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Featuring
Whipped
By
Sabrina York
Available
Now!
Dane
Coulter is mourning the loss of his best friend, fellow Special Ops
buddy, Cody. Oh, Cody didn’t die. It’s worse. He’s getting
married.
Cody is, in Dane’s opinion,
whipped.
Dane swears he will never suffer the same fate. But when he meets a
woman who can take all his dominant loving and beg for more, he
realizes he may have met his match. It’s a damn shame she’s the
one woman in the world his man-code
deems untouchable…his best friend’s sister.
Excerpt
She
sashayed over to his side and tugged his tight black tee shirt from
the band of his jeans. She wanted him out of it. She wanted to see
his chest. She wanted him naked.
He
grabbed her wrist in a gentle cuff. “No,” he said.
She
peeped up at him. His chin was firm and bristled with enticing
scruff. A muscle worked in his cheek. “No?” She went for a
playful tone.
He
glared her down. “I don’t think you understand. I direct the
action. Do you understand my meaning?”
Oh
God. Did she.
She’d
played games like this with boys before, but never had she
experienced such dominant energy. She let her hand fall to her side.
Lowered her chin in what she hoped was a submissive mien—she really
didn’t do submissive well, and never had. “Yes.”
“Yes…what?”
“Yes,
I understand.”
He
broke character for a moment, rolling his eyes. “How long have you
been doing this?” he asked, but it was, apparently a rhetorical
question, because he barreled right on. “The correct response is
‘Yes Sir.’”
“Oh.
Right.” She shot him an impish grin. “Yes Sir.”
“And—
What’s your name again?”
“I
didn’t mention it.”
He
frowned. “What should I call you?”
She
studied him for a moment as a litany of stripper names skipped
merrily through her mind. And then a memory, a memory from long ago,
suffused her. Her lips curled. “I’m Bambi.”
“Bambi.”
His snort said it all. Yeah. Right. “And spit out that gum,
Bambi.” The rumble in his voice told her the gum really
annoyed him for some reason. She filed this fact way—for later.
When annoying him might come in handy. But she did as he asked,
spitting the gum into the wastebasket with a “Patooey.”
Then
she linked her hands behind her and wiggled from one side to the
other. She could tell her blasé attitude annoyed him as well. His
fingers curled into fists as though he wanted to spank her now.
“Anything else, Sir?” She invested her tone with a rebellious
thread.
Sure
enough, his nostrils flared. “Are you wearing panties under that
skirt?” God she loved when he barked.
“Yes…Sir.”
His eyes narrowed at her deliberate hesitation.
“Take
them off.”
“Off?”
He
sucked in a breath and, astonishingly, seemed to grow even larger.
“Off. And don’t question me again.” He put his hands on his
hips and stared at her coldly, but heat blazed beneath. “Well?”
Tina
thrust away the sudden flurry of nerves and slid her hands to her
thighs, palms down, then slowly skated them up, under her hem. His
breath snagged when he caught sight of her panties, some lacy
confection shaped like a butterfly from a famous store with seriously
overpriced lacy confections. She let a little moan escape her throat
as she eased them down.
He
appreciated the effort. His gaze was riveted. His body hummed with
tension.
“Like
this?” she asked in a little girl voice, as she pushed her panties
to her ankles. She turned slightly, so her bare ass was within his
line of sight. And she waggled it.
“No
talking,” he snapped, as though he couldn’t take it. Couldn’t
bear to be teased. And wouldn’t allow it.
She
stepped out of her panties, leaving them on the floor. Rather than
feeling exposed, she felt energized. He still stood by the bed,
watching her, staring at her with brooding hunger. The outline of his
cock in his jeans was unmistakable.
Sudden
need swamped her. Well, not too sudden—she’d wanted him forever,
after all—but it was sudden in its intensity, in the brash, bold
realization that he was here, hard for her…
And
she wasn’t wearing any panties.
“Sit
on the couch.”
It
was a leather couch, buttery soft. And cold. She hissed as the slick
material touched her heated flesh. He said nothing more and, setting
the condoms and the leather strap at the foot of the bed, prowled
across the room. He sat opposite her in the straight-backed chair and
studied her in silence for a long while, sipping his drink. So long,
it made Tina a little nervous. She resisted the urge to fidget.
“Spread
your legs,” he said.
She
did, watching him as he watched her.
And
then, again with the silence.
She
nearly jumped when he spoke, his voice, low and silky, filling the
room like a caress. “I like your jacket.”
“Thanks.”
It was a cute leather bolero with metal studs. She’d bought it on
sale at a great little thrift shop on the Eastside. It screamed
Vegas. Perfect for a wild girls-only bachelorette—
“Take
it off.”
She
quickly complied, removing the jacket and revealing the tight black
Lycra shirt beneath. She loved this shirt, the way it hugged her
curves and highlighted the swell of her breasts. He liked it too. His
tongue peeped out as he stared at her. His lashes flickered as she
drew in a deep breath and traced her cleavage—just in case he
hadn’t noticed it.
“Hands
to your sides, please.” His tone was light, but carried scorching
weight. She dropped her arms and waited for his next command.
But
he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Perhaps he wasn’t a boiling
cauldron of lust. She was. She longed to touch him. To drag her palms
over those bulging pecs, to explore the flex of his biceps. To taste
his chin.
He
made her wait. Sitting there, bare-assed, stewing in her juices.
Punishing her, perhaps, for her earlier insouciance. It was a long,
long while before he said, “Now, your shirt. Take it off slowly.”
It was small compensation, that tremor in his voice.
Her
fingers shook as she took hold of the hem and eased the material up,
pausing, now and again, to assess his attention. Oh, it was fixed. On
her. His eyes burned as she revealed her breasts, cupped as they were
in black lace. She couldn’t resist thrusting them forward as she
draped the shirt on the sofa back behind her.
She
licked her lips and folded her hands in her lap. And waited.
It
was nerve wracking, being bare before him but for a flimsy bra and a
skimpy skirt, having him sit there and stare at her. As though he
knew the effect he was having on her, his lips, those luscious lips,
kicked up into a smile. He took another sip of his drink.
“Pull
up your skirt.”
“What?”
He
frowned at her question. “Pull up your skirt. Bunch it up around
your waist. I want to see all of you.”
She
swallowed an eep and did as he asked.
“Legs
farther apart. I want you exposed.”
Holy
God. Her body, of its own accord, clenched, but she complied. She
couldn’t not.
“Now,
sit still.” He stood and ambled toward her, his drink in one hand.
Like a lion approaching an antelope. Tina had the sense he wanted to
pounce, wanted to gobble her up, but was keeping himself tightly
reined.
She
ached. Ached for his touch.
He
stepped behind her and stroked her hair, just a skim. Then his
fingers danced over her bare shoulders, leaving a burning tingle in
their wake. His heat, his scent surrounded her as he bent. His mouth
scraped her earlobe. The hiss of a hot breath. A nibble.
Sensation
rained through her. Her nipples pebbled. Her clit thrummed. Her body
was on fire. She gasped when he cupped her breasts, nearly arched
into it, but remembered his command, and didn’t.
But
when he thumbed a nipple, she could no longer hold still. Her whole
body went on alert as exquisite pleasure shot through her, and she
edged into his caress.
“Mmm,”
he murmured. “Your nipple is hard.”
It
was. Hard and swollen and sensitive.
He
brought his fingers together in a gentle pinch. She winced.
“Ah.
Yes.” With a hand to her forehead, he tipped her head back against
the sofa, until she was splayed out before him. He meticulously
arranged her hair in a fall over the back, running his fingers
through it as though he was making love to her curls. Then he set his
palm on her chest and stroked her slowly, teasingly gliding over her
skin, leaving prickles of awareness around her breasts—but avoiding
them—over her arms, her neck, her cheek.
He
was teasing her, she knew it.
But
it cost him.
Her
gaze flicked to his face. His muscles were tight, his nostrils
flared, his features stark as he focused on his work.
It
seemed as though he explored her for hours, forever, just stroking
her skin, awakening her, arousing her passion. She wanted to scream.
She wanted to beg. She wanted to arch and undulate and demand more.
But she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t be the one to break.
Finally—finally—as
though he couldn’t resist, he cupped her breasts again and
squeezed.
“God,”
he mumbled under his breath and then, as though he’d caught himself
giving in, he added, in a much more commanding tone, “Over to the
bed.”
What
people are saying about WHIPPED:
"5
Stars—Whipped by Sabrina York was so good, LOVED all the sexy
scenes and then how she mixed in some humor parts. I know she's super
busy but I'm really hoping she makes this one into a series because
its that good :)"—Read More Romance
"5
Stars—Oh my goodness! I loved, loved, loved this story! The sex was
off-the-charts hot! And I mean HOT! The characters were witty and so
entertaining. As always, Ms. York's humor and witty writing is
on full display. I honestly don't think she could not write a story
that doesn't leave me in awe of her slightly sarcastic, yet always
smartly written style. I bow to the
master."—
Coffee and Books
"5
Stars—This was a great read that kept me glued to the events. Loved
the epilogue!"—Ms Romantic Reads
Oh
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Kindle UK - http://amzn.to/1zHXlM5
iTunes - http://bit.ly/1zHXjnr
Nook - http://bit.ly/1BS3Q3N
Kobo
- http://bit.ly/1yvWnBC
About
Sabrina York
Her
Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today
Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy
readers. Her titles range
from sweet & sexy to scorching erotic romance. Connect with her
on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook
or on Pintrest.
Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon
or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at
www.sabrinayork.com to check
out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book:
http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/
And don’t forget to enter to win
the royal tiara!
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COMING
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