Falling in love between hero and heroine considered forbidden within society or in the hero or heroine’s perspective.
Eg: During the colonial times, love between an aristocrat and an ex-convict was considered forbidden.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: New Adult Romance Series: St. Mary’s Rebels, #1 Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Arrow Carlisle Heroine: Salem Salinger Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: September 17, 2020 Started On: September 19, 2020 Finished On: September 23, 2020
My Darling Arrow by Saffron A. Kent seems to be a hit with a lot of readers, especially fans of Ms. Kent’s work. I too am a fan of Ms. Kent, since having stumbled upon the greatest love story ever written on the unrequited love theme, i.e.Unrequitedby the author. Since then, I have read her entire backlist of published books (which is not a gigantic number, if you are wondering), and loved almost all of them. Dreams of 18 which was published prior to this was where it all started going downhill; I found the story to be regurgitated version of her earlier works, with just enough tantalizing elements thrown into the mix to make it wholesome. My Darling Arrow, I am sorry to say, is incomparably much worse.
The debut in the St. Mary’s Rebels series, My Darling Arrow brings together 23 year old Arrow Carlisle and 18 year old Salem Salinger, the latter, who for all intents and purposes would not have been at St. Mary’s had it not been for her “rebellious” act of trying to leave home in the middle of the night. Salem and Arrow’s lives had crossed paths when Salem and her sister Sarah had gone to live with Arrow and his mother. Salem had fallen in love with Arrow on first sight at the tender age of ten, while Arrow had gone ahead and fallen in love with Sarah, who is of the same age as he.
Years go by, until St. Mary’s is the setting and testing grounds in which Salem once again comes face to face with the love of her life who would never be hers. That is until she finds out what truly happened to bring Arrow to her turf, tempting her beyond reason to say yes to everything that Arrow proposes. While I wanted to love the story so much, it fell flat on so many levels that it saddens me to even write a review as such.
I found My Darling Arrow to be too saccharine for my tastes. I found the depth of or rather the lack of in-depth characterization for both Arrow and Salem to be problematic. I wanted more than repetitive descriptions of Arrow’s unbelievably hot physique and ramblings of Salem’s mind when it comes to Arrow and how much she wants him. I grew tired of the lack of anything substantial happening up till towards the latter half of the book, which I believe was one of the biggest reasons for my lack of enjoyment in the story.
The fact that I found neither Salem nor Arrow endearing enough rests on the reasoning highlighted above – if you do not know enough about the characters you are reading about, and everything is either about how manly Arrow is and/or how emotionally wrecked both of them are in their different ways; I am guessing it all just ends up being tedious to read about from a certain point onward.
Sexy and sinfully hot sex scenes is something I have always counted on Ms. Kent to deliver, but alas, even that failed to materialize in a large way because there was just too much time spent trying to appease readers who would have had problems with Salem and Arrow getting together with Sarah in the picture and painting this picture of a heroine who ticks all those boxes when it comes to modern reader tastes.
I wonder whatever happened to the Ms. Kent whose books I fell head over heels in love, books that I keep recommending to other like-minded readers and receiving rave and glowing reviews of afterwards. There was such heart and force behind her previous books which slayed all my emotions and then some, the author who did not care about the conventional norms in romance writing and was not afraid of pushing the boundaries, staying true to the course of her characters.
Recommended for die-hard fans of Ms. Kent. I for one, am sorely disappointed.
Final Verdict: My Darling Arrow was unpalatable on so many levels; the despondency I feel is one that is indescribable.
He leans over and kisses the corner of my mouth and I freeze. My eyes go wide when he flicks his tongue out and licks that corner too before whispering, “Tell you what. You waited for me, didn’t you? You worried over me. Not to mention, you’re my friend. So maybe I can give you a little something.” “Something like what?” He kisses the corner of my mouth again, a small, soft, soothing kiss. “Your first kiss,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning over my mouth. “I told you I wouldn’t but maybe I can break my own rule.” “You can?” “Uh-huh. For you.” “For me?” “Yeah. Just to be nice.” Oh God. Thank God.
He curses and strains, his cock expanding inside my channel. His head rears back, his spine bowing. I see his sweaty, hot body become tight and stone-like as his cock jerks inside of me and spurts the first dose of his cum in the latex. We’re both coming together then. He’s pulsing inside of me like I’m pulsing around him. I scratch his ridged abdomen and his hand fists my hair at the scalp. I realize that’s what he wanted to hear too – that I’m his. That I’m my Arrow’s, and I smile again.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Lachlan Matthew Taylor Heroine: Dandelion Meadows Sensuality: 3.5 Date of Publication: March 25, 2020 Started On: August 14, 2020 Finished On: August 19, 2020
Sweet Dandelion by Micalea Smeltzer is a new to me author, whose books that I would definitely be checking out from here onwards. Following the aftermath and recovery from a school shooting that had rendered the heroine Dandelion Meadows unable to cope, she is required to take counseling sessions at school, which is how she meets the 29 year old school counselor, Lachlan Matthew Taylor.
Dandelion has been trying to move on from what happened for the past nine months, having lost her mother at the school shooting incident. The trauma is raw and alive within her, and though Dandelion is skeptical of the efficacy of the sessions she is required to take, meeting Lachlan is an experience in itself. From the start, Lachlan is conscientious of her needs. He does not push her into going in directions which is extremely difficult for her, but at the same time, Dandelion finds herself drawn to, and at peace with her thoughts when it comes to the her sessions with Lachlan.
When things start to change between them, even though both Dandelion and Lachlan try their darnedest to not let it happen, somehow, somethings in life are inevitable. It is pretty difficult for Lachlan to reconcile his burgeoning feelings for Dandelion with that of his role as her school counselor and as a result he struggles more than Dandelion does when it comes to the consequences of their coming together. The fact that he is also a lot older than Dandelion is one reason, and even though both Lachlan and Dandelion are lonely in a way that they both alone identify with, there is a whole host of challenges that they both need to overcome, if their love is to survive.
There is a sweet poignancy to the story as it unfolds, and Lachlan, my God Lachlan!, is definitely one for the book boyfriends list. He is sweet, dreamy, kind, has a soul that yearns for love and deep abiding connection with the other half of his soul, loves fiercely and gently at the same time, and is demanding and intense in bed, setting the pages afire. I loved Lachlan from the very first moment he came into the picture, and in a way, he reminded me of Professor Lukas Halstrom, but Lachlan is definitely one of the most unique heroes I have come across and I fell for him hard and fast.
Dandelion has her own growing up to do, even though she has an old soul that yearns for Lachlan in every single way. Even with everyone in her life dead against the thought of Lachlan and her together, Dandelion knows that she would choose to be with him in a heartbeat, if he were willing to take the risk. But then love is never easy to conquer as we would like to think, and there is a lot that Dandelion goes through before she is ready to take that step and understand where Lachlan was coming from all along.
Needless to say, I loved Sweet Dandelion. It is no mean feat to cast two protagonists whose love would be frowned upon and castigated severely by society (and it is usually for good reason), and make it into something so profoundly beautiful that I am at a loss as to how to properly describe the feelings that coursed through me as I delved deeper into their story. The in-depth characterisation, how comprehensively Ms. Smeltzer explored the range of emotions between the two, not to mention that of the secondary characters in the story; all that and more lent this tale an edge that lasted up till the last page was read and done.
There is nary a word nor character that I would do away with in Sweet Dandelion and I believe this is what extraordinary romance books are all about – taking on difficult tropes and working them out in a way that leaves the reader spellbound from start to finish. The TWO (not one), epilogues tucked at the end made up for a lot that happened as the story reached towards its climax and beyond, and I loved and reveled in all o it!
Definitely recommended for those who love romances that sweep you off your feet. Sweet Dandelion is one for the records and Lachlan, definitely a keeper!
Final Verdict: Sweet Dandelion is story that is nuanced, sumptuous, and phenomenal; Lachlan and Dandelion sweep you off your feet on a journey that is worth every obstacle faced along the way to their HEA!
I lean over, closing the short distance between us. The peppermint on his tongue permeates the air and I lick my bottom lip before I press my lips to his. My mouth tingles from the taste of him. He doesn’t move at first, but then a manly growl echoes in his throat. His long strong fingers tangle in my hair. His hold is tight enough to hurt, but isn’t painful. His tongue finds mine and that minty taste is everywhere. I’ve never been kissed like this before. It’s a ravaging more than a kiss, like he’s a knight claiming his bounty. His stubble burns my cheeks, but I don’t mind the sting—it’s a welcome reminder that this is real, I’m kissing Lachlan, but more importantly he’s kissing me back.
His eyes close once more, murmuring my name. In a blink his hands are on my hips. I squeak as he pulls me onto his lap. My hips sink down onto him, a soft moan parting my lips at the feel of him pressed to my center. “Dani,” he croons. His hands fist in my hair. I roll my hips, eliciting another moan from my throat. “Dani,” a purr this time. Finally, blissfully, his lips are on mine.
He kisses me with a desperation I mirror with my movements. I’m eager to get closer to him, to feel every part of him. Our tongues tangle together with a passion we’ve kept chained for months. This is the kind of kiss I’ve seen in movies and read in the books he’s let me borrow. It’s a kiss that changes things. There’s no coming back from this. It doesn’t in any way compare to our first kiss. That was a hesitant, fragile thing, while this is a claiming.
“Lachlan,” I gasp, and he bites my bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth. His blue eyes meet mine in the dark as he releases my lip. “Let go, Dani, I’ve got you.” I don’t want to let go, because once I do, I’m afraid this moment between us will be over too. There’s no controlling it once I fall off the ledge into an abyss of pleasure. His hold tightens on my hips, his own rocking against mine. He pants, letting out a low groan. “Fuck.” We fall together. Spinning. Twirling. Stars. Pleasure.
“Why does it have to be you?” he whispers gruffly, moving his lips over my face. “Kiss me,” I beg, not even caring if I sound wanton. He does, our dance long forgotten but a whole new one beginning to play out. His hands move down my body, creating a trail that sends fire spreading through my body. “Touch me,” I beg. “Please.” My voice is achy with need. “Dani—” “Please.” His uttered, “Fuck,” is a deep rumble.
His long legs round the couch, carrying me down the hall. He taps the door to his bedroom with his foot and in a blink my back hits his mattress. His big body is a blanket over mine. With his grip on my neck, our lips are only separated by millimeters. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” “Show me.” His eyes flash in the darkened bedroom, only illuminated by the lights emanating from the outside. “Dani—” “Show me,” I beg, kissing his chin. “Show me.” His jaw. “Show me.” His cheek. “Show me.” His eyes stare deep into mine. Looking. Searching. Finding.
“I love you,” I murmur, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. His hands flex against my sides, his jaw working back and forth as his eyes fill with turmoil. I fear he’s going to shove me away, that common sense is going to overtake our feelings, but he doesn’t do that. “I love you, too.” The words are barely above a whisper, but they’re every-fucking-thing and I feel them all the way down to my toes. Saying them once must make him bolder, because he says them again, this time louder. “I love you.” Louder. “I love you.” He begins to punctuate each word with a kiss. “I love you. I love you. I love you Dandelion Meadows. Despite it all, despite myself, I love you.” Our kisses deepen, fueled by a love that defies the odds.
“Dani,” he growls my name into my ear, turning into a feral sound. “Fuck, you’re killing me baby.” He applies a little more pressure to my clit, increasing his speed. My orgasm hits like a rocket shooting into the sky. My whole body shakes and when my hands fall from the glass, my body unable to stay upright, he’s there to catch me. He gathers me into his arms, holding me close, gently now. He rubs my back as the tremors fade. “That was—” He silences me with a kiss. Rubbing his thumb over my cheek he stares into my eyes. “Amazing,” he finishes for me.
“Lachlan—” In a blink he’s upon me, his mouth taking mine prisoner. He’s rough, demanding. His hold on my cheeks is tight and I find my back pressed against the wall. He claws at me like a wild animal, bunching the tulle of my skirt in his hands, trying to yank it up. I kiss him back with fervor, a spark igniting into an entire fire inside me from one touch of his lips. I match his desperation, pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head. He tosses the shirt off like he can’t get it far enough away from him. His eyes are twin sapphires blazing when he looks down at me. His whole body is a taut live wire waiting to go off. “If you don’t tell me how to get you out of this dress, I’ll rip it off of you.”
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Sargent Wolf Heroine: Tempest Sensuality: 3.5 Date of Publication: September 01, 2018 Started On: July 25, 2020 Finished On: August 06, 2020
Having experienced the high that came with reading Becoming His Mistress, I quickly grabbed a copy of His Father by A. E. Murphy as this one seemed to be right up my alley. Younger heroine who meets the father of her best friend, and bam! The sparks fly and there is no looking back, even when the union is bound to be opposed and face a lot of turbulent times before reaching the ultimate happily ever after.
When Sargent Wolf’s son Maddox brings home his best friend Tempest, with whom Maddox had been backpacking all over the world, the reaction that the first introduction itself triggers in both Sargent and Tempest is one that cannot be denied. Sargent hides his obvious fascination with Tempest’s piercing and more behind gruff indifference, while Tempest tries her hardest to act as if its every day occurrence to meet a man who makes her wet with want with one searing glance sent her way.
Before long, Sargent and Tempest give in to their desire for one another, come what may. There is no denying that they fit like two peas in a pod, with Tempest answering a deep seated need in Sargent for acceptance and love, something that he would not have admitted to even with a gun pointed at his head. However, there are darker forces at play in Sargent’s life that he has to sort out before anything longer term can come of what is between him and Tempest, not to mention facing Maddox once the cat is out of the bag.
His Father, though not of the caliber as Becoming His Mistress, was a compelling read for the most part. I liked both Sargent and Tempest; Sargent is the kind of hero that I love best – gruff, demanding, and reluctant to face the truth of his feelings towards the heroine. Tempest was exactly what Sargent needed – kind and gentle, with a depth to her character which gives her a maturity that most people her age would not have.
There is a particular incident in the story as it reaches a pivotal point, which many readers may find to be a turn off. But I think I understood why what happened took place. There was literally nothing else Sargent could have done at that point in time, but give in. But at the same time, I found the turn the story took to reach that point a bit jarring. While it was understood that Sargent had had a tough time with Maddox’s mother, the whole drug sale affiliation tangent just seemed out of place, even though I suppose it served its purpose towards the end.
I loved the angst factor that came later on, and how Sargent came through at the last minute, lending the emotional depth to the story that I craved when all was said and done. The one thing that I missed was an epilogue – it would have meant so much more for the story had there been an epilogue at the end.
Recommended for fans of those who love age gap romances, when falling in love seems so wrong, but feels so darn right.
Final Verdict: With emotional depth, angst, and scorching hot sex leaping out of the pages, Ms. Murphy hits it out of the ballparkwith His Father.
“Jesus,” he whispers when he finally makes contact and slips his finger into the wetness between my thighs. I whimper, shifting on the soft rug as he drags the moisture to my clitoris and rolls it gently, only quickening his pace when I shudder. I reach out and grab his bare arm as my aching, clenching, and burning body writhes from his touch alone. “Please,” I beg on a whisper, aching to be filled, touched more, something. Anything. When his mouth closes around my pierced nipple and his tongue rolls around it I grip the fur rug and come undone.
I crush my lips against hers, making her squeak with surprise. Making myself groan as she accepts me so willingly, tangling her tongue with mine perfectly. I grip her around the back of her neck holding her to me as I pull her closer, forcing her to slide her leg over my lap until she’s straddling me. Her fingers push through my hair, it feels incredible and sends tingles down my spine and straight to my dick. When she releases my mouth for a breath I kiss her throat, her collar, then yank down the front of her shirt, popping out the pierced breast so I can suck it into my mouth. She gasps, and that goes straight to my cock too.
My body is trembling, almost weak as I fight to hold onto my control. She’s so good. She feels so good. “A little more,” I whisper as her mewls get louder and her grip gets tighter. “I really need you to get there.” I’ve never not lasted the length required. I’m going to blow it and she’s going to laugh at the experience with the old man. Fuck that. I am not old. I have better stamina now than I did in my twenties. I drive into her faster, my hips hammering at a speed I didn’t realize I was capable of. “God,” she whispers, clutching me tighter. Her pussy starts pulsing around my swollen dick and I know she’s there.
“Hold tight, angel.” “To what?” She gasps when I slam into her so hard she shoots forward, face-planting the mattress. I laugh, but only for a second as she starts to quiver around my hard dick that’s still firmly inside of her tight little cunt. She’s so wet, making it hard to manipulate her clit in the right way. Though I know I must be doing it right because she’s mewling like a fucking porn star and her entire body is shaking. I pump slowly, circling my hips and then jackhammering into her quickly until I feel her nearing the edge. I’m teasing her but I love it. Her little curses and whimpers and moans are fuel to my already heated fire.
I reach between us for his belt and undo it quickly as he tugs my shorts down to my knees and I manage to wriggle one foot free. He doesn’t wait, the second I palm him with my hand he nudges inside, filling me completely. I sigh happily, never feeling more aroused than when I’m with him. His lips touch mine gently as he slowly glides in and out. Pushing himself to the hilt and withdrawing to the tip so slowly it’s all I can do to stop myself from mounting him and riding him in a way I know he loves.
I squeal, not expecting it at all but then I melt because he presses his palm against my clit as his finger sinks inside. “Sargent.” I hiss his name but I don’t know if it’s because I want him to stop or I need him to continue. Both are tangling together on this web of pure lust, adrenaline, and arousal he’s brought me to. My head lolls back as he fucks me with his hand, kissing my neck before watching my reaction as I come undone by his touch alone. I choke out a cry with my orgasm. His satisfied, smug, aroused grin only powers my climax further. I can’t handle it all. It’s too much.
I hardly get the chance to think or protest when she drops to her knees, pulls me free of my clothing and sucks me into her mouth. “Jees…” I murmur, placing my hand on her head as she goes to fucking town on my cock. Her warm, wet, willing mouth is so soft and perfect. I lean forward and push gently into her mouth. She sucks, licks, grips, and rolls in all of the right places and then she swallows the head of me and I am so glad I came home when I did. I’m so close, my balls are so fucking tight it’s painful. I want to hold out and fuck her right here, but I also want her to swallow me, not just my dick but everything I give her when I come.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Ezra Conti Heroine: Rose Sinclair Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: October 11, 2019 Started On: July 19, 2020 Finished On: July 25, 2020
Becoming His Mistress by A. E. Murphy is one of those books that hits every single spot when it comes to my craving for a wholesome romance reading experience. Ms. Murphy takes on a trope that few authors dare write because it would not be well received in the romance community. Most of us would like to ignore the romances featuring cheating and/or adultery themes – some go as far as to say that books which take on this would be a definite no for them. However, I am someone who loves it when authors push those boundaries and give us books that are realistic and provide for an immersive experience in the process. Becoming His Mistress was definitely all that and more.
When 23 year old Rose Sinclair chooses to work for 37 year old Ezra Conti, it is because she believes that she can make a difference. That she brings that quality which makes her the perfect personal assistant. Ezra who is happily married and has a daughter is known as someone who has eyes only for his wife. Even as women attempt to get him to notice them, he is a man who is promised to his one and only and that is how he lives his life. Rose knows that she would have no such problems when it comes to Ezra because he is not her type, and married men would never be her thing.
Ezra is unconvinced that Rose would be the best fit for him, until she convinces him to give her a chance. Six months later, their arrangement is one that works in every single sense. While Rose starts to see Ezra in a whole new light she knows that nothing would come of it and she has no intention of following whatever nonsensical feelings that she has for him every now and then. Furthermore, Ezra has never behaved in an untoward fashion and she is content to be part of his life as things stand, that is until with one searing kiss from Ezra one night, everything changes and leaves them both at an impasse on how to go from there.
While Rose maybe strong enough to walk away from the first kiss, she is not strong enough to withstand the continued onslaught on her senses from the man that Ezra is. Against her best intentions, she gives in, and thus begins the headiest couple of weeks of her life, until the consequences of their actions comes calling. There are no easy answers to the problems that Ezra and Rosie face, and while Rosie loves Ezra wholeheartedly, she loves herself enough to understand that she should not come second to anyone, not even for the love of her life. There is a lot of heartache and pain that these two go through before the ultimate happily ever after.
I am so glad that I stumbled across this book because this was unlike anythingI have read in recent times. Love is not always found in the most convenient of places. Those who have fallen for and given their hearts to people who were not in a place to return that love or maybe act on it would understand this more than those who have never faced such temptation in life. Love is often found where you least look for it and expect it to be found. That is I guess ultimately the best and worst thing about life. The unexpectedness of love, how your feelings can suddenly change towards someone you may have never considered as a potential lover or life partner; all of these factor in when it comes to Becoming His Mistress.
Falling in love with a married man is not something any woman would want to for themselves. And I believe this would be the same the other way around. No woman (except for polyamorous couples I suppose), likes being the third wheel in a relationship; being the other woman. But it happens, a lot more often than we would like to admit. There are many reasons behind it as well, but this is not the time and place to explore the whys and hows. While cheating may never be condoned, it still speaks of the vulnerability of us as humans. The fragility of our emotions. That inherent need in us to feel, belong, and be desired. None of those have easy explanations. That is partly why perhaps this book spoke to me on so many levels as it did with many readers.
I believe that I enjoyed this novel so much because Ms. Murphy did not try to provide miraculous solutions to the challenges that came Ezra and Rosie’s way. The story was realistic even towards the very end, with frank discussions and even fights that stemmed from emotions that could not be smothered just because one may want to cease feeling a certain way. Ezra’s guilt which arose from having fallen in love with another woman plays a huge role in the story, perhaps one reason why the love between Ezra and Rosie did not feel cheap and frivolous in the end. The fact that Ms. Murphy pulled this off without vilifying anyone, that in itself I think is amazing!
Recommended for open minded readers who love sexy, tender, and endearing romances. Thank you Ms. Murphy, for being bold enough to write this.
Final Verdict: Becoming His Mistress is a one of a kind read; there are no words that can adequately describe the feelings that Ms. Murphy manages to invoke with this phenomenal story as it unfolds.
His gray eyes linger on mine and I jump when he pushes a strand of my black hair behind my ear, a tender touch, so sweet and soft. It leaves a burning trail across my skin. “You could never look stupid.” “I can see every fleck of color in your eyes,” I breathe, leaning closer and trying to count the shards of darker gray that cut through the ring of lighter gray. He holds his breath and nibbles slightly on his lower lip as I stare into his eyes like a weirdo. “What are you doing?” he asks, and I put my finger to his soft lips. He pulls it away and absentmindedly kisses the palm. “Wait… are you counting?” I inhale sharply and immediately stop. “No. Not at all. I don’t count. Who does that?” “You were counting.” “Was not.” “Was too.” “I wasn’t.” I so was.
“I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you back,” I say quietly, and he pushes my hair back. “I’m sorry I kissed you at all,” he replies just as quietly, and I know in my heart he means because of how he upset me and not because he didn’t want to kiss me. The look in his eyes is showing me that he still does. I wonder if the look in mine is begging him to kiss me again. I might not say no this time. “Try to sleep.” I press my forehead to his cheek and close my eyes on his command. He tickles my arm and shoulder as I concentrate on the beating of his heart. It lulls me to sleep, my forbidden lullaby.
“Please don’t, there are only so many times I can say no,” I whisper. “Before what?” His own voice is intensely quiet, his eyes on my mouth. “Before what, Rose?” My breath catches in my throat. “Before I say yes.” He pulls my face to his, meeting me in the middle and our bodies and lips collide. I squeak through my closed mouth, startled by the sudden assault, but he pushes me against the door and devours my mouth. His tongue tastes my own when I gasp, and I can’t pull away. My brain is a mass of the desire he projected on me and my body is pulsing with it.
His hands drag across my curves, scraping around my back and hips, grasping at my flesh and holding me tight so I can’t escape. I’m wet. So damn wet. He groans again, pressing his erection into my navel while still kissing me, claiming me like I never have been before. I’ve never felt so out of control before. When he clicks the lock on the handle of the door all bets are off and I lose all sense of myself. I lose all sense of time and what I came here to say to begin with. I forget his life and mine. I forget my morals and his. All I can think about is having him in a way I’ve been telling myself I don’t want him for far too long.
He looks up at me again, and while kissing me softly and tenderly, he reaches for my hair, unwinding the knot so it spills down my back in a thick wave. I groan when he teases it free and starts to remove my shirt until it’s on the floor by his. I lean back on my hands, feeling thoroughly worshipped when he dives and kisses my ribs, hands looking for the zip of my skirt but losing that battle because of how scrunched it is. I stand and find it at the back, undoing it and letting it fall to my ankles. There’s no going back now. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this. I stand in front of him in lacy white underwear and stockings attached to a garter belt. “Fuck,” he breathes, looking down at me, taking time to explore my flesh with his hands. I’ve never felt sexier and more beautiful than I do right now, seeing it mirrored in his eyes. “Keep your heels on.”
Pulling me to the edge of the desk, he lines himself up with me perfectly as my fingers find my clit and start to roll it in fast circles. “No,” he whispers, pulling my hand away and replacing it with his thumb. “You touch yourself when you’re alone and thinking of me. When you’re with me, it’s my job to touch you and get you off.” Oh my God. He starts to sink inside and groans. I ache from his width, but it feels so good. His thumb rolls my clit, using my own juices to make it slick. He watches himself vanish into my body. I’ve never felt more connected to somebody than I do now.
“Kiss me,” I beg, my voice hoarse and wanting. He obliges, fucking my mouth with his tongue as I battle to stay in control of my body. “Not yet,” I breathe, feeling that familiar burning… except this feels more like a tsunami of crackling lava in my womb. My body feels weightless as he hammers into me, holding my body tight to him now. His thumb is no longer teasing my clit, yet I feel the tingles still, building and spiraling. There’s just something about close sex, having a body against yours as he fills you up perfectly. I throw my head back with a moan so loud he yanks me back to his mouth and kisses me until it passes. It takes forever and my body shudders with each powerful wave of my orgasm.
“We’re not doing anything,” he replies, his tone hushed too. The way his breath fans across my sensitive flesh has me gripping the counter for support. “Nothing at all.” His solid length presses against my ass, trapped by the fabric of his boxers. He tugs them down and I feel his skin against mine. “Nothing,” he grits as I close my legs around it, squeezing it between the apex of my thighs. He starts thrusting, finding grip between my pussy lips. My wetness makes him slide back and forth with ease, so he removes his hand and massages my breasts instead. He hits my clit every time and I almost scream with the ecstasy of it. Why does sex feel this good with him? Why do we connect like this?
“Look at me.” My eyes open slowly and find his in the mirror. His large hands massage my swaying breasts and pinch my nipples. “What are we doing?” he asks me breathlessly, his eyes dangerous, his lips terse. “Nothing,” I reply, crying out when a wave of pleasure hits me. I want to come so hard. He cups my throat and pulls me back against his body. It’s a good thing my balance isn’t terrible, though to be honest he’s doing most of the work, including holding me steady. “Exactly. Nothing.”
“Tits,” he croaks, getting closer to the edge every second. “I want to come on your gorgeous fucking tits.” “You sure? I was totally gonna let you come in my mouth.” His eyes fly down to mine, wide and full of longing. I don’t get a chance to take a breath before he’s pushing past my lips again and coming on my tongue with an animalistic growl. I take him all, every ounce of him, salty, sweet, different. But that’s just him, he’s different.
I kiss him deep and slow as I raise my hips and guide his cock to my entrance. “To oblivion, hmm?” he asks, smiling until I slowly sink onto him, taking as much of him as I can. His smile vanishes at this point only to be replaced with such an intense look of complete wonder and awe. “Nobody has ever felt like you.” I rock my hips, kissing his neck and biting his ear as his hands explore and rub every inch of my body that he can reach. I don’t take my time because we don’t have time. I fuck him faster than I ever have, feeling it build in my womb. We come, me first and then him, as always. He always waits until I’m done before he lets himself get there. One of the many things I adore about him.
He turns suddenly, sending water crashing over the bath and onto the tiles. His damp lips from the steam of the hot water touch mine and I almost slip under when he hooks a hand around my back and lifts me to give him easier access to my sex. I gasp when he thrusts inside. My hands grip whatever is available to keep me out of the water. He pulls out just as suddenly so I can turn over and I rest my arms on the sloped back of the bath as he powers into me from behind. Every thrust sends more water out of the bath. He becomes feral, losing control in a way he never has before, driving into me like an animal and not like a man.
“I want you forever. I want to fuck you every single day. I want to taste your sweet lips. I want to fill your womb with my seed and create a life tied to both of us.” He thrusts with each statement, grinding his pelvis against my clit, kissing my neck and whispers the words against my skin. “You’re everything I ever want and need.” “I love you,” I breathe. “I want to be the only woman you ever need.” “You are.” “Then fuck me, prove it, mark me.” I bite into his neck and suck so hard I just know there’s going to be a ring of red there when I lift my head. He cries out and pummels me with his hips, fucking me so furiously the door bangs with each thrust.
I cling to him, claw at him, grip him as I kiss him, devouring him until my lips feel sore but then I just press harder. There’s a fire between us that flows through us both, burning for each other as we tear at clothes until there’s nothing separating us but our will. Mine is fighting for the winning team, he holds back until I hop up on the table and part my thighs. When he eases into me, all bets are off and he fucks me as hard as he did in his office that first time. We both moan, groan, hiss, grasp, sigh… It’s incredible as always.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Grayson Price Heroine: River Reed Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: September 14, 2019 Started On: July 16, 2020 Finished On: July 19, 2020
Ava Harrison is a totally new to me author, who I stumbled across in one of the book recommendation lists that I was going through. With Entice promising all those elements that makes up for an emotionally well rounded read, I was quickly hooked, making Ms. Harrison someone I am going to continue reading in the future.
36 year old Grayson Price has unfinished business to take care of when it comes to Tyler Reed, someone whom he considered once to be an older brother. Unable to say no to his sister, Grayson agrees to the meeting and finds himself with more than he bargained for when he comes face to face with Tyler’s daughter, 20 year old River Reed.
From the onset, there is a undeniable spark between the two which makes things precarious for Grayson in a way that he never would have anticipated. While River may want to throw caution to the wind and explore what it is between them, Grayson would like to believe that he is not ruled by the pure male instinct to claim River as his which scares him to no end.
However, even as Grayson tries to distance himself, none of it is to be helped as fate has a way of drawing them together time and yet again. It also does not help matters when River exposes her vulnerabilities to him, the way she responds to him, and makes him yearn for something that he has not thought he ever would consider as part of his future.
With every kiss and searing glance that renders both breathless, these two embark on a secret “affair” that slowly unfolds into something that neither anticipated. With River and Grayson both bringing their own baggage to the mix, it is no lighthearted joining, and it was incredible to witness the changes that they went through as a couple and individuals to reach their happily ever after.
Entice was a very mature, thoughtful, and meaningful read, all in a way that most taboo romances aren’t. There are very few authors who can do topics like this justice without making you cringe or worse. This is essentially what stood out for me when it comes to my first read from Ms. Harrison, and as I mentioned, definitely not going to be my last.
I enjoyed getting to know both Grayson and River, and that significant point in their past giving added meaning to the connection that is forged to life between them. Grayson was definitely all kinds of hot – the panty scorching variety of hot and I could not have asked for a better placed hero than Grayson in every single aspect.
What I loved the most was how the relationship between Grayson and River was fleshed out, the exploration of deepening feelings between two people who carry emotional baggage to last them a lifetime. The emotional depth added that pull factor to the story which had plentiful sex scenes which were tastefully done and sinfully hot!
Recommended for fans of huge age gap romances exploring “taboo” topics. Ava Harrison does this with a flare which makes for stupendous reading!
Final Verdict: Entice delivers to readers a story that captivates you from the start, with Grayson and River claiming a piece of yourself before they are through!
My eyes are still aimed forward, but I’m watching him. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as I caress the skin. I watch him swallow. His chest rising and falling with each pass of my hand. He looks torn, provoked, on the verge of something. Something I’m not sure I can decode. But I do see something I recognize very well. Loneliness. It bursts from him, alive and raw and pulsing like an injured animal. I can smell it. I can almost taste it. We are the same, yet we are nothing alike.
“You think I hate you?” he growls, taking a step toward me. “Yes,” I whisper. He advances, and I step back. “You really think that’s the problem?” “It’s pretty obvious, to be honest. You haven’t been shy with your repulsion toward me.” He moves in until my body is firmly pressed against his, his erection pressing against my stomach. I let out a gasp. “Repulsion, River, huh?” He grinds up against me. “That what it feels like? Or maybe it’s something else? Do you think my anger is something else?” “What else can it be?” “Self-preservation.”
Without a second thought, he crushes his lips to mine. It feels like a series of fireworks explode inside me at the feel of his mouth. We are all teeth and tongue. The kiss is desperate, and then he pushes off my lips. “Why do you do this to me?” he rasps. “Why do you torture me?” I wonder if he will stop it now, if he will go back to pushing me away, but instead, I feel his fingers on my thighs, and his mouth touches mine again. Each new swipe of his tongue makes me moan into his mouth and then when I feel his fingers teasing the hem of my dress, I swear I might die.
Then I feel him, pressing himself against my heat, probing my entrance. “I need to fuck you now,” he says through gritted teeth. He readjusts his hands to cup my ass as he begins to stroke me. “Tell me to fuck you, River. Tell me you want me inside you. I need to hear you say it.” The soft nudge is enough to make my inner walls quiver. “Dammit, River, say it. Tell me to fuck you.” He pushes forward, just the tip, torturing me. I can’t resist. I want this. I’ve wanted him for so long that, like him, I can’t wait another minute. I want him to fuck me and make me forget everything else. “Fuck me. Now!” With one sudden thrust, he’s fully seated. I moan at the sudden invasion. It feels so good.
My eyes roam over her body as I make the descent and then part her legs. I angle my body between them and kiss all the way up from her ankles until I meet the inside of her thighs. I lick her. Suck her. Desperate moans escape her mouth. She purrs beneath me, begging me with her movement to pick up my pace, and so I do. I answer her cries and start to flick and then suck in a maddening pace that has her gripping my hair and falling over the edge.
“River, you know that’s not it. You see how they hound Jax. Hell, even you got photographed with him.” “You knew about that?” I whisper. “Of course I did. Wasn’t that the goal?” He’s trying hard not to sneer. I look down and then back up. “I didn’t think you cared at the time.” He steps into me, and my back hits the distressed and aged brick of the building. He lifts his arm to box me in. “You think I didn’t care?” “Yeah.” “I cared,” he grits out. “Why?” “Why? Because you’re mine, not his. Since I first saw you in Malaga, I wanted you, and seeing that my younger brother, someone probably better suited for you, could be with you, drove me insane.”
I stand from my desk and make my way to the other side. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I wait. She’s wearing a cotton dress. Slowly, she drops the strap off her shoulder, and once they are both dropped, the dress pools on the floor beneath her. Now she stands in front of me in her ballet flats, a bra, and lace underwear. “What did you buy?” I hiss. My heart beats rapidly in my chest. She turns around and then bends down, and I get a perfect view of her ass. Almost bare except for her thong. She lifts something. It looks like a scrap of material, and that’s when I look at the label on the bag. Agent Provocateur. Fuck.
“Get on the desk,” I grit. She follows orders well, moving quickly to sit on the edge of the desk. “Lean back.” She does. “Show me.” Slowly, but as ordered, she spreads her legs. My lips tip up, and I make my way, more like stalk, over to her. “I don’t have time to taste you,” I say as I unzip my pants. I don’t bother taking them off or removing my jacket. Instead, I just pull my cock out. “I’m going to fuck you. And you aren’t going to make a peep. Do you understand?” She nods. “Good girl.”
Our eyes lock. And then and only then does he slowly push inside me. It feels too good; as though I’m complete once he’s fully engulfed in my heat. His hands reach to cups my face, and as he starts to thrust, he peers into my eyes. He moves inside me, never breaking our stare. Over and over again. Deeper and deeper. But he never pulls his gaze away. Not once. Not as I cling to him. Not as I scream my release. Not as he reaches his own climax. He never looks away.
“You won’t find anything,” he says. “And do you know why?” I shake my head. “Because there is nothing to find. Want to take a guess at the reason?” Again, I shake my head, this time dropping my head. He doesn’t let me, though. Instead, he cups my jaw and makes me look at him. “Because all I want is you. All I see is you. I’m obsessed with you.” His words are rough, abrasive. He hates himself for it. I can tell by the way he grabs me roughly and throws me down on his bed. Then he’s on me, pouncing and kissing me, telling me with his mouth, with his tongue, and with his teeth just how much he hates that he wants me.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Erotic Romance Series: Deeper than Desire, #2 Publisher: Ellora’s Cave Hero: Tyler Vandervoort Heroine: Evie Bennett Sensuality: 3.5 Date of Publication: March 09, 2012 Started On: June 06, 2020 Finished On: July 06, 2020
Nineteen year old Evie Bennett comes from a strict household that translates into the kind of nightmare that a lot of kids often live through. Evie has no freedom to be who she wants to be, explore what it means to be a young adult, and make choices about her life and future as anyone at that age would want to. Life is tough, but Evie knows no other way, that is until fate comes calling.
When Evie meets Tyler Vandervoort, her whole world changes from the onset. With Tyler, the very opposite of everything that she is, Evie finds the freedom to explore her own sensuality and give free rein to the deep seated desire that he rouses in her. With every kiss that leads to unbelievably hot make-out sessions (which should be illegal because the buildup is too much to handle at times, I kid not!), Evie finds herself drawn to Tyler in a way that makes it hard to walk away from.
In the end, choices have to be made, one might say hard choices, but when it comes right down to it, I would say that it was a choice that needed to be made under the circumstances. Tyler might be the boy from the wrong side of town in the way he presents himself, but as the story continues and reaches its climax, Evie starts to realise that there is more to Tyler than meets the eye, and that they may have more in common than she initially thought.
As is the case with every Charlotte Stein story, there is not much else going apart from the sexual tension and culmination of all that desire that is between the main protagonists. Perhaps one of the reasons why this story was a bit thin in terms of characterisation and depth, which seemed to lack more so than the previous two books that I have read and loved from Ms. Stein.
But as always, Ms. Stein is able to draw you in and keep you riveted to what is unfolding in a way that few authors manage to do, especially when it comes to creating sexual tension of the kind that is all encompassing.
Recommended for fans of Ms. Stein’s work. There is a charm to her prose that is nothing short of mesmerising.
Final Verdict: Sheltered brings to readers the story of two protagonists who may seems worlds apart, but in each other finds a calling and solace that proves to be their undoing.
He tasted like cinnamon, again, and every now and then he’d pull away, just a little—just enough to make her want to drag him back. Before giving her a teasing lick with that perfect, curling tongue of his. It set all the nerve endings in her upper lip on fire. She had to stop herself from reaching up and rubbing something like normal feeling back into the area, before the urge to writhe against him grew too strong.
“Evie, stop,” he said between kisses. She should have been relieved. She should have, but really all she could feel was the heavy and constant ache between her legs. How warm it made her feel, how daring. And of course it only got worse when he said, “God, baby, you’re so greedy.” It didn’t even humiliate her. Somehow he made it sound like the sweetest, sexiest compliment, and when she pushed a hand through his hair and tried to get him to kiss her again, his lips parted. A ripple seemed to go through his body, as though it affected him as strongly as it affected her.
He lifted his shirt again—farther this time. If he’d been facing her she would have been able to see his chest hair, but as it was she had to make do with acres and acres of honey-colored skin. All of it so soft seeming she could hardly control herself. Would he mind, if she just leaned down and kissed the almost apparent ridges of his spine? She suspected he would, but after a moment of staring and staring at the little black knot he’d had inked in the middle of his back, she stopped trying to control herself altogether. She kissed him there, open-mouthed and wet. Tasted his warm skin, then licked when he tried to sort of shift away.
The longer she went at this, the looser and more relaxed about it he appeared to become. He even turned his head after a little while and found her mouth with his, kissing in a way that forced a fresh flood of slickness to soak through her already embarrassingly wet panties. He did it with a lot of tongue. And he kind of moaned at the same time, though the moans didn’t stop at her mouth. They vibrated down, down through her body to her oh-so-sensitive nipples and her swollen sex, searching out that little bud that she never on pain of death touched.
“I want you to look at me,” he said, which seemed like the most unbearable thing of all. She had to rub through all of this mortifying mess, while he watched her and she watched him? She couldn’t. She couldn’t. “I can’t.” “You can. Here. Here. Like this,” he said, then covered her hand with his and urged it over her slick mound. Of course, the effect was immediate. That little bud swelled beneath her fingertips, pleasure jerking upward from it too quickly. Her toes curled, her back arched, she tried to tell him no again. But he just pushed her hand down harder, until she couldn’t stop herself from circling that stiff shape. Just a little—no one would have to know. Except for Van, of course, who seemed to be breathing far, far too hard.
Words actually wanted to come out this time, but she didn’t have the breath to lend them. Everything had seized up inside her, so tightly that for a second she panicked. This wasn’t like the orgasms she’d had prior. The orgasms prior hadn’t hurt the way this one was doing, and they hadn’t made her stop breathing, and oh God, what if a person could die of coming? She was sure she’d heard that on the news, one time. Sure. But no matter how tense and out of control her body got—by this point, she’d practically started rutting against his mouth—he didn’t let up.
She hadn’t the first clue about how to do this thing. He’d had tricks, and ways of going about it, and the magical ability to transport her into transcendental ecstasy. She had some vague idea about maybe sucking him a bit. The two didn’t match up. He was going to laugh at her efforts, even though he didn’t seem to be laughing now. He didn’t even crack a smile when she looked up at him—he just stared down at her with that tortured, overheated gaze. Mouth a mean line. Shoulders hunched, body still shaking. And then he told her all the things she most needed to hear. “Just suck me,” he said. “God, just put your mouth on me.”
She didn’t know how such a thing was possible, but it happened, even so. And all the way through, she hung on fiercely, most of her moans more like grunts. Thighs squeezing too tightly around his body. Hands grasping at parts of him she probably shouldn’t have been grasping. And best of all—she felt herself clench down hard, on his still-working cock. “Oh Jesus, Evie,” he panted, almost automatically. Swiftly followed by a tightening of his grip on her back, her ass. His face pressing against the side of hers, as he moaned all hot and wet right into her skin.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Paranormal Romance Series: Phenomenal Fate, #1 Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Jonas Cantrell Heroine: Ginny Lynn Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: March 17, 2020 Started On: June 20, 2020 Finished On: June 21, 2020
Reborn Yesterday is Ms. Bailey trying her hand at a new sub-genre in romance. I have to say that Ms. Bailey takes to this change exceptionally well, crafting characters that are to die-for and bringing to the forefront a love that knows not the bounds of time nor reason. The debut book in the Phenomenal Fate series, Reborn Yesterday is beguiling in the way it is told, with Ms. Bailey’s talent in delivering panty-drenching sex scenes enmeshed deeply within the story that unfolds.
25 year old Ginny Lynn is the funeral home director at P. Lynn Funeral Home in Coney Island. It is through her job that she “meets” Jonas Cantrell; the extraordinarily handsome deceased man ending up on her embalming table. When Jonas “wakes up”, it is to find himself at the receiving end of a joke that his friends play on him every birthday, with this year’s prank changing the course of his life in a way that he never saw coming.
Humans are not supposed to know of the existence of the likes of Jonas, vampires who hug the shadows of the night close to them. For the most part, Jonas has never had trouble walking away from a human, wiping their memories of him when it comes to that crucial moment. However, with Ginny, none it works the way he plans it, and before he knows it, Ginny is in his life; his to love, his to protect, his to call mate for life.
Romance readers who have ventured into the urban-fantasy genre or read paranormal romances must have gone through their fair share of worlds built around vampires, ghouls, angels, and whatnot. Ms. Bailey’s take on the vampire world carries itself differently, though the basics of vampirism itself remains the more or less the same. I found myself totally enchanted and intrigued, and I loved every single second of being part of the journey that was Jonas and Ginny’s towards their happily ever after.
I loved Jonas – no questions about it. I fell head over heels in love with both protagonists early on in the story and there was no looking back for me. Jonas has a savagery to him that is tamped down, and yet at the same time, there is nothing he would not do, no stone that he would leave unturned, if harm were to befall his one and only.
At the same time, Ginny, who is thrust into a world she is clueless about, having never led a life of excitement up till that point, finds herself drawn to the danger and thrill of it all, her fate being entwined with that of Jonas from the beginning. If I had to use one word to describe this book I would choose the word exquisite; Reborn Yesterday had everything going for it in all the ways it matters.
Recommended for fans of Tessa Bailey, fans of vampire romances, and fans of romances in general. This was beautifully delivered from start to finish.
Final Verdict: There is a tender savagery to Reborn Yesterday that is in direct contrast with and yet meshes well with what Ms. Bailey delivers in the new sub-genre of romance she has taken to writing like a fish to water. Keep em’ coming Ms. Bailey!
Their tongues greeted each other like star-crossed lovers, demanding and bereft over their separation. Ginny’s eyes flew open to find the same wonder blazing in Jonas’s, before his lids drooped along with hers, the kiss taking over, sensations making demands and hunger sinking in its claws. At the next slide of their tongues, Ginny’s knees drew up involuntarily and Jonas rolled forward with a growl, locking their lower bodies together. Pressing. Straining. The vast difference in their strength was obvious. As it was also obvious that he tried valiantly to hold his in check, his body shaking with the effort. Unfortunately, Ginny’s body couldn’t seem to stop tempting that inhuman strength. Her inner thighs rode up and down his hips and thighs, sobs catching in her throat, releasing into his hot, seeking mouth. Lord, his mouth. It was at once skilled and frantic, like he knew damn well what he was about, but couldn’t keep up with the onslaught of lust. Yes. God, this was lust.
Their hands wrestled above her head, only to be pinned by Jonas. His hips rocked, the hard ridge of his sex riding to the start of her feminine flesh—and pressing down. Right there. Even through the material of her dress, she caught enough friction to cry out—and the threadbare sound did something to Jonas. He leaned harder into the kiss, befuddling her senses with long, sensual slants of hard lips over soft, animal groans kindling in his strong chest, his fingers locked so tightly with Ginny’s above her head, she knew his willpower waned. Good. More. Good. Never stop.
With a growl of pure hunger, Jonas lowered his head and licked the trickle of blood from her neck, bringing it into his mouth and swallowing the way someone might with a fine wine. Almost immediately, his body fell forward on top of her. He caught himself with shaking arms right before he could crush her. A throttled rendition of her name left him. What was that sound? There was a muted throbbing between them and at first she thought it came from her own rollicking heartbeat, but no…no, it came from Jonas. He balanced on one hand, tearing at the left side of his chest with the other. Was his heart beating? “Mate,” he gasped, fangs elongating another fraction of an inch. “Mate.”
He leaned down and licked the side of her neck, long and slow. “Mine,” he breathed, planting a hot, open-mouthed kiss over her pulse. “Inevitably, undeniably mine. May God help us all.” Ginny braced herself for pain—and she got it. The shocking sting made her body jolt and twist, but a flood of numbing warmth ensued so quickly afterward, she stilled. As if on command. Stilled and felt the sharp fangs sinking into her. Heard Jonas’s muffled exclamation against her skin, followed by an exultant groan. She’d been caught. Possessed.
A volcano of bliss erupted inside of her, trapping a gasp in her throat. His words stabbed at her composure like little daggers and she bore down, prolonging the rush of relief by grinding up and back on his thickness. “Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord,” she whimpered, raking her nails down his back. “It feels so good.” “Remember that feeling,” he said, pressing his bared teeth to her cheek. “You only get it from your mate. Ever.”
He wore jeans. Dark ones, much nicer than the pair he’d donned the night they met. Along with boots, a white shirt and an overcoat of soft, chocolate brown. Flowers. There were flowers in his hand. For her. “Ginny,” he breathed, stopping in front of her. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She nodded. Or shook her head. Hard to be sure. He handed her the flowers, then cupped her face in his hands, brushing her cheekbones with adoring sweeps of his thumbs. Their lips met and they both shuddered, the cellophane crinkling beneath her grasping fingers. Ginny didn’t have to look around the room to know they were the center of attention and she couldn’t have cared less anyway. She only saw Jonas.
His muscles bunched on a rasp of her name, his fangs slicing out. “Need.” Knowing exactly what he meant, she relinquished her right hand’s grip on the bedclothes, sank it into his hair and instinctively drew him to her thigh. “Yours. It’s yours. I’m yours.” With an expression rife with possession and unholy thirst, Jonas pressed a second finger into her body and bit down hard on her inner thigh, groaning brokenly at the taste of her. Ginny whipped headlong into an orgasm. It was all the more brutal and beautiful for its unexpectedness.
He stroked into her deep, the new angle allowed that slick, thick part of him unfettered access to that spot—and she couldn’t move her hips to meet him or grind up, she simply had to take it. There was a loud sound coming from a distant land and it took her several guesses before she realized it was the entire bed rebounding off the wall. The wildness of it was her undoing. Or maybe it was watching Jonas sink his fangs into the small of her wrist, followed by the further swelling and jerking of his flesh inside her. Knowing he was close to finding unimaginable pleasure after a lifetime of going without. His body stiffened at the same time as hers, his mouth released her wrist and fingers clutched at skin eagerly, pulling one another’s bodies closer any way they could.
Her thighs wrapped around his hips automatically, her toes digging into his taut backside. No choice but to cling, squeeze him between her legs. Her core was so sensitive, so exposed. “Jonas, Jonas, Jonas.” “You don’t want to make love, Ginny.” His teeth raked over her nipple, tonguing the sting while he made blistering eye contact. “You want to fuck, don’t you?”
“I’m incapable of denying you anything. Anything.” He reached down and fisted his thickness, notching the smooth head inside of her—and ramming himself home to the tune of Ginny’s strangled cry. For a moment, Jonas said nothing, his mouth open against her ear. Then, “You’re even tighter when you’re pissed.” A tickle roared downward in her belly, her thighs jerking violently as the orgasm whipping through her. “Oh my God.” She squirmed, desperate for an anchor, a branch to grab onto while being shot down the raging rapids. “Oh my God.”
He slammed his mouth down on top of hers, kissing her with the passionate brutality she was starving for, the door rebounding hard off the frame behind her. Bambambambambam.“I’m sorry, my love,” he said hoarsely. “My fucking life.” Ginny pitched over the edge so fast and so hard, her climax was almost painful. Her thighs shook around Jonas’s hips, her body arching off the door, her scream echoing off the bathroom walls. He pressed his forehead to hers, looking her in the eye as he followed her off the cliff, hips jerking wildly, Ginny on his lips. Behind him, the bathroom bulbs shot sparks and went out, leaving them in the barest light where it crept in from beneath the door.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Erotic Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Mischief Hero: Lukas Halstrom Heroine: Esther Hayridge Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: September 24, 2015 Started On: May 26, 2020 Finished On: May 27, 2020
The Professor by Charlotte Stein is probably one of the sexiest novels I have read in the entirety of my reading life. I don’t say that lightly. Being the lover of good smut that is delivered right, I am quite particular about what I like. But, there is an edge to Ms. Stein’s writing that is evocative in a way that is indescribable. Unless one has experienced the range of emotions that Ms. Stein makes you feel with the turn of every page, I do not think a mere review can do justice to the magic that happens when Ms. Stein puts pen to paper.
Taking on one of my favorite tropes, i.e. the professor hero versus the student heroine, which brings its own forbidden variety of deliciousness to the story, The Professor features 31 year old Lukas Halstrom and 22 year old Esther Hayridge.
Esther is not a student of the brilliant variety. She barely scrapes by and most would just term her as average, that is until she mistakenly submits what she wrote for her own eyes; an erotic fantasy of her own which she mistakenly submits as an assignment for Professor Halstrom’s class. Bracing herself for the humiliation that would most definitely follow, none is more surprised than Esther when Lukas instead offers to tutor her in private, to hone her writing skills.
One may think that Lukas has intentions of the carnal variety from the onset. Perhaps to an extent, his baser instincts were roused by what Esther submits as an assignment requirement, but he is exemplary in his behavior and attitude towards her from the get go. It is only the content which they discuss that is thought provoking which borders on indecency, especially when it comes to Esther’s reaction to the discussions.
One thing leads to another, and before they both know it, they have crossed a line, the consequence of which comes in the form of Lukas upping and leaving the university altogether. It is only then the story truly begins, with the bout of heartache that follows, and the hope that comes in the form of a sealed letter that bares open the very heart of the formidable Professor.
Ms. Stein does a remarkable job in peeling back the layers of Lukas’ character through the eyes of Esther. I have yet to come across a hero in control and command of his needs and emotions as Lukas, and believe you me, I felt exhausted at points in time from how he holds himself back. But one cannot complain too much given how Lukas manages to leave not only Esther a hot mess when all is said and done.
However, at a certain point, I felt that the control he exerted was a bit too much, even when I understood that what Lukas wanted with Esther wasn’t the usual tawdry affair that he tends to have with the fairer sex. It is his way of showing that Esther matters to him in a way that no woman has before, and that he does not want physical aspects of their relationship to affect what could possibly bloom to life between them.
In the end, the fact that it was Lukas who came back for her perhaps made all of that worthwhile, especially after the roller coaster of emotions that the last couple of chapters puts the reader through. In my opinion, even though Lukas resists the effect Esther has on him at every turn, they are two halves of one soul who found their way to one another. There is no stopping what springs to life between them, to the point where neither time nor distance seemed to matter in the long run.
Recommended for fans of Charlotte Stein and fans of erotic romance that makes you feel in spades. I would recommend turning on the fan at full speed before you turn that first page and get lost in the midst of the red hot tide of desire between the two!
Final Verdict: Emotion that is tightly wound with exquisitely delivered smut makes The Professor hard to put down. It is no mean feat to strike the right balance between the two and Ms. Stein proves her worth with every word in the book!
I say it as it is: my cunt, my clit, my slick little slit. I work them all until my thighs tremble and my head goes back and I know, I know I’m going to come. I’m going to do it all over my hand right here, while imaginary people stand and watch. Those cool, bright, amazing people that surround me every day, bored to tears by everything I am, suddenly open-mouthed and horrified and just dying to ask what drove me to it. And when they do, I think, as my orgasm crests… When they do I will tell them truly: Because my Professor talks dirty to me.
My mouth is crushed against his, but it isn’t him doing the crushing. It’s me, pressing and pressing as if I could somehow get beneath his skin if I only did it hard enough. At the very least I could burn the memory of this into me. I want to always know every inch of it, from the warm whiskey taste of him to the sense of being so completely surrounded by someone. The insides of his arms, the push of his chest, his great height curling over me…all of it, I need all of it. But only when he finally pulls away do I get why it was so important. I feel how he wrenches himself from me, and see his horrified expression, and I utterly understand what made me so desperate to feel all of this to the utmost. He is never, ever going to do it again.
[Letter from Hetty to Lukas] I think yes; I think underneath the layers of tweed you are as louche and debauched as a lord from some story about swooning on a moor. That if you were given the chance you would indulge appetites even I can barely guess at – though God knows I try. My thoughts seethe with all the things you might possibly like to do. Would you like to kiss my cunt? Or is it more than that? Filthier than that? Are you debased, my Lukas, in ways I am far too innocent to ever imagine? Would you get me on my knees and fill my mouth with your cock and your come? Or perhaps your proclivities run a different way. Maybe you lie in bed at night with your hand around a dick I cream at the thought of, and think of fucking my arse. Oh, God, I get close to coming, just thinking of you doing something like that. Something reckless, and greedy. Be greedy for me. Hold nothing back. If we must live like this then hold nothing back.
And it gets worse when his mouth moves back to mine. This time his kisses are deep, and wet, and hot. His tongue eases in and out of my mouth, in a way I could never mistake. He wants me to think of his cock doing that exact same thing. He wants to show me how he would take me – so slow and easy, until my whole body is boneless. Until I come all over him, shuddering and gasping and oh, God, God, God, the thought alone is almost enough to make me do it. At the very least I know I’m moaning, and possibly shaking.
He eases those fingers through my insanely slick folds, and his lips actually part. A sound comes out of him – one that might be a sigh but could be a moan. It definitely feels like a moan. My clit jumps at the sound of it, and I know I make an even bigger mess of myself down there. I know I do, because he rubs through it. He eases it over my plump lips and around and around my eager hole, almost slipping inside but not quite, oh, not quite. Though it hardly matters. How could it, when he follows that with a stroke around my clit? No teasing, no preamble, no watching me squirm like a fish on a hook. He just starts rubbing me there, fast and firm and so sure it stops my breath.
The hand he spreads over my back is much too firm and far too eager – as are the fingers that start tugging my knickers down my legs. He almost snaps the elastic several times, and above that sound is another, deeper, sweeter one. His harsh, desperate breathing. Like he can hardly contain the urge to take his pleasure. He can’t wait to fuck me, I think, and come close to groaning in arousal and disbelief. My pussy is creaming over the very idea, every inch of it so ready for that cock of his. I can feel it clenching just at the thought. The moment he slides in I’m going to do it all over him – and that much is true. I do come almost the second I feel him against me, hard and long and oh so juicily. But it’s his face that he puts between my legs.
He grasps my hips and holds me there, while he works me over again. And when I say works me over, I mean works me over. He does it like the night before, insistent and firm and nearly forcing me towards orgasm. No teasing – quite clearly he thinks I’ve had enough of that. No, no, he just rubs the flat of his tongue right over my over-sensitised clit, until I’m almost screaming with the sensation. It’s far too thick and far too hot, like a kind of branding. I want to pull away, but he won’t let me. His grip is so firm I can scarcely move. I can’t even close my legs, because his knee is between them. And then, oh, then he starts flicking at my swollen bud with the tip of his tongue. Right on the underside, right where it’s sweetest, so quick and firm I can only go limp against the window.
‘I don’t have heavy-lidded eyes the colour of an ocean at the end of the world. Or a brow so expressive it could probably take to the London stage. Or a cleft in my chin that looks like someone kissed you there too long and left a little imprint,’ I say, and immediately want to take it back. I can see him straightening in his chair, and I know, I know, I know he’s going to go hard. I just don’t realise how hard. ‘Yes, but you do regularly look at me with that gaze as black and bright as midnight and make me want to throw away every bit of restraint I spent my life carefully cultivating. There are no lips I have longed more to kiss; no hair so wild and dark that I see it in my dreams. Whatever you might say about how I look, you are lovelier. I see worlds in your face, and spend nearly all of my time desperately wanting to go to them.’
‘When I see myself together with you, when I allow myself to fully picture it, the things I see are not typically sexual in nature. More commonly I am accosted by an image of us walking together – we are always walking together, and perhaps it is raining. Perhaps we stop beneath the awning of a shop that sells beautiful cakes, and you turn your lovely face up to mine, and look at me with the same eyes I see gazing at me now. They are full of mischief and tenderness together, as though I mean something as wonderful to you as you do to me. And then you take my hand, in a way no other person has. And I let you, in a way I have never let anyone before. And for the first time in my long and very tiring life, I know that I am at peace.’
I feel the slipperiness sliding over one sensitive nipple, and taste it sharp and tangy on my tongue, and everything just starts to go. I even tell him so. ‘Oh, God, I’m coming,’ I say. I’m coming. And maybe it’s me moaning that aloud. Maybe it’s the sight of me, striped with his come and still on my knees. But either way, he has one final treat just for me. He waits, it seems, until I’m shuddering with pleasure. Waits until I’m calling his name. And then he hauls me to my feet with one hand and kisses me. He kisses my come-covered mouth, as I lose myself in this bliss.
His prick is leaking copiously, all down the shaft and over my hands, and it gets messier the more I go at him. The greedier I get the clearer the response, until finally I think he might be bucking into my grip. He’s definitely making noise, because he does it right in my ear. He moans that I should go faster, that I should unbutton my top, that he wants to see me as I stroke him. And just when I think he couldn’t get any filthier: ‘I want to come in your mouth again.’
He slides in as smooth as every other fuck I ever had wasn’t, opening me up in a way I can scarcely believe. It steals my breath. It makes me moan, loud and long and so full of abandonment. I don’t care that anyone can hear – but then, neither does he. ‘Good Lord, you feel sweet,’ he says, loud enough that I actually feel it deep down in my bones. I shudder at the sound of it, cunt tightening hard around the intrusion. So hard, in fact, that he struggles to move. He makes a sound like someone clicking their fingers, as soon as he attempts it. Then again, when he manages one stuttering stroke. He can hardly blame me for it, however. He’s the one with the gloriously, incredibly, amazingly thick cock.
People say ‘make love’. But they don’t really mean it. It’s just a pretty bow to dress up a base thing, and make it palatable to people who wouldn’t find it so otherwise. Yet I believe it here. I feel it breaking through me – the sense that I am being made, somehow. That I am being loved. And I keep feeling it all the way to the very end, when he gasps my name against the side of my face. Our bodies so close together I should feel swamped, though I don’t. All I want to do is hang on tight, as my orgasm stutters into life.
He groans so close to my ear I feel it vibrate all the way down me. It has this sort of chain effect on my body – starting with my too tight nipples then on down to my tensing belly and then finally, oh, finally I feel it in my clit. It circles me there like his fingers, like his tongue, until I can sense it starting to shudder through me. My pussy clenches around his cock, so fiercely I fear I might be hurting him. But if I do, it is the delicious sort of pain. The sort that makes him twist on top of me, teeth bared and eyes dark with pleasure, every inch of his body going into a desperate attempt at really fucking me. He wants to do it hard, I can tell. He wants to hammer into me until my teeth rattle. Only the more he succeeds the tighter my cunt tightens around him, until all we can both manage is a sort of desperate push-pull.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Fostering Love, #1 Publisher: Forever Hero: Shane Anderson Heroine: Katherine Evans Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: June 07, 2016 Started On: May 21, 2020 Finished On: May 21, 2020
Unbreak My Heart by Nicole Jacquelyn is the debut book in her Fostering Love series. While Ms. Jacquelyn is a totally new to me author, the blurb which hinted at unrequited love, a widowed hero, and a ton of angst was what sold me and I didn’t look back. I needed a story that was spectacular enough to “wean” me off the continuous high I had experienced while reading one Susan Napier book after the other throughout April and May. Unbreak My Heart turned out to be just perfect for the cause.
Unbreak My Heart brings together the two main protagonists, Shane Anderson and Katherine Evans (Kate), who are both 29 years old. While Kate and Shane had been best of friends from a certain point of their childhood on wards, the minute Shane had set eyes on Kate’s closest friend Rachel, Kate had ceased to exist for him. Ignoring the hurt in Kate’s eyes had been his modus operandi, and it had helped that being enlisted in the military, Shane was hardly ever around afterwards.
Kate’s life had pretty much revolved around that of Rachel’s and her family when Shane was not around. With Shane away for long periods of time, Kate spends most of her time helping Rachel bring up their four kids, up till the point where tragedy comes calling and changes everything. With Rachel gone, a year on, the hurt is still raw for Shane and on the eve of Rachel’s death anniversary, their vulnerability leads to sex of the most spectacular kind, which ends with Kate becoming pregnant.
Shane’s fractious relationship with Kate does not undergo a magical transformation when he receives the unwelcome news of Kate’s pregnancy. If anything, his feelings related to Kate becomes more chaotic than ever, the draw he feels towards her something which he resists at every single turn. There are moments in which Shane gives in, is tender and loving, and yet what is more devastating is what follows soon after; the constant need in Shane to blame Kate and assume the worst when it comes to her.
Through a sequence of events that was heartbreaking and heart warming at the same time, (I seriously do not know how Ms. Jacquelyn managed to do that) she delivers a tale that is nothing short of mesmerizing. I could not put the book down unless it was for the basic necessities, because it had been that long since I had come across a novel that features a hero like Shane – who at best would be deemed irredeemable by many readers. But Shane is the kind of hero that I love the best, perhaps because I am a glutton for punishment.
Needless to say, I loved Unbreak My Heart to bits and then some. I found Kate to be amazing. The love that she feels for Shane is an all encompassing and enduring one at that. There is a profound statement in the story that jumped right at me – that love can overlook many things, and I believe that to be true. When we talk about accepting people for who they are, shortcomings and all, because lets face it, none of us are perfect at the end of the day, love is in reality all about overlooking those bits and pieces and seeing the bigger picture.
Kate might be seen to be a doormat heroine by some, because she puts up with a lot of shit from Shane at first. But given the shared past between them, during which Shane and Kate had seldom spent time together from the point where he had decided to ignore her in the pursuit of Rachel, the trouble starts brewing when they are forced to endure each other’s company. Kate’s feelings had never wavered when it comes to Shane, but for Shane, discovering Kate along those lines and the way he falls so hard for her amidst all that reluctance on his part was something worth all that heartache and pain.
There were times I felt like dousing Shane with a bucket of cold water for good measure, just so that he could see reality for what it was. I also loved the strong cast of secondary characters that lent an extra richness to the developing story and made it more wholesome with their presence, which also ended up being the reason behind Shane finally being able to get his head out of his ass and really see things from a different perspective.
One would wonder how Kate was able to forgive everything when all was said and done. I guess the simple and complicated answer to that would be love, in its purest of forms. Kate is just pure in heart in a way that a lot of us may not be able to understand. No matter what she goes through, there is no malice nor hatred in her heart, which is a rare thing indeed.
When one comes to understand Shane and baggage he carries from his experience through the foster care system, it is easier to see where he is coming from. It is evident that Shane is scared shitless of the way Kate makes him feel which is evident as the story reaches its climax. One can see why it is so, because Kate is not someone who deserves love of the half-assed variety; she deserves it all.
I know that Unbreak My Heart would not be everyone’s cup of tea. But if you are anything like me and love irredeemable heroes paired with heroines who make them fall and fall hard, this is for you. If you want a romance that is politically correct, with rainbows and sunshine, with a unicorn or two thrown in for good measure, then it is safe to say that this is not the book for you.
Recommended for those who love emotional and angst-ridden reads that makes you feel all the feels! Unbreak My Heart does that in spades! Thank you Ms. Jacquelyn, for writing Shane’s character as he was.
Final Verdict: Unbreak My Heart delivers the reality of the pain that stems from unrequited love and the courage it takes to love in the truest and purest sense. I wouldn’t change a word in this book for the world!
“When you cry, your lips swell up,” he whispered, making my eyes finally pop open in surprise. He was so much closer than I’d realized that my breath caught in my throat as he stared at my lips. Then his mouth was on mine. “Pushing, always fucking pushing,” he mumbled against my mouth before sucking my bottom lip between his and biting down hard enough to make me whimper. He tugged at my lip with his teeth, and I felt my body heat in response. “What are you doing?” I asked as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck if I know.”
“Harder,” he ordered, groaning as he grabbed the back of my head and pressed my mouth to his throat. “Do it hard.” I followed his instructions, biting and sucking on his neck like it was my job, and his hands shook as one held me against him and the other slid down the side of my throat and ripped the strap of my bra and cami down my shoulder. He tasted salty, and the stubble under his chin rasped across my tongue. “Jesus,” Shane groaned as he leaned back on his knees and gazed at my breast that had popped free. “Your nipples are pierced.”
“So bare and slick,” Shane whispered darkly, bending over my body until his chest rested against my back. “And what is this?” His fingers found my hood piercing, and I froze as I waited to see what he’d do. I felt one finger playing softly with the piercing as my breath grew ragged, and I was so focused on that sensation that I didn’t feel him positioning behind me until he was thrusting inside. I think I may have screamed as he came to a stop halfway inside, but my ears were ringing so loudly that I wasn’t sure. Not that I would have cared either way.
Her breathing was little off, kind of heavy and shuddery at the same time, and the feel of it on my shoulder was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Is that all you—” Kate started to ask. My mouth was on hers before the last word was spoken, and I made an embarrassing desperate noise when her lips parted and she let me inside. She tasted like ginger, probably from the cookies she had brought with her that morning, and for some reason it ratcheted up my desire until I was practically shaking.
“Shit,” she moaned, bending her knees so she could press down on my fingers inside her. “It’s not enough.” “It’s enough.” “No, I’m so close. God. It’s not—” I bit down on her nipple then, careful of how sensitive she seemed to be, and she came, gasping and shuddering as my hand between her legs became drenched in her. I pulled my hand from her slowly, running my fingers over everything I could reach, then lifted it and put those two fingers in my mouth. She tasted different than I remembered. Maybe even better.
“Your body is insane, Kate,” he told me as he rolled over until he was leaning over me. “I look at you, and I don’t see the fucking ratty clothes you wear. I see the way your breasts bounce when I pull on your nipples. I see the way you clench your jaw when you come, and the way your red lips get swollen from sucking my dick.” My mouth dropped open, and I looked at him in shock. “You were my wife’s best friend. My dead wife. Do you get that? I look at you and I don’t see Katie who drove me nuts when we were kids, or Katie who was Rachel’s best friend. I see Kate, the woman who can take me hard then fucking begs for more. That’s not okay. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he breathed, lifting both of my legs until they were bent and pressing against his chest and he was hitting my G-spot again. “There you go.” “Please,” I begged hoarsely. “Harder?” He pulled back and thrust in desperately as he kissed me hard. “Yes. Yes. Like that.” “Jesus Christ, you’re sexy,” he mumbled into my mouth. “You’re almost there, Kate. Take it. Fuck!” I detonated, and he followed closely behind me with a deep groan.
I cut her words off with my mouth as we reached the back door of Miles’s truck. Thank God the windows were tinted, and I knew that Mike and Miles would studiously avoid looking where we were standing…but it wouldn’t have mattered if they hadn’t. She whimpered and gripped my head in her hands as I swept my tongue into her mouth, and I couldn’t resist grabbing her ass and hoisting her up until she was braced against the truck with her legs wrapped around me. I didn’t know what I was doing. Things between us were getting so complicated. Too complicated. But I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving without the taste of her in my mouth.
“Take it off,” he ordered gruffly, the tendons in his neck growing taught. “All the way, Kate.” I closed my eyes as I pulled the shirt over my head and only opened them again when I heard him let out a harsh breath. “Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes dilated until they were almost black. “Do you know what we’d be doing if I was there right now?” I nodded mutely as I watched him watching me. “You’re so fucking incredible, Kate. Jesus, those breasts—” I laughed a little as he whimpered, then slid the shirt back over my head, hiding my body from view.
He slid his tongue into my mouth as I began to shake, and I kissed him back until I finally couldn’t concentrate on both his mouth and his hand at the same time. “Harder,” I ordered, clenching my teeth so hard it was a wonder I didn’t shatter them. “Goddamn,” he groaned, sucking on my shoulder as I got closer and closer to the edge. My hands were frantic as I tried to touch all of his torso at once, the nails of one hand digging into the forearm between us as it flexed over and over. His fingers were curled up inside me, and every time he jerked his hand up, his palm rubbed over my swollen clit. I came hard, my mouth at his throat as I tried not to make any noise.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Harlequin Hero: Alexander Knight Heroine: Helen Smith Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: October 1989 Started On: May 03, 2020 Finished On: May 04, 2020
Susan Napier is an author who continually pushes the expected norms when it comes to writing romances, especially at a time during which not many authors were inclined to do so. Ms. Napier’s novels are about feminism, equal rights, and at times heroines who hold onto the concept of independence to the point where it becomes a tad annoying to read the book. But never let it be said that Ms. Napier writes conventional romances, as this title itself is testament of.
Another Time was first published in 1989 and given the concept that is explored in this book, I rightfully guessed from the onset that this would not be well received by most readers. At certain points at the beginning of the story, even I was unsure of how I felt about what was taking place, up till the point where more salient details came to light later on.
24 year old Helen Smith is engaged and getting ready for her nuptials with the help of her future in-laws. With her fiance away, Helen is not at all ready for the havoc that is wrought by the introduction of her fiance’s brother, Alexander Knight (Alex).
With a reputation that precedes him, both professionally and otherwise, Alex makes Helen uncomfortable right from the start. Alex mistaking Helen to be someone else, the woman who had haunted his dreams for the past five years makes Helen want to understand where he is coming from when he makes untoward remarks and comments that a future brother-in-law rightfully should not be making.
However, as the events unfold and more details emerge, things aren’t as straightforward as they seem to be at first. Helen who does not remember her time with Alex, is determined to do right by her fiance, even when her body clamors to be with her fiance’s brother. Forcing herself to go through the motions is made impossible by the fact that Alex is everywhere she turns, unrelenting on his goal to win back the woman he believes to be his, even if it means stealing her away from his own brother.
As I mentioned at the beginning, this novel’s premise is not for everyone. Most readers would not be able to get past the fact that Alex is seemingly the one in the wrong, when truth couldn’t be far from it. While I loved Alex as a hero, I believe his sensuality was the most well done factor in the book, something Ms. Napier excels at and amazes me with time and yet again. For a novel that was written and published in the late 80’s, Another Time certainly packs a punch with scenes of passion done so right, which is classic Ms. Napier.
While the novel lost some of its allure towards the latter half of it, I believe the key reason behind that factor was Helen herself, who could not seem to understand the love she has for Alex and vice versa. She fails to see where Alex was coming from, when what they had shared together at a certain point in time had been transcendental. I would have liked it better had Helen come to terms with her feelings, as complex as they seemed to be, and met Alex halfway when all was said and done.
Nevertheless, I did enjoy this story for the most part, or at least the parts where Alex made my senses hum. I believe the ending felt more bereft due to the lack of an epilogue which would have gone a long way towards making this more well rounded.
Recommended for fans of Susan Napier and those that love reading unorthodox romances. Another Time is perhaps, not for everyone.
Final Verdict: Another Time is a novel that pushes the envelope when it comes to the genre. However, Ms. Napier’s mastery in delivering sensually charged stories is the saving grace when it comes to Alex and Helen.
‘Who am I?’ he asked against her mouth. ‘Alex?’ The terrible implications of his words suddenly sank into her hazy brain, the ugly reality of what he was saying. ‘No—’ ‘Yes.’ His tongue stroked away her muffled protest, his teeth burrowing lightly into the fullness of her lower lips, taking small, delicious bites out of her resistance. ‘Alex… you know me, don’t you? In your heart you know… I was the one who drew first blood, Angel. I was the one you turned to in your need, who showed you the glory of being a woman. And how you loved me for it…all through the long night. How hot and sweet you were, and eager, so eager to know everything. You were the most uninhibited lover I’ve ever had… my best lover… my last lover… my once and only lover…’
‘Alex—’ She clutched at him convulsively, not knowing whether she was rejecting or inviting his touch. But he knew… ‘It’s all right, darling,’ he whispered against the delicate curve of her jaw. ‘I know what you want, I know where you like to be touched, and how… I know everything about how to please you…’ And his fingers wound into her hair, pulling her head back so that her spine arched against the hand that held her hips against his arousal. His tongue tracked the blue vein that traced a creamy breast until he found the rosy crest, where he nipped and licked until her hands pleadingly cupped his head and he began to suckle with rhythmic firmness that made her almost faint with pleasure. Her legs sagged until she was cradled against the hardness between his thighs as he turned his attention to her other breast and loved it with equal fervour and skill.
‘Ssshhh.’ He covered her cries with his mouth. ‘No noise, darling, not this time… If you want to scream, do it with your body, express it all in the way you move…’ ‘Greg—’ ‘Lover—’ His hard mouth corrected her, his hands sliding beneath her to cup her arching bottom, preparing to make the appellation the literal truth at last. ‘I’m your lover.’ His husky whisper was as erotic as the strain of his hair-roughened thighs between hers. ‘The only lover you’ll ever need… ever want…’ ‘Yes, oh, yes…’ she sobbed in sweet, passionate relief. ‘Say it… my only lover.’ ‘My only lover—’ ‘Tell me you’ll never love anyone else…’ ‘Never… anyone else,’ she gasped, twisting in his implacable grasp. ‘Only you…’
And then, with a single, powerful movement that stole the last of her shattered reason, he flipped her on to her back and came over and into her so hard and fast that her head spun, stretching her body into a taut bow beneath his as he wrenched her into paradise, cupping her head and pulling her face hard against his chest to muffle her helpless cries.