Craving Erotic Romance...

is a group blog from several sassy erotic romance authors!

Find out about our latest releases, read scintillating interviews on Mondays, beat mid-week blahs with Hump Day Help Wednesdays, and see hot hunks on Fridays. Saturdays are "Open Mike" and full of surprises! And then, there's always our guests...!



Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Hump Wednesday Feature!!


A FLOGGING FANTASY The Spanking Experiments 3 

***Click HERE to purchase directly from Evernight Publishing***

BLURB Despite her strict upbringing and meddling family, Glynis Coleman has entertained fantasies of being flogged all her adult life. But until she decided to answer an ad on a BDSM site, seeking participants for a survey on impact play, she had given up hope of fulfilling those fantasies in real life. And guilt over them led her to teach history in a Catholic high school, thus decreasing her chances of meeting anyone interested in indulging her secret desires. Asa Baker, the Dom at Sensations who introduces her to impact play during one erotic night at the club, is everything she’s ever dreamed of. Handsome, charming, and he loves to use a flogger. Asa has been searching for the woman of his dreams, and it doesn’t take him long to realize he’s found that woman in Glynis. Now all he has to do is convince her of the same thing.

  EXCERPT I’m shivering although the room is not cold, and once again I’m seized with a desperate urge to cover up. His jaw goes slack, and his gaze roams over my naked body. Either he’s a fabulous actor, or that unbridled lust is real. It can’t be, can it? This beautiful man, who would have to do no more than crook his finger at a woman to have her, is gaping at me? “Damn. I had no idea you would be this sexy in person.” He crosses the space between us in two strides. “You agreed to sexual touching if it came to that, correct?” The question is almost desperate, and I have to force back a moan. “Yes.” “I use condoms. And I have no diseases.” “I have none either.” I’ve barely had sex. Should I tell him that? This surreal moment is more than I’m able to handle. My pulse is racing. He’s still staring at me, glancing up and down my body. Now, he walks around me, and this is more than I’m equipped to deal with. My legs are trembling. They won’t stop, no matter how much I will them to. “You are stunning, Glynis. Absolutely beautiful.” I stay silent because the simple truth is that I don’t believe him. But despite that, when he pushes up against my backside and wraps his arms around me, I cry out softly at the intense arousal coursing through me. “I’m going to flog you with each of these floggers you chose. Your lovely, round ass will be pink, then red and puffy. By morning, it will be bruised and purple. You will have trouble walking.” Those words wash over me, sending chills up and down my spine until I’m arching my back so my ass rubs against the bulge in his leather pants. I imagine him holding me down and fucking me senseless, after he flogs me until I can hardly breathe. My pussy contracts in tiny spasms, and my clit throbs. “What do you think about that?” His voice is deep and sultry in my ear, and his breath hot against my skin. “I think it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” “Good girl.” That silky phrase sends more shivers down my spine, as if hearing it confirms everything I’ve ever wanted in life. I want to hear those words again, over and over. “And, if you’re a very good girl…” He cups my breasts, and I moan loudly as fireworks explode inside my head. “I might fuck you, too.” “Please,” I whisper, unable to stop the word before it leaves my mouth. His soft chuckle plays over my senses, rendering me helpless in his arms. This is what I’ve waited for, right here and now. It finally has a name, a tangible image, and a scent. I’ve been searching so long I didn’t believe I’d find it, but I was wrong. It exists. It’s real. He is real. “Let’s see how the flogging goes first.” When he steps away, the sense of loss is overwhelming. The room is suddenly cooler. This time, I do wrap my arms around my body but only because I miss the warmth of his touch. My own arms are a poor substitute.

***Other Buy Links*** AMAZON Smashwords

Friday, July 7, 2017

Hot Hunk Friday and April Zyon!

About Lost Faith: 


Gabriella Moreno was just a job, in and out to gain the objective, the death of her father. She turned out to be far more than that to Tobias Casey, however, from the moment he laid his hands on her too hot for words body.

Gabriella had just come home from a two-year stint abroad. The first night home she snuck out, never dreaming for even a moment anyone would be stupid enough to take her. Boy, was she wrong.

Faced with brutal truths, Gabbie followed her gut, and her heart, which, it seemed, all led to one place, Tobias. The heat of her homeland was nothing compared to the touch of this man. In his arms, she found something she had craved all her life, the other half of her soul.

Yet, how can she ignore the fact that the man who owns her heart is also the man who wants to take the last of her family?

Find it here: 

Kindle Unlimited for FREE! 

Amazon US     |     Amazon CA     |     Amazon UK     |     Amazon AU


Teaser


Another day, another dollar. Only these days, Tobias and his team were getting paid a hell of a lot more than they had been in the military. Now they could set their own fees for doing the jobs that no one else wanted to do, or maybe couldn’t do, since they did on rare occasion work for their government’s shadier sectors. But there was no oversight, no backseat driving, and they paid big to get shit done.
Their current operation was one they’d been working on for nearly three weeks now with no success. The first week had been recon, getting oriented, and making sure they had their exits memorized for when they achieved their strike.
The only thing was, as they’d discovered during week two, the target they were after didn’t ever leave his super secure compound. Not that Tobias could blame the guy. Their target was a dictator, an arms dealer, a drug dealer, and a mass murderer. There were people worldwide hoping that Tobias’ team finally managed to do what no one else had to date.
Now it was week three and they were still watching the compound to figure out their way in. Or as Tobias was beginning to believe would be easier, how to get the asshole to come out. They’d tried forty different ways to infiltrate the compound. None had worked. Which actually made sense, given the target, Juan Moreno, or Senor X as they referred to him over com, had hired himself an ex-Special Forces soldier to be the head of his security. Tran Quan was American born but had ties to the Yakuza. Extra weight to be brought to bear should it be requested.
Taking a small drink from his canteen, Tobias ignored the sweat trickling down his spine. His attention was locked on a small group of vehicles approaching the compound. Binoculars up, he brought the lead car into focus and easily recognized one of Moreno’s drivers.  His attention moving to the second car, he was surprised to see Quan in the front passenger seat. The man was normally glued to Moreno’s side so to see him out without Moreno… this was big.
“Ripper, we have four cars approaching the compound. I need to know who exits the second car once they stop inside. Get pictures.”
“Roger that, Rogue.”
Ripper and Cherry were up on the mountain using some seriously high-powered tools to stare down into the compound. Their position was treacherous since they were, literally, dangling off the face of that mountain. One wrong move and they’d be headed straight down toward death.
“They’re turning toward the gate now. Not stopping either, they’ve been waved right through,” Tobias reported. The gates slid shut but not before he spotted a slender leg wearing a dainty shoe at the end slipping out of the door being opened by a guard. Instantly, he felt his gut clench in need to see the body went with that limb.
A soft whistle came through the com. “Damn, she’s fucking hot. Think she’s banging senor X?” Herc asked.
“Too young for him, you oaf,” Cherry said.
“Like that would stop the old fucker. We all know he doesn’t care about age. One of the reasons why we’re here to see him shot,” Herc told her. “Personally, it’s my only reason to see his head explode under the impact of my bullet.”
“Cut the chatter. Tell me you have photos for everyone that came in those vehicles.”
“Confirmed,” Ripper said.
“Good, get your asses down from there. Scout will be here to relieve me soon, then we need to get back and review everything.” Tobias was hopeful that somewhere in those photos he might find a way to pull Moreno away from his security blanket.

* * * *

“It’s his daughter, Gabriella Moreno.” Rainer said. His words had everyone’s attention. Tobias couldn’t figure out who was more shocked. Turning in his seat Rainer shook his head. “I had to dig, and dig deep. The old man has her buried.”
“Makes sense,” Winston muttered. “She’s his Achilles.”
He was right. “We need to keep eyes on her. If we get the opportunity, she’ll be the one we grab. I have a feeling that even with all his enemies gunning for him, he’ll do anything to protect her.” All they had to do was get their hands on her and use her to bait Senor X.
Picking up the picture Rainer had printed out Tobias stared at it. It wasn’t a shot from the compound but one he’d pulled from social media. Gabriella had her head tipped back, laughing at something or someone. She looked carefree and totally at ease. Young, too.
The young woman was just over five foot three inches but those come fuck me heels made her closer to five feet seven, she was thin but not waiflike like so many of the women today. Her hair however, was a riot of auburn red curls that seemed to have a mind of their own, and she didn’t bother trying to tame them. Which said something about the woman herself. She might not have the largest breasts that he had seen in his life but hers seemed to work her body perfectly, like a perfect handful, that distracted him completely.
“We need everything on her from birth until the moment she went through those gates, Rainer. Leave no stone unturned. I think we’ve just found our hot button for daddy Moreno. We grab her and he’ll deliver himself right to us.”
“You sure you want to do that, boss?” Cherilyn asked. At his sharp look, she held up her hands. “I’m down with it, but even if she does leave the compound, you know she’ll have a taskforce worth of guards with her. No way is Moreno letting her out in this country without protection up the ass.”
“And we’ll be ready for that. Our best shot will be if she goes into the city. It’ll allow us to blend in and when the time’s right, grab her up.” At Cherilyn’s snort, Tobias turned a glare on her. “What?”
“Dude, no offense or nothing, but you do not blend.”
Rainer was shaking his head. “I have to agree with her, boss. You tend to stick out.”
“I can blend just fine, I’ll have you know.”
“You keep thinking that. In the meantime, I think I’ll update the other boys and we can add their hilarity to the vote count against you.” Cherilyn patted his chest, walked past, and promptly burst out in laughter.
“I can and will fire your ass,” Tobias called after her.
“No, you won’t,” she bellowed back.
No, he wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about it, in great detail.



Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Lucy Felthouse for Hump Wednesday!

Blurb:

Politics has never been so sexy!

Cade Avery is running for a position on his local county council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary, eager to improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.

Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working with such a formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident he can help Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look impressive on his CV.

It’s soon clear that the two men are set to be an excellent team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions known—in Quentin, it has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has claimed him. But can Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

Buy links (other retailers coming soon):
Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/WTCM

*****



Excerpt:

“You’ve done what?” Cade Avery yelled, fixing his long-time friend and colleague, Mary Summers, with a glare. He slammed his hands down on his desk, making a bunch of pens jump and rattle, and causing water to splash over the side of his glass. “Why the hell would you do such a thing?”

Mary, by now used to Cade’s temper and frequent outbursts, didn’t flinch. Standing firm on the other side of his desk, she calmly stated, “You heard me, Cade. I’ve appointed you a campaign manager. And as for the why, I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“Not to me,” he grumbled, snatching a handful of tissues from the box in his top drawer and swiping irritably at the liquid he’d spilled. “Seems like an unnecessary expense.”

With a heavy sigh, Mary replied, “Do you want to win this bloody election or not?”

“Yes, of course I do. What sort of a stupid question is that?”

“Well then, you need a campaign manager. The rest of the team and I already have enough on our plates. We can’t handle that side of things, too. Not to mention the fact that you really need someone with … expertise … in that department. Someone who can boost your public image, make you more likeable … you know, so people will actually vote for you.”

Screwing up the wad of soggy tissue and dumping it in the wastebasket beside him, Cade snapped his gaze to Mary. She stood, the ever-present iPad clutched against her chest, looking as determined and immovable as a five-feet-one, slim thirty-five-year-old was ever going to get.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What’s wrong with my public image?”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, her body tensing, Mary’s cool demeanor actually looked on the verge of cracking. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she looked back at him. “Give me strength, Cade. Are you fucking serious?”

She may have used the deep breath and probably a considerable amount of willpower to dampen down her physical reaction to his question, but her actual words gave her true state of mind away. As a rule, the word “bloody” was as bad as it got for Mary. To have enticed a “fucking” out of her, and within the same conversation, no less, meant she was in real danger of losing her temper with him. And despite her diminutive frame and usually chilled-out personality—especially in comparison with his huge frame and fiery personality—when she did lose it, she was utterly terrifying. Possibly the fact that she rarely got angry was what made it so potent when she did. Mary’s ire could turn even the thickest-skinned person into a blubbering wreck.

“Mary,” he cooed, backtracking quickly, “come on, sit down. Why do you always insist on standing up in here?”

“Because, unless we’re having a meeting, I don’t generally need to stay long. I normally impart my information, you give your feedback, and we get on with our day.” She shifted restlessly and narrowed her eyes. “But today, it seems, you’re having a bit of a brain fart. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Raising his eyebrows at her increasing irritation, and wondering if there was something going on in her private life that was making her so touchy, he nodded. “Yes, I really think you do.”

A few seconds of silence passed, in which Mary again seemed to be getting a grip on her irritation. She finally said, “All right. But don’t forget; you asked for it.”



*****

Author Bio:


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 and Hiding in Plain Sight. 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

Monday, July 3, 2017

Ravenna Tate is up on Monday!


SPANKED INTO SUBMISSION 
The Spanking Experiments 2

***Click HERE to purchase directly from Evernight Publishing***

BLURB Macie Brooks has entertained fantasies of being spanked all her adult life. But until she decided to answer an ad on a BDSM site, seeking participants for a survey on impact play, she had given up hope of fulfilling those fantasies in real life. Intimate relationships haven’t worked out for Macie. She’s been told she’s a freak because of her secret needs. And, because of her poor body image, she doesn’t believe herself desirable. Dakar Garcia, the Dom at Sensations who introduces her to impact play during one erotic night at the club, is everything she’s ever dreamed of. Handsome, charming, and in control. Dakar has been searching for the woman of his dreams, but without much luck. Is it possible he’s found the perfect submissive, and the perfect lover, in Macie?

  EXCERPT

 “Do you know what this is?”
 “A spanking glove, Sir?” “Yes. It’ll protect my hand from getting sore, but will still give your luscious round ass a nice burn.”
After he moves the toys on his left to his right, he spreads his legs apart slightly and pats his left thigh. “Drape your lower torso over my thigh, facing me at an angle.”
 I don’t quite picture what he means until I lie over his thigh and he moves me further to the left a bit, so that I’m almost lying next to him. His right leg pins both of mine across the backs, and he drapes his left forearm across my middle back. I’m trapped against his hard, muscled body. My pussy is soaked now, and tiny contractions flutter the walls once again. Underneath my lower abdomen, his muscled thigh presses against me.
 “Are you comfortable?” That voice! It washes over me, deep and sexy, until I would do anything to hear it.
 “Very, Sir.” Speaking is difficult.
 “This will hurt, Macie.”
 The first swats are delivered on one side, then the other, in rapid-fire succession. I yell and try to get away, but he has me held too tightly. Now I understand why he put on the glove. By the third swat on each cheek, tears stream down my face and I expect to smell the smoke from the fire on my ass. At the same time, it’s so damn arousing that I’m having a tiny orgasm. I never would have believed such a thing was possible, except that each swat pushes my clit into his thigh. When he reaches six on each side, my yells have turned to moans, and the contractions inside my pussy are still going. The combination of pain and pleasure is like a drug. I want more.
If this happens from a simple spanking, what will those floggers and paddles do to me? My mind fills with erotic images as he delivers the last three smacks on each side. I picture him fucking me, his cock in every hole, and my ass raw from those toys he chose. When it’s over, I simply lie there, letting my imagination run wild. Maybe if I don’t move, he’ll keep going?
 “What have we here?” His voice breaks through my fog, and I gasp as fingertips brush my labia. “You are soaking wet, Macie.” He says it like he’s surprised. Good lord. Has the man ever looked into a mirror?
 “Yes, Sir, I sure am.” A soft chuckle accompanies him slipping a finger into my wetness. I moan loudly as he massages that perfect spot inside. “Very nice.”
He removes his finger and slides two inside. While he moves them in and out, he rubs my clit with his thumb, and I turn to jelly. Now I’m moaning and writhing against his touch as an intense orgasm begins to build. Not shy any longer about the silly skirt, I’m glad it’s open in the back. If this is the reward for letting him spank me until I cry, bring on that chainmail flogger and leather paddle!

Monday, June 26, 2017

E.D. Parr is back on Monday!



Thank you for inviting me to your blog with new Evernight Publishing M/M erotic romance, Given Time.

I wrote this story intending to dedicate it to someone in the front of the book when the  publisher asked if I had a dedication. In fact, I didn’t when given the chance, because it no longer seemed appropriate.

The inspiration for the story came last Christmas when I went to stay with friends in another county, but one that I know very well and have lived in. Just like Matt in the story I was shocked and deeply saddened when a much-loved celebrity suddenly died on Christmas Day. I’d followed this artist’s work for years and, because he was a musician, the lyrics and his songs had often lifted me from sadness.

Like many others I wandered off to the house the person lived and died in, which was just a couple of miles away in the next village. I sat in my car watching the parade of people placing tributes along the wall of the house.

The core of the inspiration came from seeing a lone man approach as fog descended on the long pathway. He was tall, slender, dressed stylishly from head to foot in black, and he carried a bunch of white lilies that he placed beside other flowers. His melancholy exuded from his elegant movements. The sight struck me and I couldn’t put it out of my mind as the circumstances surrounding the  death of this musician was reported in the news for weeks.

I know a little about the deceased’s life and know sadness surrounding his love-life was often woven into his songs. I wrote the story for him … for him to have a happy ending. If that sounds weird, then that’s okay … he gave me, and still does, such pleasure through his music.

The story isn’t about a musician. It’s about life and love. There are a number of scorching hot love scenes in the story, which I enjoyed writing for the two heroes, Matt and Angel, who after hoping for love, finally find it.
Thank you to the unknown, gorgeous man who laid lilies outside the big old house.

Given Time

Music video maker, Angel Starc is about to board a plane to Paris when he receives some sudden sad news. It takes him hurrying back to his childhood home after two years away, estranged from his older brother, Rory.
Angel is amazed and filled with guilt when that night he meets the only man he’s found romantically attractive in a long time. How can it be right? He should only be filled with sorrow, but gorgeous, caring Matt Loewe wraps him in a blanket of comfort and love that heals Angel’s troubled soul.
Delectable, artist, Matt Loewe, follows his hunches and his heart. He’s been looking for love and Angel ignites an addictive passion in him.
As the two men fall deep in love they provide each other with the care needed to come to terms with their past anxieties.

(Romantic erotica with HEA, warning, contains anal M/M sex, frottage, gay partner oral sex, partner masturbation, and explicit gay male love scenes)

Be teased 18+excerpt

He kissed Matt, gently, soaking up the feel of Matt’s skin against his nose. He thrust his hips so that his lower body crushed on Matt’s and the unmistakable shape of Matt’s cock, hard and bulging in his pants met Angel’s cock. A low groan escaped Angel and he deepened the kiss, clinging to Matt, as his legs weakened and his heart pounded.

Matt pushed his arms around Angel’s neck, and Angel’s hands fell away from the grip on his shoulders. Matt’s murmur penetrated Angel’s haze of pleasure. “I can’t even think straight, but I know I want you naked in my arms.” He rained kisses on Angel’s mouth.

Angel pushed his hands between their bodies. He traced Matt’s erection with his fingertips and then cupped it in his palm, pressing against the fabric of Matt’s pants.

Matt’s groan on Angel’s lips sent a shock of desire through his balls.
Angel opened Matt’s pants in a rapid move and thrust them down his thighs. He dragged Matt’s boxers down and grabbed his cock. The rock-hard column filled his fist and extended inches over it. He sighed out the pleasure the feeling gave him, kissing Matt hungrily. Angel’s cock strained against his pants and his stomach clenched so tight it made him breathless.

“Take off your clothes.” Matt’s urgent whisper teased on Angel’s lips.

Angel hurried to comply. He slid his hand from Matt’s cock taking with it the pulse of pre-cum that leaked from the slit. He licked his finger gazing into Matt’s eyes.

Matt gasped as he watched. He dragged off his jacket and pulled his tie from around the collar of his shirt. Practically wrenching the buttons from his shirt, he yanked it down his arms.

Angel gazed at him, taking off his jacket and shirt as he savored the sight of Matt’s muscled torso, and the way Matt’s perfect cock bounced as he moved. Matt was already naked and Angel went to him. He grabbed his ass and pulled him close. “Fucking hell, you are so hot, and it’s been so long for me I might come just looking at you.” He kissed Matt.

Matt’s response made his cock jerk. The passion in his kiss scorched down Angel’s stomach. He escaped Matt’s lips with a groan and pulled off his pants, levering off his boots as quickly as he could.

Matt ran his hands along Angel’s ass.
Angel jerked upright and spun around.
Matt’s eyes darkened and he held out his arms.

Angel rammed his body on Matt’s and they crashed together, murmuring hoarse sounds. Matt’s cock rubbed on Angel’s and he rocked his hips so that the hard columns slid along each other. His chest felt tight as his lower body clenched with the need to come.
“I might fucking fall down if I don’t come soon.” He whispered…
Copyright E.D.Parr 2017 Evernight Publishing

BUY the book:
On release discount at Evernight Publishing

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Friday, June 23, 2017

Hot Hunk Friday: Viktor

 

Viktor

Happy Evil After: Book One

By Sarah Marsh

Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Cover Art: Jay Aheer

When the heroes have reputations like these, who needs a villain?

Blurb:

Have you ever read a fairy tale and wondered why the goody two-shoe Princes and Princesses were always the ones who got their happy endings? Pandora is a Fairy Godmother who’s never fit in with her own people. Only she has the power…and the attitude, to step in and help those who others have decided aren’t worthy of a happy ending. How hard could it be to manipulate some of the most feared beings in their world? Viktor has spent his entire un-dead life being the bogey man to the paranormal community and that’s the way he wants to keep it....with everyone else far away from him. When the opportunity arises to take his revenge on his nemesis, he can’t resist—even if it means risking his reputation and rescuing the damsel in distress. Halle never expected to find herself in need of a savior, especially one with a reputation like Viktor’s. But she’s used to listening to her instincts and her cat trusts the strange woman who pops up and claims to have some solutions. If a girl can’t trust her own Fairy Godmother, then what is this world coming to?  

Purchase Links:

 
 
Author Bio:
Sarah Marsh was born in British Columbia where she still lives, she has only recently began her writing career finding it the perfect outlet for taking the edge off a nine to five office job. She’s been a science fiction and romance junkie for years and when her imagination started to take the characters she’d read about even further in their adventures she decided to try writing something of her own.
Sarah’s also a former pastry chef and spends a lot of time cooking and baking for friends and family as well as painting and knitting. Her biggest weaknesses are animals of any kind…she even loves the ones that wake you up at four in the morning because they can almost see the bottom of their food dish.
When it comes to life in general she’s a big believer that laughter is the best medicine and that there’s no such thing as too much love, which is why she’s such a sucker for a happy ending.

 
Author page links:
Newsletter sign up: http://eepurl.com/b50yvX
 
 

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Break Me for Hump Wednesday!



Thank you for having me on your blog today with my new release, Break Me.

Break me is a dark, twisted, erotic romance, which was fascinating to write. Among other things, one of the things I enjoyed the most while crafting this story was digging deep and uncovering each of the layers that made up both Grisha and Ayla’s personalities.

And I must tell you, there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to those two. ;-)

I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I did writing it. 




The monster lay dormant, until it saw her...

Every few years, the beast within Grisha Vasiliev rouses, clamoring for blood. When he sees Ayla Clark dancing, her movements exuding grace, passion and joy, he knows he must have her.

Grisha kidnaps Ayla expecting the usual: resistance, tears, pleas for mercy. But when Ayla breaks the mold, his whole world spirals out of control and feelings he thought he could never have again resurface.

He thought she was perfect, but she’s the broken doll on the shelf.

The last thing Ayla Clark remembers is celebrating her performance as Giselle and flirting with the handsome Grisha Vasiliev, the owner of one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the country. Now, she’s tied up and at his mercy, begging for more of his attention, while fighting to keep her own secrets buried in the dark.

Be Warned: BDSM, knife play, whipping

Available at:
And More!



Excerpt:
Ayla turned on her heel and raced out the door. Her bare feet slapped against the cool floor almost painfully. The glass shard cut into her hand but she didn’t dare release it yet. Lights blinked on as she ran down the hall and up a set of stairs. Tripping, she dropped her primitive weapon.
“Fuck.”
She didn’t stop to pick it up but continued until the top. She clutched her stomach. It couldn’t be. A thick metal door loomed before her. She lunged at it, screaming and crying, shouting for help, but it didn’t budge.
“Please,” she whimpered.
 “You’re going to hurt yourself. The door is pure steel, locked with a key and an electronic panel.”
She spun to face Grisha. He stood a few steps behind her, arms crossed over his chest, eyes gleaming with predatory intent. Her shoulders slumped. A lump formed in her throat.
“No. Please, Grisha. Let me go.”
 “I can’t do that.”
“Why? You’re rich, powerful. You can have anything you want. Why?” she insisted. “I swear I won’t say anything. This never happened.”
“That isn’t the way this works, sweetheart.”
“Please, Grisha.”
Her knees gave out and she slid to the floor. Her head spun. None of this made any sense. Grisha towered over her. Tears gathered behind her lids. She inched forward, hugging his left leg.
“I beg you.” 
Grisha lay his hand on her head. She looked up at him. The power of his gaze undid the well of emotions within her. She would never get out of here. Sobs racked her body. She clung to him, beseeching him.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
He settled on the floor next to her and pulled her onto his lap. Ayla’s arms wrapped around his neck naturally. He caressed her back in soothing circles. She burrowed her face into the collar of his shirt, his fresh, woodsy essence entering her system. Familiar. Welcoming. Slowly, her tears ebbed replaced by confusion. Why did he comfort her?
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.
He caught her chin. His gaze danced over her face for an instant. His brow furrowed. The blue in his eyes darkened to midnight depths. Then his lips were on her, pressing, claiming, sparking her body alive. Her brain shut down. His tongue met hers and she opened up, eager to taste more. He demanded and she willingly gave.
Ayla was his to do as he pleased. His hands touched her everywhere, leaving behind a trail of burning need. Liquid gathered at the apex between her thighs. Her clit throbbed.
Grisha cupped her swollen breast, squeezing the turgid nub between his fingers. She moaned. He bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth, hungrily sucking. She arched, whimpering. His heavy hand slid across her thigh to her pussy. Relentless fingers probed her entrance.
“You’re soaked.” He groaned.
She turned her head, embarrassed. Grisha thrust a digit into her. Ayla sucked in air.
“You like this. You want this,” he said, his voice husky and gritty.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You enjoy this,” he whispered, pushing another finger into her, slowly pumping them. She mewled.
“My sweet little dancer wants my cock in her cunt, doesn’t she?”
She shook her head.
“No? That’s not what this tells me.” He curled his finger across her G-spot and began to massage it. She shook from head to toe.
“Please.”
“What is it, sweetheart? Want more?”
Three fingers rubbed her. The pressure increased. Ayla threw back her head. Her hips swayed involuntarily. His strokes turned quick and short. Sweat trickled down her back.
“Grisha,” she panted.
“You’re going to come for me, Ayla, and you’re going to do it now.”




About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters' darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love. 

When she's not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.  

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