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Heat up your winter with this collection of steamy to sexy reads. Whether you’re looking for romance by the warm glow of the fireplace or a scorching romp on a bear skin rug, there is something for all readers, for every taste, desire, and whim. Come and join us, won’t you? This is sure to be a Season… of Seduction.
Sinking back into the bed, she let out a loud sigh as the last remaining bits of the climax disbanded. The man was relentless. He’d actually gone and read the seven best techniques to eat pussy and was determined to dine all seven ways tonight. She hardly recognized him from the man four days ago. Unsure of himself, quiet and reserved. And yet now, here he was being all dominating and assertive. Confident in his prowess and topping her like a badass. Did he know she was a good little bottom who would take any punishment doled out like a dutiful submissive? She’d wear his bonds, bend over and take his lashings if he demanded it. Would he ever demand it? She hoped so.
She popped one eye open and gazed down at him. Those sexy golden-green eyes pierced her soul, ravishing her, cherishing her, owning her.
“You don’t have to make it to seven tonight,” she said, her brain and libido battling it out inside of her. She wanted all the orgasms, wanted everything Austin had promised her and more, and yet she wasn’t sure she had the energy, had the mental capacity to go one more round. She was afraid that one more might make her brain short circuit, everything would suddenly go dark and she would wake up hours later not knowing who she was. Besides, the man looked exhausted. His lips were sexy and puffy, and his chin and freshly shaved cheeks glowed from her releases. Even if she couldn’t get off again, she wanted Austin inside her, wanted to feel him find his release, hear him groan her name as she drained him, made him feel just a fraction of how good he was making her feel.
He paused for a moment, his face expressionless, besides that lone eyebrow that was half an inch higher. Challenging her. Daring her. Scolding her. “I said seven.”
Holy fuck, who was this man?
He put his head back down, spread her wide and blew cool air onto her throbbing clit. Jesus hell, he really was going for seven. Could she? She certainly hoped so. She prepared herself for the long, decadent sweep. The flat of his tongue drifting erotically, slowly up from her perineum to her mound, hitting every square inch of her pussy and making it quiver, before he plunged his fingers inside her and scissored. But there was no sweep. No plunge. No scissoring. Instead, he flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue. Back and forth, back and forth. The move was so small, so minimal, and yet it made her insides quake as another orgasm began its climb.
She bucked into his face and groaned, needing more, wanting more.
Or did she?
Her body was a maelstrom, a cyclone building momentum, gaining force and ground before it burst forth from its confines and ransacked her body to shreds. And all from the delicate flick of his tongue. The rhythm was quick and repetitive. It was all she needed. She was going insane from just a flick. A flick would do it. A flick would pitch her over the edge that one last time.
How did he know?
No one had ever eaten her out this way. No man had ever simply lain there and given her seven orgasms, using a different technique each time. No man had ever used just one move, over and over again. They’d all mix it up, and she would get there eventually, she always did. But this, this was exquisite torture. Diabolically wonderful torture.
She brought her hands to her breasts and cupped them, smashing them together, then letting her thumbs rub the tender pearled nubs. She pinched and pulled, loving how each tug, each bite of pain sent a shard of pleasure careening through her, landing hot and heavy in her clit. She was ready. So ready. So close. One more time. She could do it. She would do it. For Austin.
Pulling on her nipples even harder this time, because Hunter liked a little pain with her pleasure, she thrust her hips up into Austin’s face and let go. Her toes curled as the twister unraveled inside her and the orgasm took hold. She shut her eyes, tilted her head back and cried out his name. Cried out for God, cried out for more.
Seven. Seven. Seven. Seven!
Moments later, Hunter’s head hit her pillow, and she let out an exhausted sigh. Had she really come seven times? Plus, the four in the woodshed. This was a new record. She felt the bed shift, and Austin got up, inching himself forward up the bed until he was next to her. She opened her eyes and turned to face him. The smile on his face, on his wet and hungry lips was enough to stop her heart and make it burst.
“That was . . . ” she trailed off, unable to find the words. So instead, with the last bit of energy she could muster, she sat up, grabbed a condom from the nightstand, unzipped his jeans, slid them down his waist and straddled him. “I can’t guarantee I’ll come an eighth time. But I want you to come. Take as long as you need.”
He took the condom from her, tore the wrapper and rolled it on. The sight of Austin handling himself, taking his thick length in his palm and rolling down the translucent rubber was hypnotic. He made sure it was down to the base before looking up at her, his gaze avid as his Adam’s apple bobbed heavy in his throat. “Not trying to brag or anything here, but I’m about ready to explode.” His lip turned up at the corner into a dashingly bashful smile.
Suddenly all Hunter wanted to do was lick that corner.
“My balls ache.”
She chuckled softly as she lifted up, hovering above him, his crown pressing at her wet and swollen entrance, demanding sanctuary. “Then let’s do something to fix that.” Then she sank down low, squeezing him the whole way.