Monday, 19 February 2018

#Dirtyxcerpt #Dirtyexcerpt #LoveMeHard #HotDad #BDSM single dad firefighter romcom







Only 99cents


Blurb

Sam

Since the moment I laid eyes on her I’ve wanted her.
But I wasn’t ready.
The kids were my world and my wounds were still raw.
For six months, I watched her from afar. Dreamed of her, lusted after her, fantasized…
But all that’s about to change. I’m finally ready to take the plunge and start dating again. And now that I know she’s single, I’m going to do this right and win Harper. I want her mind, I want her body, I want her heart.
And when she gives me all access, no limits, I know she’s the one for me.

Harper

He’s the one we all call Hot Dad at playgroup. The one who makes my knees weak and my panties wet every time he walks through the door. We all eye-fuck the bejesus out of him, and dream of his tongue between our legs.
But my kid is my world, and I’m a frumpy mom with a hole in the bum of her yoga pants. What could he ever see in me? So when Sam calls out of the blue, I’m stunned.
Now if only the kids can stop cock-blocking us, and his psycho ex would go away.
He’s turned out to be a master Dom and I’m willing and eager to be taught how to be the perfect little submissive.




Dirty Excerpt
Sam

I grabbed her by the elbows and hauled her arms over her head, pinning her hands into the pillows with one of mine. I held her there and gazed down. Pink bloomed on her cheeks and hunger swirled in her eyes. One hard kiss on her lips, and I dipped my head again and tugged a nipple into my mouth. Gently, but not without pressure, I scissored my teeth back and forth across her flesh. She sucked in air as she wriggled beneath me. Soft and feminine whimpers escaped her as I continued on with my torture. I kept her in place and worshiped her body with my mouth. Kisses and nibbles, licks and pecks. I raked my teeth across her ribs and under the gentle swell of her breasts until she bowed her back, shut her eyes, clenched her jaw and let out a growl of frustration as her hips pressed up to meet mine. I pulled away, lingering just above her.
“Too slow and gentle for your liking?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Sam … we’ve been cock-blocked so much, don’t waste time. You never know when Carly is going to wake up.”
She had a point. But I didn’t want it to all be over, either.
“Please, sir … fuck me?” She fluttered those damn eyelashes at me like some sexy little schoolgirl, and my cock grew longer and thicker against my stomach. I glanced down between us, and a drop of pre-cum beaded on the head of my dick. She followed my gaze. “Can I lick it off?”
Oh hell yes. Releasing her hands, I pulled her up so she was sitting. I leaned back on my heels and grabbed the base of my shaft.
“Suck it, baby. Suck it hard. I’ve thought of nothing but your lips wrapped around my cock since our phone sex date. I want to feel the real thing.”
With big wide doll eyes, she parted her lips, taking me to the back of her throat. And then she started to hum.
Humming!
The woman was fucking humming.
Oh dear lord.
My hands moved of their own volition, and my fingers entwined with the short tendrils of her soft hair. I pulled on her scalp, tugging her harder and deeper onto me, loving the vibrations and the way my cock felt in her hot little mouth.
With one hand she stroked me, root to her lips, but she never took me out of her mouth. Never. I was always in that decadent heat. Whether it be the whole seven inches or just the tip, she never let me go. Her other hand came up as she squeezed and tugged on my sac, rolling my aching balls around in her palm, giving them a little yank every now and then just to keep me on my toes.
I was close in a matter of minutes, but I didn’t want it to end. Watching Harper’s head bob up and down in my lap was so damn hot. I’d go to bed every night for the coming week with the image emblazoned on the back of my eyelids. I tapped her head.
“I-I’m close, baby.”
The humming grew louder. She tugged down harder on my scrotum and picked up her pace. When she brought me out and just left in the tip, her tongue darted back and forth over the head before wedging its way into the little hole. Jesus fucking Christ, the woman was a sorceress. Her eyes were closed as she powered forward until I knocked her tonsils, but she didn’t gag, she just kept going. A beautiful lone tear slipped down the side of her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb.
“Look at me,” I demanded. I wanted her to watch me come. Even if I shut my eyes and tossed my head back, I wanted her to watch the kind of pleasure she wielded.
Her eyes flashed open, and she looked up at me. Fuck, she was beautiful, and with my cock in her mouth she was goddamn stunning.
“I’m going to come so hard, baby. You sure about this?”
“Mhmm,” she hummed.
Her tongue coiled around my length, and she let me bottom out. I exploded.
It’d been ages since I’d gotten a blow job, but even with the distant memories foggy in my brain, this one took the cake. It wasn’t that her mouth was just that talented, or her diligence endless and her tongue magical, it was those big brown bedroom eyes gazing up at me as I spilled myself inside her mouth and she swallowed me down. The convulsions of her throat swallowing, milking me, only heightened the pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut, tossed my head back and groaned, pulling on the roots of her hair and bucking into her face. But she took it all. Watched it all. 



Sunday, 18 February 2018

NAUGHTY EXCERPT ALERT!!! #DirtyWords #LoveMeHard #RomanceCollections

             

15 authors.
15 HAWT stories.
15 reasons to sweat!

#OneClick HERE for ONLY $0.99!


Blurb:
Today’s dirty word is…
Jessa Woods has made it her career to educate others about sexual health. Whether it’s simple techniques, exploring sexuality, or spicing up relationships, her radio show, Dirty Words, is a local go-to for all things sexy.
Her personal life, however, isn’t so hot. With a jam-packed schedule and her work first and foremost on her mind, Jessa has little time to date, and her best friend, Jen, fears she’s become cynical.
When Jen slips her iPad full of steamy romance novels in Jessa’s bag before her big trip to a radio show festival, Jessa is less than impressed. However, after scanning a few titles and really looking at what these books have to offer, she realizes she may have been too quick to judge. After all, what’s the harm in examining some of these tropes?
Enter Dylan Masters, the always sexy radio engineer, who offers to explore them with her. Jessa’s always had a thing for Dylan, but she’d never cross that line with a coworker, and more importantly, a friend.
Well, except for that one time at the company Christmas party…
When Dylan proposes a weekend of hot, no expectations sex, Jessa’s determined to take the advice she so often gives and let loose. But she soon realizes their time together could end in total disaster.
Or, she may just come face to face with the dirtiest word of all…love.







Excerpt:
"Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
"It's a little...direct."
Jessa brought her fingers down to her wet flesh and drew large, lazy circles around her clit. "Dylan? This might be the only time this ever happens, so I want you to make it count. Tell me what you want. How you want it. Use whatever language you like. Sexy, dirty, hell, be downright filthy. Whatever you do, don't be shy."
He lowered himself to his knees, crawling across the bed to her, and stopped just over her sex. "Spread your lips open for me."
Jessa did as instructed, using two fingers to spread her folds, shivering as she put everything on display for him.
"You have the sexiest pussy I've ever seen."
"So kiss it." She murmured, heat crawling down her cheeks to her neck and breasts. "Show me how badly you want my pussy."
Dylan didn't waste time. He grabbed her thighs in his hands and roughly pulled her toward him.
She would have winced from the way his fingers dug into her flesh if it hadn't felt so fucking good. So fucking right.
He leaned down and opened his mouth until it covered almost her entire sex, then started to suck.
She moaned and arched her back off the bed. She grabbed his hair between her fingers and pushed herself against his mouth. His wet tongue ran up her flesh, inside her, then to her clit again. He licked and sucked on her sensitive bundle of nerves, his hands having somewhere along the way found her breasts. He rolled her hard and aching nipples between his fingers, squeezing each time he bit down on her clit, sending jolts of sensation through every inch of her body.
"You have no idea, Jessa. No fucking idea how long I've wanted this sweet little pussy of yours. I swear to Christ, I dreamt of it every fucking night."
"Tell me," she moaned as she raced closer to her orgasm. They wouldn't be able to go back to the way things were after this, she knew they couldn't, but she didn't care. Not one little bit.
The air whooshed out of her body as he pulled away and grabbed her hips, then flipped her over to her stomach. She gasped as his hands closed around her thighs and hoisted her up until her ass was in the air.
"Spread your legs. Let me see every single part of you."
Jessa moaned into the bedspread as she pushed her knees further apart. The cold air tickled her wet, sensitive flesh, sending goosebumps up and down her body.
"Fuck, I've thought of this right here."
She felt his breath on her core as he spoke. Then along her cheeks, and finally, there.
"You can't know, Jessa. Can't really know." He ran his fingers over her smooth backside, then spread them wide.
Jessa let out a raspy scream into the sheets as his tongue ran along her ass. She pushed her hips backward with reckless abandon, and was rewarded by his moans as his tongue circled her sensitive skin.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck. The dirty things I've done to you in my head." He worked his fingers along her wet sex, then slid them inside, curling them so he hit her most sensitive spot. "The places I've tasted. The places I've fucked. And trust me, Jessa, I've fucked you every which way I can think of."



Saturday, 17 February 2018

#LucyFelthouse #LotteryLosers #NSFW #Xcerpt #LoveMeHard Come check out this sexy snippet from award winner author Lucy Felthouse, 1/15 dirty minded authors in the Love Me Hard boxed set.




Lottery Losers 
by Lucy Felthouse
one of the many talented and dirty minded authors in the Love Me Hard Boxed Set



Susie Parmenter and her husband of almost twenty years, Peter, are lottery jackpot winners. They’ve been able to do everything they’ve ever dreamed of—quit their jobs, design and build their perfect home, buy expensive cars, travel the world… So why is Susie bored out of her mind? She thought being a lady of leisure would be amazing, but unfortunately the reality is far from amazing. How can she possibly tell anyone that, though?

Climbing the walls, sinking deeper into irritation and misery, Susie can’t see a way forward. But what she’s not betting on is that Peter has noticed his beloved wife isn’t happy. And he’s taken steps—drastic steps—to turn things around. But will they live to tell the tale?

Dirty Xcerpt for your reading pleasure

Susie Parmenter let out a heavy sigh and closed her book, then put it down on the table beside her. She closed her eyes and let her head loll back on her shoulders, enjoying the warmth of the summer sunshine on her skin, which was pleasant but not too hot. It wasn’t the book that was boring her—under normal circumstances, she’d have been riveted by the crime fiction novel featuring a hunky lead detective—it was life. Just lately, her world had become so dull, so predictable, that she just couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for anything.
The worst of it was, she couldn’t tell anyone. It was a problem so utterly first world it was embarrassing. Humiliating, even. Admitting her permanent state of apathy would be ridiculous, and she doubted anyone would understand where she was coming from, anyway. After all, how could you possibly tell your friends, your family, your husband, that you were bored out of your damn mind when you had, quite literally, everything? Since winning a lottery jackpot twelve months ago, Susie and her husband, Peter, had had their worlds turned completely upside down.
At first, of course, it had been amazing. They had won more than enough money to live incredibly lavish lifestyles for the remainder of their years—even if they lived to be very old indeed. So, once the cash was safely in the bank, they’d quit their jobs. Then they’d taken off on an incredible round-the-world trip, spending much of their travel time plotting and planning what else they were going to spend their winnings on. By the time they arrived home, they were ready to hire an architect to draw up plans for a custom-build home. Another two weeks later, they’d found and purchased the plot of land, and were talking to builders. Things moved fast—but then, Susie had found that was often the case when large sums of money were involved.
Now their dream home was complete. It was, naturally, stunning. The huge house stood high on a hillside in the Derbyshire countryside, with only a handful of other properties in sight. It was situated so that from one side of the house, you could watch the sun rise in the morning, and from the other, you could watch it set in the evening. There was a covered and heated swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, a sauna, a gym, a home cinema… everything a person could possibly need or want, and then some.
They employed a cleaner and a gardener, so aside from cooking meals three times a day—if they didn’t eat out or order takeaway, that was—there was nothing to do around the house. Susie had moved the furniture umpteen times, which was a novelty at first, given their old house had been so small that every single item had a place that it fitted into—barely, in some cases—and that was that. She now found herself swapping pictures around and tweaking the positions of ornaments on a regular basis, often putting them back where they’d been to start with.
She’d gotten into a routine of using the pool, gym, and sauna every morning, but that still left hours and hours of the day just waiting to be filled.
It was all right for Peter—he might have ditched his job, but these days his time was divided between playing golf, and being involved in a bunch of stuffy business boards. She didn’t really understand what he did at the meetings, if she was honest, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was that, only weeks after moving in to their beautiful new home, Susie’s boredom was at fever pitch. She was climbing the walls. Surely even board meetings were more exciting than this?





 Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and Mia’s Men (The Heiress’s Harem Book 1). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter 

Stalk Her Here:

http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk
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And because it's Valentine's week (yes, the holiday gets an entire week) I asked Lucy what her favorite way to spend Valentine's is. 




Her answer: On a nice city break with my other half. This year it’s mid-week so I’ll be at work, but we’ll have our date night at the weekend and go to see Black Panther!




 I think that sounds lovely! I hope you guys get to do just that! 




Thursday, 15 February 2018

It's not just a love story... it's an obsession. Tempting Him by Jeanne St. James, featured in LOVE ME HARD







Tempting Him (An Obsessed Novella)
By Jeanne St. James

Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, BDSM

On Sale for a limited time for 99¢ in the Love Me Hard Boxed Set
A set of 15 hot & spicey romances that will tickle your fancy!

Buy Link: https://books2read.com/lovemehard

Blurb:

It’s not just a love story, it’s an obsession...

Skylar:

Every time my neighbor jogs past my house, I do my best to tempt him. Washing my car, watering my lawn, doing yoga in the grass with my all my assets in the air. I’m not sure if he notices me, but I sure can’t miss him.
Then one day he falls... into my arms and into my bed. Surprisingly, we’re better matched than I would’ve expected. But when he reveals who he is, my world comes crashing down around me because if he finds out my secret we’re finished before we’ve even begun.

Cade:

Three days a week, I put myself through hell by jogging through my neighborhood. I suffer through it simply to catch a glimpse of a woman I don’t know. Every time I pass her house she’s outside tempting me. Until one day I fall... over my feet, over my heart, over this woman and into her arms.
I know nothing about her, but I want to discover everything. Even her deepest, darkest secrets. However, little does she know, I have one, too. One that may sever the tie that binds us.


Excerpt

Chapter One
Skylar

I watch as sweat drips one bead at a time onto my over-priced yoga mat. The sun is so freaking hot and here I am, like an idiot out in my yard, bent over in the downward facing dog pose for the past million years. Okay, not years... maybe more like a million seconds. But my body has decided it hates me (nothing new) and is cramping while my head spins. Even better, my over-priced yoga pants have clawed their way up my crack (as well as one other place). And still...
No neighbor.
What the hell?
Despite my eyeballs’ attempt at bulging out of their sockets, I peek at my sports watch. He should’ve been by here two-point-five minutes ago.
Shit.
The man is usually like clockwork, jogging by my house on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons every week. For the most part, anyway. Though, thunderstorms seem to discourage him from his cardio. (Not sure why.)
On those days, I would be willing to recommend another type of cardio to get his heart pumping. And maybe get his hips pumping, too.
Anyway... look at me! Doing yoga on my front lawn, on the uneven grass, waiting like a desperate woman. (I’m not, really, I promise! It just looks that way.)
But, damn, the man is fine and when he jogs past shirtless, he’s shiny with sweat, which makes me want to drag him inside and give him a sponge bath with my tongue.
My thighs start shaking as I peek between my spread legs, because, of course, my ass has to be facing the street. I want him to get a good look at what I’m offering.
I may even wiggle it a little when he jogs by.
That is if I don’t pass out into a heap first.
I sigh.
Then sigh again a little louder just for good measure.
Maybe it would be easier if I just took up jogging. Wear one of those sexy sports bras, put my hair up in a cute little pony tail, plaster a smile on my face and follow him around the block at a perky pace.
I’ll die first.
****
Cade:

Why I ever started this shit, I’ll never know. No, I lie. I know. I thought, “Cade, dude, wouldn’t it be great to up your cardio game and start running?”
I answered myself with, “Yeah, man, that would be great and fun, too!” And then maybe I won’t get so winded when I play basketball with the guys. I’ll have more endurance, I’ll look and feel younger, and...
Fuck that.
Running sucks. And I don’t even think what I do can be considered as running. No, it’s more of a jog. Or a lope. Or trotting like a donkey with a lame hoof.
Inhell. Exhell.
My chest burns, my leg muscles spasm, my balls feel like they’re floating in a puddle of sweat, and the crack of my ass...
I’m not even going there. (Trust me, you don’t want to, either.)
So, why don’t I just stop the torture? (Good question!)
I’ve asked myself that for the past month.
And the answer has always been...
Her.
I sacrifice three days a week just to see a woman I don’t know. 
Not sure why, but she always seems to be outside at the same time of the day. For that reason, I make sure that’s when I go running (jogging, trotting, limping) by.
Am I crazy to torture myself because I find someone attractive and I’d like to get her attention?
Eh. Maybe.
Why don’t I just knock on her door and ask her out? (Another good question.)
Maybe I want to impress her with my physique and athletic prowess.
But honestly, something has to give and it has to be soon. Because this running shit sucks balls and I’d rather stick razor blades under my fingernails.
At least my slow trot is the right speed to observe her without being creepy. Walking would be too slow and obvious. Driving too quick and useless, not to mention dangerous when she’s clearly a distraction.
And, of course, my pace always allows me enough time to enjoy the show she gives me.
On Wednesday, she was out washing her car, her top soaked, her nipples pushing through the thin fabric of her shirt, and when she bent over to scrub the hood of said car, my boner just about popped out of my shorts. You know, those little nylon running shorts. The ones with the mesh liner, clearly not made for sexual arousal.
But I digress.
The week before, she was out watering her lawn. And, once again, her top was wetter than her grass.
Here’s the thing, the entire neighborhood has built-in sprinklers.
Maybe hers are broken.
It’s possible.
I grunt as I turn the corner and try to push myself a little faster since I’m off my game today. I’m later than normal, and I want my running to look as effortless as possible. It needs to look as though I’ve got my shit together and I’m not secretly suffering.
My eyes swing to the left as I jog. She’s the fourth house up. The brick ranch home with the two-car garage.
Two houses to go yet.
One house.
My eyes widen as I see her ass in tight black yoga pants in the air. My step stutters but I can’t stop my momentum.
My mouth becomes an O, partly because I’m falling over my own two feet, the other because she’s dropped to her knees and is now arching backwards grabbing onto her heels, her generous tits straining against her top.
Last thing I see is her blinking upside down at me as her head hangs down her back.
Suddenly, I’m staring at nothing but pavement (and my loss of manhood). The little bit of oxygen I had sucked into my lungs is now gone.
Then, what seems like seconds later, bare, cute, red painted toes come into view.
I want to just die.






About the Author:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup


Author Links:

Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneStJames
Amazon Author Page: http://tinyurl.com/JeanneStJames
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/JeanneStJames
Newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
Review & Book Crew: https://www.facebook.com/groups/JeannesReviewCrew/







Wednesday, 14 February 2018

I want to worship you, Harper. Make you come harder than you’ve ever come before. #HotDad #LoveMeHard #BDSM #singledad #romcom #firefighetr





ONLY 99cents

15 scintillatingly sexy brand new romances for your reading pleasure.


featuring

HOT DAD

A single dad, firefighter BDSM romcom



Blurb



Sam

Since the moment I laid eyes on her I’ve wanted her.
But I wasn’t ready.
The kids were my world and my wounds were still raw.
For six months, I watched her from afar. Dreamed of her, lusted after her, fantasized…
But all that’s about to change. I’m finally ready to take the plunge and start dating again. And now that I know she’s single, I’m going to do this right and win Harper. I want her mind, I want her body, I want her heart.
And when she gives me all access, no limits, I know she’s the one for me.

Harper

He’s the one we all call Hot Dad at playgroup. The one who makes my knees weak and my panties wet every time he walks through the door. We all eye-fuck the bejesus out of him, and dream of his tongue between our legs.
But my kid is my world, and I’m a frumpy mom with a hole in the bum of her yoga pants. What could he ever see in me? So when Sam calls out of the blue, I’m stunned.
Now if only the kids can stop cock-blocking us, and his psycho ex would go away.


He’s turned out to be a master Dom and I’m willing and eager to be taught how to be the perfect little submissive. 






Excerpt



Holy crap on a cracker. Sam in full-on Dom mode was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Those jeans, those feet, those abs. Oh sweet baby Jesus, those abs. How does someone get their stomach to look like that? A thousand situps a day and a diet of nothing but chicken breasts and iceberg lettuce? That had to be it. They were hypnotic, and I was mesmerized by the way they bunched and contracted as he moved to shut the bedroom door. I heard the lock engage and let out the breath I’d been holding.
The atmosphere inside the house was heavy and electric. The man overwhelmed the space, projecting his dark mood. Yet even then, he was difficult to read. I knew he was angry. Worried. And by the way he’d ordered me over here threatening punishment—turned on, but there was something else there, lurking just beneath the surface.
My gaze left his abs and shifted back over to the top of the dresser. Handcuffs, shackles, nipple clamps, blindfolds, paddles, crops, whips, floggers, and what was that wheelie thing? Was that a strap? Fire ignited deep inside me, and flames danced along my arms and up my neck. I encircled my left wrist with the thumb and index finger of my right hand, making a cuff of sorts. Remembering the cuffs last night. Sam came toward me, bringing his incredible scent, masculine and spicy with the hint of mint and fresh linen. He circled behind me; I stilled, waiting, wondering where he was going to touch me first.
I didn’t have to wait long.
His breath was warm and smelled mildly of liquor as his lips landed on my collarbone. Had he been drinking?
I must have tensed, because his hands fell to my waist, and he whispered, “I had one shot right before you showed up. But I’m not drunk.”
I swallowed. “Okay.”
“I want to worship you, Harper. Make you come harder than you’ve ever come before. Help you find new, never before touched erogenous zones and please you until you’re begging me for sleep.”
“Okay.”
“But I also want to punish you.”
I knew he needed this. I knew he needed an outlet for the nightmare Meegan had put him through, and I was willing to be that outlet. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. I wanted to be everything he needed. And tonight he needed to let go.
“Okay.”
His lips fell back to my collarbone before traveling around the back of my neck and down the other side. He spun me around, smoothly removed my shirt, lifting it up and over my head. My pants were next. I’d been in my hole-in-bum yoga pants when he called but changed into jeans to come over. He unsnapped, unzipped and let the denim fall to the floor.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze slowly raking me from head to toe. Those magnificent eyes of his turned the shade of magical moonlight, deep and blue and fierce.
I was lost in them. Lost in Sam, and he’d hardly even touched me. I would do anything for this man. He had my heart months ago, and now he had my body. I was his.
“Step out.”
 I stepped out of my jeans and stood there for the rest of his inspection. He glanced at the bed.
“Sit.”
I sat.
He knelt down; his big, warm hands encircled my left ankle. He ran them up the length of my calf, massaging out aches and knots I didn’t even know I had. I closed my eyes. A low, pleasured groan slowly rumbled through me from the back of my throat. Methodically, he removed my socks. I thought he’d proceed on to the other leg, but he didn’t. Instead he massaged and caressed, kneaded and prodded my feet. I groaned again, this time louder and longer. He dug his thumbs into the balls and arches of my feet, rubbed the pads of each toe until my whole body relaxed and I slumped back supine on the bed. He moved onto the other ankle, delivering the same glorious treatment to the other calf and foot. I was mush. Complete and total mush.
A gentle nip to the pad of my big toe brought me out of my coma, and I opened my eyes just as his hands came up and drew down my panties. Knuckles grazed the tops of my thighs, and I inhaled from how such a simple touch could make my entire body turn to molten lava and erupt with need.  
He slid them over my ankles. Forgetting gentle, he palmed my thighs and spread me wide. Then his mouth was on me. Decadent warmth and velvety softness swept up through my folds as plump lips enclosed around my clit and fiercely sucked. My hips jerked off the bed, and I pushed into his mouth. That tongue, that diabolical tongue flicked and flicked and flicked until I was a convulsing mess on the bed.
Just a tongue.
Just a flick.
Just my clit.
And I was ready to implode. There were no fingers, no circles, nothing, and the man had me in an absolute frenzy. My head thrashed back and forth on the bed as the orgasm built like the crazy winter storm outside. And Sam just continued to flick. It was the most intense, insane kind of torture. I wanted more, more lips, more tongue, more fingers—anything. But at the same time, I didn’t. That flick was enough. That flick was perfect.
Ecstasy, jagged in its reality, lingered just out of my grasp. I was seconds from letting Sam push me over the cliff when he stopped the flicking, gave one, long, slow lick up between my folds, then stood up.
What the hell?
His grin was salacious and pure Dom.
“Would you like to come?” he asked.
I swallowed from my position on the bed. “Yes.”


“You’ll come when I say you can come. Stand up.”



99cents 



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Website: WhitleyCox.com
Twitter: @WhitleyCoxBooks
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About the Author
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have a spirited toddler and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn't end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it's not quite wine o'clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, these books have everything we need to satisfy the curious kink in all of us.