Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: First Person, Dual Series: Chestnut Springs, #2 Publisher: Bloom Books Hero: Cade Eaton Heroine: Willa Grant Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: October 14, 2022 Started On: July 25, 2025 Finished On: July 29, 2025
She smells like oranges and warm grass, refreshing and comforting all at once. She feels like heaven in my hands. And she looks just as wild as I’ve always known she is.
I can now understand why Heartless has been hyped so much by fellow romance readers, because this book was everything I want in a contemporary romance: funny, emotional, sexy, with characters who feel real. From the very first chapter, I was pulled into the story of Cade Eaton, the grumpy single dad rancher, and Willa Grant, the sassy, city-bred nanny who upends his carefully ordered life.
Cade is the kind of hero who makes me swoon; he is a man of contrasts. At thirty-eight, he is mature, responsible, and a little rough around the edges. Life has left him emotionally scarred and cynical, and his ex-wife only reinforced the belief that his best would never be enough. Yet beneath that hardened exterior lies a man who is tender, protective, and deeply loving, especially when it comes to his son, Luke. Watching Cade as both father and lover is an experience in itself, because the same hands that manage a ranch with rugged efficiency also know how to be devastatingly gentle.
Willa, at twenty-five, is the perfect foil to Cade’s grumpiness. She is bold, irreverent, and a little wild in all the ways that shake up his world. Sassy and yet commitment-phobic, she is used to running when things get too deep. Yet she is also fiercely loyal and brings a light into Cade’s life that he did not even know he was missing. Their banter is sharp and often laugh-out-loud funny, their text messages brimming with sexual tension and genuine affection, and when the slow burn finally explodes, let’s just say truth or dare has never been this hot.
The tension between them is beautifully balanced: Cade’s dirty talk and commanding presence paired with Willa’s playful defiance creates the kind of sexual angst that makes every scene sizzle. But what makes the book stand out is the softer moments; the way Cade takes care of her, the way Willa coaxes him into believing he is enough, and the way they both find in each other the family and love they did not think they could have. I also loved how fierce Willa was when it comes to Luke and Cade, which proves to be Cade’s undoing in the end.
I adored the secondary cast too, who added texture and warmth rather than being cardboard side characters. Luke was adorable. No two ways about it. Juggling a kid in the story line is sometimes a hit or a miss and I believe it was handled beautifully here. And while the epilogue with Willa giving birth was a lovely touch, I did wish to see more of her family and to watch Cade and Willa tie the knot. Still, the ending gave me everything I needed, and left me humming in the right places.
Recommended for: fans of grumpy/sunshine romances, single dad heroes, sassy heroines, and slow-burn heat that pays off in spades.
Final Verdict: Funny, sexy, and heartfelt, Heartless is the perfect blend of grit and tenderness—Cade and Willa are unforgettable.
Favorite Quotes
“You’re a good man, Cade Eaton. Quite possibly one of the best.” Her voice is so soft that I barely hear it. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I drop my head toward her. Everything around us fades away. I don’t know how she has this knack for telling me the things I crave. Tracing my insecurities the way she does. Soothing the hurt she doesn’t even know exists.
“Red,” I whisper-shout. Her head flips in my direction, her eyes twinkling. Because, if nothing else, Willa Grant is a shit disturber, waltzing into my life and complicating it without even trying. Looking all pleased with herself over it. With a wink over her shoulder, she shoots off, running from me. And something primal in me roars to life. I chase her.
If Willa is the playground, I want to fucking play. Period.
I pull a drawer open and rifle through it to busy my shaking hands. My fingers run up against something silky in the drawer full of scissors, elastics, clips, and Post-it notes. I grab and pull and peer down into my palm. The black panties I dropped in that coffee shop all those weeks ago. Turning back, I dangle them in my fingers. Cade doesn’t look surprised at all; he just regards me with his Annoyed Scowl. “You kept these?” I demand, sounding petulant even to myself. “You told me you threw them away.” “I lied,” he grits out. “Why?” “Because you’ve never been just the nanny, Willa.” My chest lurches as I look back at him, feeling suspended in time. “You’ve always been more. The woman I wanted but wouldn’t let myself have.”
We’re just energy, and heat, and breath. I’ve never been so thoroughly consumed in my life. Never had sex with such an edge to it. “Mine.” His growl is downright feral as he explodes inside of me, hands tracing my back reverently. A man of such dichotomies. Hard words laced with love. Rough hands filled with tenderness.
When I open my eyes, Luke is staring at me with a thoughtful expression on his face. “What did you wish for?” I ask him, needing something lighthearted. Thinking it will be something ridiculous. Something frivolous. Instead, he delivers a gut punch. One soft cheek hitches up, and he glances back down into the dark well. “I wished for Willa to come back.” My eyes burn when I pull him into me, feel his tiny arms clutching at my waist. And my voice cracks when I say, “Me too, pal. Me too.”
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Fantasy Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Uyane Meoraq Heroine: Amber Katherine Bierce Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: September 12, 2013 Started On: December 19, 2024 Finished On: January 10, 2025
“If you’re worried that you don’t please me, you can be easy, Soft-Skin. Your body was made to pleasure mine.”
The Last Hour of Gann by R. Lee Smith is not just a book. It is an experience, one that swallowed me whole and left me reeling in ways I have yet to recover from. At over 700 pages, it is vast in scope, unapologetically brutal, and achingly beautiful, with a depth that few romances even dare to attempt.
This is the book that ruined me for months, plunging me into a reading slump where nothing else came remotely close. Every book I picked up since seemed to lack luster. And I know that I would never be able to find the same high as I found between the pages of this devastating book. Even now, eight months later, I still catch myself thinking of the story at odd moments, still yearning for another novel that could make me feel the way this one did. It is, quite simply, a masterpiece of dark romantic fantasy.
The story begins with Amber Katherine Bierce who has only ever known hardship. When her mother dies, leaving Amber and her fragile sister Nicci on the verge of eviction, Amber seizes what little hope they have left: two tickets on a colony ship bound for another world. But what promises escape turns into nightmare when the ship crashes on an unknown, hostile planet. From the beginning, Amber is the one who shoulders responsibility, whose stubborn independence and instinct keep others alive, even when those same people repay her only with cruelty and suspicion. She is a heroine who is far from perfect; stubborn to the point of frustration. But that makes her all the more real, all the more human.
Enter Uyane Meoraq, Sword of Sheul, warrior, priest, and reluctant heir to his father’s House. A lizard man. A holy executioner. A creature so disciplined, devout, and steeped in violence that falling in love with him should be unthinkable. And yet, Meoraq is the standard by which I will measure every anti-hero hereafter. Or every monster hero as well.
He is ruthless, a lizard man torn between his faith and his desire, bound by his duty and yet undone by one stubborn, brash, and impossible human woman. His religiosity anchors him, tempers the violence that simmers constantly beneath the surface, but it is Amber who makes him falter, who unsettles him, who becomes the one thing he cannot give up. Watching him resist her, crave her, and ultimately yield to the inevitability of their bond is nothing short of epic.
Their relationship is forged in fire, on a journey through a dying world scarred by the sins of its past. They argue, they circle each other like adversaries, their attraction at once a source of fury and salvation. And when they do finally come together, it is not in the neat, tidy arc of conventional romance but through struggle, suffering, and an intimacy that is both tender and savage. Azrael from Land of the Beautiful Dead may have been unforgettable, but Meoraq is something else entirely. He is a character steeped in darkness and yet when he loves, he loves with a totality that wrecks you.
R. Lee Smith is an author who does not flinch from depraved darkness. This book contains cruelty, rape, fat-shaming, and horror so raw that it twists your gut. The depravity of the humans who survive the crash, the vile selfishness of Nicci and Scott, the unspeakable atrocities Amber endures at the hands of Zhuga and the raiders; these are not easy pages to read by any means. And yet, the ugliness is what makes the beauty shine brighter and the story so wholesome and worth it. When Meoraq refuses to cast Amber aside, even after everything she suffers at the hands of her captors, when he claims her without hesitation, it is one of the most powerful declarations of love I have ever encountered.
The world building is staggering. This is not just the backdrop to a romance; it is a planet with its own theology, history, and sins. The revelation of Gann’s downfall; bioweapons, nano-tech, and an entire civilization undone by its hubris is chilling, and the way faith and ritual evolved to contain violence was both fascinating and tragic.
Meoraq’s pilgrimage to Xi’Matezh elevate the story beyond romance into something almost mythic. And Amber, the atheist who mocks prayer and the existence of God, finds herself crying out to the very same when she has nothing left. The irony, the resonance, it all leaves you hollow and awed.
There were moments I wanted to shake Amber for clinging to her worthless sister, for fighting Meoraq even when he had proven himself a hundred times over. And yet, her flaws are what makes her believable, relatable, and her strength and fortitude, what makes her worthy of the Sword of Sheul. Amber gives as good as she gets, her fierceness and loyalty are traits that stands out. She is not some idealized heroine but a flawed, scarred woman who stands tall in a world determined to break her. Together, she and Meoraq are not easy, but they are inevitable. Theirs is a love fated across galaxies, and in Meoraq’s words, Amber was the woman he was born into this world to find.
Do I wish there had been an epilogue, a glimpse of Amber and Meoraq years later, forging a life together after everything? Absolutely. But even without it, the ending is fitting, devastating, and triumphant in equal measure.
Recommended for: readers who crave true dark romance, with a mix of philosophy, horror, theology, and love all intertwined, who can handle being gutted and remade by a book.
Final Verdict: Brutal, beautiful, and unforgettable, The Last Hour of Gann is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of book, one that ruins you for all others.
Favorite Quotes
There were no atheists in foxholes, it was said, and she guessed when it came to lugging crates uphill in the freezing wind on an alien planet, there were no feminists either. – Amber
“It was a dream,” Meoraq said, getting up. “Dreams don’t mean anything.” He came over to her side of the fire and pulled her blanket back. His body was cool and rough and heavy on top of her, and it felt good in ways that sort of thing never had back on Earth. He caught her chin in a pinch, made her look at him when he entered her. “Dreams are only dreams,” he told her seriously. “This is real.” She came hard, kicking and thrashing, and suddenly found herself alone in the mess of her blanket with rain falling into her stupidly gaping face and Meoraq once more on his side of the fire, watching her.
“But we’re completely boxed in. If anyone bad comes, the only way out—” Meoraq unclipped his kzung and showed her the shine of its blade in the stormlight. “—is through them,” he finished, and flared his mouth to bare all his teeth. “Is that man enough for you?” The flicker of the storm made it difficult to tell, but he thought she smiled. And then she screamed as lightning struck the ground directly outside the window, sending shards of stone into the glass. The thunder that followed shattered what the stones had cracked; the window blew inward and smashed itself across the floor. Meoraq turned his head away from the wall of freezing wind that blasted in at them and was nearly knocked from his feet when Amber slammed up against him. Like a little fork of lightning inside his mind, Meoraq’s thoughts washed out to white. He could not hear the storm, feel the wind. For a moment—the very briefest moment, the very longest—he was aware of nothing but the press of her body to the whole of his, her hands digging at his back, the warmth that was her breath blowing against his heart. He could not feel himself at all, except where he was defined by her touch. Her embrace.
“I am not angry with you,” he announced, hoping to provoke her. “Lies,” she muttered, but she looked at him. Glared at him. And that was better. “A Sheulek is the master of his emotions,” he told her. “I have every right to be angry with you. I choose the higher path. I forgive you and we will say no more about it. Give me my mending kit.” She reached it out from beneath her pack, but only held it for a while. “I should have thanked you for this last night,” she said finally. “I don’t know how it is with your people, lizardman, but when it comes to humans, you don’t interrupt a girl’s crying jag and then expect her to be grateful.” He could not believe this. “Are you criticizing my behavior?” he asked incredulously. Her shoulders fell. “Sure sounds that way, doesn’t it? Damn it. Here.” He did not move to take the kit and, after a few awkward moments, she let her offering arm drop again. They looked at each other. She said, without heat and without warning, “I’ve never needed anyone before. Never in my life. I hate that I need you.”
He opened his mouth to tell her she was acting like a child and heard himself say instead, softly, “Do you think I would not call you by your name if I could?” She looked at him and away, trying to pretend she was not attached to the arm that ended in his grip. “I guess you think it doesn’t matter. I guess you figure as long as I still answer to ‘insufferable human,’ it’s fine.” “It’s honest, at least.” He sighed, opened his hand and rubbed at his brow ridges instead. “There are three words I could call you that come close to the sound of your name. Taambret, a disease we have that causes festering sores of the mouth.” She blinked, her brows puckering. “Mb’z, a vulgar term for one weak of mind,” he continued. “Amyr, the name of a kind of swimming creature that lives and feeds in the mud. And I will not call you by these names.” “You said…You said it didn’t matter what the word meant as long as—” “Not for you.”
“Yes. And stop making that face,” he added. “You need the marrow more than meat in these days.” “I’m not having any.” He snorted. “Yes. You are.” “I don’t want it, Meoraq.” “I don’t want to feed S’kot. Life is full of things we do not want to do and must do anyway.” He turned the strips of tachuqi fat, which were browning up nicely already. “Meat may keep the life in your body a little longer, but no one stays healthy on meat alone. The season for green leaves and grain is done. My cuuvash is spent. Marrow is what I have to give you and you will eat it.” “I don’t see you forcing it on anyone else.” “I don’t care about anyone else.”
“Are you with me, Soft-Skin?” he murmured, stroking at her cold, damp brow. “Open your eyes. See me.” They did open, and Meoraq let out an unmanning shout of relief, but they only rolled back and shut again. She had not seen him, did not know him. But she had opened her eyes. “Uyane Meoraq is with you,” he told her, and put his hand over her heart. “Hear me where you are and follow. Sheul, our Father, has set you in my path. So did you come to me and so you belong to me. Do you hear me, woman? You are mine! I found you, I own you, and I forbid you to die!” His voice, risen to a shout, was a thunder in the tent, a whisper in the world. She did not answer. The heart that beat beneath his hand beat no stronger. “I won’t leave you,” he said softly. “Please don’t leave me.” Nothing. She did nothing. Meoraq curled around her as close as his separate clay could press and closed his eyes. “O my Father, I cry out to You. You gave her to me and if I have not been as grateful as a son should be, I am sorry. But You gave her to me. Now…please…give her back.”
The wind blew over them, stirring the grass and pushing smoke in a hot curtain between them. Meoraq’s eyes on her were unblinking, hot as live coals. She couldn’t look at them, had to look at his dark blood on the sleeve of her last clean shirt instead. “I’m so sorry.” He did not reply. “I should have seen it.” Still no answer. “Please…” don’t leave me. Amber bit down on that until her lips stopped shaking, but as soon as she unlocked her jaws, it found another way out as a trembling, “Please don’t be mad at me.” He broke his gaze at last, turning his terrible eyes and whatever furious emotion was in them on the sky. “I’m not.”
Without speaking, he unbuckled his sword-belt. It and the hooked sword he carried landed on the discarded heap of his tunic. “What are you doing?” Amber asked, and hated the little whisper in which she asked it. “I, nothing,” he said brusquely, sitting down in the grass to unfasten his boots. “You are tending my wounds. And you can bathe me while you’re about it.”
Amber picked the cloth out of the grass and washed her face. It was cold. She dunked it in the stewing pouch, now the bathing pouch, and tried again, but the wind took away the heat before her skin had time to really feel it. She dabbed at Meoraq’s bloody scales some more; he couldn’t feel her or the wind or the cold. She finished cleaning him up, then made one last pass for quills, not so much because she expected to find them, but just so she could keep touching him. The tough old Amber who didn’t need anybody was dead and buried; the weepy, useless Amber who was left needed to be touched tonight, even if all he did was wake up and grab her wrist and tell her to keep her hands to herself.
Amber dabbed unnecessarily at the wound, which had already sealed itself. His blood was hot on her fingers, but cooled fast, darkening to black in the open air. The scent of cloves wafted up. Meoraq slept. She watched him. After a while, she put her hands on him again, stained now with his blood and hers, and ran them gently back and forth as she stared into his face. She wondered if she would be able to tell him from other lizardmen, if she ever met one. She wondered if he were handsome, for a lizard.
He wanted to give her back her people, as much as he hated the thought of having them back. He wanted to prove they were all dead so her grief would finally end, but he couldn’t do it without killing her blood-kin, her damned Nicci. He wanted Amber, the whole Amber, and he wanted her to want him the way she thought she wanted the cowardly, treacherous cattle who had left her in the grass to die. He wanted all these things, all at the same time, and the conflict left him in such a constant state of resentment and self-disgust and sympathy that he could hardly speak to her at all.
“Open to me.” She stiffened, staring intently and in tight-lipped silence into his eyes, but then she obeyed without allowing him even a token show of force, submitting as one already in his possession. He resisted the urge that swept him then, instead touching the soft skin below her brilliant eyes. “You are mine,” he said. It was early for these words. They were meant to come after, when conquest was done, but conquest, it seemed, already was.
“Don’t tell me what I mean.” But his spines lowered and he brushed his knuckles across her brow, then along the shorn half of her head. “How can you say you’re not mine when you gave everything you had to me? Everything you are…” His fingers scraped lightly down her cheek, along her throat and under the neck of her shirt, peeling it back from her skin so that he exposed her bitten shoulder. And did she roll her eyes? Shrug off his hand? Take even one step back out of his reach? No. She just stood there with her mouth slightly open and her girly heart fluttering and a hot glow way down deep in her belly and let him do it. “God gave you to me,” he murmured, nuzzling under her jaw. “Even when I did not know how to ask. He found you anyway and put you in my path. You are the woman I was born into this world to find.”
He smiled. “It pleases me that you want to be my well-mannered woman,” he said, peeling back the neck of her shirt. Ignoring her playful slaps, he licked at the mark he’d left in her soft skin. “But I would rather have the insufferable she-warrior I was given. So if you want me, put your hands on me and tell me so.” “What if I don’t want you?” “Ah, my wife, is that what’s bothering you?” He licked her again, slowly this time, tasting the strange, rich bitters of her blood, and felt it when she shivered. “We have only been married two days. Surely that is too early for you to start worrying that I might set you aside, especially since you have burned for me so readily thus far.”
“They are people.” “They may well be, but with no face, no scales, fur in thatches all over and Gann alone knows what else, they are monstrous people.” Uyane looked at him, head canted but spines all the way forward. “And you married one. Why?” “I had to,” Meoraq said. Lord Uyane snorted. “There had to be other ways to prove these things were children of Sheul. You’re a young man. You have the fame of your bloodline, the favor of God and the face of your father. Why bind yourself to a…a creature?” “I had to,” Meoraq said again. “We were married before I even met her. We were married before I was ever born.”
He fetched what tea was left in his stewing pouch after the humans had been at it and poured it into his new metal flask, then brought it back for her to drink. She managed only a few sips, grimacing at the taste, which was a perfectly good winterleaf blend. “For now, know that you are in His sight.” “Like I was when He let me get on the ship?” “The ship that brought you to me, yes.” He grazed the backs of his knuckles gently across her brow. “He set you on this path, Soft-Skin. Have faith that He will see you reach this journey’s end.”
“Say something,” she said at last. “God is in His heaven,” said Meoraq in a distant voice. “And loves me.” Zhuqa had said something like that once. This time, it was beautiful.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked quietly. “Something I really have known all along. Something that is one hundred percent true. Something…Something I could have built my own shrine on.” He didn’t answer, but he didn’t say no. “You’re an alien,” she told him. “Or I am. One of us is, at any rate.” He sighed and rubbed at his brow-ridges. “Our worlds are billions of miles apart. We come from two entirely different evolutionary trees. You have scales, I have hair. We have different skeletons, different organs, different everything, right down to the number of fingers and toes. We are one hundred percent incompatible. The only thing we have in common is a carbon base.” “So?” he said wearily. “So I’m pregnant,” said Amber, and was amazed at how matter-of-fact she sounded, saying it for the first time. “What the hell do you call that if it isn’t God?”
“You told me once that I was good at seeing evidence and, boy, did it piss me off because this is something that I really did not want to see. But men can only push themselves so far, Meoraq, and men with faith can only push so much further. All the evidence is telling me…there’s something else out there, pulling from the other side. I don’t like it,” said Amber bluntly. “I’m not at peace with it. I sure as hell don’t take comfort in it…but I’m glad you do.” He frowned, tried to look away, but Amber caught his snout and turned him back. “Because all the things God isn’t for me,” she said, “you are. Because of you, I see Him every day. So start talking, lizardman, but I warn you, you’ve got a hard talk ahead of you if you’re going to convince me there’s no God after He gave you to me.” She waited, but he didn’t say anything. He took a few deep breaths, then reached up and brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. His eyes closed. He bent and let her guide his head to rest on her shoulder. He put his arms around her. He did not rage. He wept.
“What are you afraid of the most?” He was quiet. Neck bent, he opened and closed his mouth several times before finally whispering, “Being alone.” She put her arm around him again. “I know I should be more worried about my soul,” he said in a quick, almost embarrassed way. “But I think I have one and I don’t think I’ll care if I’m wrong when I’m dead. What frightens me is knowing I’m alone now. When it matters.”
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Fantasy Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Azrael the Eternal Heroine: Lanachee Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: October 29, 2015 Started On: November 23, 2024 Finished On: December 09, 2024
I am almost afraid to even attempt putting into words what this book made me feel, because Land of the Beautiful Dead is exactly what I mean when I say I want a villainous hero, one who is ruthless, irredeemable, and yet someone you fall for hopelessly and helplessly. The amazing thing about this 500+ paged novel is that you dive in and lose yourself in the story. No two ways about it.
R. Lee Smith is the kind of writer who makes you feel at home from the very first page; there is no easing in, no slow build to trust; her prose simply takes you in, surrounds you, and refuses to let go. She writes with such richness and evocative beauty that you find yourself in this delicious tug-of-war, wishing you could devour the story faster while desperately wanting to linger and savor every line.
This is perhaps one of the longest books I have ever read, and yet not a single page felt wasted. Most romances fit neatly into a certain length, or are broken into installments, but Smith dares to go where few would; into the depths of truly dark romance, giving readers something substantial, immersive, and unapologetically intense to sink their teeth into. Perhaps I am only now dipping my toes into the romantasy genre so many rave about, but no author has ever tempted me into it quite like this one.
Land of the Beautiful Dead is an epic, hauntingly beautiful romance that defies genre boundaries and lingers in the mind long after the last page. Set in a post-apocalyptic world reduced to ruins under the rule of Azrael the Eternal, the story blends dark fantasy, dystopia, and romance into a narrative that is as unsettling as it is breathtaking. The world outside the walled city of Haven is plagued by the Eaters, undead creatures that devour human life, and while humans eke out a brutal existence, Azrael and his favored Children reign supreme behind the city walls.
Lanachee, or Lan, has only known this harsh existence, but she refuses to surrender to despair. Driven by the belief that the Eaters must be destroyed if humanity is to survive, she undertakes a journey straight into the heart of enemy territory, i.e., Azrael’s stronghold. Expecting death, she instead finds herself offered a bargain; convince the most feared being on earth to end the Eaters, and in the meantime submit herself to his chilling embrace. This is no light courtship; Lan is insignificant in the face of his power, a human among an immortal race that despises her kind. Yet her brashness, stubbornness, and refusal to bow to him catches Azrael off guard.
Azrael is embodies the very essence of a villainous hero; ruthless, irredeemable, and yet impossible not to love. Lonely despite being surrounded by his own kind, he has lived for centuries in a cycle of mistrust, violence, and cold survival. His Children are malicious and vindictive, but the deeper the reader ventures into their psyche, the more the reasons behind their cruelty come into focus.
With Azrael himself, Smith crafts a figure as magnetic as he is monstrous, a man who hires a tutor to refine Lan’s manners, who is undone by the simple fact that she kisses him without revulsion, who cannot decide whether to let her go or chain her to his side for eternity. His obsession with her wars constantly with the demons that have shaped him into what he is.
The dynamic between them is fraught with power imbalance. Lan is uncultured, brash, and at times infuriatingly shortsighted, yet she becomes the one person capable of offering Azrael comfort, even when she does not understand why she is compelled to do so. He likes her rebellious nature, her refusal to simply submit.
Their kisses alone tell a story of need and vulnerability, and as the narrative unfolds, they become each other’s solace in a way neither could have foreseen. There are moments when Lan frustrated me deeply, and yet she is exactly what this lonely, scarred man, reviled by all, needs.
This is not a romance of grand gestures alone; it is a slow, grinding evolution of two souls learning to navigate each other’s darkness. Azrael’s centuries of regrets over what he has done to protect his undead, Lan’s unwavering yet flawed mission to destroy the Eaters, and the impossible choice between their loyalties form the core of the tension.
Told entirely from Lan’s perspective, the depth of Azrael’s emotions must be pieced together from her observations, which makes his moments of vulnerability all the more shattering. The sheer scope of the novel allows this relationship to breathe and evolve, and a shorter work could never have done justice to its complexity.
By the time the ending comes, it feels not just fitting, but inevitable. Azrael, the scarred and feared monster no woman would touch, finds in Lan a passionate, protective love that is unconditional. And Lan, in turn, finds her place beside him, not as a pet or pawn, but as his equal in a way no one else could be.
This book deserves all the stars in the world!
Recommended for: readers who crave truly dark, villainous heroes; sprawling, immersive world-building; and romances that challenge the very concept of love and morality.
Final Verdict: A masterwork of dark romantic fantasy; unflinching, immersive, and unforgettable; Land of the Beautiful Dead is easily one of the best romances I have ever read.
Favorite Quotes
“Humans are such a contradiction in their very essence that I find I can neither wholly hate nor envy them, even after all these years and all the cause I have been given. Your capacity for destruction, terrible as it is, is as evenly matched by your ability to create and to imagine. I could never have built such a hall.” – Azrael
“How many have you got?” He looked at her in some surprise. “Swans?” “Dollygirls, I meant.” “Presently?’ Lan braced herself. “Yeah.” “Twelve, apart from you.” She supposed she should feel relieved it wasn’t more. She didn’t. But he was watching and even if she didn’t know what she was feeling, she was somehow sure he did. To hide it, whatever ‘it’ was, she tossed off a shrug and said, “Unlucky number, thirteen.” “Mm. There’s also Chloe, although we’ve not entered a true contract yet.” Yet. Dicky word, that. Yet. “Why not?” His smile twisted inward and became bitter. “Were I you, I would say you’d ruined me.” “Me?” “You. The mark by which I have come to measure the living.” He glanced at her. His eyes lingered, dimming, before they turned away. “And find them wanting.”
“I can’t help but feel you’re trying to get rid of me,” she said, trying to pretend she was joking. “No.” His eyes flickered. “No, Lan. I’m trying to keep you.”
Sometimes, Azrael would be there already when she returned to the just-a-house, but more often, she went to sleep alone in the overlarge bed that was hers for so long as she was here and he woke her as he slipped beneath the covers and took her silently into his chill embrace. He always tensed when she kissed him, but allowed it, even on those nights he did nothing but let it happen. He was more comfortable with sex than kisses. So was she, if the truth be known, but the kissing came naturally when she was with him. The fucking was almost an afterthought for her, the full stop at the end of a long and complicated sentence, but for him, it was everything—reward and punishment both.
He lifted her like it was easy, lay her down like it was natural and right. He hid nothing from her—not the chill of his flesh or the points of his claws, not ten thousand years and more of memories, or even the ghost of the girl she knew was still standing somewhere in his mind with her shirt open and her small body ready to be bought. He gave her all he was and she embraced him gladly and brought him home. It was too naked to be fucking, too desperate to be lovemaking. Sex was supposed to be something someone did to someone else, but whatever this was, they did it together. He hurt and she hurt with him. She was lost and he was with her in the dark. It was terrible and beautiful, shining with pleasure and clouded with pain, and that was how she came, torn open and full of light.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Harlequin Presents Hero: Griffin McKenna Heroine: Dana Anderson Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: August 01, 1998 Started On: July 18, 2024 Finished On: July 19, 2024
If you were a man, the sky was the limit. But if you were a woman, there was a glass ceiling. And she had reached it.
Sandra Marton’s The Bridal Suite is one of those romances that manages to be equal parts sexy, funny, and emotionally charged. The premise itself sets the stage for sparks to fly; Dana Anderson, a brilliant programmer battling the constant underestimation of women in a male-dominated workplace, suddenly finds herself trapped in a situation with Griffin McKenna, the financial genius with a pirate’s reputation for taking whatever he wants. When business forces them to share a room at a conference and of all places, the bridal suit, the inevitability of their simmering attraction becomes impossible to deny.
Griffin is the quintessential alpha hero: hot-blooded, smug, and unapologetically arrogant at the start. His reputation as a womanizer precedes him, and his take-no-prisoners attitude in business leaves Dana bristling at every turn. Yet beneath that exterior lies a man who is all passion, intensity, and just enough vulnerability to keep readers hooked. Dana, on the other hand, is his match in every way. Smart, independent, and unafraid to stand her ground, she is not dazzled by Griffin’s charm or cowed by his authority, if anything, she delights in throwing his arrogance back at him.
What makes their dynamic so delicious is the constant push-and-pull between them. The misunderstandings, jealousy, and denial fuel the sexual tension that is already sizzling from the very start. Griffin may be used to being in control, but Dana keeps him perpetually off-balance, while she herself struggles to reconcile her attraction to a man she insists she wants nothing to do with. It is opposites attract at its finest, where both are forced to confront truths about themselves in order to see the other clearly.
What I loved most about this story is how unashamedly emotional and irrational both characters can be when it comes to love. The angst is sweetly realistic, because honestly, who remains calm and rational when every touch and kiss threatens to consume you? I feel sad sometimes when I read books of today where everyone is calm and rational about their feelings. No, life does not work like that, especially when you are in the throes of passion and uncertain of your place with the one you want to be. The humor threaded through their interactions lightens the narrative, balancing the tension with laugh-out-loud moments that makes the ride even more entertaining. The ending, tender and satisfying, ties everything together beautifully.
Recommended for: readers who love boss-employee dynamics, opposites attract, and sizzling banter that will keep you grinning as much as it makes you swoon.
Final Verdict: A witty, passionate romance with a hero to make you melt and a heroine who refuses to bow to him; The Bridal Suite is Sandra Marton at her sparkling best.
Favorite Quotes
If he hadn’t been linked with every beautiful female on the planet, it was only because, at thirty-five, he hadn’t yet had the time to get around to them all.
His kiss was hungry, hot and urgent. There was no tenderness to it, but tenderness wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him, had wanted him for days. For all the years of her life, and when he caught her up in his arms and took her to the bed, she sighed and sank down with him into the softness of the silk, her hands already under his shirt, her fingers hot against his hard, muscled flesh, her mouth open to his. “Dana,” he whispered, as if her name were all he could manage.
His hand closed on her blouse, tore it, ripped it from her, exposing her flesh to his mouth, his hungry, eager mouth… Somewhere in the distance, bells began to ring, chiming out the opening notes of Here Comes the Bride. It was the doorbell. They went rigid in each other’s arms. The bells rang again. Griffin cursed, rolled off the bed, and headed for the front door. Dana sat up. She was trembling. What had she done?
“Sweetheart?” Dana closed her eyes at the sound of Griffin’s voice. She heard the terrace doors slide open, then felt his body brush lightly against her. His arms went around her, and he drew her back against him. Don’t, she told herself. Oh, don’t. This is wrong. It’s wrong… “Dana.” He put his mouth to her throat, and her breath caught I love you, she thought, oh, Griffin, I love you. What was the sense in trying to deny it?
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novella Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: The Romanos, #1 Publisher: Mills and Boon Hero: Matthew Romano Heroine: Susannah Madison Capital Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: January 01, 1998 Started On: July 10, 2024 Finished On: July 13, 2024
Sometimes you stumble across a romance that makes you grin, sigh, and want to hug the book to your chest when you are done, and The Sexiest Man Alive by Sandra Marton was exactly that for me. I picked it up while hunting for something that would give me the same buzz as The Bedroom Business (another Marton favorite that I have reread countless times), and it delivered in spades. I have to appreciate Amazon for doing such a swell job in recommending this title to me. Equal parts sexy, hilarious, and heart-tugging, this one had me smiling from the first chapter to the very last page.
The premise itself is fun and lighthearted. Susannah Madison, editor at Chic magazine, finds herself at odds with Matthew Romano, a ruthless and commanding businessman who wants to shut down her publication. Susannah, clever and determined, comes up with a scheme to save the magazine: a feature on the “sexiest man alive” for Valentine’s Day. What she doesn’t anticipate is Matthew’s decision to supervise her search, or the way sparks fly between them from the very beginning. Their encounters are deliciously combative, full of sharp banter and sizzling chemistry that neither of them can deny.
Matthew Romano is exactly the sort of hero I love; sexy, commanding, sensitive, and yes, stupid when it comes to matters of the heart. He is a man who has been steadfastly holding on to his bachelorhood, only to find himself helplessly drawn to a woman he once thought of as an adversary.
That push-and-pull is what makes him so compelling; for all his ruthlessness in the boardroom, he loses his cool spectacularly whenever Susannah is near. He pushes her buttons, makes her drop her armor, and forces her to embrace her femininity in ways that both terrify and exhilarate her. He makes her feel, and that is where the power of his character lies.
Susannah, for her part, is just as delightful. Strong-willed, independent, and determined to fight for what she believes in, she matches Matthew every step of the way. From the moment she literally falls into his arms and they kiss each other senseless, to their many fiery clashes where neither one will back down, she proves herself to be every bit his equal. The way she unsettles him, challenges him, and ultimately steals his heart is exactly why this romance works so beautifully.
This book was undoubtedly delicious. What really makes the novel stand out is the hilarity woven into the fabric of their story. The way both Susannah and Matthew tries to deny the elephant in the room, the combustible attraction simmering between them, leads to some truly laugh-out-loud moments that balance the sensuality perfectly.
The sexual tension between Matthew and Susannah is off the charts. Every encounter, whether it is an argument, a negotiation, or an accidental brush of hands, is charged with longing and fire. Their kisses are fiery, their stolen moments laden with passion, and the eventual culmination is everything you would want from an enemies-to-lovers romance, and the eroticism much better than any explicit erotic romance. Add to that a touch of angst, the kind that makes your chest ache in the best possible way, and you have a romance that checks every single box. This is old-school category romance at its best, reminding me of why these classic Mills & Boon romances still stand the test of time.
Recommended for: readers who love old-school Mills & Boon with a perfect blend of wit, humor, fiery sexual tension, and heartfelt emotion. If you enjoyed The Bedroom Business, this one should definitely be next on your list.
Final Verdict: A marvelous story that made my heart happy, with a hero who is sexy, and commanding, and and story that is hilarious and romantic in all the ways that matter. This is one I will be revisiting again and again.
Favorite Quotes
“Mr. Romano.” She licked her lips. “I may have been a little out of line, but—” “A little?” He closed the distance remaining between them and looked coldly at her as her shoulders hit the wall. “Fascinating, Miss Clinton, how cautious your use of the language has suddenly become. For a woman given to such interesting hyperbole, I mean.” His eyes, dark and deep, fastened on hers. “Once again, I’m asking you to tell me what you mean by that word.” Susannah swallowed hard. He was close. Too close. She could smell the faint scent of soap on his skin, see the shadow of stubble on his jaw and chin. His lashes were dark and thick. His nose was perfectly straight except for a barely perceptible tilt midway down its length. He looked cold and hard and angry. And studly. He was studly, indeed, she thought dizzily. Her heart did what felt like a somersault in her chest. If you liked the type. She didn’t.
“Suze?” Claire’s voice was shrill. “Suze, are you okay?” Matthew dragged one of Susannah’s arms from around his neck. “She’s fine,” he called. Susannah glared at him. “I’m not—” He clamped a hand over her mouth “You want them to see this mess?” he hissed, his mouth at her ear. “Do you have an explanation that’s going to keep everybody out there from figuring we just slugged it out?” Susannah threw a wild look around the room. Papers were strewn across the floor. The heavy conference table stood at an angle to the wall. The lamp had shattered, and the telephone was emitting a pathetic bleep. And on top of all that, here she was, sitting cozily in Matthew Romano’s lap.
“Susannah,” he said fiercely. She looked at him. His eyes were hot and dark with desire. A shudder raced through her. She knew that what was going to happen between them would change her life forever, would make any other lover impossible. “Yes,” she said, raising her arms to him, “yes. yes…” The door swung open, hitting the wall like a clap of thunder rolling over the canyons of the city. “Oh, my God! Susannah!” Susannah almost fell off the table. She sat up. Matthew stepped back. Both of them stared at the open door, where Claire and Eddie and Judy and, Susannah thought desperately, what looked like a million other CHIC staffers stood crowded together in stunned silence. It was like staring into a sea of disbelief. Mouths hung open. Eyes grew round as saucers. Heads swiveled, as if this were a tennis match, while everyone looked from Susannah to Matthew, from Matthew to Susannah…
Matthew’s gaze flew over her again, taking in all the details. A black suit had replaced the Beethoven sweatshirt and the baggy jeans. The suit was demure, even severe, but it couldn’t disguise the curves beneath. Black shoes had replaced the sneakers. Not just any black shoes. Matthew swallowed hard. The heels were high. Not outrageously high. They were surely some Fifth Avenue shop’s idea of dress-for-success shoes to match the dress-for-success suit, but high enough to show off the trimness of Susannah’s ankles and the luscious length of her legs. And they were cut low enough in the front so he could see…what did you call those little lines between a woman’s toes? Cleavage? He wanted to laugh—the word, the very concept, seemed so outrageous—but how could he laugh when he was busy concentrating on keeping his jaw from dropping again?
What kind of a man kissed a woman he didn’t like with such passion? A better question was, what kind of woman kissed him back? And she was kissing him. There was no point in pretending otherwise. Matthew was feasting on her mouth, and she was on fire for him, for his kisses and his touch. Some still logical part of her fought for sanity. “No.” she said, against his mouth, “Matthew, we can’t…” He tunneled his fingers into her hair, tilted her face to his. “Just kiss me,” he said thickly, “kiss me and stop thinking.”
“Well,” he said. “Well,” she said. “Good night, Susannah.” “Good night, Matthew.” He turned. She put her hand on the doorknob. He stepped into the hall. She began to shut the door… “The hell with this,” he growled, and swung toward her. “Dammit, Susannah,” he said, and before his heart could take another beat, she was in his arms. He lifted her, and she wound her arms around his neck as his hand tunneled into her hair. He kicked the door shut and kissed her without preliminaries, without gentleness. Why would there be wooing when they both knew that this moment had been inevitable?
“No more games, Susannah.” “No,” she whispered, stroking the tip of her tongue against his, reveling in the heavy beat of his heart against hers. “No more games, Matthew.” He tasted of danger and of darkness. Of the heady wildness of desire. She tasted of hunger and of need. Of the sweetness of passion. “I want—I want—” “Everything,” he whispered, and kissed her again.
“I’ll come by at seven. We can have drinks first.” “Matthew, I don’t—” “Yes. You do.” His eyes turned dark and smoky. “Shall I prove it to you the way I did this morning?” Color flooded her face. “Why?” she whispered. He laughed, a low, sexy laugh that made her blood sizzle. “I mean,” she said quickly, “why me? I’m not your type.” “No,” he said. He ran his finger along the back of her hand. Goose bumps rose on her skin. “You’re not.” He smiled again, right into her eyes. “You’re not blond. You’re not dumb—although many of the ladies I’ve dated would be very upset to hear you use that word in conjunction with them, Susie.” His smile tilted. “I remember Miss North Carolina… She said she wanted to become a physicist.” “Matthew, I’m serious.” “So am I.” His smile faded. “You’re right. You’re not my type. You’re stubborn and hotheaded. You have a nasty temper and you like things your own way.” “You’re a fine one to talk,” she said huffily. “And I’d bet I’m not your type either, Madison. I don’t think you like being with a man who reminds you that you’re a woman.” “Your ego is unbearable, Romano.” “I’m just being honest.” His eyes grew hot. “Tell me if Sam or Peter ever made you feel the way I make you feel.” Sam. And Peter. Oh, God… “I can see the answer in your eyes, Susie.” Matthew smiled. “Seven o’clock. Don’t keep me waiting I like my women to be prompt.” “I am not your—” He bent his head and kissed her lightly on the mouth. Then he sauntered away.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Multiple Series: Fairy Tales, #2 Publisher: Avon Hero: Piers Yelverton, Earl of Marchant Heroine: Linnet Berry Thrynne Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: January 25, 2011 Started On: July 06, 2024 Finished On: July 08, 2024
Every now and then, a romance comes along that makes you laugh, swoon, and ache all at once, and for me, Eloisa James’ When Beauty Tamed the Beast was exactly that kind of read. A fairy-tale re-imagining with a historical twist, it is a story that pulls you in from the very first page and refuses to let go until the very end. Set against the rugged backdrop of Wales, the novel takes the essence of the Beauty and the Beast archetype and spins it into something wittier, sharper, and, dare I say, even more deliciously compelling.
This is a romance that has been raved about by so many readers, and I will admit I am late to the party. But better late than never is always my motto, especially when it comes to decadent romances, because this was my first taste of Ms. James’ work, and I must say it was nothing short of exquisite.
Linnet Berry Thrynne is our heroine, blessed with striking beauty and a boldness to match, she has grown up navigating the absurdities of her family with wit as her armor. Far from the demure society miss, Linnet faces life head-on, unafraid to embrace her sensuality and her desires. Her charm lies not only in her looks but in her refusal to be cowed by conventionor by the formidable beast she eventually encounters.
That beast comes in the form of Piers Yelverton, Earl of Marchant, heir to a dukedom and a man physically and emotionally scarred by the traumas of his past. A brilliant doctor with a razor-sharp tongue and a temperament to match, Piers has little patience for fools and even less tolerance for sentiment. He is eccentric, forceful, and a loner by nature, his brusqueness serving as a shield against further heartbreak. Yet, beneath his bark lies a man far more complex than anyone including himself, truly realizes.
Following a series of events, in order to protect her reputation and solve a delicate problem, she is sent off to marry Piers, the man whose bad temper is legendary and whose injury has made him the subject of cruel whispers. The set-up is delicious: she is the beauty, and he the beast, cloistered away in his Welsh castle. What neither of them anticipates is the irresistible spark that flares from the very start.
What unfolds between Linnet and Piers is a battle of wills wrapped in sparkling banter, unexpected tenderness, and a sensuality that takes both by surprise. Piers may try to approach matters clinically, but Linnet brings him to his knees with her warmth, humor, and fearless approach to love. Their dynamic is captivating precisely because it is not easy; Linnet challenges Piers at every turn, and he, in turn, forces her to see the strength in her own vulnerability. The story builds not just on attraction but on the deeper fears each must face: hers of rejection and his of being unworthy of love.
I adored everything about this book, Piers, Linnet, her crazy family, the lust and love between Piers and Linnet, and how she brings the formidable Piers to his very knees. The humor, much of it coming from Linnet’s outrageous family and Piers’ cutting wit, had me laughing out loud in many places, while the romance was swoon-worthy without losing its emotional bite.
I loved how Eloisa James wrote Linnet as unafraid of her desires, and how Piers, the man who thought himself untouchable, ends up enslaved to the very emotions he tried to dismiss. Their relationship is the kind where the supposed teacher becomes the student, and it was glorious to watch it all unfold. And the epilogue? Absolutely swoonworthy. The perfect bow on a romance that I know I will carry with me for a long time.
Recommended for: readers who love historical romance or romance in general, witty banter, strong heroines, and brooding yet brilliant heroes who need to be taken down a peg (or two).
Final Verdict: When Beauty Tamed the Beast is every bit as exquisite as the glowing reviews promised; funny, sensual, deeply emotional, and perfectly executed. An unforgettable romance that deserves every bit of its praise.
Favorite Quotes
“Tell us who fathered that child, and your father will demand marriage. No one below a prince would dare to refuse him.” Without pausing for breath, she swung back to her brother-in-law. “You might have to fight a duel, Cornelius. I suppose you have pistols somewhere in this house, don’t you? Didn’t you threaten to fight one with Lord Billetsford years ago?” “After finding him in bed with Rosalyn,” Linnet’s father said. He didn’t even sound mournful, just matter-of-fact. “New bed; we’d had it only a week or two.” “My sister had many passions,” Zenobia said fondly. “I thought you just said she was white as snow!” the viscount snapped back. “None of them touched her soul! She died in a state of grace.”
“I think we have a more interesting connection than parental ineptitude,” Piers said. He switched his cane from his right to his left. She waited, just waited. A hand brushed by her cheek, curled into her hair. Still, she waited, without saying a word. It felt as if the whole world waited, the sounds of the stable, the noise of Gavan’s unsteady footsteps walking down the corridor, the occasional stamp of a horse’s hoof, the creaking wood . . . it all faded before the intent look in his eyes. “Your eyes—” she said, but he cut off her words. His lips were like brandy, like an intoxication that swept down her back and stole her breath away.
Linnet was having a hard time keeping herself within the bounds of ladylike behavior. She wanted to touch Piers, to speak only to him, to smile at him in unmistakable invitation. She was in the grip of ravening hunger, as if lust were the only emotion in her body.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: Standalone Publisher: Harlequin Hero: Rafaello Grazzini Heroine: Glory Little Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: November 02, 2001 Started On: June 12, 2024 Finished On: June 16, 2024
Lynne Graham’s Rafaello’s Mistress is a classic Harlequin romance brimming with passion, angst, and the kind of emotional intensity that makes Ms. Grahams’s books so addictive. The story revolves around Glory Little, a young woman whose past entanglement with the powerful and devastatingly handsome Rafaello Grazzini left her scarred in more ways than one. Years later, their paths cross again when desperation forces Glory to seek his help, only to find herself bound once more by the dangerous allure of the man she had once loved.
Rafaello is the kind of hero Graham excels at creating; commanding, arrogant, and emotionally complex. He is a man who wields control effortlessly, and yet beneath that steely exterior lies a vulnerability he refuses to admit. His reappearance in Glory’s life isn’t without an edge; he has long believed she betrayed him years earlier, taking money in exchange for ending their relationship.
That sense of betrayal has festered into a need for revenge, driving his low opinion of her and fueling his determination to assert control over their renewed connection. Layered over this are complicated family ties that adds another dimension to his mistrust and makes their entanglement even more fraught.
As such, it is not far fetched for their shared history to have resulted in misunderstandings and half-truths, and much of the conflict later on is fueled by the mistakes and manipulations of those around them. Rafaello’s belief in Glory’s supposed betrayal colors every interaction, creating sparks of both fury and passion.
What makes this story so compelling is not just the clash of wills, but the revelation of family secrets and the complex web of ties that bind them together. The more the truth unravels, the more layered Rafaello becomes as a character, moving beyond the archetypal alpha into something deeper.
I loved the humor woven into this story; it lightened the heavy emotions and gave both Rafaello and Glory moments of unexpected warmth. The sexual tension between them is electric, with explosive kisses and encounters that keep the pages flying. What stood out most was how nuanced his characterization turned out to be. Instead of a one-dimensional domineering hero, Ms. Graham delivers a man whose contradictions and vulnerabilities make him all the more magnetic.
Told entirely from Glory’s perspective, the book gives the heroine’s voice center stage, and I found that choice made the story even more powerful. Seeing Rafaello only through her eyes adds to the mystery of his emotions, making his actions all the more intense when his true feelings come through.
Recommended for: readers who love angsty, passionate romances with complex heroes, strong but vulnerable heroines, and a shared past that demands resolution.
Final Verdict: A fiery and emotionally charged romance, Rafaello’s Mistress is elevated by Rafaello’s surprisingly complex characterization, delivering the kind of layered love story that lingers.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Avon Hero: Major Baron Nathaniel Cain Heroine: Katharine Louise Weston Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: October 01, 1984 Started On: February 26, 2024 Finished On: March 01, 2024
For Kit, Cain no longer had a name. He was the quintessential man, fierce and demanding. And for Cain, the mysterious veiled creature in his arms was everything that a woman should be . . . but never was.
Set in the turbulent aftermath of the American Civil War, Just Imagine is a story that brims and boils over with grit, passion, and emotional conflict. It starts with revenge and resentment but blossoms into something profoundly moving anchored by two characters whose hearts are just as stubborn as their wills.
At its core is Katharine Louise Weston, known to most as Kit, an eighteen-year-old Southern firebrand determined to reclaim the only thing she has left in the world: her family’s South Carolina plantation, Risen Glory. Disguised as a boy, she travels to New York to kill the man who legally holds her inheritance; Major Baron Nathaniel Cain, a Union war hero with a guarded heart and secrets of his own.
From the moment Kit storms into Cain’s life, their dynamic crackles with tension. She is wild, unrefined, and utterly unrepentant about who she is. Having grown up neglected by her father and stepmother, Kit shaped herself into someone fierce and independent, more at ease in britches and boots than in silks and frills. Her resistance to femininity, and everything it represents, is both heartbreaking and empowering. And yet, over the course of the novel, to witness her reluctant and powerful awakening—not just into womanhood, but into self-awareness, vulnerability, and eventually, love gave this book the vivaciousness it delivers.
Cain is one of those heroes who walks into your heart, breaks everything in sight, and leaves you aching in the best way. A man who grew up emotionally starved, abandoned by his mother and brutalized by a broken father, Cain learned early on to mistrust love and to guard his emotions behind a wall of indifference. His war heroism, his reputation, and his past with women are all defense mechanisms masking a man starving for connection. Kit forces him to confront all the things he has spent a lifetime burying. He doesn’t want to feel, but she makes him feel—and that is what both scares and saves him.
Kit wants her land, her independence, and maybe even her place in Cain’s life; but she doesn’t know how to give love without turning it into a war. Cain wants Kit, but he is terrified of becoming his father; twisted by obsession and broken by a woman’s power over him. Theirs is not a romance of softness. It is a fierce, combustible thing, made up of sharp words, stolen moments, aching silences, and the kind of love that both wounds and heals.
What I loved most was how messy this love story is, in all the right ways. There is no instant transformation or neat resolution to all that takes place in the story as it evolves. From their initial clash of wits when Kit is a vulnerable eighteen to when she returns three years later, schooled on how to be a woman, but achingly vulnerable in a lot of ways and what ensues; all of it is real, raw, and unrefined in the best way.
Kit and Cain make mistakes as any headstrong couple is bound to do when they are “forced” into situations beyond their control. They lash out. They hurt each other. But underneath it all is a slow, undeniable shift: a giving way, a reaching out, and finally a surrendering of pride. Even their intimacy carries this duality; full of hunger, but ringed with emotional barriers they dare not cross. The tension simmers throughout the novel until it breaks with heartbreaking clarity and unexpected tenderness.
Another aspect that I also loved was the rich historical backdrop, the sharp social commentary, and the compelling secondary romance between Sophronia and Magnus, whose lives are intertwined with that of the main protagonists. Perhaps, the most shocking reveal of the story is related to that of Sophronia and that too added much richness to the story
Just Imagine is a story that made me cry, not just for the pain Cain and Kit carry, but for the beauty of watching them find their way to each other. It reminded me of why I fell in love with romance reading in the first place: for the epic battles between the heart and soul, the push and pull of strong characters shaped by a world that demands they give up their pride, and for the quiet, powerful surrender of love that changes everything.
Recommended for: Readers who love enemies-to-lovers, slow-burn historical romance, emotionally tormented heroes, wild-hearted heroines, post-Civil War Southern settings, and love stories where the angst is real and the payoff is ultimately worth it.
Final Verdict: A raw, passionate, and unforgettable romance; Kit and Cain burn with fury and longing making me ache, laugh, and cry. A true masterpiece by Susan Elizabeth Phillips.
Favorite Quotes
Their eyes locked, and he drew nearer. Even before he touched her, she felt the heat of his skin. “We both know this has been between us ever since the day you came here. It’s time we put an end to it so we can get on with the rest of our lives.” Temptation whickered. He brushed her cheek with his finger and spoke softly. “I’m going to have you now, Kit Weston.”
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: Nameless Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Seth Thomas Heroine: Erin Marshall Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Published On: February 08, 2014 Started On: December 04, 2023 Finished On: December 15, 2023
The Nameless book series by Claire Kent is told in three separate installments (though I read it all together from the boxed set), and I was hooked right from the very start. Published in February of 2014, this series makes me so glad to have rediscovered the name under which Zannie Adams is writing (the pen name under which she does not write any longer, the reason why I lost her for a couple of years), because this is as good contemporary romance gets in my opinion!
Seth Thomas, once a troubled and sullen youth who was raised by a distant grandfather, is now a successful and ruthless lawyer, viewed by many as an unrepentant womanizer. Known as the “bulldozer”, he is a man who effortlessly commands attention with his confidence and charisma, but deep inside hides the emotional scars from his upbringing.
Erin Marshall is a judicial assistant in her hometown, who transforms from a shy bookworm to a strong, independent woman following a failed marriage. The scars left over makes her value her independence something fierce, and as a result, has a cynical view of romance in general.
Erin and Seth first crosses paths when Seth is forced to move to Erin’s hometown to live with his distant relative Mac. Erin being the bookworm she is, spends countless hours at the library, where she comes across Seth, a solitary figure browsing books on various topics. A distant memory of a shared encounter is all that remains as both move into adulthood and it is Mac’s funeral years later, that brings these two back together.
The indomitable Seth is caught in a moment of emotional weakness, and it is that opening which allows both Erin and Seth to come together in intense passion that neither can deny. Weeks later, it is a shocking discovery that leads Erin to seek out Seth – that she is now carrying his child.
Erin and Seth takes on a pragmatic approach to the pregnancy, where Erin cautions that all she wants from him is to be as involved as he wants to be – and that marriage and a lifetime of togetherness is not what she seeks. However, given the strong sexual chemistry between the two, their physical relationship serves to be one of the key reasons why the two come together, leading to moments of emotional vulnerability.
Given Erin’s past and her wariness when it comes to losing control, the conflict that arises from Seth’s tendency to go into alpha mode is jarring for both of them. While Seth grapples with his desire to be more involved without fully committing emotionally, Erin finds herself becoming warier when Seth starts becoming more dependable.
With both Seth and Erin carrying their individual emotional trauma, the healing that they both undergo comes from within and through their shared experiences. The unexpected pregnancy serves as the catalyst for their relationship to move beyond a memorable one-night stand. As both of them spend more time together, each finds in the other, sides to their character which they never would have witnessed otherwise, allowing them to see beyond their initial impressions of each other. While Erin is a tougher nut to crack than Seth at some points, it is Seth’s gentle and protective side that proves to be the healing that Erin needs, to finally let go of the shackles that has bound her since she walked away from her marriage.
To say that I loved this story would be an understatement. I loved both Erin and Seth in equal doses. Erin’s journey from the shy, bookish girl to an assertive, independent woman made me like her in spades. Her past trauma while it makes her cautious to a fault, is one that women can relate to, especially given her determination to protect her independence. We have all seen how emotionally scarring relationships can make a woman lose her sense of worth. Being able to rise above all of that is no easy feat and that made me root for her big time. Erin is also witty and unflinchingly honest, making her a heroine who is both grounded and self-aware, my favorite kind if you ask me.
Seth *breathes deeply* is a hero who is intriguing, commanding, and compelling in a way that makes the female reader sit up and take notice. As romance readers, we all love the emotionally distant hero who guards his heart possessively. It is not just Seth’s childhood that makes him wary, but his adult relationships as well which had soured him of any notions of happily ever afters. Seth is sexy to a fault, delivering one of the best sex scenes I have had the fortune to read in a while.
Together, Seth and Erin a dynamite – in bed and out of it. They have a way of challenging each other’s world views, with Erin challenging Seth to confront his emotional walls and Seth encouraging Erin to trust and rely on someone without losing her sense of independence. Their witty banter adds onto the spice levels of this romance, and Ms. Kent delivers a hefty dose of the panty melting variety of sex scenes, which I definitely could not get enough of. I believe that Erin and Seth resonated so deeply with me because they are both imperfect, realistic, and deeply human. The challenges that both of them go through, as individuals and together – made this a romance worth sinking into.
I especially loved getting to see Seth and Erin through different stages of their lives from when Erin develops a teeny tiny crush on the teenager Seth, to an adulthood reunion, a pregnancy discovery, and transitioning into parenthood. Towards the last installment, getting to see Erin and Seth close to their fifties, navigating life together and still so into each other was beautiful in a way that is indescribable. The entire story being told in the third person from Erin’s perspective makes it just better! In my opinion Seth, is the ultimate book boyfriend.
If you are looking for a transformative experience in a contemporary romance, look no further – Seth and Erin’s journey resonates in every way that matters. Definitely recommended!
Final Verdict: Combining fiery chemistry, poignant emotional depth, and exquisite storytelling, Nameless by Claire Kent is a must-read for fans of sensual contemporary romance!
Favorite Quotes
Leaning her face forward, she pressed her lips into his. He was warm and solid beneath her, and he made a little grunt in his throat. He tasted and smelled like Scotch, and also something fainter, more masculine. When she relaxed her mouth on his, he murmured against her lips, “What was that?” “That,” she pronounced, pleased she was thinking so clearly, “was a kiss.”
Seth, looking slick and professional, stood up to greet her. He gave her a cool smile, shook her hand with a courteous, “Good afternoon,” and then gestured her into a leather chair next to the desk. This was the Seth she’d expected today—not the warmly clever, rumpled man she’d fucked several weeks ago. Erin sat down. Took a few deep breaths to dispel the nausea. Summoned up her courage and hoped she wouldn’t start babbling. “So,” he said slowly, giving her a sharp look and leaning back in his chair, “I can’t figure out what you’re after. A job?” He looked so confident, so smug, that Erin’s sense of irony kicked in. The edge of amusement did a lot to calm her nerves, so her voice was clear and crisp as she replied, “Actually, no. I’m very happy with my job and have no desire to work in a law firm. Although I certainly appreciate your unyielding belief in your own importance.”
His gaze crawled up from her thighs to her hips to her belly to her breasts. When he finally reached her face, she saw that his expression was oddly hungry. The wild primitive glint she’d caught earlier in the hall had returned, and it both exhilarated her and made her a little anxious. “Are you sure it can be this simple?” she asked. “This whole thing is complicated enough without making it any worse.” His hands slid up to comb her hair back from her face. “It’s just sex. We’ve had it before. You aren’t secretly in love with me, are you?” “God, no. You?” “Not even close.”
Erin couldn’t seem to stop. She barely even recognized that she was clawing at his shoulders and making the most ridiculous sounds of effort and pleasure she’d ever heard herself make. Barely noticed that she was sweating now and that the flesh of her ass and her breasts were jiggling wildly with their motion. Just needed to feel more of him. Just needed to release this excruciating tension again. “Fuck, Erin,” Seth rasped, his eyes open now and staring down at her body. “Fuck, Erin, you’re incredible. But you’re killing me.” His jaw clenched tightly, and he released an agonized groan as he pumped. “Slow down or I’ll lose it.” “Can’t,” she choked. “Can’t. Need more, Seth. More.”
Feeling both her confidence and her enthusiasm return immediately, Erin adjusted herself more comfortably beside him and pulled him into another kiss. He sat on the side of the bed now, and she had her legs drawn up under her body. But they managed to share a very effective kiss, and Erin didn’t pull away from him, even when he released her lips. She ran one hand down his firm chest to his flat belly and then to the bulge of his erection once more. As she cupped it lightly, she trailed kisses across his jaw line. To his high cheekbone. And finally to his ear. She fluttered her tongue. Seth bucked his pelvis up involuntarily into her hand.
He pulled off his loosened bow tie and started to work on his shirt. Erin watched and tried to be patient, but her entire body now felt on the verge of eruption. Her breasts tingled torturously, so she cupped them with her hands and tried to chaff her tight nipples through the thin fabric of her chemise. The stimulation caused her to arch her back a little, and, when she focused once more on Seth, she saw that he’d stopped midway through taking off his shirt and was staring at her dazedly. The look in his eyes sent another jolt of sensation down to the throbbing ache between her legs. So, as he watched, she slid her hand from her breast, past the curve of her belly, then dipped it under the fluttering skirt of her chemise until she could slip it in between her legs. She wasn’t wearing panties, so nothing was in her way. Seth’s entire body looked painfully tense as he watched her stroking herself. Finally, he rasped, “Getting a head start?”
Erin looked at him over her shoulder. “I don’t mind,” she said. “I’ve never been a fan of excessive control.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He shifted slightly and his hand settled on her belly. “But the lack of control would be counterproductive in this particular instance. We’re supposed to be taking care of your needs, aren’t we?” “Yes,” Erin allowed, feeling strangely shy for some unaccountable reason. “But maybe we can tackle your needs at the same time.” His hand slid up over her breasts and then to her face, and he pushed some of the damp hair off her cheeks. “Very kind of you, but my needs aren’t something you want to fully tackle.”
Seeing and hearing him so uncontrolled was almost as thrilling as her own pleasure. Erin reached behind her thighs until her hand found and closed around his balls. “Fuck,” he grunted, as she squeezed once very lightly. He was pushing more than thrusting now, and Erin knew he was right on the edge. So she squeezed again, harder this time. He froze. Then his whole body throbbed, from his cock to his hands on her flesh. He choked on an incoherent sound as he fell into release.
Her body was tensing up in preparation for climax, but she turned her head as far back as she could. “Seth. Seth…” She tried to put into words what she wanted. Couldn’t. Couldn’t possibly. She was feeling too much. Too deep, too tight, too full, too stretched. Too much. “Erin.” Seth pulled up his shoulders until his weight rested on his bent elbow. From this position, he leaned over to where she was trying to look over her shoulder at him. He was able to capture her lips in a kiss. It wasn’t a skillful or a controlled kiss. Erin was far beyond concentrating, and she couldn’t do more than press her lips against his and gasp into his mouth. His lips clung to hers hungrily, though, when her pleasure finally peaked. And he was still kissing her when she shook through her orgasm.
For a moment, she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes: something deep and molten and unspeakable. Then she couldn’t see anything at all. Because he was kissing her, and her eyes had fallen closed. Her breasts pressed into the hard line of his chest, and her hands wound around his neck before she could begin to stop them. Her tongue darted out to meet his, and her mouth became urgent and hungry.
Yeah,” she gasped, realizing he was on the verge of coming but was trying to fight against it. “Yeah, Seth. You come too.” At her words, he stared up at her face—just a few inches from his—and their eyes met. His eyes were wild, feral, almost pained in their need. But he held her gaze as he let out a muted roar and jerked his pelvis up into her a few more times. He came, and she saw the transformation on his face, in his eyes. The tension breaking and a flood of raw pleasure overwhelming him. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, and the pleasure Erin felt from watching him almost rivaled the lingering feel of her own orgasm.
When Erin looked up blurrily, trying to focus through the rising haze of her deepening pleasure, she saw more in his expression than she’d ever seen before. There seemed to be everything there—a rich, overwhelming flood of feeling—all of it visible, tangible in his gaze. All of the feelings he always suppressed, that he hid behind his cool control. More than he’d ever admitted to. More than she’d ever dreamed possible. All of it—there—in his eyes. Erin closed her own eyes against it, the depth and magnitude of the emotion terrifying her. She wondered how she’d ever thought this man was cold and unfeeling. Wondered if anyone else had ever seen what she’d just seen in Seth—all the raw, naked power of it.
With a thick, helpless groan, he opened his eyes and started moving again. The thick silence of his breathing built into rough, animalistic grunts in time with his rhythm. Erin felt like the whole world was shaking with their motion. She felt helpless, out of control. Until the rough friction of his drives inside her and the jostling of her breasts, ass, and clit coalesced into a new kind of orgasm: one deeper, more intense, not far removed from pain. Matching the rich, swelling ache in her heart.
“Love,” Erin cried out, feeling hot and wild and erotic and free and at the same time strangely secure. Her hips pumped desperately, trying to intensify the friction, and she huffed out a series of sounds to their rhythm, sounding like, “Uh huh.” “Erin,” Seth rasped, the one word a hoarse guttural. His head tossed with a jerk as he tried to hold himself back. Obviously lost the effort as he finally released a hoarse, desperate moan. He pushed into her a few final times, his thrusts hard, choppy, and forceful. “Love…you,” he grunted, before he came with a long shuddering breath.
When his chest was bare, she caressed the hard, smooth lines of his shoulders and ribs. Then reached down to the button of his jeans. With a little fumbling and adjusting from both of them, his hard cock was free and accessible. She rolled her thumb over the tip, making him grunt and buck up into her hand. “Erin.” She gazed down at his tense face and sprawled body. Felt a surge of love, power, and possessiveness overwhelm her.
All of the gathered urgency at her center pushed her to ride him for real, to claim the aching orgasm that was waiting for her. But she kept her motion slow, minimal, increasing their need and extending their pleasure. “Erin,” Seth choked, one of his arms reaching out to fumble for purchase on the cushion beside him, as he visibly struggled to suppress his drive to thrust, to claim her, to fuck her. His face twisted, and his pelvis almost squirmed beneath her rocking. “Fuck, Erin.” “Yeah,” Erin breathed, searching out his lips in a hungry, clumsy kiss. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, stroking into it in a rhythmic, instinctive pattern. Seth grunted, as he buried the fingers of one hand in her hair.
With a desperate sound, she found Seth’s mouth again. Needed to feel him. Love him. Be as close as she could possibly make him. She was kissing him hungrily, frantically, when her orgasm finally broke. She didn’t pull away from his mouth as her body started to convulse. She heard Seth make a helpless, choking sound into her mouth as Erin whimpered with the waves of pleasure. But she kept her arms around him. Kept kissing him. And was still kissing him when she felt him come too. His hips pushed up into her clenching muscles, and his arms tightened around her so suddenly she grunted in surprise. Then she felt the tension in his body release itself. Heard him moan—long, low, and guttural. Felt the pulsing of his cock against the tight clasp of her body. Felt him come in short spasms inside her.
Arching his neck in effort, Seth stared down at her twisting body and contorted face. “Erin,” he said thickly, squeezing the flesh of her hips in his hands as he rocked into her. “Erin, baby, can you come?” “Think so.” She shamelessly shook her body to get the kind of friction she needed. “Just stay…right there.” He did. He didn’t thrust. Just held his cock in position and kept pushing in tight rhythm against her g-spot. He was coiled so tensely he was shuddering with the pressure, but he managed to hold them in position as the rich pleasure gathered between her legs.
“Erin,” Seth muttered, his eyes almost agonized as he held onto his control. “Beautiful. Beautiful. Missed you so much.” She released a few loud sobs—the flooding of her heart mingling with the intense physical sensations—then she cried out a frantic, “Seth! Seth!” She felt the pleasure finally erupt inside her, sending out waves and spasms of overwhelming sensation.
“Seth. Oh God, again.” Her body seemed to have lost its connection with her mind, and—despite the blurred chaos of her thoughts—her body still knew what it wanted. “Yes,” Seth bit out, clearly on the edge of his control. “Yes. One more, baby. Come for me once more.” She was going to. It was happening even now. Erin sobbed with pleasure and effort and need, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the overwhelming sensations. Her breasts were swinging wildly with their primitive motion, and she’d tossed her head so much that her damp hair was covering her face. As the final orgasm build up inside her, she kept choking out sounds that were louder and louder. Tried to stifle the noise. Couldn’t. Felt the world start to shudder all around her. Then she fell over the edge, her body jerking in clumsy desperation as she tried to hold herself upright on trembling limbs.
Just as she was on the edge, not quite coming but too far to draw it back, Seth raised his head from between her legs. Before she could react, he’d moved over her, burying his hard cock inside her and rearing up above her on straightened arms. The sight of his strong body, intense, hungry expression, and familiar face all combined with the sudden sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock. The orgasm that had already formed erupted with shattering intensity.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: First Person, Single Series: Escorted Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Ander Lourdes | Alexander Milton Heroine: Lori Addison Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Published On: December 01, 2020 Started On: November 18, 2023 Finished On: November 21, 2023
Escorted by Claire Kent, first published in December 2020, introduces readers to the complex and unusual romance that buds to life between 32-year-old Ander Lourdes, a professional escort, and 26-year-old Lori Addison, a romance novelist in search of her first intimate experience. From the very start, Ms. Kent does an excellent job out of drawing readers in. Being told entirely in the first person from Lori’s point of view, gives Escorted an enigmatic edge, adding more nuance to the story than would have been otherwise.
The story begins with Lori, being the practical person she is on the sidelines of her career as a romance author, finds the only logical solution to getting rid of her virginity is to hire someone who is experienced in the matter. Little does she know when hires 32 year old Ander Lourdes to be her escort, that her entire life would be turned upside down, and that her innate curiosity itself when it comes to the exotic man that Ander turns out to be, would be her undoing.
Ander is a man who is accustomed to separating his emotions from his work. Always putting the needs of his clients first, Ander is a perfectionist in what he does, and he knows how to deliver, with ten years of experience to his name. He initially approaches his sessions with Lori with the same cool detachment he does for all his clients, intent on giving Lori the unforgettable experience that she craves. It is through Lori’s eyes that readers have to gauge every flicker of emotion that Ander feels and exhibits, and that keeps the reader on the edge, craving more of Ander, just like Lori does with each and every encounter between them.
The chemistry between Ander and Lori is electrifying, even from the first. Ms. Kent masterfully builds the sexual tension that evolves gradually, drawing readers into each layered interaction between the two, which makes for an emotionally satisfying experience along with the high from the sizzle. What starts as a transaction begins to feel less business-like as Ander and Lori spend more time together. Lori’s inquisitive nature, coupled with the sexual intimacy that builds between them starts to bring their emotional guards down, and thus starts to crumble each of their carefully erected walls. It is Ms. Kent’s writing here that shines—she presents the journey between Anders and Lori as it evolves from being strangers to lovers with a sincerity that feels both raw and genuine.
The story’s strength lies in its character development. Ander, with his stoic exterior and painful secrets, begins to grapple with emotions he has spent years repressing. Ander’s brokenness, his guarded heart, and his strained relationship with his father all play into his character’s complexity which leaves the reader hurting and wanting to hurt a certain someone badly. Lori’s journey is also one of self-discovery, her experiences with Ander teaching her not only about intimacy, but about the courage to pursue genuine connection and exhibit confidence in other aspects of her life.
The way Ms. Kent entwines the raw intensity of their physical encounters with emotional growth is nothing short of masterful, and that is what kept me glued to the pages, never tiring of what takes place between the two. The way that she manages to make each sexual encounter meaningful (and there is a LOT of them littered across the pages), not to mention impactful and erotic, was just amazing to me as someone who has read a lot of great and also her fair share of not so great erotic novels.
It is Lori’s deeply empathetic nature and perhaps her career as a romance author that allows her to see beyond what Ander presents to the rest of the world. The path that Lori and Ander takes towards their happily ever after is as unique as is this story – from lovers to friends to lovers back again. How Ms. Kent brought together elements of raw passion, heartache, pain, and angst to deliver an explosive and mind-bending read will continue to amaze me in the years to come.
Escorted is a true masterpiece, a romance that goes beyond the expected norm, and that is my key takeaway from this experience. Ms. Kent does not shy away from the complexities of a relationship like Ander and Lori’s, and in doing so, she gives us readers a story that is as honest as it is captivating. If Ms. Kent had chosen to write about Ander and Lori’s entire lives, I would have kept on reading, with zero qualms.
For fans of contemporary erotic romance, Escorted is a compelling read that handles unconventional themes with a deft touch. With beautifully written prose, intense character chemistry, and a satisfying conclusion, Escorted is a memorable journey from start to finish.
Definitely and absolutely recommend this gem to readers of romance who love a good erotica with emotional depth!
Final Verdict: Escorted is a tour de force by Claire Kent, making a trope that is extremely challenging feel realistic and heartfelt; managed to occupy my every thought when I had to force myself to turn away from the story to attend to life.
Favorite Quotes
She walked him to the door, where they looked at each other for a minute. Then Lori asked one final question. “How many virgins have you had sex with?” Ander glanced away, and she could tell he was trying to compose the best answer. “The truth,” she said. “No pretending. How many.” He let out a breath and met her eyes. “Just one. You’re my first.” “Oh.” She swallowed. “You’re my first too.”
“Oh, God, Ander,” she gasped, her head jerking to the side as she felt a climax tightening inside her already. “I need to come so bad.” He made a strange sound. A grunt, or something. And then he pulled his fingers out of her wet, clinging channel. Before she could whine about the loss of penetration, he’d replaced it with his cock. He slid into her with a smooth, hard stroke, and she bit back a cry of pleasure at the tight, tantalizing feel of him inside her. She managed to look back over her shoulder at Ander. He was straddling her thighs and holding her bottom high enough to allow his access. But Lori’s upper body was flattened on the bed, and she felt helpless and deeply sexy at the same time. She clawed at the bedding and moved a pillow lower so she could bury her face into it if she felt the need to scream.
She thought she would just enjoy watching him come, but the shaking of their bodies and the way his cock drove inside her pushed her into climax once more. “Oh God,” she gasped, clawing at his neck and shoulders. She couldn’t stop, even though she knew she was leaving angry scratches on his skin. He grunted, and she read it as a question “Coming again.” Her body tightened up and she tried to breathe as he’d taught her to. She couldn’t even begin to take a full breath. She managed to wrap her legs around him, squeezing him with her arms and her legs. Her orgasm was on the edge of cresting, and Ander’s hot, shuddering, urgent body felt delicious against hers. She cried out breathlessly as the tension broke inside her, and Ander let go at the same time. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, she was conscious of Ander releasing a loud, guttural sound, just at her ear. His hips jerked and his body seemed to pulse as his own climax ripped through him.
Finally, he met her eyes again. “Lori, you don’t have to be nice. You pay me for my services.” She almost sputtered in outrage. “What the hell does that mean? Of course, I have to be nice. You’re a human being, aren’t you? What the fuck did your father do to you to make you think you don’t deserve to be treated with dignity and humanity?” She hadn’t really meant to voice that last question. Her volatile feelings and confusion got the best of her. But she had voiced it. Almost spit it out in his face. It finally broke the iron control Ander had been using to rein in his feelings. He turned on her abruptly, stepping forward, pressing her back against the wall with his intense presence rather than force. “Lori,” he began, his voice thick and low. He planted one hand on the wall next to her head. “I fuck you. You pay me. That’s our arrangement. That doesn’t entitle you to invade my privacy, demand to see the ‘real me,’ or pry into whatever motivations I might have for doing what I do.”
“I’m not mad,” he said again, although his entire body belied his words. He was coiled so tightly he was practically shuddering. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his eyes had ignited. Absurdly, Lori felt her body respond. She knew it was entirely inappropriate. They were in the middle of a very bizarre argument, and sex should be the last thing on her mind. But he looked so intense, almost passionate. For once, he seemed to be expressing something real—with his body language if not with his words.
“For the fourth time,” Ander rasped, still speaking into her ear. “I’m not mad.” She shifted restlessly against the wall, dying for some sort of friction against her skin. Her squirming caused her to brush up against Ander. She felt something. Something that shocked her so much her mouth fell open. Her lower belly had brushed against the front of Ander’s trousers. He was hard. He must have seen her reaction. He must know that she knew he was aroused. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way, though. He’d pulled back enough to look her in the eye and ask hoarsely, “Tell me why you’ve continued to schedule engagements with me.” She was too confused and overwhelmed and turned-on and shaky to even begin to make up a lie. So she gasped out the truth. “Because I like having sex with you.” He nodded, as if he’d known she would say that. “So why do you keep making this more complicated than it is?”
“Lori,” he rasped. She didn’t know if it was a question or an expression of pleasure. She answered instinctively. “It feels so good. You come,” she panted. “I want you to come.” His breathing accelerated even more as his whole body started to shake. She’d never experienced anything like it. All the shuddering angst that he’d been trying to stifle earlier seemed on the verge of imploding in her arms. Her eyes blurred over and her nerve endings buzzed with pleasure. She wasn’t working up toward any climax, but the whole thing felt like one long high. Ander arched his neck forward again, lowering his mouth once more to the crook of her neck. She cried out loudly when she felt his teeth bite down into her flesh. Then his whole body pulsed and jerked as he came with an extended guttural sound.
Sucking in air as she came down, she started to claw at Ander’s ass, trying to move him into position, still hungry for more. He adjusted his body to align his cock at her entrance. Then, with a pitch of his hips, he pushed his cock inside her. She arched up again as he entered her. She was tight from nearly a month without sex. “Fuck,” he muttered. He was bracing himself with his hands on the bed, and his face had jerked the side. She wanted him to look at her again. Wanted to see the expression in his eyes. “All right?” she managed to ask. He straightened his neck and opened his eyes. Made a sound that might have been a choked laugh. “Yeah. You ready?”
Lori closed her eyes. She had no intention of opening up about this, but she heard herself saying the words anyway. “I’ve always felt second-best. You know, always in the shadow of someone else. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that I was in love with a guy all through high school and college who didn’t love me back. And this thing with Phil kind of made me feel that way again. Like I was being stupid for expecting the hot guy to fall in love with me.” Her voice cracked a little as she concluded, “I guess I keep waiting for someone to choose me, to want me, over all the other women he could have.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind. About scheduling engagements with me.” Something softened in her chest at his slightly stilted words. Maybe it was relief she felt. She was so glad that he seemed to enjoy his engagements with her. Obviously, this wasn’t some sort of fated romance, but at least she was a little more to him than just a job. He seemed to like her well enough, and he didn’t mind having sex with her. She felt like that was quite an accomplishment, given her complete lack of experience. “Me too.” She watched him walk down the hall to the elevator. Lean, upright, sleek, and urban. Infinitely experienced. And somehow wounded.
Lori was panting hoarsely as her body slumped forward. Ander fell with her, and for a moment his hot, sated weight rested on top of her again. He panted too. On each exhale, he made a sound like a moan. And Lori would be perfectly happy for them never to move from this position, from this visceral satisfaction.
He walked silently to the bathroom. She heard the water run in the sink. And she didn’t hear it go off. After a minute, a jolt of sharp curiosity propelled Lori out of her sated stupor. She climbed off the bed and hurried over toward the bathroom, determined to find out what Ander did in there when he took extra time. The door was halfway opened, so she could peer in. Ander stood in front of the sink full of running water. Ander was leaning over, bracing himself with both hands on the counter. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes closed, and his head bent. His face and head were streaming wet, from where he’d evidently splashed water on his face. And he appeared to be taking deep breaths. Lori gaped for a minute. He looked exhausted. Overwhelmed. And strangely aching.
After a long time, he finally started to shift beneath her. His face had been pressed against her neck and her hair, but he lifted it and loosened his arms. Reluctantly, Lori pulled back, peering up at him with trembling lips and stinging eyes. Something about the haunted emptiness of his gaze changed as he saw her face. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips along one of her cheeks. Then stared down at the moisture from her tears on his skin. “Are these for me?” he breathed, sounding either astonished or awed. She choked back another little sob at his inability to believe that she would care enough for him to cry. “Ander,” she pleaded, taking his face in both of her shaky hands. “Please let me help.” With a guttural sound, he tightened his arms around her again, but this time he found her lips in a desperate, hungry kiss.
She arched her spine as her pleasure started to crest. Instead of closing all the way, her eyes flew open on a taken breath. And, in that rawest moment, she saw everything in Ander’s eyes. Heat and need and helplessness and rage and desire and loss and primitive power. All of it, there, in his eyes. And she knew—she knew—he needed this even more than she did. She knew that this was his only channel, his only outlet, his only lifeline against the desperate turmoil of his pain. He wasn’t just finding pleasure or escape in her body. He was finding something lost in himself.
“Ander!” she gasped, as one of his hands slipped between her thighs to press against the place she was most hot and wet. Her back arched as she tried to ride his hand with embarrassing abandon. Ander raised his face to stare at her for a moment, his eyes hot, hungry and almost primitive. Then he groaned and leaned forward to mouth her throat. Without warning, he bit down hard. Lori came against his hand with a choked cry.
As they moved together, they held gazes, and she saw everything she needed to know in his eyes. She had no idea how she’d gone so long without seeing, without knowing, without realizing the kind of man Ander really was. He wasn’t a cool man, despite the pretense he put on. He was a passionate man who’d learned not to be. But now she saw real passion in his eyes, in his expression. And it matched the depth of passion in her own heart.
A Maldivian's Passion for Romance 