by Shayla Black
“Y—you did?” To say she looked shocked was like saying the Yankees had a few fans. “But that was…a year ago. More than that.”
“That’s when I started to hope that maybe we could work this out. If you don’t like the house, we can sell it and move—”
“I love the house.” She hesitated, bit her lip shyly. “I love you.”
He had to have her now, wrapped around him, all his. Scooping her up, Noah came up on his knees so she straddled his lap. Then he reached back and tugged away the bonds around her ankles. Lauren wrapped her legs around him immediately.
Clutching her in return, he maneuvered his way to his back and settled her astride him. He pressed deep into her slick folds, right against her cervix. She gasped.
Oh, this was one of his favorite positions. Not only did it feel damn fine, it was easy to get a woman off over and over…and watch the whole show. And he’d never made love to Lauren in this way.
Noah wanted to change that. Now. But…
“I’ve said my piece, sugar. I hope you know I love you.” He pushed a wild tangle of tawny hair away from her flushed face and ran his thumb across her swollen lips. “But it’s up to you. Are you staying?”
“Oh, you can’t get rid of me.” A smile broke out across Lauren’s face as she eased up on his cock, then back down.
He gasped. “I’d never want to. I’ve never loved a woman until you. I waited for so long, wanted you for years…”
Smiling, she leaned in, brushing sweet, swollen nipples across his chest. When she wriggled her hips and writhed over him again, Noah sucked in another sharp breath.
“I have a naughty little secret,” she said, then put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I wanted you for years, too.”
He paused. “Years?”
“Since before the divorce. I’ve been in love with you since the night you took me out for my birthday and didn’t take me to bed.”
Lauren had loved him for over two years! Thrill slid through him, tingling across his skin. The sensation spiked straight up to euphoria a moment later. Another pistoning of Lauren’s hips, and he added ecstasy to the mix for a sensation so exquisite, so powerful, so unlike anything he’d ever felt with any other woman, Noah had to grit his teeth and grip her hips to stop the climax rushing through him.
But when she pulsed and fluttered around him, crying his name in a high-pitched scream, he couldn’t stop the unstoppable.
Orgasm hit Noah with all the subtlety of a freight train. His arms flew around her, holding her close as he arched up, as deep inside her as he could reach. And she took him, gasping, her pussy milking him in hard clamps in an agonizing blitz that seemed to last a blissful eternity.
After a few quiet moments, his heartbeat calmed. His breathing slowed. And he couldn’t stop smiling as he angled their bodies to the side of the bed and reached into the drawer of his nightstand.
Lauren lifted her head with a sated groan, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, her hair wild. She’d never looked more beautiful.
Through slitted eyes, she saw where his hand was headed and frowned. “If you’re reaching for the condoms…um, it’s too late, I think.”
Noah just laughed, grabbed what he wanted in his big palm, and shut the drawer. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“No place else I’d rather be. No one I’d ever rather be with,” she whispered.
The words went straight to his heart.
“Make me even happier,” he murmured, staring straight into her chocolate eyes that all but melted him with her warmth. “Marry me.”
He opened his palm and produced a small box.
Lauren’s eyes widened. Her long gasp stopped his heart. Shit, was he moving too fast again? Planning too much for her?
“Sugar, don’t panic.” He closed his fist, hiding the box. “No rush. We can take it as slow as—”
“Are you kidding? We’ve wasted too much time as it is. Yes!” she squealed, then leaned down to pepper his face with kisses.
The sound reverberated through him, echoing with joy. He sighed, relaxed. Exhaled.
Everywhere she touched him was wet, and he gripped her shoulders and sat her up so he could see her face. Happy tears doused her cheeks. Noah brushed them away with his thumbs.
“You’re sure?” His chest tightened with an anxious ache as he waited.
She nodded happily—and cried some more. “Yes.”
“Don’t you want to see the ring first?” He opened his hand again, right under her gaze.
Lauren glanced at the little blue box, then again at him. A reproachful smile crept across her face. “When did you buy this?”
Noah couldn’t hold back his sheepish expression. “The day your divorce was final.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, Mr. Reeves.”
“Pretty determined, soon-to-be Mrs. Reeves. If you don’t like it, we can find something else.”
But as she lifted the lid and was nearly blinded by the ring’s beauty, she acknowledged that Noah had fabulous taste in just about everything—clothes, wine, food…a wife, she thought with a giggle.
“Have you already picked our wedding date, location, florist, caterer—the works?”
A laugh of pure happiness rolled out of him. “I have ideas, but if you’d like to plan it, sugar, you’re welcome to.”
“Wow, that’s very…accommodating of you.”
He grabbed the ring from the box, slid it on her finger, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I learn. Slowly sometimes, but I learn.”
“And what do you want in return for all this magnanimous behavior?”
He cupped her cheek and delved into her gaze. “To love you. For you to love me back. The rest, we’ll plan together. Think you can handle that?”
A long, sigh-filled kiss later, she murmured, “I do.”
Theirs to Cherish
Wicked Lovers, Book 8
By Shayla Black
Now Available!
Click here to purchase.
The perfect place for a woman on the run to disappear…
Accused of a horrific murder she didn’t commit, former heiress Callie Ward has been a fugitive since she was sixteen—until she found the perfect hideout, Club Dominion. The only problem is she’s fallen for the club’s Master, Mitchell Thorpe, who keeps her at arm’s length. Little does she know that his reasons for not getting involved have everything to do with his wounded heart…and his consuming desire for her.
To live out her wildest fantasies…
Enter Sean Kirkpatrick, a Dom who’s recently come to Dominion and taken a pointed interest in Callie. Hoping to make Thorpe jealous, she submits to Sean one shuddering sigh at a time. It isn’t long before she realizes she’s falling for him too. But the tender lover who’s slowly seducing her body and earning her trust isn’t who he claims…
And to fall in love.
When emotions collide and truths are exposed, Sean is willing to risk all to keep Callie from slipping through his fingers. But he’s not the only man looking to stake a claim. Now Callie is torn between Sean and Thorpe, and though she’s unsure whom she can trust, she’ll have to surrender her body and soul to both—if she wants to elude a killer…
* * * *
Callie trembled as she lay back on the padded table and Sean Kirkpatrick’s strong fingers wrapped around her cuffed wrist, guiding it back to the bindings above her head.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured.
He paused, then drew in a breath as if he sought patience. “Breathe, lovely.”
That gentle, deep brogue of his native Scotland brought her peace. His voice both aroused and soothed her, and she tried to let those feelings wash through her. “Can you do that for me?” he asked.
His fingers uncurled from her wrist, and he grazed the inside of her outstretched arm with his knuckles. As always, his touch was full of quiet strength. He made her ache. She shivered again, this time for an entirely different reason.
&nb
sp; “I’ll try.”
Sean shook his head, his deep blue eyes seeming to see everything she tried to hide inside. That penetrating stare scared the hell out of her. What did he see when he looked at her? How much about the real her had he pieced together?
The thought made her panic. No one could know her secret. No one. She’d kept it from everyone, even Thorpe, during her four years at Dominion. She’d finally found a place where she felt safe, comfortable. Of course she’d have to give it up someday, probably soon. She always did. But please, not yet.
Deep breath. Don’t panic. Sean wants your submission, not your secrets.
“You’ll need to do better than try. You’ve been ‘trying’ for over six months,” he reminded her gently. “Do you think I’d truly hurt you?”
No. Sean didn’t seem to have a violent bone in his body. He wasn’t a sadist. He never gripped her harshly. He never even raised his voice. She’d jokingly thought of him as the sub whisperer because he pushed her boundaries with a gentleness she found both irresistible and insidious. Certainly, he’d dragged far more out of her than any other man had. Tirelessly, he’d worked to earn her trust. Callie felt terrible that she could never give it, not when doing so could be fatal.
Guilt battered her. She should stop wasting his time.
“I know you wouldn’t,” she assured, blinking up at him, willing him to understand.
“Of course not.” He pressed his chest over hers, leaning closer to delve into her eyes.
Callie couldn’t resist lowering her lids, shutting out the rest of the world. Even knowing she shouldn’t, she sank into the soft reassurance of his kiss. Each brush of his lips over hers soothed and aroused. Every time he touched her, her heart raced. Her skin grew tight. Her nipples hardened. Her pussy moistened and swelled. Her heart ached. Sean Kirkpatrick would be so easy to love.
As his fingers filtered into her hair, cradling her scalp, she exhaled and melted into his kiss—just for a sweet moment. It was the only one she could afford.
A fierce yearning filled her. She longed for him to peel off his clothes, kiss her with that determination she oft en saw stamped into his eyes, and take her with the single-minded fervor she knew he was capable of. But in the months since he’d collared her, he’d done nothing more than stroke her body, tease her, and grant her orgasms when he thought she’d earned them. She hadn’t let him fully restrain her. And he hadn’t yet taken her to bed.
Not knowing the feel of him deep inside her, of waiting and wanting until her body throbbed relentlessly, was making her buckets full of crazy.
After another skillful brush of his lips, Sean ended the kiss and lifted his head, breathing hard. She clung, not ready to let him go. How had he gotten under her skin so quickly? His tenderness filled her veins like a drug. The way he had addicted Callie terrified her.
“I want you. Sean, please . . .” She damn near wept.
With a broad hand, he swept the stray hair from her face. Regret softened his blue eyes before he ever said a word. “If you’re not ready to trust me as your Dom, do you think you’re ready for me as a lover? I want you completely open to me before we take that step. All you have to do is trust me, lovely.”
Callie slammed her eyes shut. This was so fucking pointless. She wanted to trust Sean, yearned to give him everything—devotion, honesty, faith. Her past ensured that she’d never give any of those to anyone. But he had feelings for her. About that, she had no doubt. They’d grown just as hers had, unexpectedly, over time, a fledgling limb morphing into a sturdy vine that eventually created a bud just waiting to blossom . . . or die.
She knew which. They could never have more than this faltering Dom/sub relationship, destined to perish in a premature winter.
She should never have accepted his collar, not when she should be trying to keep her distance from everyone. The responsible choice now would be to call her safe word, walk out, quit him. Release them both from this hell. Never look back.
For the first time in nearly a decade, Callie worried that she might not have the strength to say good-bye.
What was wrong with her tonight? She was too emotional. She needed to pull up her big-girl panties and snap on her bratty attitude, pretend that nothing mattered. It was how she’d coped for years. But she couldn’t seem to manage that with Sean.
“You’re up in your head, instead of here with me,” he gently rebuked her.
Another dose of guilt blistered her. “Sorry, Sir.”
Sean sighed heavily, stood straight, then held out his hand to her. “Come with me.”
Callie winced. If he intended to stop the scene, that could only mean he wanted to talk. These sessions where he tried to dig through her psyche became more painful than the sexless nights she spent in unfulfilled longing under his sensual torture.
Swallowing down her frustration, she dredged up her courage, then put her hand in his.
Holding her in a steady grip, Sean led her to the far side of Dominion’s dungeon, to a bench in a shadowed corner. As soon as she could see the rest of the room, Callie felt eyes on her, searing her skin. With a nonchalant glance, she looked at the others scening around them, but they seemed lost in their own world of pleasure, pain, groans, sweat, and need. A lingering sweep of the room revealed another sight that had the power to drop her to her knees. Thorpe in the shadows. Staring. At her with Sean. His expression wasn’t one of disapproval exactly . . . but he wasn’t pleased.
For more information or to purchase, click here.
A View to a Thrill
Master and Mercenaries, Book 7
By Lexi Blake
Coming August 19, 2014
A Spy without a Country
Simon Weston grew up royal in a place where aristocracy still mattered. Serving Queen and country meant everything to him, until MI6 marked him as damaged goods and he left his home in disgrace. Ian Taggart showed him a better way to serve his fellow man and introduced him to Sanctum, a place to pursue his passion for Dominance and submission. Topping beautiful subs was a lovely distraction until he met Chelsea, and becoming her Master turned into Simon’s most important mission.
A Woman without Hope
Chelsea Dennis grew up a pawn to the Russian mob. Her father’s violent lessons taught her that monsters lurked inside every man and they should never be trusted. Hiding in the shadows, she became something that even the monsters would fear—an information broker who exposed their dirty secrets and toppled their empires. Everything changed when Simon Weston crossed her path. Valiant and faithful, he was everything she needed—and a risk she couldn’t afford to take.
A Force too Strong to Resist
When dark forces from her past threaten her newfound family at Sanctum, Chelsea must turn to Simon, the one man she can trust with her darkest secrets. Their only chance to survive lies in a mystery even Chelsea has been unable to solve. As they race to uncover the truth and stay one step ahead of the assassins on their heels, they will discover a love too powerful to deny. But to stop a killer, Simon just might have to sacrifice himself…
* * * *
Chelsea looked at the bed that dominated the room. The only bed. Somehow she’d managed to find the shitty motel that didn’t have two queens. No. It was way worse. It was a single queen and there was no couch. And she was pretty sure the floor was covered in disease. “I think I should sleep somewhere else. We need to find another room.”
Blue eyes stared a hole through her. Somehow his eyes managed to be cold and hot given his mood. The color shifted, lighter, icier when he was angry. As warm as the Caribbean when he was happy.
They often seemed so cold when he looked at her. “Your contact said to meet here. We’re staying here.”
“He told me to meet him here. I’m sure they have another room, Weston. You don’t have to sit up all night.” Because there was no way they could share that bed. It was too small. He would take up all the space.
He locked the door and set down his duffel bag on the table.
He shrugged out of his jacket because the man wore a three-piece suit on the run. She couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders and the way his dress shirt tapered down to perfectly pressed slacks. He tugged at the silver tie he was wearing, pulling it free and working the buttons at his throat until she could see the start of his truly impressive chest.
God, she hoped she wasn’t drooling.
The shoulder holster was the next to go in his inadvertent striptease. “You should get settled in. We have to be up early in the morning. I’ll take the side closest to the door.”
He couldn’t be serious. “Simon, there’s not enough room on that bed.”
He threw that gorgeous body down, making the springs squeak. “Of course there is, love. You Americans just like to take up an enormous amount of space. When I was a child, my brother and I slept in beds much smaller than this.”
“I’m not your brother, Simon.”
“I understand that fully. Believe me.”
She needed to take charge or she would make a complete fool of herself. “Look, Weston, you turned down my offer.”
He turned lazily, one hand coming up to balance his head. He looked like a pinup in a women’s magazine—all lean and predatory lines. She could see the write-up in her head. Simon likes tea, Scotch and eating subs for breakfast. His turn-offs include everything that comes out of Chelsea Dennis’s mouth. “Are you talking about your very charming offer to use my body to lose your virginity?”
She hadn’t put it like that. “You don’t want me. I get it. So let’s keep things simple. I hired you. I’m the boss. I’m going to see if I can rent the room next to this one and that can be yours.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t have to. She saw the way his eyes narrowed and then his voice came out, low and in that perfect upper-crust British accent that made her nipples hard. Her nipples were really stupid and she wished they didn’t like him so damn much. “You’re under a grave misapprehension, Chelsea. You are not my boss and you did not hire me. You came to me with a problem and I told you I would solve it. I believe I also mentioned that I was in charge and that was the only way I do this for you. So you will take off your clothes and you will get into this bed and you will sleep beside me tonight. I explained this to you when you signed the bloody contract. Do I need to explain what the word submissive means?”
