgirls. No, he devoured her, his mouth immediately opening to give her his tongue. She took it eagerly, widening to allow him in, reveling in the slick heat as his tongue twined with hers. This kiss was a battle, a test. He was showing her all the passion, all the lust inside him, and she had to prove that she could accept it. Prove that she wanted it.

“Spread your legs. Show me.”
Those pale thighs parted, revealing her pussy, and he couldn’t breathe. Goddamn beautiful. Arousal glistened on the petals, with more gathered around the entrance. He traced the soft flesh with a fingertip, relishing the slick her body produced for him. “Is all this for me?” She watched him with wide eyes as he brought the finger to his mouth and sucked the sweetness onto his tongue. “Oh, my darling girl. I fear I’ll never get enough of your taste.”

She was close, her body stretched like a bowstring, her chest pumping in a desperate plea for air. Max needed to feel her inexperienced walls clamp down, if not on his shaft, then on his finger. He carefully slid the tip of his smallest finger inside her cunt, and her slick walls sucked him inside as if starved. God, how he wished . . .
No. He could not even contemplate it.
Then it happened. Her thighs shook around his head, her cries ringing in his ears as she found her peak. The release went on and on, her body completely his in that moment, and the satisfaction he experienced as she climaxed on his tongue was incomparable.

Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and began pulling her deeper into the gloom, helping her down the stone steps. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Max. His presence surrounded her, a feeling of safety and danger, arousal and comfort all at the same time. She went willingly, eagerly, unconcerned with getting caught. Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and began pulling her deeper into the gloom, helping her down the stone steps. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Max. His presence surrounded her, a feeling of safety and danger, arousal and comfort all at the same time. She went willingly, eagerly, unconcerned with getting caught.
Once on the ground, he tugged her into an alcove hidden underneath the stairs. Before she could see his face, he was on her, the muscular length of him flush to her front, her back against the rough stone.
But he didn’t kiss her.
He put his mouth near her ear, his warm breath coasting over her skin. “Happy, little mouse? For two weeks I’ve tried to forget you. A goddamn fortnight, yet here I am—all because I cannot get the taste of your pussy out of my head.”

He was so beautiful with his chiseled jaw and the few silver threads at his temple, his skin taut with excitement. She reached her other hand down to his testicles, rolled them in her palm, and Max let out a drawn out, “Fuck.”
Hot breath hit her cheek as he began to talk. “We haven’t long. Your father is in the card room and he’ll come looking for you when he’s done. I have the taste of you in my mouth. Would you like the taste of me in your mouth, as well?”

“I expected to be torn in two. Instead I feel . . . full.” She wriggled, causing him to shift inside her, and he screwed his eyes shut, struggling not to spend before they even got started. “I like it,” she said.
Dear God.
Max gave a thrust of his hips, his shaft dragging along her sensitive tissues, and Violet purred. “Goodness, I like that even more.”
He was done for.
Any civility he possessed disappeared and Max snapped, driving into her again and again.

He leaned over her, snarling in her ear as his hips worked, his cock plunging in and out of her channel. “You like this, my little mouse? You want more?”
“Oh, Max, yes. Please.”
“You’re going to let me fuck you whenever I want, aren’t you?” He couldn’t seem to stop talking, especially when her walls clenched every time he did. She likes my dirty words.“Your cunt was made for my cock. I’ve never had better.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BookDepo

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Brutal Intentions by Lilith Vincent

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Dark Contemporary Romance
POV: First Person – Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Lazzaro Rosetti
Heroine: Mia Bianchi
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: September 28, 2022
Started On: September 20, 2022
Finished On: September 23, 2022

“Come on, Mia. Show me how bad girls get off in the middle of the night.”

Having never read a Lilith Vincent novel did not stop me from requesting for an ARC of this steamy, taboo-as-it-gets romance when I encountered the author’s posts on the release of Brutal Intentions on Instagram. Being a lover of dark, edgy romances that pushes the conventional boundaries of male-female relationships, I felt right at home with this one. Even though in real life I would probably never be able to imagine something like this happening, much less supporting it, between the pages, 29 year old Lazzaro Rosetti (Laz) was just what this depraved heart of mine needed.

18 year old Mia Bianchi is used to being the invisible member of her dysfunctional family, bearing the brunt of and carrying the stain of her mother’s past mistakes. All of that changes the moment she lays eyes on Laz as he stands at the altar saying his I do’s to none other than Mia’s mother.

Laz is the youngest of his family, trying to get his hands on what is rightfully his to forge his own path in life. However, Laz finds himself forced into a marriage that is of not his choice, and as a result it is Miathat bears the the brunt of his anger over his lack of freedom to choose. At his heart, Laz is just as lost as Mia is in some ways, but even Laz through his depraved heart can see that Mia has got it much worse than he ever did.

The story is relentless from the very beginning, with Ms. Vincent never letting there be any respite from the heat and twisted nature of what unfolds between Mia and Laz. While Mia does try her best to steer clear from Laz, it is as if Laz has made it his life’s mission to torment her and make Mia face the inevitable truth when it comes to what is between them; the lust that roars to life that is unparalleled. There is no escape from being consumed by the fire that rages for either of them, and Laz to his credit, does not even try.

Navigating the treacherous nature of Mia’s family takes some doing, but it is Laz’s well placed intentions that makes for the climax of this newfound and fragile love that was careening towards the edge of the cliff from the onset. However, there is something to be said for the determination that defines both Laz and Mia even in the face of all the obstacles that stands in their way, which is one reason why their story was so satisfying when all was said and done.

I do not think I can begin to express all that this novel presented; there is just enough emotional development and backstory to the characters to make all of this real and relatable to the point where you root for the main protagonists against all odds. However, if you are the type to shy away from cheating in romance novels, this is definitely not the book for you – because there is plenty of cheating, assholery, and the kind of sex that makes you reach for your non-existent glass of cold water at your bedside table.

I will definitely be looking for more of Ms. Vincent’s books in the future. Her writing is flawless, even when writing a character that is rough around the edges like Laz, who does not care for the polished veneer that most people believe makes us civilized. With an increasing number of books published that tries to serve the appetites of the majority that likes their romances bland and safe to fit the current times, it is rare to meet authors like Ms. Vincent and I will doggedly be in pursuit of her new releases!

Recommended for those who love their romances on the frisky side, with an extra serving of taboo to really spice things up.

Final Verdict: Brutal Intentions at its heart is the kind of story that digs itself deep into those empty crevices of your soul that you never acknowledged existed.

Favorite Quotes

[Mia] Heat and pleasure rise up and crash over me. My body flexes in Lazzaro’s strong arms as I hurtle beyond all conscious thought and straight into pure pleasure.
That was better than anything I’ve felt in my entire life.
I suck in a deep breath and open my eyes.
Lazzaro is awake and staring at me, his expression absolutely feral.

[Mia] “Do as you’re told, Mia. I’m not letting you up until you come again.”
Lazzaro thrusts hard against my ass through his sweats and his hot breath is on the back of my neck. The hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on has me pinned in place, and my body craves to give him what he wants. His brutal assault on my senses forces a third orgasm from me.
I press my face into the pillow and moan, wishing it didn’t feel so good to be so thoroughly humiliated.
My stepfather raggedly breathes into my ear, “Good fucking girl.”

[Mia] “What a performance Giulia made over a broken leg. I don’t think she’d carry on the same way about you, do you?”
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I seethe.
“So do something about it.”
“Like what? I’m not going to pour red wine on Mom’s favorite dress because she loves Isabel more.”
He shrugs, but there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes. “There are better ways to take revenge.”
“I’m not going to suck your dick because my family hates me.”
A wicked smile hooks Laz’s mouth. My eyes are drawn to his scar as he saunters toward me. “You are going to suck my dick, but because you crave the feel of me bottoming out in your throat.”

[Mia] Wanting my stepdad is one thing.
Falling in love with him?
Insane.
I pull myself out of his grip and back away.
“I can’t be your anything. I really like you, I care about you, I’m always thinking about you, but this isn’t right.”
The expression in his eyes flickers between anger and pain. “If you wanted to say the words that would make me back off, those aren’t it.” He moves toward me like a hunter stalking prey. “You like me? You care about me? That’s oxygen to me.”

[Mia] “You bad fucking girl.” Laz pulls me closer, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me hard, his tongue parting my lips. My heart is beating wildly as Laz perches me on the vanity and moves between my thighs, pulling them around his hips. He overwhelms me.
Invades me.
Conquers me.
It’s the most intense kiss of my life.

[Laz] “Am I hurting you?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Mia sits up on her elbows and stares at herself. Stares at me driving into her with careful thrusts, edging my way deeper. Her pretty pussy is getting my shaft so wet.
She looks up at me with flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. “I think you were made for me, Laz.”
I relax a little and thrust deeper, and she moans in pleasure. I’m lost in those big eyes, my cock buried inside of her.
I think she’s fucking right.

[Laz] I picture Mia wearing a wedding dress with a pregnant belly, and my dick gets so hard.
I need to fuck her again.
And so, I do.
I pull back and slam into her again, short, hard thrusts.
“Laz,” Mia hisses. “What are you doing?”
“Hold still, baby, I’m not done with you.” I drag her down the bed, pull one of her legs over my shoulder and the other around my waist.
Mia’s breathless with desire and panic. “You shouldn’t—we can’t—”
All her protests are like a red flag to a bull. I can and I will.

[Mia] The drag and pull of his cock inside me is making me go insane. My clit is alive with sensation. There’s sweat on Laz’s chest and his eyes are dilated and dark. Suddenly, he clamps a hand around my throat and squeezes. I’m being pressed down into the seat, completely at his mercy. Trapped between his body and the leather.
Suddenly, everything rushes up, and I fly apart into a thousand shining pieces.
Laz is on the verge of coming when I return to earth. I reach around his cock, grab the skin of his ball sack, and twist.
He groans but doesn’t stop pounding me, and I feel him come as his rhythm stutters, his body flushes red, and his head tips back.
When he opens his eyes to catch his breath, he grins lazily at me. “You little hellcat.”

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: A Governess Should Never… Deny a Duke by Emily Windsor

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: The Governess Chronicles, #2
Publisher: Sentra Press
Hero: Rhys Cadogan
Heroine: Isabelle Violette de Beaujeu
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 07, 2022
Started On: July 05, 2022
Finished On: July 14, 2022

A Governess Should Never… Deny a Duke is the second installment in The Governess Chronicles by Emily Windsor. Even though this is part of a series, the story is perfectly readable as a standalone.

27 year old Isabelle Violette de Beaujeu is a governess with almost a decade of experience under her belt, having earned an impeccable reputation for herself. Her newest charge is the 15 year old niece of the Duke of Aberdare. Even though 34 year old Rhys Cadogan has a reputation for being mean, moody, and mysterious, it does not deter Isabelle from seeking the position, one more milestone towards making headway in her retirement funds.

From the get go, the Duke’s sheer masculinity takes Isabelle’s breathe away, or so it would have she tells herself, if she weren’t made of sterner stuff. Likewise, Rhys is drawn towards the spirit and fire that is evident when Isabelle loses that rigid control she exerts on herself.

However, a governess has no space to dream about frivolous things like love and desire, especially when it involves the likes of a Duke, who for all intents and purposes is on the hunt for a bride. What neither Rhys nor Isabelle realize is that when it comes right down to it, they are both two halves of one soul, drawn towards a shared future, irrespective of the circumstances that brought them together.

From one breathless encounter to heated stolen kisses, Isabelle comes to the realization of the kindness that is inherent in the Duke, the passion that he hides behind the at times aloof facade of his, and the dreams that he harbors for the kind of love that Isabelle herself yearns for but never hopes to find.

I loved this installment in the series and enjoyed both Rhys and Isabelle. Rhys is the kind of hero that is the right mix of tenderness and masculinity that sweeps you off your feet. His keen intelligence and his kindness draws the reader towards him like a moth to flame, and it is not just Isabelle that falls hopelessly in love with him.

Isabelle is the kind of heroine readers root for in every sense. With a past that still haunts her, Isabelle is someone who has lived true to her values and principles and made a name for herself in her profession. Even when the Duke tempts her so, Isabelle tries to tell herself that it is not for the likes of her, but alas, love does have a strange way of seeking one out when you are least looking for it.

The style of writing that Ms. Windsor brings to the genre is evocative, the portrayal of the yearning of both characters in this novel the kind that makes for an immersive reading experience, and the witty nature of the inner monologues and the dialogues which keeps the pages turning. The secondary characters added vibrancy to the story as it unfolded, many of whom I would definitely love to read more about.

Recommended for fans of Ms. Windsor and fans of beautifully spun historical romances!

Final Verdict: Delightful, sensual, and poignant; Ms. Windsor’s writing is powerful in the way it moves the reader!

Favorite Quotes

I wait. I tremble. I yearn,
Yet to me she cometh not.
I lust. I languish. I burn!
Yet to me she cometh not.

His lips brushed.
Back and forth. Beguiling and mellow and supple and sinful.
The angel admonished one last time, prattling on about all those years of flawless reputation, but instead of dissuading Isabelle from this path of desire, it compelled her to be reckless. Yes, she had been all that was placid and perfect for so long, but she was tired. Tired of suppressing her accent, her upbringing, her nature, her temper, her very self.
So, she returned the duke’s kiss.

Abruptly, she was swung around, her spine meeting the panelled wall, and she was unsure why until he pressed his muscled frame as though he required more pressure, could not get close enough to her…
Now the assault came not from just his ravishing lips, or from his hands which grasped her face, securing her for his kiss, but his hips which recklessly thrust.
She knew he was heavily aroused, had read many a novel for knowledge, but even the most prurient tale failed to convey the sheer elation that surged.
Real, indulgent and utterly wicked.

“Beg pardon,” he muttered, hands tidying her bodice and attempting to push curls into their plait – a fruitless endeavour yet she welcomed it, savoured the sensation of being fussed over for once, till he claimed her wrist and kissed the pounding pulse. “Thank you. Thank you for… My mood was sombre tonight and you fetched light into it with your empathy and touch…Miss Beaujeu.”
She nodded. Knew tonight was at an end for Isabelle.
The clock chimed midnight.
“Good night, Your Grace.”
“Good night, Miss Beaujeu.”
He kissed her hand once more and she twisted away on legs that appeared to be filled with English custard.

“Ça alors!”
He shivered. “You know when you speak in French, it causes the most uncontrollable urges within me.”
“Does it?” She brought her lips to his ear. “Je te désire, Monsieur le duc.”
With a grunt, he strode for the bed. “If you keep testing my limits, Miss Beaujeu, you will find yourself nude and splayed before you can take another breath.”
She laughed as he lowered her to the coverlet, followed her, his perfect mate as she arched beneath him.

His entire weight sank upon her, powerful and possessive, and her legs parted of their accord to accommodate.
Now the kiss grew reckless and tempestuous, both their bodies arching into one another.
With a growl, he reared, twisted off the bed and wrenched at the fall of his breeches, shoving them down. By the flame of the candle, Isabelle glimpsed muscled planes and masculine beauty and an arousal that should’ve scared her but that instead spurred her pulse to race.
He sank upon her again, but now with bare, heated skin, his body tight with sinew, blunt with need.

She leaned up as best she could, gasping as it forced him deeper. “Mon amour. Mon coeur…”
“Cariad, don’t–”
“Je t’aime pour l’éternité.”
With that, any pretence they were civilised creatures vanished as Rhys roared and abruptly arched, his hand grasping her hip as he bucked.
Isabelle sought to retain a grip unto sanity but it was a futile endeavour as his mouth devoured her breast, her throat, and his body demanded she yield also to this madness of desire.

“Love waits, still and swithe,
Love lingers, dusk and bright.
Love waits, it waits for thee,
For thee to fill my night.

So come to me, my soul,
Aside the pounding sea.
Come love and make me whole,
And ‘I’ shall become ‘We’.”

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

Review: A Date with Destiny by Miranda Lee

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Michael Angellini
Heroine: Salome Twynan
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: March 25, 1994
Started On: December 13, 2021
Finished On: December 17, 2021

A Date with Destiny by Miranda Lee is a category romance that was first published in 1994. The story begins when 24 year old Salome Twynan discovers that her ex-husband had once again added another item to her divorce settlement; a penthouse unit at McMahon’s Point. Salome had married young, at the age of nineteen to a 49 year old man, who had warned her that people would talk, judge, and slander her reputation upon their marriage. Salome had gone into the marriage with her eyes wide open, let her husband mold her into what he wanted, and when the divorce had come out of nowhere, Salome is devastated, and having tried and failed to see her ex-husband to get answers to the questions she has being futile slides her further into a depressive state.

When Salome turns up at the penthouse, she discovers that her neighbor is none other than Michael Angellini (Mike), one of Sydney’s most eligible bachelors, the wealthy owner of an exclusive Italian restaurant that Ralph had taken Salome to on many occasions during the course of their marriage. From the onset of their introduction, Salome and Mike had rubbed each other the wrong way, and the hostility had often meant Mike ignoring her or giving her scathing glances while Salome tried her utmost to be more flirty and appreciative of her husband in his presence.

Needless to say, the knowledge that Mike is going to be right next door is not information that settles well with Salome, especially when she discovers that underneath all her hostility lies recognition of Mike’s vitality as a man and the need he rouses in her. Salome has her hangups about casual sex which drives her up the wall when it comes to admitting to the fact that she indeed finds Mike desirable to the point of distraction.

I found the love that unfolded between Mike and Salome to be an entertaining, sweet, and sexy journey with a bit of angst tossed into the mix. It is apparent from Mike’s behavior that he finds Salome just as desirable, and would like nothing better than for Salome to give in for them to reach the height of their mutual pleasure in each other. But Salome is a stubborn as well as a reluctant heroine (but not to the point where it becomes annoying), and Mike has his work cut out for him in trying to make her see that for him, there is no other.

Recommended for those who love books by Miranda Lee.

Final Verdict: Intense heat and good characterizations renders A Date with Destiny to be a wonderful read!

Favorite Quotes

‘You don’t want me to stop, do you?’ he said hoarsely.
‘No,’ she admitted, her voice shaking. ‘No…’
His raw groan stunned her. Clearly, he wanted her almost as much as she wanted him. Maybe he had always wanted her. No, no, a dim memory refuted. That’s not so. He said that wasn’t so.
His next kiss obliterated any further thought, and this time his mouth contained nothing but uncontrollable passion, a taking rather than a tempting. Salome met him halfway, their tongues joining together in a violently sensuous mating that could only be eclipsed in one way.

She could hear his breathing, as heavy and ragged as her own, hear his dark mutterings as he began working on the buttons of her jacket and blouse, then the tie at her neck. Cool air suddenly caressed bare breasts, a rash of goose-bumps temporarily sobering her. For a split second the appalling truth of what she was allowing came home to Salome but, before she could react, Mike’s mouth moved across her breasts and closed over one single, straining nipple.
A moan was torn from deep in her throat, the fingers of both her hands curling over to dig into her palms. ‘Oh, God!’ she whimpered. She jammed her fists down beside her on the case, but this only served to give her a lever with which to arch her back further upwards, pushing her flesh deeper and deeper into his mouth. Her head swam with dizzying pleasure, the blood in her veins surging hotly through her body.

‘What is it?’ Mike said sharply.
She expelled the breath she had been holding in a trembling gasp. ‘Nothing…nothing…’
‘Tell me,’ he urged, and drew her to him in a breathtakingly close embrace, his lips pressed feverishly to her forehead. ‘What is it that frightens you so about me? Why didn’t you want to let me finish making love to you earlier on? Why?‘
She shook her head frantically from side to side. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘I can’t! It’s all too confusing.’
‘What’s confusing?’ he insisted, little knowing that the hot, stroking hands on her hair, her neck, her back, were the most confusing of all, because they kept bringing wave after wave of sensation that was slowly obliterating her capacity to reason. Surely she wouldn’t feel like this in any other man’s arms, would she? It didn’t seem possible. Yet…if it was only Michael Angellini who could do this to her, then what was it exactly she felt for him? Sexual infatuation? Obsession? Lust?
Salome refused to embrace the word ‘love’. Even if her feelings for Ralph had finally begun to die, her bruised, battered heart wasn’t ready, or capable, of loving another man yet, and certainly not a man who had nothing but contempt for her. Perhaps she was acting this way out of some sort of crazed revenge against the hurt perpetrated by her husband. Perhaps this was a rebound thing. She didn’t know any more.
‘Everything’s confusing,’ she groaned. ‘Me… this…you…’

She moaned her frustration and frantically pushed him away, ‘No, no!’ she cried.
He staggered back off the end of the bed, getting to his feet and staring down at her with eyes both wild and incredulous. ‘You must be mad! There’s no stopping now. No changing your mind. Look at me!’ And, with a single savage yank, he stripped off his pyjama-trousers, striking her speechless with the stark evidence of his desire.
Salome had never looked quite so blatantly at an aroused man before, certainly not one as well-endowed as Mike. Colour burnt in her cheeks, her heart thudding beneath her breasts. ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she burst forth, then hesitated, finding it hard to find the words. ‘I was wanting you. You!’ she cried. ‘Not…anything less…’

Finally he gasped away from her mouth and pressed hot lips to the smooth skin of her shoulder, the pulsating vein at the base of her throat, his hands running up and down the sides of her body. Her own hands were caressing the muscles in his back, but dug sharply inwards when he grabbed her hips, lifting them from the bed and thrusting even more deeply into her. Quite instinctively, her inner muscles squeezed tightly around his throbbing hardness, gripping and releasing him in a relentless rhythm. Any moment now…
There was a split second when she seemed to balance on a sharp edge, when her breathing stopped, and every muscle in her body strained to an aching stop. She heard him gasp for breath, felt his hands tightening around her. Then, with one final surge, he set them both free, and their mutual cries of release echoed in the night.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | Harlequin

by mvbookreviewer

Review: It Happened One Summer by Tessa Bailey

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Bellinger Sisters, #1
Publisher: Avon
Hero: Brendan Taggart
Heroine: Piper Bellinger
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: July 13, 2021
Started On: November 28, 2021
Finished On: December 14, 2021

It Happened One Summer, the debut book in the Bellinger Sisters series by Tessa Bailey features two main protagonists who are the complete opposite of each other, the journey they travel towards finding their other half in one another making for an enjoyable read.

The story begins with 28 year old Piper Bellinger being dumped by her current boyfriend in the midst of a party, a nightmare for someone like Piper who lives for the likes and comments on social media profiles. Piper considers her career to be partying and being seen in the right places. Her stepfather being loaded enough for her to afford the lifestyle she leads means that Piper had never really grown up, nor had she ever felt the need to.

Her delayed reaction to the breakup however turns out to be the last straw for her stepfather, and with the need to teach her a lesson driving him, Piper is “exiled” to her father’s hometown in Westport for three months. While everyone (including herself) expects her to fail to live up the requirements of her stay in Westport, Piper has no other avenues to turn to and it is thus she and her sister Hannah find themselves in the town where their deceased father is a revered hero of sorts, the last man of the Westport crew to die while hunting the almighty king crab on the Bering Sea.

From the instance that Piper walks into the bar which her her father owns the deed to, she clashes with Brendan Taggart, a man who seems to engulf her every sense from the get go. As a seaman and captain of Della Ray, the wheel of which he had taken over from his father-in-law, Brendan is a man who is a stickler for routine, never straying from his tight schedules and the regimented lifestyle which keeps him grounded. But all of that is shaken up by none other than Piper, who for the first time in seven long years makes him want to move on from his revered status as a widower.

While Brendan is a bit grumpy and gives Piper attitude at first, all of that changes with the realization of the extensive nature of his burgeoning feelings towards Piper. The lady herself, who has never really even considered putting down roots in a place other than a vibrant city with a nightlife to beckon her, finds herself swayed by the quaint charm that is small town life, where without even realizing, she makes herself an integral part of the small community.

But then again, the past has a way of rearing its ugly head when its least wanted, and that is exactly what happens, giving the story a healthy dose of angst to make things more well rounded towards the final stretch.

I thoroughly enjoyed the story of Piper and Brendan, each being unique and refreshing in a way that made them easily earn their rightful place in my heart. Queen of Smut, aka Ms. Bailey definitely delivers on THAT front, leaving readers with their scorched e-readers to contend with when all is said and done. Watching Piper embrace the wholesome version of herself was an added bonus which I loved!

I am definitely looking forward to the next installment in the series which is set to hit the book stands on the first of next month. No time like the present to get your hands on this one!

Final Verdict: With It Happened One Summer, Ms. Tessa Bailey weaves a complex character-driven story full of heart and the best kind of smut, rendering this unputdownnable!

Favorite Quotes

One second he was holding the toolbox, the next it was on the ground and he was turning. Piper’s momentum brought her up against Brendan’s body, hard, and his boat captain forearm wrapped around her lower back, lifting her just enough that her toes brushed the concrete. And then he bowed her backward on that steel arm, stamping his mouth down onto hers in an epic kiss. It was like a movie poster, with the male lead curling his big, hunky body over the swooning, feminine lady and taking his fill.
What?
What was she thinking? Her brain was clearly compromised—and it was no wonder. The mouth that found hers was tender and hungry, all at once. Worshipful, but restraining an appetite like she’d never encountered. As soon as their lips connected and held, her fingers curled into the neck of his T-shirt, and that arm at the small of her back levered her upright, flattening the fronts of their bodies, and oh God, he just devoured her.

That big body swayed closer, lines of strain appearing around his mouth. “Please . . .”
“You don’t have to beg,” Piper said, bringing the champagne flute to her breasts, tipping the glass and letting the champagne trickle out over one nipple, then the next, and Brendan started to pant. “Not for something we both want. Touch me, Brendan. Taste me. Please?”
“Christ, I have to.” He traced his mouth to her left nipple, pressed his bared teeth against it, before rubbing his tongue against the stiff bud, yanking her hips forward, the move arching her back so she had to use his hair for balance, taking two big handfuls. Her mouth was in an O, watching him savor her, manhandle her body. No games. Just need.

He stared hard at her juncture, the grip on her knees flexing, a curse issuing unsteadily from his mouth. “Yeah, I have to be an idiot leaving you without my attention for two weeks.”
She panted. “Are you calling me high maintenance?”
“Are you denying it?” He tugged aside the strip of material shielding her core, which thankfully she’d waxed clean as a whistle right before leaving LA. “Fuck me. You can be as high maintenance as you want, honey. But I’m the only one who does the maintenance.” He ran his thumb down the seam of her sex. “Understood?”
Piper nodded, as if in a trance.

His lips ghosted up her inner thigh, blunt fingers hooking in the sides of her panties. “Lift up,” he rumbled, nipping at her sensitive skin with his teeth. “Want them off.”
Oh great. His voice could get even deeper? It resonated all the way up to her clit, and she fell back on her elbows, inching her hips up enough for Brendan to peel the thong down her legs. She watched this man, who grew more exciting by the moment, expecting him to drop the underwear on the floor. He wrapped the thin black material around his shaft instead, pressing his mouth and nose up against her wetness, groaning as he choked himself up and down in a tight fist.
“Holy . . .” Piper breathed, momentarily blacking out.
“See this, baby?” He rubbed his mouth side to side, parting the damp folds of her femininity, that hand jerking roughly between his thighs. “You’re still getting me off, too.”

He all but fell on her, his face landing in the crook of her neck, his fist positioning his stiffness between her thighs, right over that uber-sensitive flesh. “One day soon, Piper, I’m going to fuck you so goddamn hard.” He alternated between dragging his swollen tip through her saturated folds and stroking himself. “Going to fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your beautiful mouth. You’ll forget how to say anything but my name. Real quick, honey.”
Her clit hummed again, unbelievably, and that buzz of connection, of more promised pleasure had to be the reason she turned her head slightly, whispering in his ear, “Promise?”
With a strangled growl of her name, he hit his peak, shooting moisture onto her belly, his hand moving in a blur, his teeth bared against the side of her throat. “Piper. Piper.”

The moment their mouths collided, Brendan knew he’d made a mistake. He should have waited to kiss her until they were home in his bed, because the uncertainty of the last eleven days reared back and punched him. It did the same to Piper—he could feel it.
She gave a broken moan and opened her sweet mouth for him, her breath coming in short pants almost immediately, just like his. He’d barely slid his tongue between her lips when she gripped his shoulders, drew herself high against his chest, and slung her legs around his waist. And Jesus, he’d already been halfway to hard, but his cock surged against his fly now, swelling like a motherfucker when she settled the warm give of her sex on top of him, the drag of friction making him curse. Making him wish they were anywhere but a hospital hallway, half an hour from his house.

Lips seeking and wet, their kiss escalated to the point of no return again. They both wrestled with the waistband of her yoga pants, shoving them down past her hips, lower until she could kick them away. And then she was back to climbing him, her lithe thighs skimming up to his waist, his hips punching forward to get his cock up against her softness, pinning her to the wall in the process.
“Noticed we didn’t have to get any panties off,” he said in between kisses, finding her incredible ass with both hands and kneading her buns almost angrily, because Jesus, this thing drove him fucking crazy. “You drive here in my truck with a bare pussy, Piper?”
She bit his bottom lip, tugged. “Slept in your bed with it, too.”

“This bed isn’t strong enough to survive what I’m going to do to you,” Brendan growled against her mouth, capturing her lips again in a kiss fraught with male sexual frustration. It let her know in no uncertain terms that she was the source and he’d be exacting revenge.
Take it. Take it.
Without breaking contact with her mouth, Brendan’s hand wedged down between them and wrestled his zipper down, the desperation of his jerky movements exciting her like nothing else, dampening the folds between her legs. “Hurry,” she begged, biting at his lips. “Hurry.”
“Goddammit, Piper, you make me so fucking hard.”

“Tell me you’re wet. Tell me to put it in.”
“I’m so wet,” she moaned, lifting her hips, running the insides of her knees up and down his heaving rib cage. “I’m ready. I need you. Rough as you can.”
That full, smooth dome pressed up against her entrance, and she braced, one hand flying to his shoulder, the other to the wooden bunk rail. And still she wasn’t prepared for the savagery of that first thrust. With a hoarse roar, his hips drove Piper up the narrow bed, his thickness invading all available space within her, and without allowing her time to acclimate, he was already pumping feverishly, rocking the bed with staccato squeaks.

“Brendan,” she gasped. Then louder, “Brendan. You’re so good. It’s so good.”
“I’ll never lie in this bed again without having to jerk off.” His hand came up to frame her jaw, applying just enough pressure while looking her square in the eye that another rush of wetness coated her sex, aiding him in his destruction of her senses. “You love knowing that, don’t you? You love making me fucking crazy.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Sure you want to be my boyfriend?”
“Yes,” he growled, and slammed into her, holding still, deep, his pained face dropping into the crook of her neck. “And don’t call me that right now or I’m going to come.”
Oh. Jesus. That confession sent a contracting ripple through Piper’s core, and she let out a strangled sob, her hands flying to Brendan’s ass inside his loosened jeans, fingernails sinking in and yanking him, scraping pathways into his flesh. “Oh my God. N-now. Now.”

She was panting as he rose, dropped his chest down onto her back and pushed his cock inside of her still-contracting pussy. “Mine,” he gritted, the tightness of her cinching his balls up painfully, firing every ounce of his blood with possessiveness. “I’m taking what’s mine now.”
A movement ahead of them on the bed reminded Brendan of the mirrored headboard, and he almost came, caught off guard by the erotic sight of her slack jaw and tits that bounced along with every pump of his hips. His body loomed behind her, damn near twice her size, his lips peeled back from his teeth like he might very well devour her whole.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBooks | Apple | BookDepo

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Degrees of Control by Eve Dangerfield

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: The Beyond Bondage Series, #1
Publisher: BookBaby
Hero: James Hunter
Heroine: Charlotte Bell
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: November 30, 2015
Started On: August 10, 2021
Finished On: November 25, 2021

Degrees of Control by Eve Dangerfield is a novel first published in 2015. The story begins with Charlotte Bell attending her friend Sophia’s “low-key” engagement party, where her friends are trying to hook her up with a man who would understand needs of a closeted submissive such as Charlotte and deliver her from the bad breakup that has left a mark on her.

Charlotte is sort of biding her time until she has saved enough to return to Australia where she is from. The decision to follow her ex-boyfriend to America had turned out to be one that was foolhardy in hindsight, with Dale having subjected her to unwarranted jealousy which had only escalated over time for no good reason.

When James Hunter walks into the party, every single cell inside of Charlotte goes on red alert. Even with all her friends warning her that James is the kind of man-whore that she should steer clear from, the need that he rouses in her is all too great to be ignored.

Even though Charlotte knows that James and herself are as ill-matched as can be, the fact that neither of them are looking for anything long-term works at first. James makes reality of every sexual fantasy that she has harbored and makes the submissive in her crave the dominant in him all the more. But when emotions come to the forefront, it is a challenging road that is ahead for both, with Charlotte trying to understand the complexity behind the man that James is, so that they might at least have a shot of making things more longer term.

I loved Degrees of Control and thoroughly enjoyed the dynamics between Charlotte and James. Ms. Dangerfield is a master at delivering scorching hot scenes of passion, while at the same leaving us with tantalizing bits thought provoking elements that makes her books the stellar reads they are.

I fell in love with Charlotte and James from the onset – what is there not to love about a heroine who is kind, gorgeous, and smart, and a hero who is an alpha-hole of the best kind, who I knew would break my heart and patch it all up before all was said and done?

Recommended for those who love psychological depth with their smut! This one certainly delivers!

Final Verdict: With the perfect balance of panty-melting variety of kink and emotional depth with heart, Degrees of Control is a character-driven page-turner!

Favorite Quotes

His thumb brushed over her clit and the whole world tipped sideways, a surge of energy burst at her center and her hips bucked against his stroking fingers. “James!”
Another dark chuckle. “Oh honey, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
Charlie came then, she couldn’t help it, and as she came, she screamed.

“I love that look on your face,” he said. “All nervous but so fuckin’ eager, like you’re gonna cream your panties the second I lay a hand on you.”
He strode toward her and Charlie felt herself shrink beneath his much larger presence. James’ smirk grew wider. He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes, letting his hand linger on her neck. At his touch, she did indeed feel an answering clench in her cunt, sparks flickering deep within her belly. She pressed her thighs together, taking pleasure in the ache.
It was worth coming for this, just to know this kind of doomsday lust exists.

“Now the skirt.”
Charlie didn’t think she’d ever felt this exposed. Her hands lurched up to her hair, stroking it nervously before she reached for the fastener at the back of her pencil skirt. His hazel eyes bore into hers as he rubbed a palm across the front of his jeans, stroking the bulge that lay below. Charlie let Holly’s skirt pool around her ankles. Her panties were cheap but new. She hadn’t wanted to wear anything for him that she’d ever worn for Dale. James stared at the ornate love heart woven into her pink bikini briefs and she saw something wild flicker in his eyes.
“Turn around,” he snarled.
She did what she was told, her feet swaying slightly in the pumps.
“Bend over.”

“You wanna come, Charlotte?”
He ran his thumb over her swollen clit and Charlie almost choked on her tongue. “Yes.”
“Go on then, girl, come on me.”
That was all she needed. She rubbed her pussy on him, slick and insistent until warm, blessed orgasm surged over her like a tidal wave. She whimpered, welcoming the oblivion, and James seized her hips and sank her down on his length.
“James, fuck!”
She writhed against his shaft, sunk so deep his pubic hair brushed against her engorged clit. As her inner muscles strained to accommodate him, her orgasm plateaued, igniting the tangled webs of nerves deep inside herself so that she shuddered and moaned. James smirked like a blond Satan. “Feel good, sweetheart? Good as you hoped?”
“Y-you tricked me, I wasn’t ready—”
He leaned closer, the position a million times more intense with his cock buried inside her. “Darlin’, you’ve been ready since you showed up in those fuck-me heels. Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees.”

James’ hazel eyes closed, his hands clasped her hips. “Oh that’s so good, honey, ride me. Ride my dick.”
James’ head was thrown back and the line of his jaw was sharp as a blade. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, she realized. Powerful and wild as the stallion on his ribs. James groaned, a strangled desperate sound. “Jesus, Charlotte, your pussy’s so goddamn tight, I’m gonna come.”
He seized a handful of her hair, driving himself against her. The brutality of his thrusts made her scrape her nails down his chest.
“Fuckin’ hell, I’m there. I’m fuckin’ there.” James went rigid, his hands biting into her hips, and he cursed long and loud as his cock pulsed inside her.

“Say something,” she whispered. “Please, say something.”
James lowered his mouth to her ear. “Scream my name, slut, scream it while you come on daddy’s dick.”
With a gush of slick warmth, her pussy convulsed around him. Her bound hands banged against the floor as she screamed his name so loudly, his ears rang. He slowed his pace, giving her a chance to recover.

Charlotte smiled and kissed his neck, his collarbone, any part of him she could get her mouth on. Gentle kisses that somehow got his motor running again. His balls tightened, the pressure built in his cock, but still he couldn’t get over the edge. James swore softly, plunging deeper and faster into her cunt. Charlotte’s eyes found his. She had a freckle inside her right iris, James realized, like an island floating in a sea of blue.
“It’s all right, James.” She sounded so quiet, so sure. “It feels so good, I promise. Come inside me. Come inside me. Let me feel you.”
She pressed her lips to his mouth and everything inside him clenched. At long, long last his climax tore through him like a tornado and all the tension in his body drained out of his balls.

Without breaking their eye contact she drew him back into her mouth. This time his shaft was slick and her lips slid down with ease.
“Enough.”
Charlie pulled back until only her lips were pressed against the head of his cock, like a bizarrely chaste first-date kiss.
“God, darlin’, that mouth of yours…”
She drove down again, as deep as she could get without choking, gripping the base with one hand and stroking his tight sac with the other.
“Fucking hell.”

He ploughed into her with short, sharp thrusts, satisfying himself with her flesh. The warmth between their bodies was oppressive and her orgasm seemed to swell in the pressure, blowing out like an overheated balloon.
“Oh God, James, James, James.”
“You’re gonna cream, aren’t you, bitch?”
Charlie had never been so sure of anything. He could pull out and leave her empty and she’d still come.
James chuckled. “Even when I use you like a blow-up doll, you get off. Know why that is, Charlotte?” He whispered the words in her ear like it was a childhood secret, like a prayer. “Because you’re my whore.”
Charlie screamed so loud the sound ate up the world. James pumped, once, twice, three times, then went rigid behind her, swearing like a sailor. They shuddered like animals, riding out their climaxes until they were both completely drained.

“Hey there,” he said, smirking like the arrogant prick he was.
Didn’t he know he was ruining her with that lazy, insolent smile, with his tight abs and broad chest and his stupid square-jawed face? Who would she want to date after this? Who would ever want to be compared to him? He opened his mouth, possibly to offer another pointless greeting, and Charlie threw herself on him. She kissed him in punishment for making her wait this long, for destroying her chances of being content with some middling nice guy. She kissed the arrogant look right off his face.
Soon she forgot everything except the feel of his lips against hers. His hands drew her forward and she eagerly clambered into his lap. They consumed each other, rocking slightly in his office chair until she hoped that by “lunch” James meant “a covet fuck against my desk.”

“If I was you, I’d be coming right now, instead of bored.” His blasé attitude was somewhat undermined by the small wet stain seeping through the front of his briefs.
Charlie pulled his underwear halfway down his hard thighs. “We’ll see how boring I am, Mr. Hunter.”
She examined him, stroking lightly over his blood-swollen cock, and when his dick pulsed in her hands, she bent forward to trace every last pulsing vein with her tongue. Slowly.
“I know what you want, girl, and it’s not happening,” James warned.
“What’s not happening?”
“I ain’t gonna beg. You can tease me as much as you want and I’m just gonna lie here, silent as the grave.”

“Baby, I’m gonna go off. Come up here and sit on my face.”
“Beg.”
“Please,” James said with what appeared to be the utmost sincerity. “Please, honey, I need to make you come. Put that pussy down on my face. I’ll stay tied up, I just have to get you off. Please.”
Charlie hesitated. “I’ll taste like lube from the condom…”
“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll do anything, Charlotte, just…please?”
She couldn’t battle her submissive urges any longer, she scrambled up the bed and positioned her legs on either side of his head.
“Fuck yeah.” James arched his neck and eagerly drew his tongue through her cunt. The noise he made, like a starving man tasting chocolate, turned her skin white-hot. “That’s it, girl, don’t move a fucking muscle. Lemme take care of you.”

“James!”
She threw her head back so far her body was an arch, rutting her hips against his talented mouth. He sucked her harder, urging every last vibration out of her climax. When she finally pulled away, there was no trace of arrogance on James’ face, no cocky sense of achievement. “Get on me. Get on my dick right now.”
She climbed down his bound body and drew him inside her tingling, tortured flesh. He was close, she could feel it. She clamped herself around him and the aftershocks from her first climax throbbed to life.
“Use me, Charlotte.” James’ voice was harsh. “Ride my fucking cock.”

He’d opened his door on Tuesday night to find Charlotte in a trench coat. She removed it to reveal an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a pole dancer; black stockings, a tiny, ruffled skirt and a sheer, black corset. The sight of her sweet face contrasted by such slutty underwear completely blindsided him. Before he knew what was happening, Charlotte was on her knees, unbuckling his belt and giving him the slowest, hottest blowjob he could ever remember getting. She’d sucked him lightly, running her tongue down his shaft and over his sac so slow he could feel the come surging up his shaft. In the final throes, she’d wet a fingertip and sunk it in his ass. He’d come so hard sparks had popped behind his eyes.

She walked toward her bedroom with legs that felt like jelly. Rummaging through her lingerie she selected ruffled cream panties and a sheer babydoll negligee that cupped her breasts and flowed down to her hips like the world’s most inappropriate dress. Figuring she’d go all out, she applied lipstick and mascara and slipped on her black Mary Jane shoes. She inspected herself quickly in the mirror.
Nothing like a troll doll. Good.
When she emerged into the kitchen, James’ mouth flattened into a straight line. He beckoned her closer, eyes cataloguing every detail. As much as Charlie wanted his mouth to fall open, she’d learned that the more potent James’ reaction to her body was, the more it looked like anger. When he’d opened the door to find her in stripper clothes, he looked like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall.

“James, can you hold me down?”
“Anything you want. Anything.”
He seized her delicate wrists and pulled them over her head, pinning them with one hand. Charlotte’s inner muscles clamped around him, as though she was determined to draw the come up from his balls.
“Oh Lord. Tell me you’re close, sweetheart?”
Her eyes were wild. Desperate. “I’m so close, please keep going. I need you.”
I need you.
The words went straight to his dick, filling him with a strange spiraling warmth.

She pushed him onto his back and he let her, kissing her breasts as they went over. He felt her wet heat kiss the top of his dick and moaned.
“I swear, we don’t have to do this, baby.” He searched her eyes for reservation. There was none. Pushing aside any last doubts, James flexed his hips and slid himself inside her hot, bare cunt.
Oh my fucking God.
He wanted to die. He wanted to live and die in Charlotte’s pussy. She was warmer and tighter than anything he’d ever imagined, her wetness enveloping him in ways that felt both physical and not.

“Stay. Finish with me like this.”
She moved against him in short sweet strokes, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. The words he couldn’t say before tumbled out. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Charlotte. I love this, I love your body.”
Her response was to reach down and kiss him, pressing her entire body along his chest and bathing him in her scent. He sank back into the floor, dissolving into pure sensation. What they were doing was a million miles from fucking. It was that whiskey-warm feeling he’d gotten from taking her under the covers in her bedroom amplified to a thousand-fold. Every pressure point from his jaw to his toes was tingling.

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