by Ashley Black
“Always,” I whispered and then shook my head. I shouldn’t have said that. It reminded me of someone. I didn’t want to be reminded of that someone right now. Shit. I focused myself.
I heard fiddling with his supplies; he was panting slightly, which caused my pulse to climb a little. Holy shit. This was impossibly hot. His shadow fell over me, and the brush was back rubbing over my other nipple. “Your right breast was giving me the evil eye for ignoring her so I had to remedy the situation,” he explained.
I tried not to laugh, and only nodded.
“Stand,” Brett ordered.
Confused, I stood and then blushed in understanding when I felt the brush flicking against my ass. Ah, Brett, he was an unapologetic ass man. It felt amazing what he was doing with that brush, though.
“Oh,” I murmured as trailed the brush tip between my cheeks gently up and down, the friction was outstanding. I heard him replace a brush and take up another, then he was gently painting me. I felt the cool, wet texture of the paint it as he swept it deliberately at the curve of my bottom right near, he came close to my aching centre, but no closer, he kept working, I felt my lower half shudder appreciatively. “That feels outstanding,” I barely got out for my breathing, my face felt like it was aflame.
“Your ass is so fucking beautiful,” Brett murmured against my neck. “I could paint it all day.”
“Well that would be some kind of sweet torture,” I sighed happily.
“How so?” he breathed, returning to my ass with a dry brush, and tickling the entrance of my anus with it, as a hand rubbed over my right cheek and squeezed gently.
“Ah, cheating!” I panted. Damn, he better not move that brush!
“Finger painting.” He poked and swirled a finger against the skin to demonstrate his point. I loved him so much.
“About this sweet torture?” he prompted me again.
“I would need relief. I could not endure too much of-” My eyes widened when he increased the tempo of the flick of the brush at my quivering entrance, and increased the pressure. “That.”
“Who knew having your ass painted could be so dangerous.” He sounded amused, I heard the gorgeous smile in his voice.
“Brett,” I whimpered.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me now.”
He laughed, and the brush left my ass. “I don’t think so. I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
I heard him come round to my front.
“Do you want me to sit?” I whispered, shivering in anticipation for the sensation of the lash and stroke of that brush executed so skillfully by his insanely talented hands.
“Standing is perfectly fine.” His lips brushed against my mouth, and then he was rubbing a brush over my pussy, starting gently at the lips. I felt my thighs involuntarily part for him, giving even greater access.
“Exquisite,” he groaned, and flicked the bristles, concentrating on the outside of my lips only.
I felt a tremor pass through my body, and my hips jutted slightly. I was going to start making some very ugly sounds soon as I gave myself over to the heat pooling in my belly and the rapture Brett had started between my legs. “Fuck.” I bit my lip hard. “Oh.” My eyes rolled back in my head as I rocked gently against the exquisite sweet torture of the flick and rub of those bristles.
“Brett…” My hands were in his hair, fisting, pulling urgently. “Please.”
“You are very distracting.” Brett sounded very pleased with himself. “Oh, and you got my brush all wet.” I could almost see him pouting. “Let me go replace it with another.” I heard him get up. “I’ll be right back, wait here. You are going to love this!”
My heart was pounding as I awaited him, I heard him out the back of the studio, rifling around, and then silence.
“Brett?” I called out.
I heard him come back into the room.
His shadow fell over me. It felt taller and darker somehow, but then again, the light was different in here now as the afternoon marched toward dusk. I wriggled beneath the blistering heat I felt in that gaze upon me.
Sweet Jesus, the anticipation was killing me.
“Brett?” I asked again, and I ran my tongue over my lips.
And then his mouth was on mine. His lips caressed ever so gently, his teeth even nipped playfully at my bottom lip, and then he slanted his mouth hungrily over mine, and I felt the cold press of a ring against my chin as that mouth devastated me.
I felt everything clench inside of me all at once, like my body was clamping down, no admittance it screamed. Not Brett kissing me. Thornton.
“No!” I shoved him from me and ripped the blindfold off.
Thorn towered over me; he was now wearing that mask, and his dark green eyes stared straight through me. “Where’s Brett?” I shouted. My gaze raced toward the back of the studio, and I saw him lying on the ground, his head twisted at an odd angle, blood trickling from a gash in his forehead.
“What have you done?”
Thorn said nothing and gripped me roughly by the elbow, then he started dragging me out of the studio.
“No!” I wailed, I threw punches, I fought dirty, I kicked, I scratched, I tried to bite, but he blocked my every attempt to lay my violence upon him. Finally, I kneed him in the balls, and gained a momentary advantage, able to launch away from him, and toward Brett lying there like a broken toy on the ground. But he was too far away from me. “Help him!” I begged.
Thorn’s eyes flicked from Brett to me, and back again. “There isn’t time, I am so sorry, Elena,” his gloved hand gripped the back of my neck and pulled me backwards. “You must come with me now, it isn’t safe.”
“Let me go!” I screamed, digging my heels into the floorboards - fuck me, that hurt.
“Now!” Thorn insisted. He sounded terrified, he grunted and scooped me up in his huge arms, and cradled me, crushing me against his chest, I felt his heart pounding as he ran out of the studio, and it exploded into flame behind us.
I lost my mind.
“Brett!” I was tumbling out of Thorn’s arms and crawling toward the burning structure, but the blistering heat and smoke choked and dazed me. “Please, baby, please be ok,” I wailed.
“We must go,” Thorn said quietly behind me. “They’re here. It isn’t safe for you. If you want to live, come with me.” He didn’t await my response, he simply grabbed me by the hair and yanked me to my feet. The shock and pain of it startled me for a moment, and then I heard myself ask the question he still hadn’t answered. I asked it over and over again.
“What have you done?”
THRILL ME
Book 2 in the Teased and Broken Series
THRILL ME is the the second instalment in this blistering HOT dark romance suspense series
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If you enjoyed TEASE ME, make sure you follow Elena and Thorn’s story into the next exciting, disturbing, and darkly erotic Chapter in the Teased and Broken Series THRILL ME.
The hotly anticipated THRILL ME will be released in March 2016
In the meantime, want to take a sneak peek at the first sexy, action packed, heart SMASHING Chapter of THRILL ME? Well, ONLY my awesome subscribers will be the FIRST to have this in their hot hands.
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“I’m afraid of you Elena,” Thorn’s gaze fell from mine. “I’m afraid of what they will make me do.”
The mask was a frustrating barrier between us.
I reached up.
He stayed my hand, dark green eyes lifting to my mouth. “Please,” his voice cracked. “Don’t touch me.”
“Who are they Thorn?” I pressed, frustrated. Who was he running from? And was this all in my dark demonic ro
ck star’s troubled mind?
He bowed, lowering his masked head, and pressed it to my chest.
I shivered, at the shock of the sudden coldness of it between my breasts, unsure of what to do, or say next. I bet he could FEEL my heart trying to punch him through that mask of his as it went verily berserk.
The man broke my sanity. I had nothing left. I wanted to understand. All he gifted was mayhem.
“I must lick your heart,” he said eventually. Because THAT made sense.
I heard the playfulness in his tone, and in place of the cold unyielding rubber of the mask, his lips. He had rolled up the lower part of the mask to reveal that deadly and delicious mouth of his.
“You really are a broken toy,” I sighed. “Yes,” he agreed. “Don’t ever forget it.”
Synopsis - THRILL ME
Elena teased bad ass death metal rocker Thornton Darko (also powerful warlock), and broke him.
He has fallen in love with her, and she, at least, she thinks, with him, although everything inside of her is telling her he is a dangerous and rather insane, mistake.
After things turn ugly for Elena, and Thorn, with some in his loyal army of fans, turning against her and their so-called messiah, Thorn takes her away to Mexico, and they embark upon a blistering, hot, disturbing, and dark romance together. He affectionately calls it ‘project THRILL’, and Elena could not be more thrilled, and terrified, an intoxicating and killer combination.
When Elena’s gorgeous artist (and former special operations solider in Afghanistan) fiancé Brett thought dead, is instead, confirmed ‘missing’, Elena has hope that he will be found.
However, she is the only one that holds this view as every one believes that much like Thornton’s mysterious missing wife, Brett will never ever be found alive.
Then, the impossible happens, Brett shows up.
And nothing will ever be the same again.
Because Thornton will not let Elena go, and any one who gets in the way of his possession of her tends to get fucked up.
THRILL ME is one blistering hot ride of mayhem you won’t want to miss!
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Bound and Undone
Book 1 in The Bound for Pleasure Series
The insanely gorgeous and talented rock star Victor Trentham (or 'V') the musical genius behind the wildly successful band Distortion, has a dark past, even darker sexual appetites, and an unstable ex-wife. To V's delight, he is quickly brought undone by feisty graphic designer Gwen White who likes to break the rules, especially his.
V is contained in all things. He wields unrelenting control over his art, his body, his relationships. He walks through life in internal bondage, so restricted and retained. But when it comes to his sex life, he is rendered undone. He is deliciously free, even if that freedom looks a little dubious when he is handcuffed, ball gagged and face down to the floor.
He is addicted to a certain kind of arousal brought about by surrendering his power and control to the mind bending ecstasy that is found in his submission.
He is everything Gwen imagined, and more. She realises she has fallen for him.
But as his demands of her, and the threats from his unstable ex wife to their lives become more intense, will his dark sensual and bizarre world drive away the one woman who has so successfully ended his empire of control?
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UNHINGED
Book 2 in the Bound for Pleasure Series
Darker...Hotter...
Unhinged will leave you breathless.
Devastated by rock star Victor Trentham’s cruelty, talented graphic designer Gwen heals her shattered heart in the cheeky, easy going, less intense company of Distortion’s bass player; the gorgeous Ben Drake. He is exactly what she needs to get over V.
While the two of them grow closer, V begins to spiral out of control. He returns to his old ways of partying hard and binge-fuelled nights with drugs and alcohol. And Gwen couldn’t care less, until he nearly dies in a seemingly freak accident.
He can’t end.
She just found him.
V and his insanely hot body has become an unbearable, constant craving and distraction for poor Gwen. She tries desperately to move on with her life, rebuild her credibility as a graphic designer and deliver on V’s many un ending ‘specifications’ for the band’s album cover art; a truly maddening and impossible task in his presence.
Gwen and V reunite in an intense and darkly erotic explosion of interludes and he opens her mind to the thrill ride that is the world of his submission.
Against a backdrop of more terrifying attempts upon both of their lives by V’s cleverly evasive and unstable ex-wife, Gwen becomes increasingly frustrated. by V holding anything more with him to ransom until she can accept ALL of him, including the more disturbing flavor of his tastes, wants and needs in the bedroom.
Will V’s fear of something more than ‘play’ with Gwen, drive her straight into the arms of his bass player, Ben Drake?
And will V be able to survive if he loses Gwen?
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UNMADE
Book 3 in the Bound for Pleasure Series
It’s punishment time
I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to, which I didn’t, come on?
It was Victor Trentham.
So cold and broken.
We could have had it all, but now we were nothing.
Angered by rock star Victor Trentham’s unstable, rather insane, ex wife’s recent unspeakable act swapping his pain relieving medication for drugs that befuddled his beautiful mind, Gwen vows to get revenge.
She finds an unlikely accomplice in Papa Shadow who, other than her Father ex bikie hard ass Ian (who offers to put her onto various assassins), is the only one that has the time or inclination to help her crazy quest to bring this bitch down, and like EVERYONE, has been pushed too far by what Raven has done this time.
V is tragically in a coma that reports are not confident he will, not in some way, come out unscathed by, an act truly reprehensible to the music industry, to Gwen, to every one, past, present and future.
Against medical advice (of course), V endures, and makes an incinerating hot comeback on a world wide tour – Distortion have never been more famous, V is being regaled as breath defying, amazing, a thrall of intoxicating bad ass and elegance.
Behind the scenes, Gwen is struggling. V’s tastes in the bed room have grown ever darker, he only ever seems to be interested in being punished, she struggles with her guilt, and to be all that he needs her to be during this difficult time.
As the band continues to implode, V’s sexy cheeky bass player Ben Drake is there as an ever present distraction and temptation to Gwen who feels as if she is holding on so tightly to what her heart wants V and her to be that her soul is starting to bleed.
Meanwhile, Gwen is now firmly in V’s ex wife’s Raven’s sights, and threats to her life escalate, as she, and Papa Shadow draw ever closer to finding her.
When the unthinkable happens, will V and Gwen be able to survive something that will break both of their hearts?
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Dream Eater
"What the fuck was going on here? I wasn’t a rock star or a superhero. Much less a threat to international security, or as my lady robot friend who looked like my dead wife had put it best, ‘Armageddon.’ Now that was pretty damned impressive for a dude who had slummed it on the couch, barely able to drag himself into the boring as shit, corporate, open-planned office hell, and who starved his art and fed it on a demented watering can of reality. Sadly, the art didn’t like what reality was feeding it."
What if failing to act
on your hopes and dreams could KILL your life?
Fabian, a struggling, procrastinating musician slept walked through life just like everyone else. Until he didn’t. He woke up.
Stirred from the arms of his comfort cell, he awakens as a rock star, Faze Shadows. But discovers that waking up to a brand new existence, to powers beyond measure to the world practically at his feet. The fame and visibility he so sorely craved in the bottom of a bottle, is sadly, not without a price.
The ability to step outside of the Sleepwalk, has created the most hideous and terrifying of monsters.
A Dream Eater.
It was supposed to be an urban myth. Fabian remembered it well. The warning had made a chilling impression on him as a child - be sure to release your dreams, to live your dreams so they are not inside you when the Dream Eater comes for you at night.
The creature has an insatiable hunger for devouring peoples hopes and dreams. The more unfulfilled the dream, the more attractive to the Dream Eater.
All the passion, hopes, good intentions and desires we hold deep inside. Doing nothing. Being nothing. So many. Too many. Endless.
And it will never stop. Ever. Not until every life is empty.
But the horrible truth is that few people can act upon their dreams in the Sleepwalk sanctioned by the government. No one is safe. Not even Fabian. A life is destroyed with each dream that is eaten and the weight of them all are coming to bear on the Dream Eater’s creator – a relentless cold dark SUCK. Fabian is being unmade. He can feel it. All of him. Unravelling. He smells like glycerin, there is a taste he can’t get rid of in his mouth. He tastes like blood.
