Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Dark Romantasy POV: Third Person, Multiple Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Tagen Pahnee Heroine: Daria Cleavon Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: January 21, 2009 Started On: August 02, 2025 Finished On: August 08, 2025
“…You,” he said, lowering himself into the sofa cushions, “burn in my blood, Daria Cleavon. I will be ashes when I return. I will never be able to feel again.”
As is with every book that I have read by R. Lee Smith, writing a review proves to be a harder task than anything else. Heat is also the book that left me the most conflicted of her novels that I have read to-date, and yet, the story lives rent-free in my head, all 600-plus pages of it. When I finally reached the end, I found myself questioning everything I thought I understood about morality, about darkness and redemption, and about the fine, perilous line that separates them.
Set on Earth, and ravaged by a heat wave that triggers the alien Jotan breeding cycle, Heat weaves together two vastly different tales — one of savagery and one of unexpected humanity. On one side is Kanetus E’Var, the son of a ruthless slaver turned fugitive chemist, now hiding among humans and creating a drug derived from the human brain. On the other is Tagen Pahnee, a Jotan military officer sent to bring him to justice. In the suffocating grip of the heat, both men are consumed by need, one losing himself to depravity, the other battling to retain his soul.
Kane (Kanetus) is perhaps one of the most complex and disturbing characters R. Lee Smith has ever written. He is not a hero, not even an antihero in the traditional sense. He is a predator; methodical, intelligent, and terrifyingly self-aware. His relationship with Raven, the drug-addicted woman he takes as his possession, is abusive, exploitative, and utterly devoid of the boundaries that define love as we know it. Yet Smith forces us to look deeper, to see glimpses of vulnerability in Kane’s obsession, moments when his twisted affection surfaces in the smallest gestures. It does not redeem him, but it does make him unforgettable.
Raven’s arc, meanwhile, is a tragedy in slow motion. A survivor of addiction and neglect, she endures Kane’s brutality with a numb kind of resilience that breaks your heart. Her choices are born from a lifetime of abuse and deprivation, one that she actually chose for herself when she ran away from a loving home, and watching her transformation, from victim to something far more unpredictable was harrowing. By the end, she becomes as unfathomable as Kane himself, a testament to the way cruelty reshapes human nature. I was left reeling by her transformation, the insidious nature of which still stumps me. Tagen was perhaps the only individual who seemed immune to the victim complex that Raven was so adept at projecting, and I continue to question where exactly the transformation happened.
Tagen and Daria’s story, which unfolds parallel to Kane’s, is the light to that darkness. Tagen, honorable even in the face of his own loss of control, becomes the moral compass of the brutal assault that Earth subjects on his senses. His restraint even when it seems next to impossible, his gentleness, and the love that blossoms between him and Daria offer a desperately needed reprieve from the unrelenting darkness of Kane and Raven’s narrative. The juxtaposition of these two men — one capable of compassion, the other irredeemably monstrous, is what gives Heat its devastating impact.
Reading Heat felt like being torn apart and put back together, only to realize that some pieces don’t quite fit the same way anymore. It is graphic, violent, and profoundly unsettling. There were moments when I wanted to scrub my mind clean after what Kane does, particularly the scenes involving Raven and the mistress that Kane enlists along the way, but there were also moments of unexpected beauty, raw emotion, and philosophical depth that made it impossible to turn away.
What makes R. Lee Smith’s writing so exceptional is her refusal to sanitize darkness. She does not write for comfort, she writes to confront. Every moral dilemma, every discomforting act, forces you to examine the shades of grey that exists within all beings, human or otherwise. Kane’s monstrosity, Tagen’s decency, Raven’s survival, and Daria’s compassion all blend into a portrait of a world where right and wrong are luxuries few can afford.
Recommended for: readers who crave dark, brutal, and unapologetically complex sci-fi romance that tests emotional and moral limits.
Final Verdict: R. Lee Smith’s Heat is a brutal, unforgettable exploration of desire, morality, and survival. Devastatingly dark and impossible to forget.
Favorite Quotes
How easy it would be to take, he mused. To ease the stiffness from her small frame with his unrelenting touch. She would fold, he knew. She had resisted him in the kitchen, but she had clung to him in the end. It would be so now. He had only to fight her a little. But he was tired of warfare. “I am male,” he reminded her, and stepped forward so that she could feel the proof for herself. “You are female. The females come to us. The females command. Command me, if you want me.” Color flooded her cheeks and she cast her eyes about despairingly before meeting his gaze again. “I…Kiss me.” It was a start.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Sci-Fi Romance POV: Third Person, FMC Series: Hold, #1 Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Cain Heroine: Riana Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: November 02, 2007 Started On: February 16, 2025 Finished On: February 21, 2025
“Tell me you’re mine.”“I’m yours,” she gasped, meaning it—far more than in body. “Just yours.”
Hold is a novel that I reviewed way back in 2010 when it was first published under the pen-name Zannie Adams through Ellora’s Cave. Revisiting it now feels almost like stepping into a time capsule of dark, gritty sci-fi romance with that touch and flair that is unique to Kent in her romances.
The story follows Riana, an archaeologist whose life takes a devastating turn when she is unjustly convicted and sent to Genus V, a brutal prison planet where survival hinges on the law of the strongest. With no hope of release, no possibility of escape, and surrounded by chaos and violence, her only chance lies in Cain, the brooding, solitary prisoner who has carved out his territory through intelligence and sheer force. Their relationship begins as one of necessity, Riana bartering the only thing she can offer for protection, but it evolves into something rawer, darker, and far more emotional than either of them expect.
Cain is the epitome of the dangerous hero; stoic, fierce, and with a predator’s strength that makes him both terrifying and magnetic. He is a man of few words, but every action speaks volumes. He shields Riana, but he also makes her face truths about herself she would rather avoid. Riana, on the other hand, is not the delicate damsel one might expect in such dire circumstances. She is resourceful, determined, and unwilling to let the horrors of the Hold break her spirit, even when the odds are stacked impossibly high.
What struck me the most in this reread is how the book balances its relentless brutality with moments of startling tenderness. Cain is not gentle, not by any stretch, but there are flashes of protectiveness and even affection that feel monumental because of who he is and where they are. The intimacy between him and Riana is primal, often public, and utterly unapologetic, yet layered with a vulnerability that sneaks up on you. This dynamic makes their connection both uncomfortable and deeply compelling.
I loved the way the story explored power dynamics, survival, and the question of what humanity means in a place designed to strip it away. Cain’s possessiveness and Riana’s stubborn grit made them unforgettable, even as some of the violence and voyeuristic elements of the Hold made me squirm. The setting is a world that is bleak and merciless, what makes their relationship stand out as something worth clinging to.
Recommended for: readers who enjoy dark, intense romances with a sci-fi twist, survival themes, and heroes who are anything but conventional.
Final Verdict: Dark, raw & unapologetic; Hold turns survival into a love story that lingers long after the last page.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Fantasy Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Uyane Meoraq Heroine: Amber Katherine Bierce Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: September 12, 2013 Started On: December 19, 2024 Finished On: January 10, 2025
“If you’re worried that you don’t please me, you can be easy, Soft-Skin. Your body was made to pleasure mine.”
The Last Hour of Gann by R. Lee Smith is not just a book. It is an experience, one that swallowed me whole and left me reeling in ways I have yet to recover from. At over 700 pages, it is vast in scope, unapologetically brutal, and achingly beautiful, with a depth that few romances even dare to attempt.
This is the book that ruined me for months, plunging me into a reading slump where nothing else came remotely close. Every book I picked up since seemed to lack luster. And I know that I would never be able to find the same high as I found between the pages of this devastating book. Even now, eight months later, I still catch myself thinking of the story at odd moments, still yearning for another novel that could make me feel the way this one did. It is, quite simply, a masterpiece of dark romantic fantasy.
The story begins with Amber Katherine Bierce who has only ever known hardship. When her mother dies, leaving Amber and her fragile sister Nicci on the verge of eviction, Amber seizes what little hope they have left: two tickets on a colony ship bound for another world. But what promises escape turns into nightmare when the ship crashes on an unknown, hostile planet. From the beginning, Amber is the one who shoulders responsibility, whose stubborn independence and instinct keep others alive, even when those same people repay her only with cruelty and suspicion. She is a heroine who is far from perfect; stubborn to the point of frustration. But that makes her all the more real, all the more human.
Enter Uyane Meoraq, Sword of Sheul, warrior, priest, and reluctant heir to his father’s House. A lizard man. A holy executioner. A creature so disciplined, devout, and steeped in violence that falling in love with him should be unthinkable. And yet, Meoraq is the standard by which I will measure every anti-hero hereafter. Or every monster hero as well.
He is ruthless, a lizard man torn between his faith and his desire, bound by his duty and yet undone by one stubborn, brash, and impossible human woman. His religiosity anchors him, tempers the violence that simmers constantly beneath the surface, but it is Amber who makes him falter, who unsettles him, who becomes the one thing he cannot give up. Watching him resist her, crave her, and ultimately yield to the inevitability of their bond is nothing short of epic.
Their relationship is forged in fire, on a journey through a dying world scarred by the sins of its past. They argue, they circle each other like adversaries, their attraction at once a source of fury and salvation. And when they do finally come together, it is not in the neat, tidy arc of conventional romance but through struggle, suffering, and an intimacy that is both tender and savage. Azrael from Land of the Beautiful Dead may have been unforgettable, but Meoraq is something else entirely. He is a character steeped in darkness and yet when he loves, he loves with a totality that wrecks you.
R. Lee Smith is an author who does not flinch from depraved darkness. This book contains cruelty, rape, fat-shaming, and horror so raw that it twists your gut. The depravity of the humans who survive the crash, the vile selfishness of Nicci and Scott, the unspeakable atrocities Amber endures at the hands of Zhuga and the raiders; these are not easy pages to read by any means. And yet, the ugliness is what makes the beauty shine brighter and the story so wholesome and worth it. When Meoraq refuses to cast Amber aside, even after everything she suffers at the hands of her captors, when he claims her without hesitation, it is one of the most powerful declarations of love I have ever encountered.
The world building is staggering. This is not just the backdrop to a romance; it is a planet with its own theology, history, and sins. The revelation of Gann’s downfall; bioweapons, nano-tech, and an entire civilization undone by its hubris is chilling, and the way faith and ritual evolved to contain violence was both fascinating and tragic.
Meoraq’s pilgrimage to Xi’Matezh elevate the story beyond romance into something almost mythic. And Amber, the atheist who mocks prayer and the existence of God, finds herself crying out to the very same when she has nothing left. The irony, the resonance, it all leaves you hollow and awed.
There were moments I wanted to shake Amber for clinging to her worthless sister, for fighting Meoraq even when he had proven himself a hundred times over. And yet, her flaws are what makes her believable, relatable, and her strength and fortitude, what makes her worthy of the Sword of Sheul. Amber gives as good as she gets, her fierceness and loyalty are traits that stands out. She is not some idealized heroine but a flawed, scarred woman who stands tall in a world determined to break her. Together, she and Meoraq are not easy, but they are inevitable. Theirs is a love fated across galaxies, and in Meoraq’s words, Amber was the woman he was born into this world to find.
Do I wish there had been an epilogue, a glimpse of Amber and Meoraq years later, forging a life together after everything? Absolutely. But even without it, the ending is fitting, devastating, and triumphant in equal measure.
Recommended for: readers who crave true dark romance, with a mix of philosophy, horror, theology, and love all intertwined, who can handle being gutted and remade by a book.
Final Verdict: Brutal, beautiful, and unforgettable, The Last Hour of Gann is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of book, one that ruins you for all others.
Favorite Quotes
There were no atheists in foxholes, it was said, and she guessed when it came to lugging crates uphill in the freezing wind on an alien planet, there were no feminists either. – Amber
“It was a dream,” Meoraq said, getting up. “Dreams don’t mean anything.” He came over to her side of the fire and pulled her blanket back. His body was cool and rough and heavy on top of her, and it felt good in ways that sort of thing never had back on Earth. He caught her chin in a pinch, made her look at him when he entered her. “Dreams are only dreams,” he told her seriously. “This is real.” She came hard, kicking and thrashing, and suddenly found herself alone in the mess of her blanket with rain falling into her stupidly gaping face and Meoraq once more on his side of the fire, watching her.
“But we’re completely boxed in. If anyone bad comes, the only way out—” Meoraq unclipped his kzung and showed her the shine of its blade in the stormlight. “—is through them,” he finished, and flared his mouth to bare all his teeth. “Is that man enough for you?” The flicker of the storm made it difficult to tell, but he thought she smiled. And then she screamed as lightning struck the ground directly outside the window, sending shards of stone into the glass. The thunder that followed shattered what the stones had cracked; the window blew inward and smashed itself across the floor. Meoraq turned his head away from the wall of freezing wind that blasted in at them and was nearly knocked from his feet when Amber slammed up against him. Like a little fork of lightning inside his mind, Meoraq’s thoughts washed out to white. He could not hear the storm, feel the wind. For a moment—the very briefest moment, the very longest—he was aware of nothing but the press of her body to the whole of his, her hands digging at his back, the warmth that was her breath blowing against his heart. He could not feel himself at all, except where he was defined by her touch. Her embrace.
“I am not angry with you,” he announced, hoping to provoke her. “Lies,” she muttered, but she looked at him. Glared at him. And that was better. “A Sheulek is the master of his emotions,” he told her. “I have every right to be angry with you. I choose the higher path. I forgive you and we will say no more about it. Give me my mending kit.” She reached it out from beneath her pack, but only held it for a while. “I should have thanked you for this last night,” she said finally. “I don’t know how it is with your people, lizardman, but when it comes to humans, you don’t interrupt a girl’s crying jag and then expect her to be grateful.” He could not believe this. “Are you criticizing my behavior?” he asked incredulously. Her shoulders fell. “Sure sounds that way, doesn’t it? Damn it. Here.” He did not move to take the kit and, after a few awkward moments, she let her offering arm drop again. They looked at each other. She said, without heat and without warning, “I’ve never needed anyone before. Never in my life. I hate that I need you.”
He opened his mouth to tell her she was acting like a child and heard himself say instead, softly, “Do you think I would not call you by your name if I could?” She looked at him and away, trying to pretend she was not attached to the arm that ended in his grip. “I guess you think it doesn’t matter. I guess you figure as long as I still answer to ‘insufferable human,’ it’s fine.” “It’s honest, at least.” He sighed, opened his hand and rubbed at his brow ridges instead. “There are three words I could call you that come close to the sound of your name. Taambret, a disease we have that causes festering sores of the mouth.” She blinked, her brows puckering. “Mb’z, a vulgar term for one weak of mind,” he continued. “Amyr, the name of a kind of swimming creature that lives and feeds in the mud. And I will not call you by these names.” “You said…You said it didn’t matter what the word meant as long as—” “Not for you.”
“Yes. And stop making that face,” he added. “You need the marrow more than meat in these days.” “I’m not having any.” He snorted. “Yes. You are.” “I don’t want it, Meoraq.” “I don’t want to feed S’kot. Life is full of things we do not want to do and must do anyway.” He turned the strips of tachuqi fat, which were browning up nicely already. “Meat may keep the life in your body a little longer, but no one stays healthy on meat alone. The season for green leaves and grain is done. My cuuvash is spent. Marrow is what I have to give you and you will eat it.” “I don’t see you forcing it on anyone else.” “I don’t care about anyone else.”
“Are you with me, Soft-Skin?” he murmured, stroking at her cold, damp brow. “Open your eyes. See me.” They did open, and Meoraq let out an unmanning shout of relief, but they only rolled back and shut again. She had not seen him, did not know him. But she had opened her eyes. “Uyane Meoraq is with you,” he told her, and put his hand over her heart. “Hear me where you are and follow. Sheul, our Father, has set you in my path. So did you come to me and so you belong to me. Do you hear me, woman? You are mine! I found you, I own you, and I forbid you to die!” His voice, risen to a shout, was a thunder in the tent, a whisper in the world. She did not answer. The heart that beat beneath his hand beat no stronger. “I won’t leave you,” he said softly. “Please don’t leave me.” Nothing. She did nothing. Meoraq curled around her as close as his separate clay could press and closed his eyes. “O my Father, I cry out to You. You gave her to me and if I have not been as grateful as a son should be, I am sorry. But You gave her to me. Now…please…give her back.”
The wind blew over them, stirring the grass and pushing smoke in a hot curtain between them. Meoraq’s eyes on her were unblinking, hot as live coals. She couldn’t look at them, had to look at his dark blood on the sleeve of her last clean shirt instead. “I’m so sorry.” He did not reply. “I should have seen it.” Still no answer. “Please…” don’t leave me. Amber bit down on that until her lips stopped shaking, but as soon as she unlocked her jaws, it found another way out as a trembling, “Please don’t be mad at me.” He broke his gaze at last, turning his terrible eyes and whatever furious emotion was in them on the sky. “I’m not.”
Without speaking, he unbuckled his sword-belt. It and the hooked sword he carried landed on the discarded heap of his tunic. “What are you doing?” Amber asked, and hated the little whisper in which she asked it. “I, nothing,” he said brusquely, sitting down in the grass to unfasten his boots. “You are tending my wounds. And you can bathe me while you’re about it.”
Amber picked the cloth out of the grass and washed her face. It was cold. She dunked it in the stewing pouch, now the bathing pouch, and tried again, but the wind took away the heat before her skin had time to really feel it. She dabbed at Meoraq’s bloody scales some more; he couldn’t feel her or the wind or the cold. She finished cleaning him up, then made one last pass for quills, not so much because she expected to find them, but just so she could keep touching him. The tough old Amber who didn’t need anybody was dead and buried; the weepy, useless Amber who was left needed to be touched tonight, even if all he did was wake up and grab her wrist and tell her to keep her hands to herself.
Amber dabbed unnecessarily at the wound, which had already sealed itself. His blood was hot on her fingers, but cooled fast, darkening to black in the open air. The scent of cloves wafted up. Meoraq slept. She watched him. After a while, she put her hands on him again, stained now with his blood and hers, and ran them gently back and forth as she stared into his face. She wondered if she would be able to tell him from other lizardmen, if she ever met one. She wondered if he were handsome, for a lizard.
He wanted to give her back her people, as much as he hated the thought of having them back. He wanted to prove they were all dead so her grief would finally end, but he couldn’t do it without killing her blood-kin, her damned Nicci. He wanted Amber, the whole Amber, and he wanted her to want him the way she thought she wanted the cowardly, treacherous cattle who had left her in the grass to die. He wanted all these things, all at the same time, and the conflict left him in such a constant state of resentment and self-disgust and sympathy that he could hardly speak to her at all.
“Open to me.” She stiffened, staring intently and in tight-lipped silence into his eyes, but then she obeyed without allowing him even a token show of force, submitting as one already in his possession. He resisted the urge that swept him then, instead touching the soft skin below her brilliant eyes. “You are mine,” he said. It was early for these words. They were meant to come after, when conquest was done, but conquest, it seemed, already was.
“Don’t tell me what I mean.” But his spines lowered and he brushed his knuckles across her brow, then along the shorn half of her head. “How can you say you’re not mine when you gave everything you had to me? Everything you are…” His fingers scraped lightly down her cheek, along her throat and under the neck of her shirt, peeling it back from her skin so that he exposed her bitten shoulder. And did she roll her eyes? Shrug off his hand? Take even one step back out of his reach? No. She just stood there with her mouth slightly open and her girly heart fluttering and a hot glow way down deep in her belly and let him do it. “God gave you to me,” he murmured, nuzzling under her jaw. “Even when I did not know how to ask. He found you anyway and put you in my path. You are the woman I was born into this world to find.”
He smiled. “It pleases me that you want to be my well-mannered woman,” he said, peeling back the neck of her shirt. Ignoring her playful slaps, he licked at the mark he’d left in her soft skin. “But I would rather have the insufferable she-warrior I was given. So if you want me, put your hands on me and tell me so.” “What if I don’t want you?” “Ah, my wife, is that what’s bothering you?” He licked her again, slowly this time, tasting the strange, rich bitters of her blood, and felt it when she shivered. “We have only been married two days. Surely that is too early for you to start worrying that I might set you aside, especially since you have burned for me so readily thus far.”
“They are people.” “They may well be, but with no face, no scales, fur in thatches all over and Gann alone knows what else, they are monstrous people.” Uyane looked at him, head canted but spines all the way forward. “And you married one. Why?” “I had to,” Meoraq said. Lord Uyane snorted. “There had to be other ways to prove these things were children of Sheul. You’re a young man. You have the fame of your bloodline, the favor of God and the face of your father. Why bind yourself to a…a creature?” “I had to,” Meoraq said again. “We were married before I even met her. We were married before I was ever born.”
He fetched what tea was left in his stewing pouch after the humans had been at it and poured it into his new metal flask, then brought it back for her to drink. She managed only a few sips, grimacing at the taste, which was a perfectly good winterleaf blend. “For now, know that you are in His sight.” “Like I was when He let me get on the ship?” “The ship that brought you to me, yes.” He grazed the backs of his knuckles gently across her brow. “He set you on this path, Soft-Skin. Have faith that He will see you reach this journey’s end.”
“Say something,” she said at last. “God is in His heaven,” said Meoraq in a distant voice. “And loves me.” Zhuqa had said something like that once. This time, it was beautiful.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked quietly. “Something I really have known all along. Something that is one hundred percent true. Something…Something I could have built my own shrine on.” He didn’t answer, but he didn’t say no. “You’re an alien,” she told him. “Or I am. One of us is, at any rate.” He sighed and rubbed at his brow-ridges. “Our worlds are billions of miles apart. We come from two entirely different evolutionary trees. You have scales, I have hair. We have different skeletons, different organs, different everything, right down to the number of fingers and toes. We are one hundred percent incompatible. The only thing we have in common is a carbon base.” “So?” he said wearily. “So I’m pregnant,” said Amber, and was amazed at how matter-of-fact she sounded, saying it for the first time. “What the hell do you call that if it isn’t God?”
“You told me once that I was good at seeing evidence and, boy, did it piss me off because this is something that I really did not want to see. But men can only push themselves so far, Meoraq, and men with faith can only push so much further. All the evidence is telling me…there’s something else out there, pulling from the other side. I don’t like it,” said Amber bluntly. “I’m not at peace with it. I sure as hell don’t take comfort in it…but I’m glad you do.” He frowned, tried to look away, but Amber caught his snout and turned him back. “Because all the things God isn’t for me,” she said, “you are. Because of you, I see Him every day. So start talking, lizardman, but I warn you, you’ve got a hard talk ahead of you if you’re going to convince me there’s no God after He gave you to me.” She waited, but he didn’t say anything. He took a few deep breaths, then reached up and brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. His eyes closed. He bent and let her guide his head to rest on her shoulder. He put his arms around her. He did not rage. He wept.
“What are you afraid of the most?” He was quiet. Neck bent, he opened and closed his mouth several times before finally whispering, “Being alone.” She put her arm around him again. “I know I should be more worried about my soul,” he said in a quick, almost embarrassed way. “But I think I have one and I don’t think I’ll care if I’m wrong when I’m dead. What frightens me is knowing I’m alone now. When it matters.”
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novella Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Elloras Cave Hero: Mark Logan Heroine: EMelanie Green Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Published On: January 01, 2006 Started On: September 07, 2024 Finished On: September 08, 2024
A Little Less Conversation by Rhyannon Byrd is an erotic novella set in the small seaside town of Foggy Bottom Beach, delivering exactly what its title promises; a sizzling push-and-pull between two people who have been eyeing each other from across the street for months.
Travel agent Melanie Green has always been the “good friend” type to men, someone to confide in, not someone to burn the sheets with. But when it comes to local bar owner Mark Logan, she wants far more than casual conversation. She wants the full force of the man every woman in town seems to lust after.
Mark is thirty-six, brooding, sexy, and unapologetically direct about his desires. He is not the commitment type, preferring mutually satisfying encounters with no strings attached. But Melanie is not like the women he usually dates. Her shy smile, warm eyes, and quiet determination stirs something deeper in him, even if he tries to keep his distance. For six months he has been fighting the pull, until one day he crosses the street into her office and changes everything.
What starts as mutual flirting quickly becomes a dangerous game of assumptions and misinterpretations. Mark believes Melanie wants nothing more than to test his notorious reputation in bed, while she fears she will forever be relegated to his “friendly companion” category. Their chemistry is undeniable, but their inability to communicate what they really want leads to explosive clashes that are just as intense as their physical encounters.
This is erotica, and Byrd does not hold back on the steam. Mark is a dirty-talking hero through and through, and the sex scenes are explicit, raw, and frequent. That said, the story side is lighter; while there is emotional conflict and character backstory, it takes a backseat to the erotic tension driving the novella.
For readers like myself who wants deep emotional development or a balance of the eroticism and story development, you might not find what you seek. Still, the sexual chemistry between Mark and Melanie is scorching, and Byrd’s talent for writing heat is undeniable.
What I liked most was the sheer intensity of their attraction and the unapologetic way Byrd leans into erotic fantasy. Mark’s possessiveness, the edge of roughness to his passion, and Melanie’s determination to step out of her comfort zone make for combustible scenes. On the downside, the conflict resolution feels rushed, and I personally would have enjoyed more layers to the relationship beyond the bedroom.
Recommended for: readers who want hot small-town romance with a confident, dirty-talking hero and plenty of eroticism to scorch the pages.
Final Verdict: Steamy, intense, and pure escapism. Short on story depth, but scorching in all the right places.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novella Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Owen Heroine: Amy Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: May 01, 2014 Started On: July 09, 2024 Finished On: July 10, 2024
Claire Kent’s Seven is a short, sizzling novella built on the premise of a no-strings-attached arrangement that inevitably turns into something more complicated. The story revolves around Amy and Owen, two people who had set out with the firm intention of keeping things strictly physical, only to find themselves tangled in emotions neither expected. What begins as a daring wager between them soon unravels layers of possessiveness and longing that belie their casual arrangement.
Owen is the quintessential Claire Kent hero; gentle and understated in everyday life but all alpha behind closed doors. A British transplant with charm tucked under his quiet exterior, he is the sort of hero who sneaks up on you with his intensity. Amy, by contrast, is ambitious, a woman determined to keep her emotions in check and not lose herself to something she insists should remain temporary. Yet, despite her best efforts, she struggles with the growing pull Owen has on her.
Their dynamic is built on friction. Amy’s determination to keep things light clashes with Owen’s increasing inability to pretend he doesn’t care more deeply. The push-and-pull between them is where the tension lies, and while the novella is heavy on erotic encounters, it also highlights how easily a relationship meant to be uncomplicated can grow roots.
The sex scenes are exactly what one expects from Kent; creative, scorching, and layered with emotion that sneaks in when least expected. That said, Amy as a heroine was a harder sell for me. Her stubbornness sometimes crossed into annoyance, making her difficult to empathize with. In contrast, Owen’s blend of control, humor, and unexpected tenderness made him the clear standout.
What worked best was Kent’s trademark way of blending intimacy with vulnerability. Even in a story this short, she manages to showcase the risk of opening yourself up to love when you have convinced yourself that you are not looking for it. Still, I could not shake the feeling that Amy’s characterization needed more balance to match the depth Owen brought to the table.
Recommended for: Readers who enjoy erotic romance novellas, British heroes who ooze charm, and the tension of a friends-with-benefits arrangement evolving into more.
Final Verdict: A friends with benefits novella with Kent’s signature eroticism that stands out for inventiveness in the bedroom!
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: Nameless Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Seth Thomas Heroine: Erin Marshall Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Published On: February 08, 2014 Started On: December 04, 2023 Finished On: December 15, 2023
The Nameless book series by Claire Kent is told in three separate installments (though I read it all together from the boxed set), and I was hooked right from the very start. Published in February of 2014, this series makes me so glad to have rediscovered the name under which Zannie Adams is writing (the pen name under which she does not write any longer, the reason why I lost her for a couple of years), because this is as good contemporary romance gets in my opinion!
Seth Thomas, once a troubled and sullen youth who was raised by a distant grandfather, is now a successful and ruthless lawyer, viewed by many as an unrepentant womanizer. Known as the “bulldozer”, he is a man who effortlessly commands attention with his confidence and charisma, but deep inside hides the emotional scars from his upbringing.
Erin Marshall is a judicial assistant in her hometown, who transforms from a shy bookworm to a strong, independent woman following a failed marriage. The scars left over makes her value her independence something fierce, and as a result, has a cynical view of romance in general.
Erin and Seth first crosses paths when Seth is forced to move to Erin’s hometown to live with his distant relative Mac. Erin being the bookworm she is, spends countless hours at the library, where she comes across Seth, a solitary figure browsing books on various topics. A distant memory of a shared encounter is all that remains as both move into adulthood and it is Mac’s funeral years later, that brings these two back together.
The indomitable Seth is caught in a moment of emotional weakness, and it is that opening which allows both Erin and Seth to come together in intense passion that neither can deny. Weeks later, it is a shocking discovery that leads Erin to seek out Seth – that she is now carrying his child.
Erin and Seth takes on a pragmatic approach to the pregnancy, where Erin cautions that all she wants from him is to be as involved as he wants to be – and that marriage and a lifetime of togetherness is not what she seeks. However, given the strong sexual chemistry between the two, their physical relationship serves to be one of the key reasons why the two come together, leading to moments of emotional vulnerability.
Given Erin’s past and her wariness when it comes to losing control, the conflict that arises from Seth’s tendency to go into alpha mode is jarring for both of them. While Seth grapples with his desire to be more involved without fully committing emotionally, Erin finds herself becoming warier when Seth starts becoming more dependable.
With both Seth and Erin carrying their individual emotional trauma, the healing that they both undergo comes from within and through their shared experiences. The unexpected pregnancy serves as the catalyst for their relationship to move beyond a memorable one-night stand. As both of them spend more time together, each finds in the other, sides to their character which they never would have witnessed otherwise, allowing them to see beyond their initial impressions of each other. While Erin is a tougher nut to crack than Seth at some points, it is Seth’s gentle and protective side that proves to be the healing that Erin needs, to finally let go of the shackles that has bound her since she walked away from her marriage.
To say that I loved this story would be an understatement. I loved both Erin and Seth in equal doses. Erin’s journey from the shy, bookish girl to an assertive, independent woman made me like her in spades. Her past trauma while it makes her cautious to a fault, is one that women can relate to, especially given her determination to protect her independence. We have all seen how emotionally scarring relationships can make a woman lose her sense of worth. Being able to rise above all of that is no easy feat and that made me root for her big time. Erin is also witty and unflinchingly honest, making her a heroine who is both grounded and self-aware, my favorite kind if you ask me.
Seth *breathes deeply* is a hero who is intriguing, commanding, and compelling in a way that makes the female reader sit up and take notice. As romance readers, we all love the emotionally distant hero who guards his heart possessively. It is not just Seth’s childhood that makes him wary, but his adult relationships as well which had soured him of any notions of happily ever afters. Seth is sexy to a fault, delivering one of the best sex scenes I have had the fortune to read in a while.
Together, Seth and Erin a dynamite – in bed and out of it. They have a way of challenging each other’s world views, with Erin challenging Seth to confront his emotional walls and Seth encouraging Erin to trust and rely on someone without losing her sense of independence. Their witty banter adds onto the spice levels of this romance, and Ms. Kent delivers a hefty dose of the panty melting variety of sex scenes, which I definitely could not get enough of. I believe that Erin and Seth resonated so deeply with me because they are both imperfect, realistic, and deeply human. The challenges that both of them go through, as individuals and together – made this a romance worth sinking into.
I especially loved getting to see Seth and Erin through different stages of their lives from when Erin develops a teeny tiny crush on the teenager Seth, to an adulthood reunion, a pregnancy discovery, and transitioning into parenthood. Towards the last installment, getting to see Erin and Seth close to their fifties, navigating life together and still so into each other was beautiful in a way that is indescribable. The entire story being told in the third person from Erin’s perspective makes it just better! In my opinion Seth, is the ultimate book boyfriend.
If you are looking for a transformative experience in a contemporary romance, look no further – Seth and Erin’s journey resonates in every way that matters. Definitely recommended!
Final Verdict: Combining fiery chemistry, poignant emotional depth, and exquisite storytelling, Nameless by Claire Kent is a must-read for fans of sensual contemporary romance!
Favorite Quotes
Leaning her face forward, she pressed her lips into his. He was warm and solid beneath her, and he made a little grunt in his throat. He tasted and smelled like Scotch, and also something fainter, more masculine. When she relaxed her mouth on his, he murmured against her lips, “What was that?” “That,” she pronounced, pleased she was thinking so clearly, “was a kiss.”
Seth, looking slick and professional, stood up to greet her. He gave her a cool smile, shook her hand with a courteous, “Good afternoon,” and then gestured her into a leather chair next to the desk. This was the Seth she’d expected today—not the warmly clever, rumpled man she’d fucked several weeks ago. Erin sat down. Took a few deep breaths to dispel the nausea. Summoned up her courage and hoped she wouldn’t start babbling. “So,” he said slowly, giving her a sharp look and leaning back in his chair, “I can’t figure out what you’re after. A job?” He looked so confident, so smug, that Erin’s sense of irony kicked in. The edge of amusement did a lot to calm her nerves, so her voice was clear and crisp as she replied, “Actually, no. I’m very happy with my job and have no desire to work in a law firm. Although I certainly appreciate your unyielding belief in your own importance.”
His gaze crawled up from her thighs to her hips to her belly to her breasts. When he finally reached her face, she saw that his expression was oddly hungry. The wild primitive glint she’d caught earlier in the hall had returned, and it both exhilarated her and made her a little anxious. “Are you sure it can be this simple?” she asked. “This whole thing is complicated enough without making it any worse.” His hands slid up to comb her hair back from her face. “It’s just sex. We’ve had it before. You aren’t secretly in love with me, are you?” “God, no. You?” “Not even close.”
Erin couldn’t seem to stop. She barely even recognized that she was clawing at his shoulders and making the most ridiculous sounds of effort and pleasure she’d ever heard herself make. Barely noticed that she was sweating now and that the flesh of her ass and her breasts were jiggling wildly with their motion. Just needed to feel more of him. Just needed to release this excruciating tension again. “Fuck, Erin,” Seth rasped, his eyes open now and staring down at her body. “Fuck, Erin, you’re incredible. But you’re killing me.” His jaw clenched tightly, and he released an agonized groan as he pumped. “Slow down or I’ll lose it.” “Can’t,” she choked. “Can’t. Need more, Seth. More.”
Feeling both her confidence and her enthusiasm return immediately, Erin adjusted herself more comfortably beside him and pulled him into another kiss. He sat on the side of the bed now, and she had her legs drawn up under her body. But they managed to share a very effective kiss, and Erin didn’t pull away from him, even when he released her lips. She ran one hand down his firm chest to his flat belly and then to the bulge of his erection once more. As she cupped it lightly, she trailed kisses across his jaw line. To his high cheekbone. And finally to his ear. She fluttered her tongue. Seth bucked his pelvis up involuntarily into her hand.
He pulled off his loosened bow tie and started to work on his shirt. Erin watched and tried to be patient, but her entire body now felt on the verge of eruption. Her breasts tingled torturously, so she cupped them with her hands and tried to chaff her tight nipples through the thin fabric of her chemise. The stimulation caused her to arch her back a little, and, when she focused once more on Seth, she saw that he’d stopped midway through taking off his shirt and was staring at her dazedly. The look in his eyes sent another jolt of sensation down to the throbbing ache between her legs. So, as he watched, she slid her hand from her breast, past the curve of her belly, then dipped it under the fluttering skirt of her chemise until she could slip it in between her legs. She wasn’t wearing panties, so nothing was in her way. Seth’s entire body looked painfully tense as he watched her stroking herself. Finally, he rasped, “Getting a head start?”
Erin looked at him over her shoulder. “I don’t mind,” she said. “I’ve never been a fan of excessive control.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He shifted slightly and his hand settled on her belly. “But the lack of control would be counterproductive in this particular instance. We’re supposed to be taking care of your needs, aren’t we?” “Yes,” Erin allowed, feeling strangely shy for some unaccountable reason. “But maybe we can tackle your needs at the same time.” His hand slid up over her breasts and then to her face, and he pushed some of the damp hair off her cheeks. “Very kind of you, but my needs aren’t something you want to fully tackle.”
Seeing and hearing him so uncontrolled was almost as thrilling as her own pleasure. Erin reached behind her thighs until her hand found and closed around his balls. “Fuck,” he grunted, as she squeezed once very lightly. He was pushing more than thrusting now, and Erin knew he was right on the edge. So she squeezed again, harder this time. He froze. Then his whole body throbbed, from his cock to his hands on her flesh. He choked on an incoherent sound as he fell into release.
Her body was tensing up in preparation for climax, but she turned her head as far back as she could. “Seth. Seth…” She tried to put into words what she wanted. Couldn’t. Couldn’t possibly. She was feeling too much. Too deep, too tight, too full, too stretched. Too much. “Erin.” Seth pulled up his shoulders until his weight rested on his bent elbow. From this position, he leaned over to where she was trying to look over her shoulder at him. He was able to capture her lips in a kiss. It wasn’t a skillful or a controlled kiss. Erin was far beyond concentrating, and she couldn’t do more than press her lips against his and gasp into his mouth. His lips clung to hers hungrily, though, when her pleasure finally peaked. And he was still kissing her when she shook through her orgasm.
For a moment, she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes: something deep and molten and unspeakable. Then she couldn’t see anything at all. Because he was kissing her, and her eyes had fallen closed. Her breasts pressed into the hard line of his chest, and her hands wound around his neck before she could begin to stop them. Her tongue darted out to meet his, and her mouth became urgent and hungry.
Yeah,” she gasped, realizing he was on the verge of coming but was trying to fight against it. “Yeah, Seth. You come too.” At her words, he stared up at her face—just a few inches from his—and their eyes met. His eyes were wild, feral, almost pained in their need. But he held her gaze as he let out a muted roar and jerked his pelvis up into her a few more times. He came, and she saw the transformation on his face, in his eyes. The tension breaking and a flood of raw pleasure overwhelming him. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, and the pleasure Erin felt from watching him almost rivaled the lingering feel of her own orgasm.
When Erin looked up blurrily, trying to focus through the rising haze of her deepening pleasure, she saw more in his expression than she’d ever seen before. There seemed to be everything there—a rich, overwhelming flood of feeling—all of it visible, tangible in his gaze. All of the feelings he always suppressed, that he hid behind his cool control. More than he’d ever admitted to. More than she’d ever dreamed possible. All of it—there—in his eyes. Erin closed her own eyes against it, the depth and magnitude of the emotion terrifying her. She wondered how she’d ever thought this man was cold and unfeeling. Wondered if anyone else had ever seen what she’d just seen in Seth—all the raw, naked power of it.
With a thick, helpless groan, he opened his eyes and started moving again. The thick silence of his breathing built into rough, animalistic grunts in time with his rhythm. Erin felt like the whole world was shaking with their motion. She felt helpless, out of control. Until the rough friction of his drives inside her and the jostling of her breasts, ass, and clit coalesced into a new kind of orgasm: one deeper, more intense, not far removed from pain. Matching the rich, swelling ache in her heart.
“Love,” Erin cried out, feeling hot and wild and erotic and free and at the same time strangely secure. Her hips pumped desperately, trying to intensify the friction, and she huffed out a series of sounds to their rhythm, sounding like, “Uh huh.” “Erin,” Seth rasped, the one word a hoarse guttural. His head tossed with a jerk as he tried to hold himself back. Obviously lost the effort as he finally released a hoarse, desperate moan. He pushed into her a few final times, his thrusts hard, choppy, and forceful. “Love…you,” he grunted, before he came with a long shuddering breath.
When his chest was bare, she caressed the hard, smooth lines of his shoulders and ribs. Then reached down to the button of his jeans. With a little fumbling and adjusting from both of them, his hard cock was free and accessible. She rolled her thumb over the tip, making him grunt and buck up into her hand. “Erin.” She gazed down at his tense face and sprawled body. Felt a surge of love, power, and possessiveness overwhelm her.
All of the gathered urgency at her center pushed her to ride him for real, to claim the aching orgasm that was waiting for her. But she kept her motion slow, minimal, increasing their need and extending their pleasure. “Erin,” Seth choked, one of his arms reaching out to fumble for purchase on the cushion beside him, as he visibly struggled to suppress his drive to thrust, to claim her, to fuck her. His face twisted, and his pelvis almost squirmed beneath her rocking. “Fuck, Erin.” “Yeah,” Erin breathed, searching out his lips in a hungry, clumsy kiss. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, stroking into it in a rhythmic, instinctive pattern. Seth grunted, as he buried the fingers of one hand in her hair.
With a desperate sound, she found Seth’s mouth again. Needed to feel him. Love him. Be as close as she could possibly make him. She was kissing him hungrily, frantically, when her orgasm finally broke. She didn’t pull away from his mouth as her body started to convulse. She heard Seth make a helpless, choking sound into her mouth as Erin whimpered with the waves of pleasure. But she kept her arms around him. Kept kissing him. And was still kissing him when she felt him come too. His hips pushed up into her clenching muscles, and his arms tightened around her so suddenly she grunted in surprise. Then she felt the tension in his body release itself. Heard him moan—long, low, and guttural. Felt the pulsing of his cock against the tight clasp of her body. Felt him come in short spasms inside her.
Arching his neck in effort, Seth stared down at her twisting body and contorted face. “Erin,” he said thickly, squeezing the flesh of her hips in his hands as he rocked into her. “Erin, baby, can you come?” “Think so.” She shamelessly shook her body to get the kind of friction she needed. “Just stay…right there.” He did. He didn’t thrust. Just held his cock in position and kept pushing in tight rhythm against her g-spot. He was coiled so tensely he was shuddering with the pressure, but he managed to hold them in position as the rich pleasure gathered between her legs.
“Erin,” Seth muttered, his eyes almost agonized as he held onto his control. “Beautiful. Beautiful. Missed you so much.” She released a few loud sobs—the flooding of her heart mingling with the intense physical sensations—then she cried out a frantic, “Seth! Seth!” She felt the pleasure finally erupt inside her, sending out waves and spasms of overwhelming sensation.
“Seth. Oh God, again.” Her body seemed to have lost its connection with her mind, and—despite the blurred chaos of her thoughts—her body still knew what it wanted. “Yes,” Seth bit out, clearly on the edge of his control. “Yes. One more, baby. Come for me once more.” She was going to. It was happening even now. Erin sobbed with pleasure and effort and need, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the overwhelming sensations. Her breasts were swinging wildly with their primitive motion, and she’d tossed her head so much that her damp hair was covering her face. As the final orgasm build up inside her, she kept choking out sounds that were louder and louder. Tried to stifle the noise. Couldn’t. Felt the world start to shudder all around her. Then she fell over the edge, her body jerking in clumsy desperation as she tried to hold herself upright on trembling limbs.
Just as she was on the edge, not quite coming but too far to draw it back, Seth raised his head from between her legs. Before she could react, he’d moved over her, burying his hard cock inside her and rearing up above her on straightened arms. The sight of his strong body, intense, hungry expression, and familiar face all combined with the sudden sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock. The orgasm that had already formed erupted with shattering intensity.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: First Person, Single Series: Escorted Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Ander Lourdes | Alexander Milton Heroine: Lori Addison Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Published On: December 01, 2020 Started On: November 18, 2023 Finished On: November 21, 2023
Escorted by Claire Kent, first published in December 2020, introduces readers to the complex and unusual romance that buds to life between 32-year-old Ander Lourdes, a professional escort, and 26-year-old Lori Addison, a romance novelist in search of her first intimate experience. From the very start, Ms. Kent does an excellent job out of drawing readers in. Being told entirely in the first person from Lori’s point of view, gives Escorted an enigmatic edge, adding more nuance to the story than would have been otherwise.
The story begins with Lori, being the practical person she is on the sidelines of her career as a romance author, finds the only logical solution to getting rid of her virginity is to hire someone who is experienced in the matter. Little does she know when hires 32 year old Ander Lourdes to be her escort, that her entire life would be turned upside down, and that her innate curiosity itself when it comes to the exotic man that Ander turns out to be, would be her undoing.
Ander is a man who is accustomed to separating his emotions from his work. Always putting the needs of his clients first, Ander is a perfectionist in what he does, and he knows how to deliver, with ten years of experience to his name. He initially approaches his sessions with Lori with the same cool detachment he does for all his clients, intent on giving Lori the unforgettable experience that she craves. It is through Lori’s eyes that readers have to gauge every flicker of emotion that Ander feels and exhibits, and that keeps the reader on the edge, craving more of Ander, just like Lori does with each and every encounter between them.
The chemistry between Ander and Lori is electrifying, even from the first. Ms. Kent masterfully builds the sexual tension that evolves gradually, drawing readers into each layered interaction between the two, which makes for an emotionally satisfying experience along with the high from the sizzle. What starts as a transaction begins to feel less business-like as Ander and Lori spend more time together. Lori’s inquisitive nature, coupled with the sexual intimacy that builds between them starts to bring their emotional guards down, and thus starts to crumble each of their carefully erected walls. It is Ms. Kent’s writing here that shines—she presents the journey between Anders and Lori as it evolves from being strangers to lovers with a sincerity that feels both raw and genuine.
The story’s strength lies in its character development. Ander, with his stoic exterior and painful secrets, begins to grapple with emotions he has spent years repressing. Ander’s brokenness, his guarded heart, and his strained relationship with his father all play into his character’s complexity which leaves the reader hurting and wanting to hurt a certain someone badly. Lori’s journey is also one of self-discovery, her experiences with Ander teaching her not only about intimacy, but about the courage to pursue genuine connection and exhibit confidence in other aspects of her life.
The way Ms. Kent entwines the raw intensity of their physical encounters with emotional growth is nothing short of masterful, and that is what kept me glued to the pages, never tiring of what takes place between the two. The way that she manages to make each sexual encounter meaningful (and there is a LOT of them littered across the pages), not to mention impactful and erotic, was just amazing to me as someone who has read a lot of great and also her fair share of not so great erotic novels.
It is Lori’s deeply empathetic nature and perhaps her career as a romance author that allows her to see beyond what Ander presents to the rest of the world. The path that Lori and Ander takes towards their happily ever after is as unique as is this story – from lovers to friends to lovers back again. How Ms. Kent brought together elements of raw passion, heartache, pain, and angst to deliver an explosive and mind-bending read will continue to amaze me in the years to come.
Escorted is a true masterpiece, a romance that goes beyond the expected norm, and that is my key takeaway from this experience. Ms. Kent does not shy away from the complexities of a relationship like Ander and Lori’s, and in doing so, she gives us readers a story that is as honest as it is captivating. If Ms. Kent had chosen to write about Ander and Lori’s entire lives, I would have kept on reading, with zero qualms.
For fans of contemporary erotic romance, Escorted is a compelling read that handles unconventional themes with a deft touch. With beautifully written prose, intense character chemistry, and a satisfying conclusion, Escorted is a memorable journey from start to finish.
Definitely and absolutely recommend this gem to readers of romance who love a good erotica with emotional depth!
Final Verdict: Escorted is a tour de force by Claire Kent, making a trope that is extremely challenging feel realistic and heartfelt; managed to occupy my every thought when I had to force myself to turn away from the story to attend to life.
Favorite Quotes
She walked him to the door, where they looked at each other for a minute. Then Lori asked one final question. “How many virgins have you had sex with?” Ander glanced away, and she could tell he was trying to compose the best answer. “The truth,” she said. “No pretending. How many.” He let out a breath and met her eyes. “Just one. You’re my first.” “Oh.” She swallowed. “You’re my first too.”
“Oh, God, Ander,” she gasped, her head jerking to the side as she felt a climax tightening inside her already. “I need to come so bad.” He made a strange sound. A grunt, or something. And then he pulled his fingers out of her wet, clinging channel. Before she could whine about the loss of penetration, he’d replaced it with his cock. He slid into her with a smooth, hard stroke, and she bit back a cry of pleasure at the tight, tantalizing feel of him inside her. She managed to look back over her shoulder at Ander. He was straddling her thighs and holding her bottom high enough to allow his access. But Lori’s upper body was flattened on the bed, and she felt helpless and deeply sexy at the same time. She clawed at the bedding and moved a pillow lower so she could bury her face into it if she felt the need to scream.
She thought she would just enjoy watching him come, but the shaking of their bodies and the way his cock drove inside her pushed her into climax once more. “Oh God,” she gasped, clawing at his neck and shoulders. She couldn’t stop, even though she knew she was leaving angry scratches on his skin. He grunted, and she read it as a question “Coming again.” Her body tightened up and she tried to breathe as he’d taught her to. She couldn’t even begin to take a full breath. She managed to wrap her legs around him, squeezing him with her arms and her legs. Her orgasm was on the edge of cresting, and Ander’s hot, shuddering, urgent body felt delicious against hers. She cried out breathlessly as the tension broke inside her, and Ander let go at the same time. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, she was conscious of Ander releasing a loud, guttural sound, just at her ear. His hips jerked and his body seemed to pulse as his own climax ripped through him.
Finally, he met her eyes again. “Lori, you don’t have to be nice. You pay me for my services.” She almost sputtered in outrage. “What the hell does that mean? Of course, I have to be nice. You’re a human being, aren’t you? What the fuck did your father do to you to make you think you don’t deserve to be treated with dignity and humanity?” She hadn’t really meant to voice that last question. Her volatile feelings and confusion got the best of her. But she had voiced it. Almost spit it out in his face. It finally broke the iron control Ander had been using to rein in his feelings. He turned on her abruptly, stepping forward, pressing her back against the wall with his intense presence rather than force. “Lori,” he began, his voice thick and low. He planted one hand on the wall next to her head. “I fuck you. You pay me. That’s our arrangement. That doesn’t entitle you to invade my privacy, demand to see the ‘real me,’ or pry into whatever motivations I might have for doing what I do.”
“I’m not mad,” he said again, although his entire body belied his words. He was coiled so tightly he was practically shuddering. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his eyes had ignited. Absurdly, Lori felt her body respond. She knew it was entirely inappropriate. They were in the middle of a very bizarre argument, and sex should be the last thing on her mind. But he looked so intense, almost passionate. For once, he seemed to be expressing something real—with his body language if not with his words.
“For the fourth time,” Ander rasped, still speaking into her ear. “I’m not mad.” She shifted restlessly against the wall, dying for some sort of friction against her skin. Her squirming caused her to brush up against Ander. She felt something. Something that shocked her so much her mouth fell open. Her lower belly had brushed against the front of Ander’s trousers. He was hard. He must have seen her reaction. He must know that she knew he was aroused. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way, though. He’d pulled back enough to look her in the eye and ask hoarsely, “Tell me why you’ve continued to schedule engagements with me.” She was too confused and overwhelmed and turned-on and shaky to even begin to make up a lie. So she gasped out the truth. “Because I like having sex with you.” He nodded, as if he’d known she would say that. “So why do you keep making this more complicated than it is?”
“Lori,” he rasped. She didn’t know if it was a question or an expression of pleasure. She answered instinctively. “It feels so good. You come,” she panted. “I want you to come.” His breathing accelerated even more as his whole body started to shake. She’d never experienced anything like it. All the shuddering angst that he’d been trying to stifle earlier seemed on the verge of imploding in her arms. Her eyes blurred over and her nerve endings buzzed with pleasure. She wasn’t working up toward any climax, but the whole thing felt like one long high. Ander arched his neck forward again, lowering his mouth once more to the crook of her neck. She cried out loudly when she felt his teeth bite down into her flesh. Then his whole body pulsed and jerked as he came with an extended guttural sound.
Sucking in air as she came down, she started to claw at Ander’s ass, trying to move him into position, still hungry for more. He adjusted his body to align his cock at her entrance. Then, with a pitch of his hips, he pushed his cock inside her. She arched up again as he entered her. She was tight from nearly a month without sex. “Fuck,” he muttered. He was bracing himself with his hands on the bed, and his face had jerked the side. She wanted him to look at her again. Wanted to see the expression in his eyes. “All right?” she managed to ask. He straightened his neck and opened his eyes. Made a sound that might have been a choked laugh. “Yeah. You ready?”
Lori closed her eyes. She had no intention of opening up about this, but she heard herself saying the words anyway. “I’ve always felt second-best. You know, always in the shadow of someone else. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that I was in love with a guy all through high school and college who didn’t love me back. And this thing with Phil kind of made me feel that way again. Like I was being stupid for expecting the hot guy to fall in love with me.” Her voice cracked a little as she concluded, “I guess I keep waiting for someone to choose me, to want me, over all the other women he could have.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind. About scheduling engagements with me.” Something softened in her chest at his slightly stilted words. Maybe it was relief she felt. She was so glad that he seemed to enjoy his engagements with her. Obviously, this wasn’t some sort of fated romance, but at least she was a little more to him than just a job. He seemed to like her well enough, and he didn’t mind having sex with her. She felt like that was quite an accomplishment, given her complete lack of experience. “Me too.” She watched him walk down the hall to the elevator. Lean, upright, sleek, and urban. Infinitely experienced. And somehow wounded.
Lori was panting hoarsely as her body slumped forward. Ander fell with her, and for a moment his hot, sated weight rested on top of her again. He panted too. On each exhale, he made a sound like a moan. And Lori would be perfectly happy for them never to move from this position, from this visceral satisfaction.
He walked silently to the bathroom. She heard the water run in the sink. And she didn’t hear it go off. After a minute, a jolt of sharp curiosity propelled Lori out of her sated stupor. She climbed off the bed and hurried over toward the bathroom, determined to find out what Ander did in there when he took extra time. The door was halfway opened, so she could peer in. Ander stood in front of the sink full of running water. Ander was leaning over, bracing himself with both hands on the counter. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes closed, and his head bent. His face and head were streaming wet, from where he’d evidently splashed water on his face. And he appeared to be taking deep breaths. Lori gaped for a minute. He looked exhausted. Overwhelmed. And strangely aching.
After a long time, he finally started to shift beneath her. His face had been pressed against her neck and her hair, but he lifted it and loosened his arms. Reluctantly, Lori pulled back, peering up at him with trembling lips and stinging eyes. Something about the haunted emptiness of his gaze changed as he saw her face. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips along one of her cheeks. Then stared down at the moisture from her tears on his skin. “Are these for me?” he breathed, sounding either astonished or awed. She choked back another little sob at his inability to believe that she would care enough for him to cry. “Ander,” she pleaded, taking his face in both of her shaky hands. “Please let me help.” With a guttural sound, he tightened his arms around her again, but this time he found her lips in a desperate, hungry kiss.
She arched her spine as her pleasure started to crest. Instead of closing all the way, her eyes flew open on a taken breath. And, in that rawest moment, she saw everything in Ander’s eyes. Heat and need and helplessness and rage and desire and loss and primitive power. All of it, there, in his eyes. And she knew—she knew—he needed this even more than she did. She knew that this was his only channel, his only outlet, his only lifeline against the desperate turmoil of his pain. He wasn’t just finding pleasure or escape in her body. He was finding something lost in himself.
“Ander!” she gasped, as one of his hands slipped between her thighs to press against the place she was most hot and wet. Her back arched as she tried to ride his hand with embarrassing abandon. Ander raised his face to stare at her for a moment, his eyes hot, hungry and almost primitive. Then he groaned and leaned forward to mouth her throat. Without warning, he bit down hard. Lori came against his hand with a choked cry.
As they moved together, they held gazes, and she saw everything she needed to know in his eyes. She had no idea how she’d gone so long without seeing, without knowing, without realizing the kind of man Ander really was. He wasn’t a cool man, despite the pretense he put on. He was a passionate man who’d learned not to be. But now she saw real passion in his eyes, in his expression. And it matched the depth of passion in her own heart.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Erotic Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: The Seducers, #1 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Magnus Stynwyck Heroine: Melissa Griffin Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: October 01, 2021 Started On: October 01, 2022 Finished On: October 02, 2022
She was glad nobody else could hear the noise she made. To say he looked like a water god out of mythology was trite, but, oh, it was so very, very true. He strode from the waves like some male version of The Birth of Venus. Or The Birth of Adonis or Zeus or one of those randy Greeks or Romans who was always getting his kit off at the drop of a hat. Melissa realized she was sliding off the rock because she’d leaned forward so much and pushed herself back into her crack, briefly disgusted by her own avidity but quickly suppressing it. He bent at the waist and slicked water from his legs with both hands. She swallowed.
Believe it or not, it was the Grantchester series, starring a vicar (James Norton) who also moonlights as a detective in solving murder mysteries that made me read Melissa and The Vicar by S.M. LaViolette. It is an intriguing premise after all, the hero being a curate (an assistant to the vicar) whose fate is intertwined with that of a heroine who owns one of London’s most exclusive brothels.
First published in 2021 as the debut book in The Seducers series, Ms. LaViolette brings to readers the story of 24 year old Magnus Stynwyck and 29 year old Melissa Griffin, whose age difference might not have mattered all that much if not for the fact that Melissa’s lived reality makes her well beyond her years, unacceptable by society’s standards to lead a life that is considered respectable.
Melissa’s first encounter with Magnus comes as she moves to the village of New Bickford for a brief spell to recuperate and regain her zest for the business, as her rescuer from the vicious rooster in the village. For someone who has seen it and done it all, Melissa is awestruck by the beauty that is Magnus, who makes her feel shy and fidgety for the first time she can recall, something she had long forgotten along with the innocence of her youth.
Magnus has always known that he wanted to join the clergy when he grew up, the youngest of six brothers. His family had never understood why he wanted to take up the vocation, and he had long given up trying to convince them that this was his calling.
While Melissa finds herself enjoying the solitude and the sedate pace of life in the village, she is at the same time taken aback by how strongly she finds herself attracted to Magnus, which she knows in her heart is futile in every sense. For someone as well schooled in the art of seduction, Melissa finds her heart racing, her mind distracted, and her body reacting to the mere presence of Magnus and the charm that he wields on her heart without even trying.
Melissa’s plans to prevent her heart from breaking results in her fleeing after tasting the exquisiteness of what it means to surrender to what is between her Magnus. However, she never factors in the stubbornness that courses through Magnus which his doting mother claims to be her youngest son’s only sin. The steely determination behind the gentleness that is Magnus proves to be Melissa’s undoing, and give in she does, even with all her misgivings about them and what it would mean for Magnus, until she realizes that her past is very much part of her present, which could end up destroying not just what she has with Magnus, but her very existence in the process.
I thoroughly enjoyed and loved the heady experience of reading this novel. One thing that is always true for books by Ms. Spencer aka Ms. LaViolette is that every single story that she has written to-date has a solid tale to tell. The steam factor which she does so well only enhances the underlying story and gives it the edge and angst the stories deserve, and this is true for Melissa and the Vicar in every sense.
The great characterization of the story is what beguiled me the most, the different facets to both Melissa and Magnus which continues to surprise the reader at every turn. Melissa’s was by far the most intriguing, all the horror that she had lived through at the tender age of thirteen just being unreal. Her indomitable strength to persevere, to rise above, even when she continues to be at war with her own conscience about being the owner of the very brothel at which she had served, is a study of contrasts that really got to me. Melissa is a survivalist at heart, and I don’t think I can even begin to comprehend what it would do to anyone’s psychology to have survived the kind of trauma that she lived through.
Of Melissa and Magnus, the latter is the dreamer, the one who believes that everything would turn out alright and perhaps in his naivety, assumes that everyone would see Melissa as he does, and accept her into the fold with open arms. The most shocking truth about Melissa’s past as it unfolded is the reason this story stands out in such a remarkable way, and how Magnus seemed to shift and show us the different facets to his character which proved to be my undoing.
I loved Magnus for his gentleness, his stubbornness, his love for Melissa that was pure in every sense, his need for the woman who rocks his very existence out of its orbit, and the way he stands true to his convictions, even if it pains him to do so. There was no way on earth that Melissa could have resisted the force that was Magnus as unleashed, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
The ending was realistic, especially given Melissa’s profession and the stain it carries in society. The epilogue was lovely, and made me smile with joy from inside out. Definitely recommended!
Final Verdict: As Melissa puts it, Oh, Mr. Stanwyck, what a wonderful surprise you turned out to be! Top notch characterization makes this an instant page-turner!
Favorite Quotes
“This is wrong, Melissa.” He’d meant to sound firm, commanding—but it came out more of a question. She gave a throaty chuckle, working her way down his jaw to his neck. “How can something so wonderful—between two people who love each other—be wrong?” Her lips pushed into his cravat and her mouth settled over his Adam’s apple. And then she bit him.
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.
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.”
A Maldivian's Passion for Romance 