I’m super excited to feature Ashe Barker’s brand new Viking romance today! Held In Custody sees an intriguing time travel twist on Ashe’s historical erotic romance…
When he encounters an injured young woman while on a motorcycle ride on the small Scottish island of North Uist, police officer Finn Olsen immediately comes to her aid, but to his surprise her dialect proves all but incomprehensible to him. To make matters worse, she first tries to run and then does her best to stab him with a dagger after he catches her.
Recognizing that the woman is confused and distraught, Finn disarms her, handcuffs her, and brings her back to the local police station, which doubles as his home. Once she is in his custody, however, it quickly becomes clear that his beautiful, feisty prisoner comes from a very different era, and that she has somehow travelled forward in time more than a thousand years.
Finn takes it upon himself to keep the headstrong girl safe in a completely unfamiliar world, even going so far as to bare her bottom for a sound spanking with his belt when she attempts an escape. Despite her situation, she is deeply aroused by his bold dominance, and when he claims her properly she is left utterly spent and satisfied. But as they unravel the mystery of her arrival in the twenty-first century, will their discoveries bring an end to their newfound romance?
Publisher’s Note: Held in Custody includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Read a hot (18+) excerpt from the book right here…
He patted his lap and waited for Eira to resign herself to the inevitable. It did not take long. Eira edged forward from the head of the bed and eventually threw herself face down across his knee.
Finn lifted the towel to reveal the curved perfection of her bottom. He had, of course, had occasion to admire her body in the shower, though between the T-shirt and his own annoyance that opportunity had been limited. He took his time to savour her now.
Eira flinched when he laid his palm on the soft, tender skin of her buttock. He squeezed, then reached for the belt which he had laid beside him on the bed. Finn took the precaution of hooking his leg over both of hers to ensure she remained in place, and with his spare hand he held her wrists in the small of her back. He usually derived considerable pleasure from taking his belt to a willing woman and he was only marginally less enthusiastic about administering a decent disciplinary spanking. Now that he had Eira laid across his lap, waiting, he was ready to admit that this was where he had wanted to see her right from the moment he had set eyes on the woman on the road. Even so, he thought it best to get this done with quickly. It was late, they both needed to get some sleep.
Eira yelped when the first stroke landed. She wriggled and squirmed on Finn’s lap but he held her fast. After a few moments she settled and he delivered the second stroke. This time she whimpered but did not struggle. The third and fourth strokes were met with first screams, then sobbing. By the fifth she lay limp, weeping, her bottom sporting five vivid crimson stripes.
Finn laid the belt aside and traced each red wheal with his fingertips. He was gentle, but she hissed with pain even so.
“I am sorry, ” she gulped. “I will obey.”
“I know,” murmured Finn. “I know you will. And now, you know what will happen if you don’t.”
“I am sorry, also, for the knife.”
“That’s done with, I told you. It doesn’t matter.”
“I am sorry, even so.”
Finn eased her to her feet, then held her elbows until he was sure she was steady. “All is forgiven. You have been punished and we will not talk of it again, the knife or you disobeying me.” He pulled her to him in a hug then smiled up at her. “You must be tired. It is very late. I made a bed for you.”
“I know, in the prison.”
“No, not there. In another room. You can use it until you have somewhere else to stay.” He stood up and held out his hand. Eira took it, and he led her from the room.
“This is for me?” She gazed at the small but perfectly serviceable spare bedroom.
“Yes. You can sleep here. I’ll bring your clothes when they’re dry but until then you’ll have to borrow more of mine.”
“You shall not raise your hand to me again, lady, lest you wish to find yourself upended across my lap and spanked. Do I make myself clear on this?”
This Sunday, I am pleased to welcome the fabulous, Ashe Barker to my blog! She brings us her sexy new Viking romance, Her Celtic Captor, and there’s a naughty little spanking excerpt for you to enjoy coming up…
As the sister of a powerful Viking chief, Brynhild Freysson is used to giving orders and having them obeyed, which makes it all the more difficult to accept when she suddenly finds herself at the mercy of a Celtic warrior intent on bringing her back to his village whether she likes it or not.
Taranc was a leader of his people before he was taken captive by Viking raiders, and now that he is a free man once more he has no intention of allowing a headstrong Norse woman to slow down his journey home with her stubborn disobedience. When Brynhild refuses to do as she is told, he wastes no time in baring her bottom for a thorough switching, and he makes it quite clear that she can expect even more painful and humiliating punishments if she continues to defy him.
Though her hatred of the Celts runs deep, Taranc’s stern dominance awakens desires in Brynhild that she thought she would never feel again, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her properly it is more pleasurable than she would have thought possible. But though her passion for him grows by the day, can she ever truly love a man whose people are enemies of her own?
Publisher’s Note: Her Celtic Captor is a stand-alone sequel to Her Rogue Viking and Her Dark Viking. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book
Check out this sizzling snippet, and then one-click this hot book today!
Yes, she was scared, and Taranc believed this was real. Her submission might be forced, but she recognised his power over her however much she might deplore it and had abandoned her attempts to resist, to refuse to cooperate. She might yet learn a valuable lesson this day.
Taranc took the blanket and tugged it away from her body. Brynhild flinched as the cool morning air caressed her naked back. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, her expression fearful. “Please…” she mouthed.
Taranc moved in close and lifted the heavy length of her unbound hair which cascaded down her back. He draped it over her shoulder and on impulse bent to kiss the top of her head. “This will be quick, Brynhild. I promise. And you will come to no harm.”
She closed her beautiful azure eyes again, and nodded.
Taranc wasted no time in retrieving his belt which had been flung to the deck in the scramble for the knife. He removed the empty sheath and folded its length so he could grasp the metal buckle within his fist. He walked back to where his captive leaned against the solid wooden pole, her body shivering. The marks of her previous punishment still streaked her pale buttocks, and Taranc believed he had never seen a sight more beautiful. Brynhild Freysson might be the most difficult, complicated and frankly demanding woman he had ever encountered, but she was without doubt the most lovely. If their circumstances were different…
He gave himself a mental shake. The circumstances were not different. They were what they were—awkward, dangerous and bloody inconvenient. He would do what must be done, and she would bear what she could not avoid. What came next he had not the faintest notion, but he would feel his way through this…somehow.
“Are you ready?”
Her lips tightened into a grimace. She made no further response.
“Ten strokes. I shall count. You may make all the din you like since we are far out of port and none but the gulls will hear you.”
A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and snaked its way across her pale cheek. Despite her reluctance to embrace the mast a few minutes ago he noted that she gripped it like a devoted lover now.
The belt whistled through the air. Brynhild let put a startled yelp even before the leather connected with her quivering rump then danced on the spot as the stripe bloomed on her skin.
“One.” Taranc shifted his stance to lay the next stroke a little lower and swung again.
“Two,” he announced as Brynhild gasped and whimpered against the mast. She clung to the beam as though drawing comfort from its solid warmth.
“Three.” He paused to allow her to take several much-needed breaths as she hopped from one foot to the other. Her bottom glowed red and he could almost feel the heat from where he stood.
“Are you all right?” He was impressed at her fortitude thus far, but felt compelled to ask even so.
Her answer was a tight nod and a flattening of her lips. Her body was rigid, her punished buttocks clenching hard as she anticipated the next stroke.
“It is less painful if you soften your bottom,” he advised.
“How do you know? Is this something you learnt from your betrothed? How often did you tie Fiona up and whip her naked bottom?”
A fair enough question, he surmised, though he considered it ill-judged of her to ask it right now. He was tempted to increase the punishment by a further two strokes but decided that might be unduly harsh. “No, I never had occasion to do so. I always found Fiona to be sweet-natured and compliant. You, lady, are an entirely different matter.”
And privately, he thanked the sweet Lord for that.
I am super excited to re-blog the latest hot cowboy offering from author, Mary Wehr. This book sounds smokin’ hot!
In Her Alpha Cowboy, we meet Josephine. When she is caught stealing from the mercantile in a small Texas town, eighteen-year-old orphan Josephine Bolton faces the prospect of a jail sentence, but she is saved by the intervention of a local rancher who mistakes her for a boy and convinces the sheriff that some hard, honest work would be better for “Joe” than being brought before a judge and jury.
Logan West has even less patience for lying than he does for thieving, and when he discovers that he has unwittingly brought a beautiful young woman back to his ranch he puts Josephine over his knee, bares her bottom, and spanks her soundly for her deception.
Despite her best efforts to ignore her attraction to Logan, the stern punishment leaves Josephine longing for the gruff, handsome cowboy to take her in his arms and claim her properly, and when he asks her to marry him she agrees. But after their wedding, Josephine cannot help wondering whether Logan proposed to her merely to keep up appearances. When she decides to run away again, will her firm-handed husband come looking for his naughty wife and bring her home?
Publisher’s Note: Her Alpha Cowboy includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book
Check out the smokin’-hot spanking excerpt below…
Josephine smiled. The fact that the world stood before her was both daunting and exciting at the same time. A warm breeze caressed her face and she let go of her worries, but only for a moment. The rumble of pounding hooves echoing from behind snapped her back to reality. She reined in the mare and shifted in the saddle just in time to see a man with broad shoulders gaining on her. Here we go again.
“Okay, mare, it’s time to hightail it out of here. Be a good horsey now.” She tapped the animal’s sides and off they went. A sharp, piercing whistle split the air and the mare immediately slowed to a trot then stopped altogether.
“No, no, please don’t stop.” Josephine coaxed and pleaded, but the animal wouldn’t budge. Damn.
As soon as Josephine slipped to the ground, the mare took off in the direction of the ranch. “Traitor,” she mumbled and broke into a run. If she could reach the distant tree line she could hide.
Suddenly her feet were peddling nothing but air. Her belly hit the saddle with such force it knocked the wind out of her.
“Let me go.”
“No way, you little horse thief.”
Horse thief? This was it. In no time she’d be decorating a cottonwood for sure.
Josephine’s life flashed before her eyes. “Are you going to hang me?” Her stomach rolled. She imagined her body dangling from a tree and vultures picking apart her dead carcass.
“No, Joe, I won’t hang you. Once I find a nice sturdy log you’re going over my knee for a bare bottom spanking.”
“Like hell I am!” A complete stranger looking at her ass? No way. She’d throw herself from the horse before she’d let him spank her. With a burst of adrenaline she wriggled and writhed.
“That’s enough.” The whack to her backside shocked her and she went still, giving Logan time to rein in the big horse and drop to the ground. He plucked her from the saddle.
“Put me down!”
Pinning her to his side once again, he carried her to a fallen log.
Josephine’s eyes widened. This was truly happening. He intended to spank her. Out in the open. Right now. She slapped at his legs.
“No, no, you can’t do this.”
“You deserve this, Joe, and you know it. You’re in dire need of a bare bottom whipping and I aim to see it done.” He sat down and tossed her over his lap.
Realizing that her virtue was about to go up in smoke along with her behind if she didn’t stop him, she sank her teeth into the back of his leg. Logan yowled, but didn’t loosen his hold.
“Please don’t do this, I swear you’ll regret it.”
Her wrists were caught and secured at her lower back. “Regret it? Not on your life. You just bit me, you little shit.”
Josephine giggled hysterically. Dear heavens, she was losing her sanity.
In this unique title, you become the main character, the story design yours to create. In addition to the original story thread, there are multiple new pathways to choose from, five different love interests, and a dozen possible endings. Will you find a happily ever after, a content existence, or a situation that completely surprises you? The choice is yours…
“You,” the college student, have been in love with Maxine as long as you can remember, but Maxine is straight, isn’t she? Despite feeling you have little chance, you sit through Maxine’s latest theatre performance about a dragon to show your never ending support as her best friend. Besides, Maxine’s promise of a surprise for you following the show has piqued your interest. But what happens at the show? Do you bump into an old flame, meet a busty beauty, connect with a curly haired stranger, lose your sanity, or curl up next to the love of your life? In the dark, under the stage, inside a restroom or a bar, the allure and desire for a happy ending is within reach… Choose wisely.
Today I am thrilled to bring you the talented, Pandora Spocks, with her long-awaited, new release, For Sparrow.This new release is a contemporary erotic romance novel, with a light BDSM theme. It’s the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection.
When Jessi Crenshaw’s husband Graham dies unexpectedly, she’s devastated. He’s the only man she’s ever loved. Just eighteen when she met him, she’s been married to him for twenty-five years. Now she’s lost her friend, her lover…and her Dominant.
But as it turns out, Graham had an inkling that his health was in decline, and he tapped his friend and protégé in the Lifestyle, firefighter and paramedic Judd Farris, to be Jessi’s Dominant until she gets back on her feet.
Judd is determined to fulfill his promise to his friend. But it’s a damn odd arrangement—a platonic Dom/sub relationship. With her fiery auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and audacious spirit, Jessi captured his attention the first time he ever saw her. At her husband’s funeral.
A man could go to hell for the things he’s been thinking. But they’ve drawn a line, and he’s going to stick to it.
Judd’s sexy good looks and his gentle confidence aren’t lost on Jessi. She’s torn between loyalty to the man she loved, and desire for the man increasingly in her fantasies. In the letter Graham left for her, he mentioned that she might find Judd attractive. But that’s simply ridiculous. He’s five years younger than she is. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Could he?
Judd’s a Dom without a sub, and Jessi’s a sub without a Dom. It’s perfect for the time being. Could it be that Graham had more in mind than merely a temporary solution?
And could it all end at the hands of a madman?
FOR SPARROW launches on October 3, 2017. Pre-Order it now for only 99¢.
After launch day, the regular price will be $2.99.
Brace yourself, here comes the scorching excerpt…
Flickering candlelight greeted them as they entered the bedroom, and Jessi saw various implements lined up on the bed. She looked to Judd.
“I wanted to create the right mood, Angel. Candles seemed the way to go.”
Slowly she approached the bed and lightly fingered what she saw there–a black leather crop, a rectangular paddle also of black leather, a black suede flogger, and a wooden spoon. Judd stepped beside her and slid off his black leather belt, adding it to the assortment.
When she turned to him, his expression was bemused. “Told you I went shopping,” he laughed. “Now, you’ve been such a good girl, I’m going to let you choose what I’m using to spank you with tonight. So what will it be?” He stepped back and folded his arms across his chest, waiting to see her response.
Jessi blinked and looked back to the items on the bed. Her head spun with possibilities, but suddenly she knew the answer. Dropping to her knees, she grasped her wrists behind her back and bowed her head. “Whichever one would please you, Sir.”
“Angel, you please me more than I can say.” He stroked her hair lovingly, then removed his shirt, tossing it into the bathroom.
“I think…” He reached down to help her stand, tugging at the dress gathered around her waist to pull it the rest of the way down. “I think we’ll get the biggest bang for our buck…or your butt,” he grinned, “with the paddle. I want you to stand at the end of the bed and lean over.”
Jessi complied, resting her torso on the bed, her head turned toward the slider overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond. In the dim light, she could also see herself, naked and bent over the end of the bed, reflected in the white sheer-shrouded glass. Her expression was wanton, needy. And she felt immensely happy.
Judd smoothed his hand over her bare bottom, pausing to tweak the plug. Jessi gasped at the sensation and felt the need in her core grow. She yelped when the first smack surprised her, but after that, she gave herself over to the sensations, the whack on her cheeks, the vibration in her ass, the tingle in her pussy.
At some point, Judd put down the paddle and used his hands to smooth away the sting. “Up on the bed and on your knees, Angel.”
Jessi complied, and he turned her to face the bank of glass. “Head up. I want you to watch as I f**k your c**t.”
She gasped, her eyes meeting his in the reflection as he impaled her with no further preamble. He pounded into her, all the while fidgeting with the red-jeweled flange of the butt plug. Jessi felt a release of fluid she was powerless to stop.
“Come when you’re ready, Angel. You’ve earned it,” Judd coaxed.
Needing no further encouragement, Jessi cried out as ecstasy overtook her, starting in her drenched core and radiating throughout her body.
“Good girl,” Judd murmured as her shuddering subsided. He leaned forward to kiss her shoulder. “But we’re not done quite yet. I’m still taking your ass tonight.”
Gently, he helped her down to her belly and slid her to the edge of the bed so that her feet rested on the floor. Using his foot, he pushed her feet wide, and he carefully removed the butt plug, wrapping it in a waiting towel. “What’s your color, Angel?”
She heard concern in his voice. “Um, green, Sir. I’m good.”
“Good. Very good.”
Next, Jessi felt a cool dollop of lube at the top of her crack and Judd massaged it around the hole the plug had vacated. That was followed by the pressure of Judd’s cock pushing at her entrance. “Breathe, Angel. Just relax and breathe.”
Jessi did just that, closing her eyes and focusing on the renewed sensation in her pussy as Judd pushed his way into her back hole. When his head pushed past her taut ring, he stopped, giving her a chance to acclimate before he pushed forward.
Jessi raised her head, seeking out his eyes in the glass door. She watched as he slowly pushed himself in to the root, and she saw his chest hitch as he forced himself to hold still again. At the question in his eyes, she nodded, and he gave her the full force of him, withdrawing abruptly, then slamming back into her, pounding her tight passage. He pulled her to her knees to gain better purchase, his balls slapping against her clit with every charge, and she felt her moment building again.
“Come with me, Jessi. I want us to come together,” he grunted, as he released himself for the second time that night.
Jessi saw sparks and screamed out her pleasure, continuing to shake as he slid from her grasp and collapsed onto the bed. Judd gathered her to himself, wrapping her in his arms as they both gasped for air. She snuggled in to his chest and he lightly kissed her temple. “I’m yours,” she whispered.
Allison took the time to tell us some more about herself, so take a look at her intriguing interview, and then read all about this
Thanks for stopping by, Allison. Is this your first series?
Writing as Allison West, this is the first series that I’ve done. However, I’ve written a young adult series that was three books.
How many books will be in the Victorian Chronicles series?
Right now there are only two books. I hope to write more, but I haven’t planned anything further.
I absolutely loved The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.
Favourite TV shows?
The 100, 13 Reasons Why, The Handmaid’s Tale
What makes a good story?
Characters with a solid backstory, a believable world –whether it’s historical, fantasy, science fiction or contemporary it has to be based on enough truth to seem real, a strong story arc, and a romance that is believable. I enjoy reading romances that aren’t just throw the characters together and let them make out. Obstacles and flawed characters are more genuine and real, they’re like us.
Tell us a crazy story about your life.
I recently got married and the week of the wedding, my fiancé was hospitalized in isolation for C-Diff. We weren’t sure the wedding would happen. When it came down to the wedding day, everything was beautiful, the ceremony was amazing, but at the reception – I was sick. We spent our wedding night in the ER and missed our first dance and reception. Talk about a crazy night.
In Little Brides, eager young Clara is looking forward to her arranged marriage. She has been waiting all her life for the day when she will meet her husband. Her father has spent many months searching for the man worthy of his daughter’s hand.
Clara learns that her future husband, Francis, requires the young woman to undergo a medical examination to ensure that she has remained pure and that she is as intact as her reputation. Clara has never felt more disgraced as she is forced to bare all of herself to the doctor, where she undergoes far more than she ever anticipated. Silently, she swears to herself that she will move past the humiliation and never speak of what happened with the physician.
When Francis pays a visit to Clara’s father to propose additional terms to the marriage, wanting to bring along one of her maids so he will have a nanny in the house for Clara, the young bride-to-be is shocked to realize that he was the man giving her an examination. Was he really a doctor, or was he playing the part to ruin her reputation?
Little Brides is the second book in the Victorian Chronicles. It can be read as a stand-alone story but it does follow the first book in the series: A Proper Punishment.
“I know you wish for a lady to join us after we are wed, but I do not prefer to have the company of Janie in your house. She has only caused me trouble and been in direct violation of orders that I have given.”
Francis nodded slowly as he listened to what Clara had to say. He found it interesting that she seemed to despise the maid her parents raved on about. “It is too late. I have already offered her the position to tend to you at our new home. There is nothing further to discuss. I assure you that if she has not been kind to you, Clara, I will make it so that she is.” He was not above putting a maid in her place if need be.
“There is nothing that you can do?” she asked, glancing up at him, meeting his stare. Her eyes were wide, filled with desperation.
He was not going to take back the offer that he had made. That would be uncivilized and improper. “I will guarantee that she does as instructed. If she cannot comply with the rules of our household, then I will be forced to let her go. Do not trouble yourself for how she has been, only how she will behave from this point forward.” Francis did not know whether Clara’s father ran a tight household or not, but he would not tolerate any form of insubordinate behavior. He wanted her to understand that, for her own sake as well.
“Is there anything else that you would like to discuss?” He was giving her the opportunity to be a lady, an adult, and an inquisitive mind. Once they were wed, he was to teach her to become young, a little, and would not deal in answering questions that were not hers to ask. As a little one, her responsibilities would be few and her worries would not be those of an adult.
“I do not know,” Clara said. The room was filled with silence for several long minutes. “You are a physician, I presume?”
In this red-hot book, Dante has been Erica’s savior since she was a child, protecting her from others, wiping her tears, making her feel worthy. Until, as the years passed, she began to feel something new…and a girl’s crush became a young woman’s unyielding passion. Though she ran away to Paris after Dante unknowingly broke her heart, even distance couldn’t quell Erica’s desire. Because she knows Dante well, knows what he’s capable of doing for a woman…and knows her submissive needs match Dante’s deep dominance perfectly.
Dante’s in trouble. For years he’s kept his burning ache for his best friend’s sister firmly in check. But now Erica’s back in the States, more gorgeous than ever. Worse, she wants to learn about BDSM—and she’s determined to have Dante as a teacher. He won’t let her near the club he co-owns with her brother—Chris would kill him—but he’ll “train” her at home. When he’s done, Erica will want nothing to do with the lifestyle. And hopefully her crush on Dante will be diminished…for both their sakes.
But Erica proves to be far more resilient that he’d ever dreamed, and Dante’s plan backfires in spectacular fashion, driving her straight into the clutches of someone far worse than another Dom. Someone dangerous, someone from his past…who’s going to make Erica pay for Dante’s sins.
Read this extended (18+) excerpt from the story, and then grab a copy of your own…
The teenaged girl hiding above in the barn’s hayloft watched as the man she loved pulled the woman roughly into his arms. As he kissed the woman’s mouth, the girl struggled not to cry.
The man stripped the woman’s clothes off—all of them—strewing them like so much rubbish on the filthy barn floor. He turned her to face away from him, positioned her legs so they were wide apart, then pushed down on her shoulders. The woman bent over and grasped the low railing in front of her.
The man pulled off his T-shirt, revealing smooth olive skin ridged with muscle and a dark trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from the belt loops. The girl bit down on her bottom lip in anticipation of seeing him fully naked. But instead of shedding the rest of his clothes, as she expected, he doubled the belt over, lifted his arm back and brought the belt down onto the woman’s bottom with a loud thwack.
The young girl stifled a gasp. The woman did not.
The girl would have been shocked into stillness if she hadn’t already been rigid as a statue, determined to not divulge her presence to the couple below. She could hardly believe what she was witnessing. However, her growing bubble of righteous indignation burst in response to the sounds the woman began to make. With each subsequent slap of belt against flesh, the woman flinched, but then moaned as if she reveled in this treatment.
The girl stared transfixed in a haze of disbelief.
Disbelief that slowly morphed into hot, pulsing arousal.
The man brought his belt down over and over until the woman’s backside was reddened and the voyeur upstairs was aching and restless and needing.
He finally threw his belt to the ground and moved up behind the woman. He fondled her abused bottom cheeks. When he pinched her there, the woman squealed—a high-pitched, desperate sound. And then he was unfastening the fly of his jeans. Before the girl could get a glimpse of the part of him she was longing to see, he shoved it roughly into the woman, who immediately screamed and shuddered as she orgasmed helplessly.
The man clasped his hand over the woman’s mouth as he fucked her. He fucked her at first with slow, controlled strokes, and then harder and faster until he was pounding into her, almost lifting her off her feet. And if the woman was making any more noise behind that big hand, the voyeur upstairs didn’t know. All she could hear was the blood pounding in her own ears.
She wanted so badly to be there, in place of that woman. The fantasies conjured by her inexperienced mind, of being kissed softly and taken gently by the man, dissolved away in the face of the reality of him.
She wanted him this way, in a way she’d never before imagined, with him controlling her roughly with strong hands, holding her down, making her take what he wanted to give her, taking exactly what he wanted from her.
The harsh lines of pleasure on his face made her crave to be the one giving him that kind pleasure, giving him everything he wanted.
The ache deep inside her became so overwhelming and so unbearable, she cupped herself and pressed, hard. And while the man she’d loved forever bucked and cried out his release, the girl came quietly, her teeth clamped together, with tears pouring down her face. And her heart breaking into a million pieces.
Erica fidgeted in her seat…for about the hundredth time.
The passenger beside her huffed and gave her angry businessman side-eye. She ignored the man, her hands hovering over her belt buckle, willing the “fasten seat belt” sign to make that “ping” sound so she could get off the damn plane. And get to him.
In the five long years she’d lived in Paris, since she was eighteen years old, she hadn’t seen him.
Dante. Just the sound of his name in her own mind gave her shivers.
She wondered if she’d somehow romanticized him. Was he really so devastatingly handsome, so powerful and dangerously sexual? Would he look at her with that dark, intense gaze, the way he did in her fantasies as she lay in her bed, alone, burning and restless? Would that secret smile of his still make her heart race? Would he make her insides clench and her sex moisten when he spoke to her in his deep, velvet voice?
Would he have a beer belly and a receding hairline?
He was twenty-five the last time she’d laid eyes on him. But knowing Dante, at thirty he’d probably look even sexier than he had back then. Gorgeous, infuriating man.
By the time Erica got to the baggage collection area, she was just about crawling out of her skin with impatience. Her stomach churned. While waiting for her luggage to appear, she rubbed sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans, realizing she hadn’t felt this nervous for a very long time. Maybe since the last time she’d seen Dante. She silently admonished herself. She was determined to behave in a cool, sophisticated manner—Parisian nonchalance at its best—not like some crazy, lovesick schoolgirl.
Trouble was, she felt a little crazy. And sick. And she was most definitely in love.
But Erica needed to get a grip. She was adamant that Dante finally regard her as something other than his best friend’s kid sister. She wanted him to see her as a woman.
And not just any woman, but hopefully the woman who could belong to him.
Dante leaned against a concrete pillar in the arrivals hall waiting for Erica. His eyes scanned the passengers as they streamed out of the exit door, until he caught a flash of red in his peripheral vision. His heart thumped faster. Then a large man moved out of Dante’s line of sight and there she was.
Madre di Dio, she was so fucking beautiful, Dante’s breath caught in his chest.
He knew many beautiful women, but Erica was unique. She was stunning, statuesque, earthy…raw. There was a kind of wildness inherent in her beauty. In his more fantastical imaginings, Dante pictured her standing barefoot in a forest, every inch of her milky skin and lush body bared, her flame-red hair whipping fiercely in the wind.
She was like a goddess of the Earth.
And just as untouchable.
Even with his sole focus on her, from the corner of his eye Dante noticed other men’s heads turning to look at her. It made him want to growl and bare his teeth at them like an animal. But he could see, as per usual, Erica was oblivious to the way she affected males of the species.
She was tall—six feet without shoes on—which put her close to eye level with Dante’s six foot three. Her frame was sturdy with broad shoulders and nicely muscled thighs. He could now see the worn-out, skin-hugging jeans encasing those gorgeous legs that just went on and on forever. Her auburn hair appeared red under the fluorescent lighting, but Dante knew once she was out in the sun, he would see the shimmery streaks of copper and gold.
He watched as she scanned the room, a deep furrow between her brows. He used to rub that spot with his thumb and tell her she’d get old lady wrinkles if she didn’t stop frowning.
She saw him then, and her face lit up, her mouth breaking into her almost-too-wide smile.
She broke into a run and before he knew what she was about, she launched herself at him, jumping right into his arms. He grabbed her under her ass while she encircled his neck with her arms and his waist with her legs—those long, strong legs he’d dreamed about having wrapped around him.
“Dante,” she breathed in his ear, “I’ve missed you so much.”
At the sound of his name on her lips in that honeyed, husky voice and her warm breath in his ear, a shiver racked his spine.
Dante didn’t speak. He couldn’t. His throat choked up with all the words he longed to say to her but never would. He held her tight instead, pressed his lips to her cheek, then buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply, inhaling her scent. She smelled of oranges, summer days and sunlight.
He reveled in the feeling of her wrapped around him; it felt so right to finally hold her this way. He wondered if it was his overactive imagination, but he could have sworn he felt the heat from her sex penetrating through their clothing, branding his skin.
The need to claim her clawed up from inside him like a wild beast that had been caged too long. Beads of perspiration broke out on his lip at the thought of pushing her up against the nearest concrete pillar and driving himself inside her. He ground his teeth and prayed for sanity.
They held on to each other for a long time, neither of them moving to break the connection. After this initial reunion, they wouldn’t hold each other like this again. This was his best friend’s little sister; she was off-limits to him. No matter how he burned for her, how much he wanted her to be his, she never could be.
Finally, with more than a little difficulty, he forced himself to loosen his grip on her. As she slid slowly down his body, lust kicked him so hard in his gut, he thought he would fall to his knees.
She gazed at him with those clear gray eyes that had always utterly fascinated him. Gray, slightly tinged with green, the iris ringed with a color so deep, it was almost as dark as the pupil at its center. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but it was as if his hand and brain spoke two different languages.
Brain: “Don’t do it. Don’t touch her.”
Hand: “I no speaka de English.”
He touched her.
He fingered a strand of her hair and then slowly tucked it behind her ear. Her breath puffed out on a sigh and her eyes fluttered closed momentarily. Dante closed his eyes for a moment too, envisioning how she would react if he really touched her. Touched her in the ways he’d been dreaming of for so many years.
He imagined that underneath Erica’s sassy tomboy exterior lived a passionately sexual woman who would be as fiery as the hue of her hair. If they came together it would be incendiary. They would burn the damn place down around their ears.
And if he tried to take control of that fire and passion—to quiet it sometimes, and stoke it to greater heights at others, based solely on his whims and his wants—would she fight him? He thought he might like it if she fought him a little.