Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: First Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Ethan Stone Heroine: Taylor Larson Sensuality: 3 Published On: June 06, 2019 Started On: January 10, 2022 Finished On: January 12, 2022
His sultry gaze is narrowed on my mouth as he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, so no more games. No more pretending I don’t love the way you look in this red bathing suit. No more pretending I don’t hunt for you every time you enter a room. No more pretending your wit and smart mouth aren’t the perfect match for mine.”
31 year old Ethan Stone and 22 year old Taylor Larson’s paths cross at a point in Taylor’s life in which she is feeling particularly low. Having got stuck with the bad end of the parenting deal and being forced to grow up way too quickly has taken its toll on Taylor, who is supporting her mother make ends meet until she is able to stand on her own two feet. A job setting that had turned sideways (not unexpectedly) leaves Taylor with little to no choice in a small town that has slim offerings for those who are destitute.
At the bar in which Ethan and Taylor’s paths cross, the night ends with Taylor luring Ethan into a bathroom, kissing him senseless, and stealing his wallet. Fate decides to have fun with Taylor when a new job offering turns out to be at Ethan’s newest worksite, and Taylor is hired on as his personal assistant, the icing on the cake being that they have to co-share the living quarters.
For Taylor, Ethan comes off as the coldhearted boss who is difficult to please. For Ethan, it is the only way in which he knows how to protect himself from someone who took advantage of a situation in which he was vulnerable. However, even with all that, the slow-burning heat between the two escalates to a point where neither can deny the truth any longer. And give in they do, ultimately to realize that for a shared future together, there are many hurdles that need to be crossed, the most difficult of which being Taylor’s insecurities about herself.
For me, Coldhearted Boss ended up being a sweet and hilarious read. I don’t understand why some of these books are labeled as enemies-to-lovers romances because these barely skim the surface of the trope if you ask me. The witty banter and the snark that were being tossed back and forth kept the pages turning, not to mention the sexual heat between the two which reached a crescendo at the point where I was literally at my wits end with the two.
Ethan was a great hero. I liked him for a lot of things; his dedication to what he does, his relationship with his twin sister, and how he finally owned up to his feelings for Taylor when they reached a point where he could not deny them any longer. Taylor on the other hand, has a lot of insecurities from her childhood. Being on the curvaceous side, Taylor faced a lot of unwarranted attention from men, not to mention the fact that her most formative years in high school were spent trying to be the parent for her younger sister in the absence of their mother.
Ethan was smart and intuitive enough to see Taylor for what she is worth and patient enough to let her come to the same realization on her own. That is what made me fall in love with Ethan and what for me, made this story the wonderful read it was.
Though the story was slow to pick up, once it did (and just like that), there was no stopping the fun Taylor and Ethan brought to the pages. If a bit more of the sexy times had been added to the story, it would have been much better. It was not just Ethan and Taylor that suffered through the slow-burn sexual tension this was.; us readers were right alongside with them, suffering.
Recommended for fans of mirth-filled romances that are on the sweet side!
Final Verdict: If only all bosses were like Ethan; self-assured, sexy, patient, and commanding; for that and more, Coldhearted Boss was a delight!
His hand curves around my ribcage so reverently my knees buckle, and it’s just as well because I want to be down there with him. I want to feel his broad tan chest, still bare from a day at the lake. His swim trunks are long dry and their cool material brushes against my panties as I nestle myself down onto his lap. I’m barely there for a moment before his hand slides around my back and he brings me in for a hug. A hug. An embrace that crushes me against him so tightly I think his toned arms might break me in two.
My eyes squeeze closed as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in like I’m trying to absorb him through the air, but it’s not enough. I need more. I press a chaste kiss to his neck then one below his smooth jaw, and I’m about to press another kiss to his cheek when a growl escapes from deep in his chest and he yanks me back, sealing our mouths together. A kiss that starts out hard and heavy only grows hotter. Scorching. His mouth slants over mine and I’m a hungry little minx—clawing at his skin, biting his lip, writhing against him.
He stares down with hooded eyes, nearly lost to the sight of my legs spread before him. It’s only when his fingers dig into my thigh, when a deep impatient rumble breaks free of him that I start to guide him into me the smallest bit. My eyes roll back as he starts to stretch me. He goes slow, but not because he’s unsteady or nervous. No. I’m being filled by a man who knows what a woman needs, whose bold confidence never wavers. Ethan takes it from there, capturing my knees in his hands and pushing himself inside me inch by inch until we fit together like a lock and key. Deep and full. It’s utterly unnerving, this all-consuming feeling of contentment.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance POV: First Person, Dual Series: Cocky Hero Club, Inc., #1 Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Henry James Heroine: Laila Sensuality: 3 Published On: May 23, 2021 Started On: November 26, 2021 Finished On: January 10, 2022
“Don’t play with me, Laila.” “The only thing I’m playing is the jukebox,” I reply, leaning toward him. He snatches me by the waist and pulls me against him, holding me between his knees. “I know you’re just trying to make me jealous, little girl.” “But you have no reason to be jealous. I’m not your girl—” He shuts me up with his lips against mine. I let out a muffled yelp just as his tongue slides into my mouth and I melt in his arms.
I am a fan of Sara Cate to an extent. I say to an extent because her most recent works have failed to invoke in me the kind of emotions that I came to expect from her stories from the point where I initially discovered her books. Released in May of 2021, Handsome Devil had much going for it when I encountered the blurb; huge age gap between the main protagonists, with the hero being the father of the heroine’s best friend.
Told in first person from both the male and female protagonist’s view, Handsome Devil begins when 39 year old Henry James receives a call from his 21 year old daughter Kristen that she is getting married, and that too to a guy she just met three months back. Henry’s guilt complex runs deep when it comes to his daughter since he had missed out on most of her childhood and formative years. When Henry is “forced” into taking Kristen’s best friend Laila along with him for the wedding, the forced proximity factor along the journey proves to be a test for both Laila and James in many ways.
Laila might be determined to keep the relationship with her boyfriend alive, but when the ugly reality smacks her on the face, it drags her self esteem down in a way Laila never thought possible. Given the attraction that she feels towards Jame, no matter how wrong she might perceive it to be, Laila’s rationalization is simple; might as well learn from the best about what she had been missing out.
To give credit to James, he does try in earnest to keep Laila at bay. But the reciprocation of the attraction on his part makes it impossible towards the end, and it is not long before these two start heating things up, both in their car and at motels along the way. Laila finds in James a man who has the ability and patience to fulfill her in ways that she never thought possible, while for James, Laila is the missing piece to his soul that he never saw coming.
While I enjoyed the novel, I felt that things were a bit more rushed between the main protagonists than is usual for novels from Ms. Cate. But then the story is also shorter in length than what she usually publishes. Nevertheless I enjoyed seeing both James and Laila grow into more well rounded and happier people, the resultant effect of the love and soul-deep connection that is forged to life between the two. The epilogue which shows the happy couple one year on was the icing on the cake.
Recommended for fans of age gap romances. This one features a British hero who makes your senses hum!
Final Verdict: Handsome Devil is the kind of feel good, low angst romance that many a reader would love, especially for those who love age-gap tropes!
Grabbing her face again, I kiss her right this time. Tipping her head back, her mouth instantly falls open and I slide my tongue past her teeth and into mouth, seeking out the soft friction against her tongue. This time her moan is less controlled and sweet. It comes from her gut, and it’s exactly what I’m going for. With my hands on the back of her head, I pull her closer, exploring her mouth and taking soft nibbles of her lips. She can hardly move along with me.
“Please, Henry,” she cries. Running a finger along her folds, I find her absolutely dripping with arousal, and I let out a growl. I know she wanted me on her clit, but I can’t help myself. I slowly slide a digit in, feeling the tightness around my finger, and my hips practically start rutting on their own. “Oh my God, Laila,” I moan. Pulling out, I spread the moisture through her folds and find the sensitive nub that makes her buck as I apply pressure. “Yes!” she calls as I press harder.
“Oh, Laila,” he mumbles as I enclose my lips around him. He has one hand on the wheel and the other laying gently in my hair. It slides down my back, and I get chills from the touch. When I finally take him into the back of my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet, he bunches my shirt up in his fist. “Oh fuck, Laila.” God, I love the sound of my name in his accent.
“I want you to be in control.” With his back against the headboard, his hands find my hips and he lifts me until I feel him, pressing gently against my entrance. With our eyes locked, I slowly lower myself down. My muscles stretch and clench right away, and I bite my lip as we’re met with some resistance. Before I can even hesitate for a moment, he grabs me by the back of the neck, pulling me close until his lips are on my ear. “Come on, baby. Ride my dick like I know you want to.” The low growl of his voice and his filthy, filthy words urge me on, and I let the desire in me take over.
Before I can even hesitate for a moment, he grabs me by the back of the neck, pulling me close until his lips are on my ear. “Come on, baby. Ride my dick like I know you want to.” The low growl of his voice and his filthy, filthy words urge me on, and I let the desire in me take over. Shutting off every thought of fear in my head, I slam my hips down until I’m speared by him. There is a burst of pain and burning, but I’m too distracted by the howling moan that comes out of him and the way his eyes start to roll back in his head as I move.
I happen to look up into the mirror, and our eyes meet just as he plunges in. We groan in unison. With his hands firm on my hips, he doesn’t take it as easy and slowly as he did last night. By the look in his eyes, his clenched jaw and stern brow, I know he’s about to give it rough, and I welcome it. He slams into me again and again. A warm tingle builds in the bottom of my spine, and as he picks up speed, it threatens to spill over. It’s the image of him behind me that finally sends me flying.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novella Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Maximilian Thomas William Bradley III Heroine: Lady Violet Littleton Sensuality: 3.5 Published On: June 07, 2021 Started On: January 02, 2022 Finished On: January 08, 2022
“I’ll see myself out,” she said and turned to the door. “You are not leaving until you agree never to return.” She paused and tried to remember this was for the best. Either way, win or lose, she couldn’t pursue Max like a hound after a fox forever. “I won’t return until you invite me.” Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a heated look from under her lashes. “Because you will come looking for me, Your Grace. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”
My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe is my first foray into the author’s writing and I am happy to report that this story was mesmerizing and that I loved every aspect of it.
18 year old Lady Violet Littleton falls in love with the Duke of Ravensthorpe, Maximilian Thomas William Bradley III (Max) at a tender age. At the time, it is his tenderness that catches her heart. It is only when Violet turns of age that she starts to understand the reasons behind her fascination with the Duke who makes her heart race, her insides yearn with longing. Max is the man who stars as the centerfold of her dirtiest fantasies.
Violet bides her time looking on at the Duke, who also happens to be her father’s closest friend. Though the Duke stops visiting their home since her debut, Violet has no qualms about “spying” on Max whenever she encounters him at society functions. However, her secret longings are laid bare for the Duke to see when she spies on him during one of his garden trysts, leaving Violet with little else to do but be honest about what she wants from him.
Max’s resistance to Violet stems from a lot of things; he is old enough to be her father and he has sworn off marriage since the death of his wife during child birth. After all, a man like him should not pursue an innocent like Violet without noble intentions. But resistance does prove to be futile once he has a taste of Violet and the passion that she invokes in him which he has denied for too long. But fiery passion alone cannot be enough, especially for Violet, and facing a shared future might prove to be Max’s undoing in every sense.
As mentioned earlier, I loved everything to do with this story. I had just one problem; I wished for this to have been a full length novel which would have delivered the kind of angst and emotions that a short length story does not allow the time for. However, even with that limitation, Ms. Shupe did an amazing job out of carving out her characters and giving them life in a way that speaks to the hearts of readers.
Max is such a compelling hero – he is kind, forthright, and a deeply sensual man who carries a wealth of guilt associated with the death of his wife. I would be giving away too much if I were to delve into the reasons behind the guilt but needless to say, Violet is exactly what he needs, even if Max might believe otherwise. The guilt is one huge aspect that makes him resist any of kind long-lasting relationship that could lead to marriage, and Violet spells trouble with a capital T for him in that regard.
Violet’s quiet determination and strength was what drew me to her the most; the way she never cowered from going after what she wanted, knowing full well that heartbreak would be the result. She also was independent in a way that drew me to her; she was her own person and her love for the Duke was just a part of that same personality. She was intuitive in a way that makes her perfect for someone like Max, who guards his heart closely. I loved the gauntlet that she threw at Max, something which proved to be the tipping point in the story. The steam between the two just cements the emotional goodness and that is why this made for a tantalizing read when all was said and done.
Definitely recommended for fans of historical romances laced with passion and endearing characters to boot!
Final Verdict: With My Dirty Duke, Ms. Shupe proves to readers the kind of riveting read that a talented author can provide, even through a novella! Splendid read!
He made no move to assist her, only held perfectly still as she slipped one brace over his shoulder, then the other. When she finished, she sat back on her knees and waited for him to continue with instructions. “My shirt.” His collar and necktie had already been removed, so she leaned in once more and set to work on the small buttons on his chest. His lean muscles rippled beneath her fingers, the carefully leashed power betrayed by his rapid breathing. When enough buttons were loosened, she dragged the expanse of fabric over his head, Ravensthorpe lifting his arms to help. The thin garment he wore underneath was of the finest cloth, and it outlined the thick muscle and sinew, the flat planes and elegant grace. Another wave of heat rolled through her, centering between her legs. More.
She worked hard then, moving faster to show him without words how much she wanted to please him. He grunted and rocked his hips, lost in the moment, until he suddenly lifted her up and away from his erection. In a blink, she found herself on her back, Ravensthorpe leaning over her, pressing her into the floor an instant before he sealed his mouth to hers in a punishing kiss. This was no sweet melding of lips as described by poets and schoolgirls. No, he devoured her, his mouth immediately opening to give her his tongue. She took it eagerly, widening to allow him in, reveling in the slick heat as his tongue twined with hers. This kiss was a battle, a test. He was showing her all the passion, all the lust inside him, and she had to prove that she could accept it. Prove that she wanted it.
“Spread your legs. Show me.” Those pale thighs parted, revealing her pussy, and he couldn’t breathe. Goddamn beautiful. Arousal glistened on the petals, with more gathered around the entrance. He traced the soft flesh with a fingertip, relishing the slick her body produced for him. “Is all this for me?” She watched him with wide eyes as he brought the finger to his mouth and sucked the sweetness onto his tongue. “Oh, my darling girl. I fear I’ll never get enough of your taste.”
She was close, her body stretched like a bowstring, her chest pumping in a desperate plea for air. Max needed to feel her inexperienced walls clamp down, if not on his shaft, then on his finger. He carefully slid the tip of his smallest finger inside her cunt, and her slick walls sucked him inside as if starved. God, how he wished . . . No. He could not even contemplate it. Then it happened. Her thighs shook around his head, her cries ringing in his ears as she found her peak. The release went on and on, her body completely his in that moment, and the satisfaction he experienced as she climaxed on his tongue was incomparable.
Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and began pulling her deeper into the gloom, helping her down the stone steps. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Max. His presence surrounded her, a feeling of safety and danger, arousal and comfort all at the same time. She went willingly, eagerly, unconcerned with getting caught. Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and began pulling her deeper into the gloom, helping her down the stone steps. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Max. His presence surrounded her, a feeling of safety and danger, arousal and comfort all at the same time. She went willingly, eagerly, unconcerned with getting caught. Once on the ground, he tugged her into an alcove hidden underneath the stairs. Before she could see his face, he was on her, the muscular length of him flush to her front, her back against the rough stone. But he didn’t kiss her. He put his mouth near her ear, his warm breath coasting over her skin. “Happy, little mouse? For two weeks I’ve tried to forget you. A goddamn fortnight, yet here I am—all because I cannot get the taste of your pussy out of my head.”
He was so beautiful with his chiseled jaw and the few silver threads at his temple, his skin taut with excitement. She reached her other hand down to his testicles, rolled them in her palm, and Max let out a drawn out, “Fuck.” Hot breath hit her cheek as he began to talk. “We haven’t long. Your father is in the card room and he’ll come looking for you when he’s done. I have the taste of you in my mouth. Would you like the taste of me in your mouth, as well?”
“I expected to be torn in two. Instead I feel . . . full.” She wriggled, causing him to shift inside her, and he screwed his eyes shut, struggling not to spend before they even got started. “I like it,” she said. Dear God. Max gave a thrust of his hips, his shaft dragging along her sensitive tissues, and Violet purred. “Goodness, I like that even more.” He was done for. Any civility he possessed disappeared and Max snapped, driving into her again and again.
He leaned over her, snarling in her ear as his hips worked, his cock plunging in and out of her channel. “You like this, my little mouse? You want more?” “Oh, Max, yes. Please.” “You’re going to let me fuck you whenever I want, aren’t you?” He couldn’t seem to stop talking, especially when her walls clenched every time he did. She likes my dirty words.“Your cunt was made for my cock. I’ve never had better.”
Title: Nightwolf by Karina Halle Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Paranormal Romance POV: First Person, Dual Series: Spinoff, The Dark Eyes Duet Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Wolf Eriksen Heroine: Amethyst DeMille Sensuality: 3.5 Published On: November 22, 2021 Started On: December 30, 2021 Finished On: January 02, 2022
She tastes like eternity. Like life among the stars. Like something that could sustain me forever, like her blood has always belonged with mine.
Night Wolf by Karina Halle is a spinoff from her The Dark Eyes Duet. Having never read the duet, and being a sucker for romances in the friends-to-lovers theme which are hard to find these days (especially well written ones with all the feels), I decided to give this one a go as I like Ms. Halle’s style of writing.
Almost 30 year of age, Amethyst DeMille is in love with Wolf Eriksen and has been for a long time. Having become friends with Wolf since she met him in her early twenties, Amethyst knows that a future between the two is futile in many ways, even if her heart tells her to take that leap of faith and her body hums its own tune every single time that Wolf is in her vicinity.
All of that stocked up sexual tension between the two comes to head when Amethyst requires Wolf’s protection from an evil force that seems to be targeting her, the “forced proximity” proving to be the accelerant that puts fuel to the low simmering fire that has burned between them for months. Ultimately, no matter how much Wolf might try to resist the lure that is Amethyst, the overwhelming nature of their desire overtakes them both leaving them with little choice but to confront the tenuous nature of their shared future.
While I liked the overall premise of the story, somehow it came off as disjointed. Wolf’s past which was laid out at the beginning of the story in which one could see that he was affected strongly by the untimely demise of his father, had no correlation to what takes place in the present world. I expected some sort of coherence to the story-line in that arc which failed to materialize.
Additionally, I felt that there was too much focus on an aspect of Amethyst’s life that detracted from the main theme – something I understood after reading the author’s note at the end of the story. Grief over losing two very important people in Ms. Halle’s life was a huge part of how this story came together and I guess that explains to a large extent the direction of the book plot when all was said and done.
I also thought that Wolf had more potential to his character than was explored. It is almost as if he was a half fleshed out character – perhaps because I read this as a standalone without pursuing the duet first, I am thinking I might have missed out on more of him. Either way, I thought Wolf deserved more than he got out of the story.
Recommended for fans of Ms. Halle’s books!
Final Verdict: A disjointed plot and characters that failed to live up to their expected potential rendered this a disappointing read.
You could feed on me.” He swallows hard, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t. I would never.” “You mean you’ve never thought about it?” I ask, my tone both playful and serious. “About biting me, feeding on me.” Fucking me… He stares at me, his look growing more intense by the second. He may have not heard that thought, but he felt it. He adjusts himself, as if uncomfortable. “I’m a vampire, Amethyst. Of course, I’ve thought about it.” He closes his eyes, breathing in deep through his nose. “But it would be violent.” “Maybe I like the violence of it.”
“As I said before,” he says in a gruff voice, his hands skimming down the sides of my waist, his eyes glued to my parted lips. “You’re a tease.” Oh baby. I give him a wicked smile in response, straddling him deeper until I can feel the long hard length of him pressing up against me, only thin wet fabric between us. My god. I can feel him. I can’t believe this is happening. “Did you ever think that you’ve been the tease in this situation?” I manage to say. He tilts his head, appraising me, gaze flicking up to meet mine. “In this situation at the moment?” His voice is even lower now, making my nerves dance. His eyes sharpen with intensity. “I’m definitely not teasing.” And at that, he brings his hand over my stomach, sliding his lengthy, strong fingers down beneath the band of my underwear, and fucking hell am I glad I got a bikini wax a few weeks ago because his finger slides over my clit and I immediately gasp. Holy jeez.
I bite down on my tongue, gripping his shoulders, trying to meet his eyes. Fuck, he’s so beautiful. And he’s staring at me like I’m some goddess from above. “That’s it, baby, look at me when you come,” he says in a deep, gruff voice, and then I’m letting go, into the freefall. I come hard on his hand, rocking my hips into him, his fingers diving deeper, leaving no inch unexplored. I cry out, a string of expletives that ring out across the night, and it feels like my soul is being torn in a million little beautiful pieces, softly floating down from those stars. Holy shit. I mean, holy shit.
His tongue lashes me, mouth moving hard and fast, ravenous, and even though he’s not feeding, he’s feasting on me all the same. The hot, thick pressure in my core is molten, spreading throughout me, and my nerves feel like they’ve been stretched like a tightrope, moments from snapping, and, and… “Oh, fuck!” The cry rips out of my throat, something deep and dark and primal, and I’m writhing on Wolf’s face, the water splashing over the tub as I thrust my hips up, helping his tongue fuck me deeper until I lose all control. I come so hard, I’m slipping down in the water, gasping for ragged breath, trying to hold myself up, yet succumbing to oblivion as my limbs jerk and shake, as if my mind has been pried open and the contents won’t stop spilling out. The water goes above my head. Then everything goes black.
I throw my head back and bellow, the sound being torn out of my chest while I stiffen, nearly falling over. I thrust hard, once, twice, into her bruised, plump lips, then still, my heart beating so fast it might burst through my veins. For a moment all I hear is the blood in my head, the ragged gasp of my breath, the flutter of birds in the branches that I must have startled when I started roaring like a beast. Then I look down through heavy eyes to see Amethyst smiling up at me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and swallowing me down with pleasure. That’s going to be burned in my brain forever.
He’s kissing me. Wolf is actually kissing me. Never mind the fact that I’ve had his cock in my mouth, and he’s had his tongue inside me. A kiss is still something to be anticipated and revered and worshipped. A kiss still has the power to bring you to your knees, to give you butterflies, to change your life, and I think this kiss is doing just that. It’s changing my life, for better or for worse, there’s no coming back from this. It’s just too easy, it’s just too good. All that chemistry between us that we’ve been stockpiling for years is finally spilling out in the way that it always should have.
“Please,” I whisper. He leans in, just enough to brush his lips over mine. “Please what?” he asks roughly. “Kiss me,” I say, my eyes closing, taking in his scent, the cool feel of his fingers, my pulse skipping against my skin. “Fuck me.” I pause, my eyes opening to meet his. “Claim me.” Fire ignites in his pupils and he moves so fast that the world becomes a blur. His mouth covers mine and he’s pushing me backward and I’m stumbling as I go. Then I’m pressed up against a tree, my hair tangling in the ragged bark, and his hands are roaming over my body, leaving fire and ice in their wake.
“I’m going to fuck you long and hard and rough,” he murmurs in a deliciously raw voice. “But not until you’re dripping down your legs. Got it?” My heart beats like mad at the base of my throat and I find myself nodding. Holy moly, that sounds like a challenge. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to take you,” I find myself saying, and I’m too turned on to be the slightest bit bashful about it. He gives me a small, wicked grin. “I’ll make it work.”
“I think you’re a greedy fucking girl, that’s what I think.” His grin is carnal, like the predator he is. “That’s what I know.” Suddenly he plunges his fingers in deeper, moving them in such a way that they drag across every swollen nerve inside me and I’m set off like a bomb, the orgasm tearing through me again like fireworks. This time I haven’t even caught my breath or gathered my thoughts before Wolf is picking me up by the waist and lifting me up against the tree. I have just enough time to wrap my legs around him before he shoves his massive cock inside me. FUCK! I holler like an animal, still throbbing, still fucking coming, and he’s already squeezed inside me to the hilt, pushing all the air out of my lungs, making me feel like he’s impaled me to the tree.
“Focus, baby,” Wolf says in this deep voice that makes me want to do everything he says. “Just think about how good I feel. Fuck it, tell me how good I feel.” “You feel so fucking good,” I tell him, reaching out and pressing my hand against the hard planes of his back, marveling at his strength while I pull him in deeper, my nails digging through his shirt. “Fucking me so good. I can barely handle you, you’re wedged in so tight.” His nostrils flare like primordial lust runs through him and he lets out a tense growl. He leans in quickly, kissing me hard, lips tender but the movement rough, like he’s fucking my mouth as much as he is my cunt, and I’m completely lost to him.
Then reaches around me, the length of his thick arm going up over my spine, a barrier between me and the tree, and starts fucking me again. Harder than before. Just a burst of animalistic power that can only belong to a vampire, feral and wild and dangerous, and I am at his mercy. I completely submit to him.
I brace myself with my hands against the wall and lean forward so that my breasts are in his face. He immediately responds, his tongue lapping up the swell of my breast in strong, broad strokes. I groan, my eyes closing, succumbing to the sensations of his mouth on my skin, but then he’s wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking in hard and it creates lightning that shoots out along my nerves, straight to my core, like I’m plugged into a star system.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Powers-Slater Studio, #1 Publisher: Harlequin Hero: Vaughan Slater Heroine: Carolyn McKensie Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: February 21, 1997 Started On: December 21, 2021 Finished On: December 30, 2021021
A Daughter’s Dilemma by Miranda Lee was my last read for the year 2021. It is February 2022, and it is only now I am able to get my last review for the year in place. I am a firm believer of the philosophy better late than never. Perhaps more applicable here than elsewhere in my life because I have a habit of always running behind on my review schedule.
My book list for 2021 veered in the direction of picking up older Harlequin romances to read because, at the cost of repeating myself, modern watered down versions of the heroes that I come across in books these days just makes me itch, and not in a good way at all. I feel bereft of the emotions that would otherwise run gamut through me when authors just get it all right, with a hero who is brusque, taciturn, and all those qualities that we hate to love and love to hate.
Miranda Lee in this way, is an author whose books teeter on 50-50 line; I either love them or am meh about them. Luckily, this one too passed muster, and I had an enjoyable time with the journey that was 34 year old Vaughan Slater and 24 year old Carolyn McKensie take to their happily ever after.
The story begins with Carolyn sending off her newly wedded mother on her honeymoon cruise, with a promise to her stepfather that she would do what was needed to ensure that their new home was ready to move into upon their return. However, Carolyn gets the shock of her life when she finds out that the architect hired by her stepfather is none other than Vaughan, who basically destroyed her mother all those years ago.
Carolyn’s mother raises her as a single parent, with her father having died even before she was born. All of that had caught up with her mother when Carolyn was fourteen years old, and since then, Carolyn had acted more as a mother than vice versa. Carolyn being fiercely protective of her mother is not ready to forgive and forget what Vaughan is responsible for; having seduced and discarded a woman who was much older than him.
Carolyn’s helpless reaction to the magnetism that Vaughan exudes is however the nail on the coffin so to speak, and even though she is determined not to give in, it proves too much of a challenge to turn away from the heat, especially with Vaughan feeling the same way. Consequently, the attraction between them gives way to passion of the kind that innocent Carolyn had never known, and before she knows it, her heart too is on the line.
But there looms dark clouds on the horizon, casting gloomy shadows on her newfound happiness that is all too fragile, especially when Carolyn has a hard time reconciling with the version of the events that Vaughan stands by and won’t let her shy away from. With Carolyn torn between the man who makes her senses reel and her heart soar, and her mother for whom she would practically do anything for, it is up to Carolyn to gather her courage and face the music, whatever tune it may be playing when all is said and done.
While I found Carolyn a bit tiresome at certain points, overall, I understood where she was coming from. I too would probably have been a bundle of nerves if I were in her place, believing that I have to choose between the love of my life and my own mother who sacrificed her youth to bring me up. That is a tough place to be in.
I loved Vaughan, for being as determined to make Carolyn stand up for what she wants, for giving her that needed push to step out of her comfort zone, without which she would probably have made the wrong choice and ended up being miserable, bitter, and lonely for the rest of her life.
Recommended for fans of Miranda Lee and fans of Harlequin romances.
Final Verdict: A Daughter’s Dilemma delves into what it is like to be caught between a rock and a hard place; it takes courage of the kind not many of us can muster to make that leap of faith.
For a few seconds longer he stared down at her. ‘Let’s see if I can’t help you make up your mind…’ And his mouth slowly descended. How long later did it lift again? A minute? Two? Carolyn had no idea, for instantly those soft sensual lips claimed hers she was catapulted into a world so erotic and exciting that all coherent thought rocketed to a distant planet. She clung to him, her lips parting soundlessly beneath the increasing pressure of his, letting his tongue slide forward into her mouth, letting him arouse her with it to a pitch she would never have believed possible from a kiss. The blood began swimming in her head and wave upon wave of heat flooded up through her body. When her knees threatened to buckle from under her, she slid her arms up tightly around his neck, her small hard breasts pressed flat against his wet chest.
Carolyn bit her bottom lip against the tumultuous pleasure he immediately evoked, her knuckles whitening around the railing as she felt him gradually work his way back down her body. Surely he didn’t mean to…to… When he passed her navel, every internal muscle she owned contracted and held tightly. Her lips parted, as though ready for protest. But no protest came from her lips when he finally reached his destination. No protest at all. Only a shuddering sigh of sheer ecstasy. ‘Oh, yes,’ she moaned. ‘Yes…’
For a split second Carolyn felt a thrilling moment of peaking, of being suspended. And then she was spun into a wild avalanche of sensation that shattered her completely, the experience impossible to fully capture in words or even memory. Its sharpness caught at her breath, then forced sounds from her lips, soft sensual cries somewhere between sighs and moans. Her head tipped back, her lips panting apart, her back bending like a bow from the bed as she felt her flesh convulsing around Vaughan’s, felt her woman’s pull on his body, urging him to a mutual release. When it came Carolyn was stunned, thinking the pleasure she’d just experienced was impossible to surpass. But nothing could eclipse the emotional and physical satisfaction of holding Vaughan and feeling him climax deep within her.
‘Tell me you love me too,’ he urged. ‘I want to hear you say it.’ Her heart leapt, but instinct warned her not to admit to such a thing. ‘No,’ she panted. ‘No…’ He muttered something and resumed his slow, steady rhythm, taking her inexorably towards the moment when will-power would cease to exist, when there was nothing but her body and his, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. At this most crucial moment, Vaughan stopped once again, bringing a cry of sharp need from her gasping lungs. Her nails dug deeply in his back and her body urged him desperately to continue. ‘Tell me you love me, dammit,’ he demanded, holding her still beneath him in an iron grip. She whipped her head from side to side till he captured her mouth with his own, grinding her head back into the soft pillow with a savage kiss. ‘Say it!’ he gasped when his mouth finally burst from hers. ‘Dear God, just say it this once!’ She was moved, more by the desperate note in his voice than his violent kiss, or the sexual edge on which she was hanging. ‘I love you,’ she cried huskily. ‘I’ve loved you all along.’
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Harlequin Hero: Michael Angellini Heroine: Salome Twynan Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: March 25, 1994 Started On: December 13, 2021 Finished On: December 17, 2021
A Date with Destiny by Miranda Lee is a category romance that was first published in 1994. The story begins when 24 year old Salome Twynan discovers that her ex-husband had once again added another item to her divorce settlement; a penthouse unit at McMahon’s Point. Salome had married young, at the age of nineteen to a 49 year old man, who had warned her that people would talk, judge, and slander her reputation upon their marriage. Salome had gone into the marriage with her eyes wide open, let her husband mold her into what he wanted, and when the divorce had come out of nowhere, Salome is devastated, and having tried and failed to see her ex-husband to get answers to the questions she has being futile slides her further into a depressive state.
When Salome turns up at the penthouse, she discovers that her neighbor is none other than Michael Angellini (Mike), one of Sydney’s most eligible bachelors, the wealthy owner of an exclusive Italian restaurant that Ralph had taken Salome to on many occasions during the course of their marriage. From the onset of their introduction, Salome and Mike had rubbed each other the wrong way, and the hostility had often meant Mike ignoring her or giving her scathing glances while Salome tried her utmost to be more flirty and appreciative of her husband in his presence.
Needless to say, the knowledge that Mike is going to be right next door is not information that settles well with Salome, especially when she discovers that underneath all her hostility lies recognition of Mike’s vitality as a man and the need he rouses in her. Salome has her hangups about casual sex which drives her up the wall when it comes to admitting to the fact that she indeed finds Mike desirable to the point of distraction.
I found the love that unfolded between Mike and Salome to be an entertaining, sweet, and sexy journey with a bit of angst tossed into the mix. It is apparent from Mike’s behavior that he finds Salome just as desirable, and would like nothing better than for Salome to give in for them to reach the height of their mutual pleasure in each other. But Salome is a stubborn as well as a reluctant heroine (but not to the point where it becomes annoying), and Mike has his work cut out for him in trying to make her see that for him, there is no other.
Recommended for those who love books by Miranda Lee.
Final Verdict: Intense heat and good characterizations renders A Date with Destiny to be a wonderful read!
‘You don’t want me to stop, do you?’ he said hoarsely. ‘No,’ she admitted, her voice shaking. ‘No…’ His raw groan stunned her. Clearly, he wanted her almost as much as she wanted him. Maybe he had always wanted her. No, no, a dim memory refuted. That’s not so. He said that wasn’t so. His next kiss obliterated any further thought, and this time his mouth contained nothing but uncontrollable passion, a taking rather than a tempting. Salome met him halfway, their tongues joining together in a violently sensuous mating that could only be eclipsed in one way.
She could hear his breathing, as heavy and ragged as her own, hear his dark mutterings as he began working on the buttons of her jacket and blouse, then the tie at her neck. Cool air suddenly caressed bare breasts, a rash of goose-bumps temporarily sobering her. For a split second the appalling truth of what she was allowing came home to Salome but, before she could react, Mike’s mouth moved across her breasts and closed over one single, straining nipple. A moan was torn from deep in her throat, the fingers of both her hands curling over to dig into her palms. ‘Oh, God!’ she whimpered. She jammed her fists down beside her on the case, but this only served to give her a lever with which to arch her back further upwards, pushing her flesh deeper and deeper into his mouth. Her head swam with dizzying pleasure, the blood in her veins surging hotly through her body.
‘What is it?’ Mike said sharply. She expelled the breath she had been holding in a trembling gasp. ‘Nothing…nothing…’ ‘Tell me,’ he urged, and drew her to him in a breathtakingly close embrace, his lips pressed feverishly to her forehead. ‘What is it that frightens you so about me? Why didn’t you want to let me finish making love to you earlier on? Why?‘ She shook her head frantically from side to side. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘I can’t! It’s all too confusing.’ ‘What’s confusing?’ he insisted, little knowing that the hot, stroking hands on her hair, her neck, her back, were the most confusing of all, because they kept bringing wave after wave of sensation that was slowly obliterating her capacity to reason. Surely she wouldn’t feel like this in any other man’s arms, would she? It didn’t seem possible. Yet…if it was only Michael Angellini who could do this to her, then what was it exactly she felt for him? Sexual infatuation? Obsession? Lust? Salome refused to embrace the word ‘love’. Even if her feelings for Ralph had finally begun to die, her bruised, battered heart wasn’t ready, or capable, of loving another man yet, and certainly not a man who had nothing but contempt for her. Perhaps she was acting this way out of some sort of crazed revenge against the hurt perpetrated by her husband. Perhaps this was a rebound thing. She didn’t know any more. ‘Everything’s confusing,’ she groaned. ‘Me… this…you…’
She moaned her frustration and frantically pushed him away, ‘No, no!’ she cried. He staggered back off the end of the bed, getting to his feet and staring down at her with eyes both wild and incredulous. ‘You must be mad! There’s no stopping now. No changing your mind. Look at me!’ And, with a single savage yank, he stripped off his pyjama-trousers, striking her speechless with the stark evidence of his desire. Salome had never looked quite so blatantly at an aroused man before, certainly not one as well-endowed as Mike. Colour burnt in her cheeks, her heart thudding beneath her breasts. ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she burst forth, then hesitated, finding it hard to find the words. ‘I was wanting you. You!’ she cried. ‘Not…anything less…’
Finally he gasped away from her mouth and pressed hot lips to the smooth skin of her shoulder, the pulsating vein at the base of her throat, his hands running up and down the sides of her body. Her own hands were caressing the muscles in his back, but dug sharply inwards when he grabbed her hips, lifting them from the bed and thrusting even more deeply into her. Quite instinctively, her inner muscles squeezed tightly around his throbbing hardness, gripping and releasing him in a relentless rhythm. Any moment now… There was a split second when she seemed to balance on a sharp edge, when her breathing stopped, and every muscle in her body strained to an aching stop. She heard him gasp for breath, felt his hands tightening around her. Then, with one final surge, he set them both free, and their mutual cries of release echoed in the night.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Bellinger Sisters, #1 Publisher: Avon Hero: Brendan Taggart Heroine: Piper Bellinger Sensuality: 3.5 Date of Publication: July 13, 2021 Started On: November 28, 2021 Finished On: December 14, 2021
It Happened One Summer, the debut book in the Bellinger Sisters series by Tessa Bailey features two main protagonists who are the complete opposite of each other, the journey they travel towards finding their other half in one another making for an enjoyable read.
The story begins with 28 year old Piper Bellinger being dumped by her current boyfriend in the midst of a party, a nightmare for someone like Piper who lives for the likes and comments on social media profiles. Piper considers her career to be partying and being seen in the right places. Her stepfather being loaded enough for her to afford the lifestyle she leads means that Piper had never really grown up, nor had she ever felt the need to.
Her delayed reaction to the breakup however turns out to be the last straw for her stepfather, and with the need to teach her a lesson driving him, Piper is “exiled” to her father’s hometown in Westport for three months. While everyone (including herself) expects her to fail to live up the requirements of her stay in Westport, Piper has no other avenues to turn to and it is thus she and her sister Hannah find themselves in the town where their deceased father is a revered hero of sorts, the last man of the Westport crew to die while hunting the almighty king crab on the Bering Sea.
From the instance that Piper walks into the bar which her her father owns the deed to, she clashes with Brendan Taggart, a man who seems to engulf her every sense from the get go. As a seaman and captain of Della Ray, the wheel of which he had taken over from his father-in-law, Brendan is a man who is a stickler for routine, never straying from his tight schedules and the regimented lifestyle which keeps him grounded. But all of that is shaken up by none other than Piper, who for the first time in seven long years makes him want to move on from his revered status as a widower.
While Brendan is a bit grumpy and gives Piper attitude at first, all of that changes with the realization of the extensive nature of his burgeoning feelings towards Piper. The lady herself, who has never really even considered putting down roots in a place other than a vibrant city with a nightlife to beckon her, finds herself swayed by the quaint charm that is small town life, where without even realizing, she makes herself an integral part of the small community.
But then again, the past has a way of rearing its ugly head when its least wanted, and that is exactly what happens, giving the story a healthy dose of angst to make things more well rounded towards the final stretch.
I thoroughly enjoyed the story of Piper and Brendan, each being unique and refreshing in a way that made them easily earn their rightful place in my heart. Queen of Smut, aka Ms. Bailey definitely delivers on THAT front, leaving readers with their scorched e-readers to contend with when all is said and done. Watching Piper embrace the wholesome version of herself was an added bonus which I loved!
I am definitely looking forward to the next installment in the series which is set to hit the book stands on the first of next month. No time like the present to get your hands on this one!
Final Verdict: With It Happened One Summer, Ms. Tessa Bailey weaves a complex character-driven story full of heart and the best kind of smut, rendering this unputdownnable!
One second he was holding the toolbox, the next it was on the ground and he was turning. Piper’s momentum brought her up against Brendan’s body, hard, and his boat captain forearm wrapped around her lower back, lifting her just enough that her toes brushed the concrete. And then he bowed her backward on that steel arm, stamping his mouth down onto hers in an epic kiss. It was like a movie poster, with the male lead curling his big, hunky body over the swooning, feminine lady and taking his fill. What? What was she thinking? Her brain was clearly compromised—and it was no wonder. The mouth that found hers was tender and hungry, all at once. Worshipful, but restraining an appetite like she’d never encountered. As soon as their lips connected and held, her fingers curled into the neck of his T-shirt, and that arm at the small of her back levered her upright, flattening the fronts of their bodies, and oh God, he just devoured her.
That big body swayed closer, lines of strain appearing around his mouth. “Please . . .” “You don’t have to beg,” Piper said, bringing the champagne flute to her breasts, tipping the glass and letting the champagne trickle out over one nipple, then the next, and Brendan started to pant. “Not for something we both want. Touch me, Brendan. Taste me. Please?” “Christ, I have to.” He traced his mouth to her left nipple, pressed his bared teeth against it, before rubbing his tongue against the stiff bud, yanking her hips forward, the move arching her back so she had to use his hair for balance, taking two big handfuls. Her mouth was in an O, watching him savor her, manhandle her body. No games. Just need.
He stared hard at her juncture, the grip on her knees flexing, a curse issuing unsteadily from his mouth. “Yeah, I have to be an idiot leaving you without my attention for two weeks.” She panted. “Are you calling me high maintenance?” “Are you denying it?” He tugged aside the strip of material shielding her core, which thankfully she’d waxed clean as a whistle right before leaving LA. “Fuck me. You can be as high maintenance as you want, honey. But I’m the only one who does the maintenance.” He ran his thumb down the seam of her sex. “Understood?” Piper nodded, as if in a trance.
His lips ghosted up her inner thigh, blunt fingers hooking in the sides of her panties. “Lift up,” he rumbled, nipping at her sensitive skin with his teeth. “Want them off.” Oh great. His voice could get even deeper? It resonated all the way up to her clit, and she fell back on her elbows, inching her hips up enough for Brendan to peel the thong down her legs. She watched this man, who grew more exciting by the moment, expecting him to drop the underwear on the floor. He wrapped the thin black material around his shaft instead, pressing his mouth and nose up against her wetness, groaning as he choked himself up and down in a tight fist. “Holy . . .” Piper breathed, momentarily blacking out. “See this, baby?” He rubbed his mouth side to side, parting the damp folds of her femininity, that hand jerking roughly between his thighs. “You’re still getting me off, too.”
He all but fell on her, his face landing in the crook of her neck, his fist positioning his stiffness between her thighs, right over that uber-sensitive flesh. “One day soon, Piper, I’m going to fuck you so goddamn hard.” He alternated between dragging his swollen tip through her saturated folds and stroking himself. “Going to fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your beautiful mouth. You’ll forget how to say anything but my name. Real quick, honey.” Her clit hummed again, unbelievably, and that buzz of connection, of more promised pleasure had to be the reason she turned her head slightly, whispering in his ear, “Promise?” With a strangled growl of her name, he hit his peak, shooting moisture onto her belly, his hand moving in a blur, his teeth bared against the side of her throat. “Piper. Piper.”
The moment their mouths collided, Brendan knew he’d made a mistake. He should have waited to kiss her until they were home in his bed, because the uncertainty of the last eleven days reared back and punched him. It did the same to Piper—he could feel it. She gave a broken moan and opened her sweet mouth for him, her breath coming in short pants almost immediately, just like his. He’d barely slid his tongue between her lips when she gripped his shoulders, drew herself high against his chest, and slung her legs around his waist. And Jesus, he’d already been halfway to hard, but his cock surged against his fly now, swelling like a motherfucker when she settled the warm give of her sex on top of him, the drag of friction making him curse. Making him wish they were anywhere but a hospital hallway, half an hour from his house.
Lips seeking and wet, their kiss escalated to the point of no return again. They both wrestled with the waistband of her yoga pants, shoving them down past her hips, lower until she could kick them away. And then she was back to climbing him, her lithe thighs skimming up to his waist, his hips punching forward to get his cock up against her softness, pinning her to the wall in the process. “Noticed we didn’t have to get any panties off,” he said in between kisses, finding her incredible ass with both hands and kneading her buns almost angrily, because Jesus, this thing drove him fucking crazy. “You drive here in my truck with a bare pussy, Piper?” She bit his bottom lip, tugged. “Slept in your bed with it, too.”
“This bed isn’t strong enough to survive what I’m going to do to you,” Brendan growled against her mouth, capturing her lips again in a kiss fraught with male sexual frustration. It let her know in no uncertain terms that she was the source and he’d be exacting revenge. Take it. Take it. Without breaking contact with her mouth, Brendan’s hand wedged down between them and wrestled his zipper down, the desperation of his jerky movements exciting her like nothing else, dampening the folds between her legs. “Hurry,” she begged, biting at his lips. “Hurry.” “Goddammit, Piper, you make me so fucking hard.”
“Tell me you’re wet. Tell me to put it in.” “I’m so wet,” she moaned, lifting her hips, running the insides of her knees up and down his heaving rib cage. “I’m ready. I need you. Rough as you can.” That full, smooth dome pressed up against her entrance, and she braced, one hand flying to his shoulder, the other to the wooden bunk rail. And still she wasn’t prepared for the savagery of that first thrust. With a hoarse roar, his hips drove Piper up the narrow bed, his thickness invading all available space within her, and without allowing her time to acclimate, he was already pumping feverishly, rocking the bed with staccato squeaks.
“Brendan,” she gasped. Then louder, “Brendan. You’re so good. It’s so good.” “I’ll never lie in this bed again without having to jerk off.” His hand came up to frame her jaw, applying just enough pressure while looking her square in the eye that another rush of wetness coated her sex, aiding him in his destruction of her senses. “You love knowing that, don’t you? You love making me fucking crazy.” She bit her lip and nodded. “Sure you want to be my boyfriend?” “Yes,” he growled, and slammed into her, holding still, deep, his pained face dropping into the crook of her neck. “And don’t call me that right now or I’m going to come.” Oh. Jesus. That confession sent a contracting ripple through Piper’s core, and she let out a strangled sob, her hands flying to Brendan’s ass inside his loosened jeans, fingernails sinking in and yanking him, scraping pathways into his flesh. “Oh my God. N-now. Now.”
She was panting as he rose, dropped his chest down onto her back and pushed his cock inside of her still-contracting pussy. “Mine,” he gritted, the tightness of her cinching his balls up painfully, firing every ounce of his blood with possessiveness. “I’m taking what’s mine now.” A movement ahead of them on the bed reminded Brendan of the mirrored headboard, and he almost came, caught off guard by the erotic sight of her slack jaw and tits that bounced along with every pump of his hips. His body loomed behind her, damn near twice her size, his lips peeled back from his teeth like he might very well devour her whole.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: The Beyond Bondage Series, #1 Publisher: BookBaby Hero: James Hunter Heroine: Charlotte Bell Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: November 30, 2015 Started On: August 10, 2021 Finished On: November 25, 2021
Degrees of Control by Eve Dangerfield is a novel first published in 2015. The story begins with Charlotte Bell attending her friend Sophia’s “low-key” engagement party, where her friends are trying to hook her up with a man who would understand needs of a closeted submissive such as Charlotte and deliver her from the bad breakup that has left a mark on her.
Charlotte is sort of biding her time until she has saved enough to return to Australia where she is from. The decision to follow her ex-boyfriend to America had turned out to be one that was foolhardy in hindsight, with Dale having subjected her to unwarranted jealousy which had only escalated over time for no good reason.
When James Hunter walks into the party, every single cell inside of Charlotte goes on red alert. Even with all her friends warning her that James is the kind of man-whore that she should steer clear from, the need that he rouses in her is all too great to be ignored.
Even though Charlotte knows that James and herself are as ill-matched as can be, the fact that neither of them are looking for anything long-term works at first. James makes reality of every sexual fantasy that she has harbored and makes the submissive in her crave the dominant in him all the more. But when emotions come to the forefront, it is a challenging road that is ahead for both, with Charlotte trying to understand the complexity behind the man that James is, so that they might at least have a shot of making things more longer term.
I loved Degrees of Control and thoroughly enjoyed the dynamics between Charlotte and James. Ms. Dangerfield is a master at delivering scorching hot scenes of passion, while at the same leaving us with tantalizing bits thought provoking elements that makes her books the stellar reads they are.
I fell in love with Charlotte and James from the onset – what is there not to love about a heroine who is kind, gorgeous, and smart, and a hero who is an alpha-hole of the best kind, who I knew would break my heart and patch it all up before all was said and done?
Recommended for those who love psychological depth with their smut! This one certainly delivers!
Final Verdict: With the perfect balance of panty-melting variety of kink and emotional depth with heart, Degrees of Control is a character-driven page-turner!
His thumb brushed over her clit and the whole world tipped sideways, a surge of energy burst at her center and her hips bucked against his stroking fingers. “James!” Another dark chuckle. “Oh honey, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.” Charlie came then, she couldn’t help it, and as she came, she screamed.
“I love that look on your face,” he said. “All nervous but so fuckin’ eager, like you’re gonna cream your panties the second I lay a hand on you.” He strode toward her and Charlie felt herself shrink beneath his much larger presence. James’ smirk grew wider. He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes, letting his hand linger on her neck. At his touch, she did indeed feel an answering clench in her cunt, sparks flickering deep within her belly. She pressed her thighs together, taking pleasure in the ache. It was worth coming for this, just to know this kind of doomsday lust exists.
“Now the skirt.” Charlie didn’t think she’d ever felt this exposed. Her hands lurched up to her hair, stroking it nervously before she reached for the fastener at the back of her pencil skirt. His hazel eyes bore into hers as he rubbed a palm across the front of his jeans, stroking the bulge that lay below. Charlie let Holly’s skirt pool around her ankles. Her panties were cheap but new. She hadn’t wanted to wear anything for him that she’d ever worn for Dale. James stared at the ornate love heart woven into her pink bikini briefs and she saw something wild flicker in his eyes. “Turn around,” he snarled. She did what she was told, her feet swaying slightly in the pumps. “Bend over.”
“You wanna come, Charlotte?” He ran his thumb over her swollen clit and Charlie almost choked on her tongue. “Yes.” “Go on then, girl, come on me.” That was all she needed. She rubbed her pussy on him, slick and insistent until warm, blessed orgasm surged over her like a tidal wave. She whimpered, welcoming the oblivion, and James seized her hips and sank her down on his length. “James, fuck!” She writhed against his shaft, sunk so deep his pubic hair brushed against her engorged clit. As her inner muscles strained to accommodate him, her orgasm plateaued, igniting the tangled webs of nerves deep inside herself so that she shuddered and moaned. James smirked like a blond Satan. “Feel good, sweetheart? Good as you hoped?” “Y-you tricked me, I wasn’t ready—” He leaned closer, the position a million times more intense with his cock buried inside her. “Darlin’, you’ve been ready since you showed up in those fuck-me heels. Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees.”
James’ hazel eyes closed, his hands clasped her hips. “Oh that’s so good, honey, ride me. Ride my dick.” James’ head was thrown back and the line of his jaw was sharp as a blade. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, she realized. Powerful and wild as the stallion on his ribs. James groaned, a strangled desperate sound. “Jesus, Charlotte, your pussy’s so goddamn tight, I’m gonna come.” He seized a handful of her hair, driving himself against her. The brutality of his thrusts made her scrape her nails down his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, I’m there. I’m fuckin’ there.” James went rigid, his hands biting into her hips, and he cursed long and loud as his cock pulsed inside her.
“Say something,” she whispered. “Please, say something.” James lowered his mouth to her ear. “Scream my name, slut, scream it while you come on daddy’s dick.” With a gush of slick warmth, her pussy convulsed around him. Her bound hands banged against the floor as she screamed his name so loudly, his ears rang. He slowed his pace, giving her a chance to recover.
Charlotte smiled and kissed his neck, his collarbone, any part of him she could get her mouth on. Gentle kisses that somehow got his motor running again. His balls tightened, the pressure built in his cock, but still he couldn’t get over the edge. James swore softly, plunging deeper and faster into her cunt. Charlotte’s eyes found his. She had a freckle inside her right iris, James realized, like an island floating in a sea of blue. “It’s all right, James.” She sounded so quiet, so sure. “It feels so good, I promise. Come inside me. Come inside me. Let me feel you.” She pressed her lips to his mouth and everything inside him clenched. At long, long last his climax tore through him like a tornado and all the tension in his body drained out of his balls.
Without breaking their eye contact she drew him back into her mouth. This time his shaft was slick and her lips slid down with ease. “Enough.” Charlie pulled back until only her lips were pressed against the head of his cock, like a bizarrely chaste first-date kiss. “God, darlin’, that mouth of yours…” She drove down again, as deep as she could get without choking, gripping the base with one hand and stroking his tight sac with the other. “Fucking hell.”
He ploughed into her with short, sharp thrusts, satisfying himself with her flesh. The warmth between their bodies was oppressive and her orgasm seemed to swell in the pressure, blowing out like an overheated balloon. “Oh God, James, James, James.” “You’re gonna cream, aren’t you, bitch?” Charlie had never been so sure of anything. He could pull out and leave her empty and she’d still come. James chuckled. “Even when I use you like a blow-up doll, you get off. Know why that is, Charlotte?” He whispered the words in her ear like it was a childhood secret, like a prayer. “Because you’re my whore.” Charlie screamed so loud the sound ate up the world. James pumped, once, twice, three times, then went rigid behind her, swearing like a sailor. They shuddered like animals, riding out their climaxes until they were both completely drained.
“Hey there,” he said, smirking like the arrogant prick he was. Didn’t he know he was ruining her with that lazy, insolent smile, with his tight abs and broad chest and his stupid square-jawed face? Who would she want to date after this? Who would ever want to be compared to him? He opened his mouth, possibly to offer another pointless greeting, and Charlie threw herself on him. She kissed him in punishment for making her wait this long, for destroying her chances of being content with some middling nice guy. She kissed the arrogant look right off his face. Soon she forgot everything except the feel of his lips against hers. His hands drew her forward and she eagerly clambered into his lap. They consumed each other, rocking slightly in his office chair until she hoped that by “lunch” James meant “a covet fuck against my desk.”
“If I was you, I’d be coming right now, instead of bored.” His blasé attitude was somewhat undermined by the small wet stain seeping through the front of his briefs. Charlie pulled his underwear halfway down his hard thighs. “We’ll see how boring I am, Mr. Hunter.” She examined him, stroking lightly over his blood-swollen cock, and when his dick pulsed in her hands, she bent forward to trace every last pulsing vein with her tongue. Slowly. “I know what you want, girl, and it’s not happening,” James warned. “What’s not happening?” “I ain’t gonna beg. You can tease me as much as you want and I’m just gonna lie here, silent as the grave.”
“Baby, I’m gonna go off. Come up here and sit on my face.” “Beg.” “Please,” James said with what appeared to be the utmost sincerity. “Please, honey, I need to make you come. Put that pussy down on my face. I’ll stay tied up, I just have to get you off. Please.” Charlie hesitated. “I’ll taste like lube from the condom…” “I don’t give a fuck. I’ll do anything, Charlotte, just…please?” She couldn’t battle her submissive urges any longer, she scrambled up the bed and positioned her legs on either side of his head. “Fuck yeah.” James arched his neck and eagerly drew his tongue through her cunt. The noise he made, like a starving man tasting chocolate, turned her skin white-hot. “That’s it, girl, don’t move a fucking muscle. Lemme take care of you.”
“James!” She threw her head back so far her body was an arch, rutting her hips against his talented mouth. He sucked her harder, urging every last vibration out of her climax. When she finally pulled away, there was no trace of arrogance on James’ face, no cocky sense of achievement. “Get on me. Get on my dick right now.” She climbed down his bound body and drew him inside her tingling, tortured flesh. He was close, she could feel it. She clamped herself around him and the aftershocks from her first climax throbbed to life. “Use me, Charlotte.” James’ voice was harsh. “Ride my fucking cock.”
He’d opened his door on Tuesday night to find Charlotte in a trench coat. She removed it to reveal an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a pole dancer; black stockings, a tiny, ruffled skirt and a sheer, black corset. The sight of her sweet face contrasted by such slutty underwear completely blindsided him. Before he knew what was happening, Charlotte was on her knees, unbuckling his belt and giving him the slowest, hottest blowjob he could ever remember getting. She’d sucked him lightly, running her tongue down his shaft and over his sac so slow he could feel the come surging up his shaft. In the final throes, she’d wet a fingertip and sunk it in his ass. He’d come so hard sparks had popped behind his eyes.
She walked toward her bedroom with legs that felt like jelly. Rummaging through her lingerie she selected ruffled cream panties and a sheer babydoll negligee that cupped her breasts and flowed down to her hips like the world’s most inappropriate dress. Figuring she’d go all out, she applied lipstick and mascara and slipped on her black Mary Jane shoes. She inspected herself quickly in the mirror. Nothing like a troll doll. Good. When she emerged into the kitchen, James’ mouth flattened into a straight line. He beckoned her closer, eyes cataloguing every detail. As much as Charlie wanted his mouth to fall open, she’d learned that the more potent James’ reaction to her body was, the more it looked like anger. When he’d opened the door to find her in stripper clothes, he looked like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall.
“James, can you hold me down?” “Anything you want. Anything.” He seized her delicate wrists and pulled them over her head, pinning them with one hand. Charlotte’s inner muscles clamped around him, as though she was determined to draw the come up from his balls. “Oh Lord. Tell me you’re close, sweetheart?” Her eyes were wild. Desperate. “I’m so close, please keep going. I need you.” I need you. The words went straight to his dick, filling him with a strange spiraling warmth.
She pushed him onto his back and he let her, kissing her breasts as they went over. He felt her wet heat kiss the top of his dick and moaned. “I swear, we don’t have to do this, baby.” He searched her eyes for reservation. There was none. Pushing aside any last doubts, James flexed his hips and slid himself inside her hot, bare cunt. Oh my fucking God. He wanted to die. He wanted to live and die in Charlotte’s pussy. She was warmer and tighter than anything he’d ever imagined, her wetness enveloping him in ways that felt both physical and not.
“Stay. Finish with me like this.” She moved against him in short sweet strokes, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. The words he couldn’t say before tumbled out. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Charlotte. I love this, I love your body.” Her response was to reach down and kiss him, pressing her entire body along his chest and bathing him in her scent. He sank back into the floor, dissolving into pure sensation. What they were doing was a million miles from fucking. It was that whiskey-warm feeling he’d gotten from taking her under the covers in her bedroom amplified to a thousand-fold. Every pressure point from his jaw to his toes was tingling.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Matthew Connelly Heroine: Jeannie MacPherson Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: November 1985 Started On: November 14, 2021 Finished On: November 20, 2021
Rocky Road by Anne Stuart is a novel that was first published in 1985 from Harlequin. Republished recently on major e-book platforms, from the queen of romance who can seldom do wrong, comes the story of 40 year old Matthew Connelly, head of the detective squad of the Chicago police force and 33 year old Jeannie MacPherson, who is running from her own demons of a totally different variety.
When Jeannie tries the neighborly tactic of trying to welcome Matthew to Muscatoon Island where she has been residing in for the past two years, Jeannie is met with resistance of the kind that speaks of a man wanting to be left alone. Posing as a painter, but recovering from both physical and emotional wounds from the last case that Matthew was working on, he is determined that he would keep to himself through his recovery, even if Jeannie tempts him otherwise.
How these two tangle is quite invigorating at times, but ultimately, the story turned out to be a frustrating one for me. I always felt as if Jeannie was the one who was doing all the chasing and wooing when it comes to Matthew. Matthew is one of the most reluctant heroes I have come across of late and he made me grit my teeth from frustration because of his obstinate nature and with his emotions under control at every turn.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love a controlled hero – to a point. A controlled hero is no fun unless the heroine has the effect of unraveling him and smashing through that iron clad will. But Matthew seems to be made of sterner stuff than most, and while I am all for heroines who choose to assert themselves and go after what they want, I found her ploys to get noticed by Matthew, while hilarious, to be a tad desperate at times.
Perhaps I would have been more appeased, had she cut her losses and removed herself from the situation that she found herself in and let Matthew come to her, when all was said and done. If he felt so deeply about her, that is something he could do as well in my opinion. Even the last scene does not really give the reader any sense of happiness if you ask me, because even towards the very end, the push and pull factor is controlled by none other than Matthew. In my opinion, Jeannie just settled for what Matthew was willing throw her way, because she was lost from the minute he limped into her life.
I would also have loved to learn more about Matthew’s past – the last case he worked on seemed to have done a number on him in every sense. I always felt as if Ms. Stuart had a purpose behind including tantalizing bits and pieces of the case, which perhaps could have been part of the larger plot, giving the story an edgier ending.
Recommended for fans of Anne Stuart who are looking to read her older books as refurbished titles.
Final Verdict: Rocky is the road that Jeannie travels when it comes to winning the affections of Matthew; there is no stone that she would leave unturned to win over her beloved!
He moved then, swiftly, gracefully, so fast that she couldn’t avoid him. “You forgot to kiss me good-bye,” he said, and pulled her into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers before she had a chance to duck. One of his strong hands held the nape of her neck in a viselike grip, the other arm slid around her waist and pulled her up against him as he kissed her, a long, slow, erotic insult of a kiss. She’d opened her mouth to protest and he’d taken possession of it, with a deliberate, sexual kiss that brought her blood racing to her loins and flames of fury racing to her brain.
For a moment she forgot everything, forgot her doubts, her better judgment, her sense of self-preservation, and she twined her arms around his neck to kiss him back. She was lost in the wonder of his mouth. In the dimness of the rocking cabin there was only the scent of his skin, the feel of his mouth, and the warm, wet, seeking pleasure of the mouth on hers. She wanted to get closer, closer to him; she wanted to climb inside his skin and kiss him from the inside out; she wanted to rip off her clothes and climb on top of him, to blot out the storm and her fears and her doubts and her loneliness that she never admitted existed. She wanted nothing but Matthew Connelly, and the demanding mouth on hers, the strong hands that were threading underneath her sweater to slide up her hot skin told her that he wanted her, too.
“Should I let you go?” His words came out on the breath of a sigh, and he was warm and strong and so very near. “Yes,” she whispered, and raised her mouth to his, no longer able to fight it. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her into the haven of his body, and she went gladly, mindlessly, sinking against him with a sigh of pure delight. There was no question that this was dangerous and very wrong, no question that she was a fool. And no question that it no longer mattered. She kissed him, reaching up to him, and it was long and slow and deep, and finished the last shreds of common sense left to her. His tongue was hot and rough and wet in her mouth, bold and demanding, allowing her no pretensions. She couldn’t be kissed like that, return a kiss like that, and still pretend they weren’t headed directly for bed.
He was with her, the force of his thrusts pounding her into the bed, and the ancient springs creaked in protest, a protest they both ignored as she reached for him, with her arms, her hips, her heart and soul, dissolving against him in a damp tangle of arms and limbs and love.
“You aren’t going to get warm standing there glaring at me,” he observed. Jeannie counted to ten mentally, then managed a smile as chilly as her icy flesh. “What do you suggest I do about it?” she demanded. “You could come over here and get warm.” She stared at him in amazement. “You think you could warm me Up?” “Oh, I think between the two of us we could manage quite a conflagration,” he said, and the rough silk of his voice began to melt the ice around her heart. “Come here, Jeannie.” Pride and common sense would have kept her rooted to her spot in the sand, but pride and common sense were at the bottom of the ocean.
She clung to him like a piece of rockweed clinging to a rocky shore, wrapping her arms and her body around him like tendril of kelp. Slowly the heat began to penetrate through her wet clothes, her salty skin, into her very bones, and then she was shivering with something other than cold, and he was shivering, too. “I feel as if I’m kissing a mermaid,” he whispered against her ear. She laughed against the solid warmth of his chest, a rusty, shaken sound. “You have been. Actually, I’m a siren, here to drown unsuspecting sailors.”
“But what if you can?” she said in a desperate whisper. “What if you can simply put it all behind you, forget about it?” “That’s what I’ve been trying to do all summer, and so far I haven’t had much success.” “But what if you could?” she persisted. He looked down at her, lying against the pillows, her russet-colored hair black in the moonlight. “Then I’ll find you,” he said softly. “And I’m expected to settle for that? A vague possibility?” Her voice wasn’t angry, only resigned and very, very sad. “It’s all I can offer.”
She arched against him, the warmth in her turning into a fire. Her hands reached up to cradle his face, and she kissed him, long and deep, telling him without words how much she’d missed him, how much she loved him, how much she hated herself for hurting him. He answered her, his tongue a strong, driving force within the receptive warmth of her mouth, telling her he would never leave her again. Slowly, carefully she let her hands slide down his arms, past his ribs, down the hard flatness of his stomach to touch him, hold him. His answering groan was reward enough, as he pressed himself into her willing hands, and she gentled and stroked him. His response was to delve deeper into her mysteries, the warm dampness of her telling him how much she needed him.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Contemporary Romance Series: Standalone Publisher: Self-Published Hero: Cullen Ayers Heroine: Everly West Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: October 14, 2021 Started On: November 07, 2021 Finished On: November 12, 2021
Previously published in the Tangled Sheets anthology as Spitfire, Burn for Me is the revised title with added content, released in October of last year. This is a dark romance and is not intended for readers who do not like heroes who push the boundaries beyond the popularly accepted limits in the genre.
32 year old Everly West is looking for a fresh start by seeking a teaching position at the Florence University. What had begun as part of Everly’s internship eight years back, requiring her to write an investigative piece on a local had ended up with a major human trafficking operation being uncovered, with George Ayers being convicted of the crime and sentenced to jail. The case had left its mark on Everly in a way that at times she herself cannot reconcile with.
Everly had spent the next eight years of her career trying to attain the same high to no avail. However, the staid teaching position that she takes up ends up being more than she bargained for, when on her first day of class, in walks 18 year old Cullen Ayers, the 10 year old boy now a grown man, whose life had irrevocably changed with his father being convicted.
Cullen’s hatred towards Everly is a palpable thing when they meet, with Cullen placing the blame on Everly’s shoulders for the shit show that his life had become since. Everly brings out the worst in him, the anger that he harbors is one that seethes, needing an outlet, a living being of sorts that resides in him refusing to be denied.
They say that there is a thin line between hatred and love, and perhaps that applies to the situation all too well. Because beneath all that anger, the attraction that simmers to life between Everly and Cullen is one that is like a live wire; touch it and you risk being burned.
What starts out for Cullen as a way to taunt Everly results in a passion that burns bright and hot between the two, and before Cullen knows it, Everly is in his blood, under his skin, and slowly making her way into his heart. For Everly, the fact that Cullen is her student and fourteen years younger are things that should matter, but she is tired of feeling like a dead woman walking, and with Cullen, she feels alive for the first time in years.
Burn for Me is not an easy read by any means. Cullen is a tough nut to crack, his hostility towards Everly reaching points of high where it almost feels like there is violence in the air that could do Everly physical harm. But Everly is no doormat heroine, and she gives as good as she gets, while seeing through to the belligerence that is part and parcel of who Cullen is.
But any fragile emotional bonds that is forged to life between the two is constantly under threat from the secrets that remain to be uncovered, with Everly ever so determined to get to the bottom of the story behind George Ayers, even if it means raising the ire of Cullen to new heights.
True to Sara Cate’s style, the story delivers a ton of angst, reverse age-gap protagonists, and heat of the kind that scorches your e-reader. I reveled in all of it and more, and applaud Ms. Cate for writing Cullen as he is; unapologetic, circumstances of life having molded him into a man hardened by life’s cruelties, but yearning for the touch of the one woman who drives him to the edge of violence over the possessiveness that takes hold of him.
Everly is a quieter force in the story, but just as potent. Cullen brings an edge to her life which she thrives in, the commanding way in which he treats her in the bedroom something that she has craved for, without even realizing the fact. All of this and more balances out their relationship, each giving the other what they need, which in the end made for a spellbinding read!
Recommended for those who love dark and edgy romances; Cullen is a force to be reckoned with in every single way!
Final Verdict: Cullen and Everly burns through the pages, scorching your fingertips, heart, and soul, leaving at times destruction in their wake, but always followed by love of the kind that is all consuming!
It occurs to me at that moment how much more I want to do with this new burst of energy—sick, twisted things I’ve never really thought about wanting before, and that thought has my cock getting surprisingly hard in my shorts. “You belong to me now, Miss West. And if you even think about calling the police on me or telling Coach or the administration, you might as well slit your own throat because I won’t let you sleep a wink without wishing for death. Do we have an understanding?” I snap, my tone laced with hatred as I grit out each word.
Our eyes meet for a moment, and there is no more smug indignation in her eyes, just fear. Something passes between us. It’s subtle, and maybe I’m seeing something that’s not there, but it looks like fire in her eyes, like maybe I love this and she doesn’t hate it as much as she should. With her tear-soaked eyes still on mine, I force her mouth shut. “Swallow.” She whimpers again and does what she’s told. “Good girl.” Then I wipe her tears with my thumb before shoving her away from me.
His mouth lands harshly on my lips. I’m too stunned to move. My hands are pressed against his chest, but not with enough force to actually push him off of me. In the recesses of my mind, I know if I really want him off, I can get away, but I don’t. I just let him kiss me. His tongue slides between my lips, diving into my mouth like he owns me, and I guess at this point, he does. The metal on his tongue surprises me for a moment as it slides against mine. He lets out a low growl when the hand around my waist squeezes me closer, practically fusing my body with his.
“No, you are not my fucking mother, Everly. Don’t you ever compare yourself to my mother again. You will never be like her. She wasn’t a bitch like you.” I let out a gasp and instantly try to pull away, but he grabs me hard by the back of the neck, squeezing so tightly that pain shoots all the way down my spine. “You’re hurting me,” I say with a whimper. Still, he doesn’t let up. Instead, he grabs my hand off the steering wheel and slams it against his crotch, and I lose the ability to breathe when I feel the rock-hard bulge in his shorts. “Hurting you gets me hard, Everly. You see how fucked up I am?”
“What’s wrong, Everly? You’ve never heard of hate-sex? A revenge fuck. Angsty, depraved, and dirty as sin.” My mouth goes dry, and I can’t respond. “Is that what you want? Because that’s sure as fuck what I want, and that’s why that asshole will not touch you, understand?” When his hands grip a handful of my hair, I shudder. Arousal warms my belly as he yanks my head backward. There was some reason why I shouldn’t do this.
The back of my skirt is lifted up to my ass as Cullen pushes his hips against mine, dry humping me from behind, and making me see stars with the way my arousal slams into me like a truck. God, I want him to unzip his pants and just fuck me right here. I don’t even care that I could be caught, lose my job, and be in the headlines all over again, but for much worse reasons. I don’t care. The feel of his perfect cock entering me with force would be worth it. My body is on fire, flames licking at my belly as he grinds his impressive length against my ass. “Fuck me,” I whisper, shamelessly. So fucking shamelessly. I should be the very definition of ashamed right now, but I’m not. I just don’t care.
“Cullen, please,” I beg, but he doesn’t give me what I crave. Instead, he teases me. Slipping his fingers through the folds, he slides a finger in roughly, making me cry out. Then, he pulls it out and spreads the moisture all over, pulling his hand out and touching his wet fingers to my lips. “Taste yourself,” he whispers, and I do. It’s erotic and filthy and sends my heart racing, a strange new feeling sprouting in my stomach, like being turned on by something that also makes me feel wrong and dirty. It’s so much better.
“Show me now.” With a hesitant expression on her face, she peels open her robe, giving me a view of her bra and panties before lowering the phone and spreading her knees. Peeling her thong aside, she aims the camera right at her beautiful pink pussy. My breath comes out heavy and loud. “Touch it.” “Cullen, no.” She’s putting up such a weak fight, it makes me laugh. “Do it, Everly. I need to see you touch it.” With the slightest huff, she obeys. Her fingers run through her lips, and I groan. I notice how her mouth opens, her breath hitching, and her eyes darkening in lust.
“Everly,” I whisper her name, the sound of it like satin on my lips. Her heavily-hooded gaze stares back at me as she watches me stroke myself. “I’m going to come soon,” she says in a high-pitched cry, and I bite my lip, loving the way her hand picks up speed and her chest stops moving. “Come for me, baby,” I manage to groan out just as my balls tighten, the head of my cock swelling as my own orgasm rushes to the surface in a hurried chase.
He throws his bag into my trunk and drops into the seat next to me, but he doesn’t hesitate a moment before grabbing my face and pulling me to him for a bruising, violent kiss. Time stops, and I let out a yelp just as he fuses his lips to mine. And he tastes good. Kissing Cullen is like visiting a private place all on your own, where there are no rules or witnesses. I don’t necessarily kiss him back, but when his tongue presses its way into my mouth, I let it. He nips at my lips as he consumes me, and I try to stop time. I don’t want to open my eyes and face his disdain for me anymore. I just want to exist in this kiss.
Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes hooded with lust, like it’s the only thought on her mind—need, want, lust. When we reach the master bathroom, she turns to flip on the shower before spinning back toward me to pull up my shirt. It’s the first time she’s really taken control, letting herself express how much she wants me, and I like it. Everly wants me, and even though it’s not like she’s the first woman to want me, the attention warms a part of me that’s always felt cold and dead before.
While I’m staring at the mirror, she glides her hands along my abs and up to my pecs, skimming her fingers softly over my nipples, toying with the barbell through each one. And even though my skin is still covered in a thin sheen of sweat, she leans forward and kisses my chest. A groan builds softly from the base of my chest, growing louder as her mouth finds my nipple and her teeth bite the piercing there. Fuck, I’m not going to make it.
Spinning her around so her back is against me, I hold her tightly across the chest with one arm as I plunge my fingers in again. Writhing against me, she cries out as I stroke her relentlessly. I want her as close to coming as I can get her. Clutching onto my arm, she hangs from my hold as I zero in on her clit, rubbing it so hard I know she’s teetering somewhere between pain and pleasure. “Cullen,” she gasps in a plea. She’s begging me for more. My dick is pressed against her back, and I squeeze her closer. God, I want to fuck her so badly, but I can’t. I have to keep my head.
I put up a fight, crawling away, but he grabs me by the ankle, jerking me toward him. Letting out a scream laced with laughter, I push away from him, but he’s so much stronger than I am. Plus, I don’t really hate the idea of being at Cullen’s mercy, not anymore. This thing between us has morphed from actual torment to superficial torment, like we’re playing the parts, fulfilling roles. He is my punisher, and I am welcoming my discipline.
He climbs onto the bed, covering my body with his. He wrestles my wrists from my chest and pins them above my head. Looking into his eyes with a dare on my face, I say, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He hears the challenge in my voice and smiles wickedly. “I don’t think you deserve to finish,” he growls, abruptly kissing my neck. His lips and teeth are both soft and rough, kissing and nibbling, making me squirm with the too-good and too-painful contradiction, which is really just Cullen in a nutshell, isn’t it? I want all of him and none of him at the same time.
He strokes my hair again. He’s not forcing me, and I know I don’t have to, but I want to. So I lift my head and slowly pull down the elastic waistband of his pants and reach for his cock. I am not hurried or frantic as I slowly wrap my hand around him, watching his face for signs of pleasure when I squeeze. His eyes threaten to close as I stroke him once, then twice. With my gaze on his, I shift closer, so I can run my tongue along his shaft. He moans and presses his fingers subtly against my head. He wants more, and I want to give it to him. I don’t even care that I’m not going to get off. I’ll do it just to watch the way he comes and to hear the sounds he makes as I unravel him piece by piece.
I don’t expect him to do what he does next, so I’m reaching for him when he drops to his knees and buries his face between my legs. The warmth of his wet mouth is intense, so intense, I let out a strangled cry as his tongue punches hard into me. It’s almost too much, but it’s him, and he’s touching me, and I let myself melt into that thought. “Cullen,” I gasp, arching my back and burying my hands in his hair. He moans, pressing his mouth harder against me, his tongue going deeper. Hooking his arms under my thighs, he practically fuses his lips to my body.
“Cullen, please!” He’s on top of me in a heartbeat, devouring my mouth the way he was just devouring my sex, making me taste myself. Making me like it. I feel his thick erection heavy on my belly as he kisses me. My eyes are squeezed shut, tears still streaming when I wrap my legs around him, inviting him in. “You still want to fight me?” he mutters darkly against my mouth. “You still want to pretend you’re not mine?” When I try to shift my hips to meet his cock, he takes a hold of my face under my chin to keep me still. “Fucking open your eyes, Everly.”
Tell me you hate me now,” he grits out as he pulls back and slams in again. His hands clutch me hard, one behind my neck and the other around my waist. “I hate you,” I whisper, as another batch of tears flow out of my eyes. I’m not sad or scared or hurt, but the intensity of the moment forces them out, and I can’t stop them now.
“Relax, Everly.” “I’m not used to relaxing around you.” With my opposite hand, I grab a handful of her hair and pull her upright so my mouth is next to her ear. “Do you think I really want to hurt you?” “Yes.” “You’re wrong. I want you to be my dirty little slut. I want to fuck your brains out and make you come so hard you see stars. Can I do that?” She lets out a sweet little breath and nods. “Yes.”
“Come on, Cullen. You’re angry. Give me your anger. I can take it.” His mouth slams against mine so hard, I’m sure it’ll bruise. It takes me by surprise, as he owns my mouth in a possessive, harsh kiss. Thrusting his tongue into my mouth, I remind my body to give up the fight, and he dominates me. I have to trust that he won’t take it too far. I have absolutely nothing to base that on, but I will do this for him. When he bites my bottom lip, a shock of pain makes me panic, and I let out a whimper.
And he was right. It’s nothing like before. We’re not connecting on a deeper level or savoring the feel of each other. He’s fucking me hard without emotion. No, there is emotion. It’s resentment and rage and dread. He’s fucking me in frustration, and like he said, this is for him, not me. Still, my body responds, purring under the almost violent, overwhelming motion of his thrusts. “Harder,” I gasp before I catch myself. He picks up speed, filling the room with the sounds of our bodies slamming together. I don’t even cry out when sparks ignite every nerve in my body, throwing me into a silent fit of pleasure. I keep quiet, keeping my orgasm to myself.
Her back arches and she cries out. It’s a delicious sensation, but I need more. I need everything with her. Kissing her collarbone, I lick up the water clinging to her skin from her neck to her earlobe. Every moment our bodies are fused makes me feel whole, like she is the piece I was missing. “I want you to come inside me.” She tilts her hips, grinding herself on me. Her arms wrap around my neck, our lips pressed together as our bodies move in one fluid motion. “Fuck, Everly…” I moan.
She pulls away from the kiss for a moment and stares up at me. “Give it to me, Cullen. Give me your pleasure.” She winds her fingers in mine, clasping our hands firmly together as I thrust harder. When I feel myself shuddering and fighting it, she squeezes my hand even tighter. With our mouths pressed together, I cry out, “I’m coming.” The climax spreads through my body, lasting forever as it clamps down and breaks me, shattering every fragment of who I am until there is nothing left. Until I am nothing but hers.