Showing posts with label menage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label menage. Show all posts

Friday, July 24, 2020

Out today! A delicious #naughtyfairytale from @PebblesLaCasse #polyamory #bdsm #eroticromance


Blurb

Goldilocks is moving into the Bear house. While Bash is away at school, he’s entrusting his brothers to satisfy all her needs.

The townsfolk have labeled her a whore for associating with the bad boy Bear brothers. She fears her father’s disappointment most. Her immoral behaviour may prove too much for the man’s failing health.

Mack’s new girlfriend has Goldilocks questioning why Bash hasn’t mentioned her. She wonders what other secrets the brothers are keeping.

A dominant Patch and gentle Mack ravish her body with their wild sexuality, but what happens when the night stills and romance blooms?

Will Bash return home to discover Goldie’s heart belongs to another?

Note: Book 1 is part of the Torrid Tales Anthology. Book 2 follows as a standalone title.

Universal Buy Link

Amazon.com




Excerpt

Patch groans as I turn to walk past Mack and into the kitchen to put the bowls away. For such a big man, Patch moves stealthily. I see him coming in my peripheral and spin, putting my hands up to stop him. I try to back away, but my high-pitched laughter has me moving too slowly. He bends forward and scoops me over his shoulder. He hangs onto the back of my knees while he turns one way, then the other as he dumps the bowl’s contents into the trash and sets them in the sink.

I’m laughing harder now. He cracks my ass with his lumberjack-sized hand. Both ass cheeks heat instantly and my pussy twitches. I grab onto the waistband of his denim pants and try to lift my face off his back, but I’m laughing too hard to hold the position for more than a few seconds. He cracks me again. I try to cover my ass with my right hand, but somehow, he grasps my wrist and gives me two more. My ass is on fire!

I fucking love this!

Patch carries me into his bedroom and kicks the door shut with his foot. Before putting me down, he steps out of his slippers, undoes his pants and lets them fall to the floor, kicking them to the side. He tosses me onto my back on the bed. He’s on me, between my legs before the second bounce.

His mouth presses to mine with passion behind it. I could disappear into this man if I let myself. It would be as simple as closing my eyes and pretending he’s Bash. I miss him so much.

I whisper, “Tonight, you can pretend I am her.”

His expression softens. It’s as if he’s suddenly lost ten years of stress off his face. He nods slowly, brushing his thumb along my lips. The dominant man inside him is shadowed by his kinder side.

His voice flows with a deep whisper. “If we keep our eyes closed, we can pretend. This isn’t wrong, is it?”

My fingertips trail down his forehead and cheek. “We’ll keep our eyes closed. It won’t mean anything between you and me, other than two bodies pleasing each other while holding the image of someone else.”

“Agreed. Thank you,” he whispers before his lips press tenderly to mine.

He’s passionate and romancing her with his kisses. The otherwise rough, workingman’s hands seem softer than silk as they brush along my skin. He cups my breast, kissing down my neck with slow, deliberate pecks. My fingers weave into his short, dark hair as his lips surround my areola. As his tongue warms and teases my nipple, the full weight of his chest presses onto my pelvis, pinning me to the bed.

He rocks his body. Between the nipple play and the pressure on my clitoris, I’m moaning between deep breaths. His gentle hands wrap around both breasts, pushing them closer together so he can alternate between them quickly, nipping and flicking until my womanhood drips with need.

I’m lost in his tenderness. His sensual movements are as smooth as a ballet dancer. My hands slide along the bed, down beside my butt until our fingers weave together. An easy moan slips from his throat.

His tongue laps at my folds, sucking and flicking at my clitoris until I’m on the edge of letting myself fall into the abyss of glory when he suddenly stops. I groan my disappointment, but his mouth is on mine quickly, suffocating my protest. His left elbow rests beside my head while his right hand caresses my thigh.

With one quick movement, he’s deep inside me. Both of us gasp into each other’s mouths. His halted breath proves his pleasure. When my hips lift to meet his slow, deliberate thrusts, he pushes against my cervix, causing shock waves to ripple through me. The way our bodies mesh so perfectly, anyone watching would believe us to be deeply in love with each other.

He’s building me slowly toward orgasm. Nobody has ever moved this expertly with me, including him. I’m slipping away, becoming light and yet so heavy. I’m warm, cradled, and desired. I know it’s not me he’s dreaming of, but how lucky I would be if I were. She is a fool to have left a man who loves her this much. I can feel his heart breaking for her. He does not aim his compassion at me. I’ll be wise to keep that in mind.

In a flash, he rolls us both, our mouths never separating. I’m above him, straddling his pelvis, his rock-hard cock buried deep into me. His massive hands grip firmly on either side of my waist. I sit up and try to buck but he won’t allow me to move. His eyelids are closed, mouth open, chest heaving.

The weather outside pelts against the window creating a song that mirrors the moment between us; deafeningly peaceful, serene but treacherous, absolutely flawless with the possibility of disaster. At any moment, either of us could forget who we’re connected to and let our hearts break wide open.

I glance at him but only for a second. I cannot allow myself the pleasure of falling deeper under his spell. He watches me. His teeth are clenched, eyes seem darker, and his face has taken back those years he had lost earlier.

His Adam’s Apple bobs. “I’m going to fuck you hard now because I can’t do this with you.” I nod, knowing how close we came to bonding with more than just our bodies.

“Should I make you work for it?” I reply with a sassy tone.

His nostrils flare. “If you’re up for it.”

Before he can react, I slap his face and then fling my leg over him, attempting to escape his wrath. He growls like a madman, grasping my ankle just as I’m about to hop off the bed. I topple forward, catching myself before I hit the floor. I pull at the rug and kick, trying to yank my ankle out of his hand, but his mighty grip is inescapable. I kick with my other leg, hitting him in the chest, forcing him to let go. We both laugh; mine brought on with a hint of fear while the battle enthralls him.

I run to the door while he leaps off the bed and strides toward me. Quickly, I whip open the door and run through, slamming it behind me. He thuds against the wood and growls like a wild beast. He gives me time to hide while calling out to me from behind the closed door. “Goldilocks… I’m coming to get you!”

Which way do I go? Shit! Shit! Shit!

I run out the front door, closing it quietly behind me. It’s damn cold out here and dark as hell. I can’t see my hand in front of my face unless the lightning sparks, momentarily blinding me with the darkened shapes of the surrounding objects. I feel like someone is taking pictures of me and I keep looking at the flash.

I’m careful not to make any noise, but I’m unsuccessful when I bump into the table, knocking an empty beer can onto the wooden porch. I shuffle my feet, waiting for the lightning to light a path to the other side of the porch. It’s too dangerous to slip into the thick of the forest. If a tree falls, it could kill me.

I hear a sound behind me and spin to look just as a bolt of lightning lights up the entire porch. Patch is standing a foot away from me. My giddy yet terrified shriek seems to fizzle out between the fat raindrops as if it didn’t exist. I spin to run but he has my hair in his fist.

His voice sounds distant, drowned by the sheets of rain. “I found you, bitch! You’re in trouble now, whore!” He’s naked, his cock harder and thicker than I’ve ever seen it. His huge hand grabs my throat, pulling me toward his face. “Slap me, will you? You won’t do that again.”

A tinge of fear trickles into my laughter when his hand tightens. Blood rushes to my face and it’s harder to breathe. He glares fiercer with each bolt of lightning. It’s terrifying, sexy, and holy fuck, I want him!



Where to find me:








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Saturday, May 30, 2020

A femdom snippet from The Ingredients of Bliss - #SaturdaySpanks #FemDom #BDSMRomance


Saturday Spanks banner

LastWednesday, for the Book Hooks blog hop, I featured a fairly tame excerpt from my BDSM ménage erotic romance, The Ingredients of Bliss. For today’s Saturday Spanks post, I thought I should give you something spicier.

Here’s part of a hot femdom scene, set in a Paris hotel. Emily has been ordered by her master Harry to dominate her boss, impeccable French chef Etienne.

It’s complicated...

Enjoy!



Kicking off my shoes, I sat cross-legged on the bed across from the chair, examining its bound occupant. Less than a meter separated us. I could see the sheen of sweat on my captive’s forehead, the clear droplets gathering at his slit then dribbling down his shaft. My position exposed the thoroughly soaked crotch of my silk thong. Etienne licked his lips. His cock twitched as though he’d been hit by an electric shock.

“Now that you’re tied up nice and tight, I think I’m going to punish you. You deserve it—begging me to invite you to my room then showing up dressed like the slut that you are…”

I crawled up toward the head of the bed, giving him a good view of my bum and opened the drawer of the table next to the bed. I’d been too afraid of customs inspections to bring much in the way of sex toys, but I figured I could improvise.

Pulling out a pair of lacquered wood chopsticks, I held them up for Etienne to see. His perplexed expression made me chuckle.

“Were you hoping for a flogger, maybe? Or some clamps? You’d be surprised how versatile these can be…”

Perched on the edge of the bed once more, I leaned forward and caught one of his pink little nipples between the tips.

“Oh…”

Maintaining an iron grip, I pulled. I’ve been using kuàizi since I was three. I know how to hold on to a grain of rice or a morsel of meat and not let go.

“Ow! Oh, mon Dieu!”

“Don’t complain now, Etienne, or I’ll have to gag you.”

I moved to the other nipple, grabbing and twisting. Ever obedient, Etienne swallowed his cry of pain. The first nipple stood up smartly, fatter and redder than before.

“I’ve read that chopsticks can be used as nipple clamps.” I snapped the wood against the nub I’d assaulted first. He flinched, but his cock was harder than ever. “You capture the nipple between the two sticks then loop rubber bands around the two ends to force them together.” Actually, Harry had told me this, one night when he had me spread on his kitchen counter with clothespins biting into my labia. The thrill had pretty much neutralized the pain. He hadn’t yet tried the chopstick maneuver on me. I suspected he’d get around to that at some point.

“By moving the rubber bands closer to the center of the parallel sticks, you can increase the pressure.”

“Ah—ar—ah…”

“But I find chopsticks also work well when you don’t happen to have a cane or a crop.” Using the two chopsticks like miniature switches, I struck both nipples at once. Then I snapped at his thighs with the sticks, first on one side, then the other, moving closer to his erection with each stroke. “And they’re very portable.” Red streaks appeared in the wake of my blows, nicely parallel lines decorating his tanned skin.

How could I be doing this? And enjoying it? Because I was enjoying myself, I had to admit. I loved marking him, the sense of power and ownership it conveyed. I loved the notion that he’d endure this kind of pain, just to please me. If I were honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I loved seeing the proud and domineering master chef humbled. I recalled those first few days on the set, when he’d dismissed my culinary creations as faddish and unauthentic. Now I had him eating out of my hand, figuratively and literally too, if that was what I wanted.

Etienne was whimpering now, squirming against his bonds each time the lacquered wood made contact with his flesh. I paused, mere centimeters from his cock, and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Should I stop? Is it too much?” I knew that if I lashed his swollen penis, the sting would be far more intense than from my blows to his thighs. I peered into his face, reading both terror and desire.

“Uh—it’s up to you, Mistress.” He wanted to know what it would feel like, I could tell, but he couldn’t admit it. This time, I wouldn’t force him to confess.

“Hmm. Well—how about one stroke on each side then. You mustn’t come, though. If you do, I’ll make you very, very sorry. Understand?”

He nodded. I planted a brief kiss on his ripe lips as a reward. He was really so sweet, so vulnerable, so giving. He opened and thrust out his tongue, rude and forward. I just laughed and pulled away.

“You know you’ll pay for that, Etienne.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The sparkle in his eyes belied his deferent tone of voice. Some slave! But how could I complain?

“Are you ready? Take a deep breath…”

I flicked my wrist and snapped the chopstick against his quivering cock. His breath hitched, but his eyes stayed locked to mine.

“Good boy,” I murmured. “One more.” I was tempted to hold back with this last blow. His expression changed my mind.

“Sacre bleu…” he hissed. He jerked in his bonds. His cock surged like a rocket and for a moment, I was certain he’d lose control.

I pictured my lovely red corset, splattered with his cum. The image was so erotic I almost hoped he’d fail. By some miracle of will, though, he managed to hold on.

****


The Ingredients of Bliss is available in ebook and print at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Totally Bound, and other fine bookstores.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

The Ingredients of Bliss - #MFRWHooks #BDSMRomance #Menage


Ingredients of Bliss cover

For today’s Book Hooks hop, I’ve picked out a never-before-shared excerpt from my BDSM ménage romance novel, The Ingredients of Bliss. I had a lot of fun writing this, at least partially because I could work in a lot of memories from a trip to France I’d taken the year before I wrote it – including lots of food!

Enjoy!

One sexy French chef. One kinky American TV producer. One ambitious Chinese gal who thinks she wants them both. The ingredients of bliss? Or a recipe for disaster?

Accomplished cook Mei Lee ‘Emily’ Wong knows exactly what she wants—her own show on the Tastes of France food channel. But life is full of complications. First, her deceptively nerdy producer, Harry Sanborne, initiates Emily into the delights of submission. Then her boss, legendary chef Etienne Duvalier, begs her to dominate him. Emily just can’t resist—especially when Harry orders her to explore her inner mistress. Suave and sexy Etienne will do whatever she asks—in the bedroom if not in the kitchen. And Harry, her lovingly diabolical Dom, adores pushing Emily’s limits.

When the network sends the trio to France to shoot a series of cooking shows on location, Emily knows her career is on the upswing. Her plans fall apart in Marseille as a Hong Kong drug syndicate kidnaps both Etienne and Harry. The Iron Hammer Triad mistakes Etienne for notorious gangster Jean Le Requin, who has stolen their drug shipment, worth millions. Emily realizes she must find the real Le Requin, retrieve the purloined dope, and bargain it for Harry’s and Etienne’s lives. The secret she’s been keeping from Harry might prove useful. Still, what chance does one woman whose knife skills are limited to chopping vegetables, have against the ruthless cruelty of two criminal organizations?




“‘Silk worker’s brains’? Are you joking, Etienne?”

“Not at all. You’ve never encountered cervelle de canut? A Lyonnais specialty, and quite delicious, I might add.”

Morning sunlight poured through tall windows into the demonstration kitchen of the École Supériore de Cuisine Lyonnais, the site for our show that afternoon. Seated side by side at a butcher block table, Etienne and I pored over drafts of menus and recipes. I was trying to ignore the effects his closeness had on the speed of my pulse and the humidity of my pussy.

“Er—do you really think our American audience will be interested in brains?” We Chinese have a reputation for eating almost anything—I have a particular fondness for zhafeichang, deep fried pork intestines with sweet bean sauce—but I knew that Westerners tended to be more squeamish.

“No brains are actually involved, Mei Lee. The dish is based on fromage blanc, seasoned with fresh herbs, shallots, olive oil and vinegar. Very savory, I assure you, and unique to the Lyon region.”

“All right—whatever you recommend.”

Etienne shot me a sharp look, as though he found my acquiescence surprising. Today he looked devastating, as usual, in a blindingly white dress shirt tucked into narrow black jeans. He had rolled up his sleeves. The red-gold hair dusting his forearms was very distracting. I knew how soft it was.

“We’ll do quenelles de brochet, Lyonnais potatoes of course, salade Lyonnais with bacon and poached egg, and marrons glacés for dessert. Do you think that’s enough?”

“For an hour-long show? Plenty. I’ve never made the quenelles, though.”

“You’ll find them straightforward. Baked fish, bread crumbs, egg yolk, a standard cream sauce—quite simple.”

I’d sampled quenelles the previous evening, while dining at a classic bouchon with Harry and Etienne and thought them a bit bland. To be honest, though, I hadn’t really paid much attention to the food for which Lyon was renowned. My senses were too dazzled by the proximity of my two lovers. Although I’d consumed only one glass of the robust Beaujolais presented by the rotund proprietor, I’d felt totally intoxicated, joy bubbling through my veins like champagne.

My mind wandered, reviewing the marvels of the last twenty-four hours.

After the astonishing night with Harry and Etienne in Paris, the routine details of traveling felt completely unreal. Along with the rest of the crew, we’d piled onto the bus for the four hour drive to Lyon. I’d shared my seat with Lisa, not wanting to encourage any gossip. I’m afraid I hadn’t been very sociable. I’d been preoccupied with recollections of the night’s pleasures. Whenever we’d stopped for a bathroom break, I’d felt the eyes of both men following me. I’d spent the entire trip in a fever of anticipation.

Once we’d arrived and settled into the hotel, they’d whisked me away to the narrow, cobbled lanes of the medieval Old Town. We’d roamed the streets together, poking our heads into cramped souvenir shops, sampling bits of sausage and cheese, pausing in a café facing the majestic Cathédrale St-Jean to admire the sunset behind the hills of Fourvière.

The golden summer dusk had slipped gradually into a violet evening. Every sensory impression had possessed a sort of magical clarity—the lilt of children’s voices as they’d kicked a ball around the cathedral square, the twittering of starlings wheeling above the tiled roofs, the saliva-inducing smell of grilling pork emanating from the open doors of traditional bistros, the anise flavor of the Ricard that Etienne had ordered for Harry and me. The warmth of the balmy night and the heat coming from my lover’s bodies. I’ll remember this all my life, I’d thought, gazing at them in the deepening gloom.

They’d kept touching me. A brush of casual fingers against my thigh. An arm encircling my waist. A powerful hand, clasping and squeezing mine. We’d spoken of superficialities, the history of the city, the show the next day, which restaurant we should choose for dinner. The silent messages we’d exchanged had dealt with different topics all together.

Old Town quarter of Lyon

The Ingredients of Bliss is available in ebook and print at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Totally Bound, and other fine bookstores.

Be sure to visit all the other great authors joining today’s hop, for lots more romance!

Monday, May 4, 2020

The Random Series by Julia Kent – Now Available in Kindle Unlimited! @JKentAuthor #RockBand #Menage #KU #Series


Random series banner

Description

It all started with a naked hitchhiker wearing a guitar – and only a guitar.

And turned into a New York Times bestseller.

A random meeting between a rural Ohio chick and a rich Boston musician kickstarted all sorts of random acts of love and lust – and got even more complicated when his bandmate entered the picture.

And never left.

From unconventional love to second-chance romance to your wildest desires, The Random Series will have you giggling, swooning, and fanning yourself to the heart-pounding beat of the sexiest, most daring and irresistible musicians to come out of Boston.

Five band members form the up-and-coming group Random Acts of Crazy – each with a story of his own in this long-running series.

Let these rock stars take you on a CRAZY wild ride, and with a little TRUST, they can fulfill your every FANTASY.

The Random Series includes:

Random Acts of Crazy (Book 1)
Random Acts of Trust (Book 2)
Random Acts of Fantasy (Book 3)
Random Acts of Hope (Book 4)
Random Acts of Yes (Book 5)
Random Acts of Love (Book 6)
Random Acts of L.A. (Book 7)
Random Acts of Christmas (Book 8)
Random Acts of Vegas (Book 9)
Random Acts of New Year (Book 10)

Amazon/Kindle Unlimited Universal Buy Links:


Random Acts of Crazy (Book 1): https://geni.us/RAOCinKU

Random Acts of Trust (Book 2): https://geni.us/RAOTinKU

Random Acts of Fantasy (Book 3): https://geni.us/RAOFinKU

Random Acts of Hope (Book 4): https://geni.us/RAOHinKU

Random Acts of Yes (Book 5): https://geni.us/RAOYinKU

Random Acts of Love (Book 6): https://geni.us/RAOLinKU

Random Acts of LA (Book 7): https://geni.us/RAOLAinKU

Random Acts of Christmas (Book 8): https://geni.us/RAOXMASinKU

Random Acts of Vegas (Book 9): https://geni.us/RAOVEGASinKU

Random Acts of New Year (Book 10): https://geni.us/RAONYinKU
 


Excerpt

DARLA

The last everloving fucking thing I expected to see as I drove down I-76 toward my little hometown of Peters, Ohio was a buck-naked man wearing a spiked collar and a guitar.

I mean, only wearing a collar and a guitar. The man was barefoot, for goodness sake. On the highway. In May, in Oh-fucking-hi-o, where winter isn’t a season but a state of mind.

How could I not stop and offer him a ride? Seriously? Where was he hiding a weapon? Okay, Okay, maybe up there, but think about it for a minute. He’d have to twist quite a bit to access anything he hid up his puckered—well, there!

And he wasn’t a bit hard on the eyes, either. Kind of a Brad Pitt circa 1991 look, before he married Miss Toothpick and then left her for that wan Elvira and her weak Michelle Duggar imitation.

Anyhow...back to the naked hitchhiker. My 1986 Toyota Tercel wasn’t anything special but it, um, had a floor. And a windshield. And a place for Mr. Naked to rest his weary nuts. The vinyl might be cracked and faded and it wasn’t no Giving Tree from that Shel Silverstein book, but at least the man could give his balls a rest. Those muscles looked like they could sure use some eyes hungrily ogling them, too, for they screamed for loving attention. If I couldn’t touch, I could at least be the one to stare, right? I’m a giver like that.

Always thinking about others.


About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three children in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down

Blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.



Saturday, April 25, 2020

Coming next week! More delicious BDSM! #Dominance #PreOrder #NewRelease


D&S Duos Book 6 cover

The next volume of my D&S Duos series will be released next Thursday, April 30th. But you can pre-order it now, if you want...


It should be available on Barnes and Noble, Kobo and other fine booksellers by the time the 30th rolls around.

Meanwhile, here’s an exclusive excerpt from one of the two stories, “Detente”, a MMF polyamory tale.

* * * 

I look around, locate a stool, and seat myself on it with my legs spread rudely. I smooth my hands down over my thighs, then up along the inner surfaces, until my thumbs rest near my pubis. David’s swollen cock throbs and twitches as he follows my every move. Slowly, I burrow into my thatch and open my cunt lips to their gaze. A drop of liquid flows from the splayed folds and traces a lazy path down my thigh. The air fills with my funky perfume.

Eric squirms a bit on the table. David releases a shaky sigh.

“So, did you miss me?” They both nod, apparently speechless. “It does seem that you’ve been keeping yourself busy.”

Casually, I slip the two fingers of my right hand into my cunt. My juices overflow onto the wooden seat. I slip a third finger into my cleft. Blood surges in my clit. With the forefinger of my other hand, I begin to draw little circles on the head of that aching button of flesh. Each touch makes me shiver with pleasure.

The uncertainty is gone from my lovers’ faces. All that remains is lust. I beckon to David. “Come over here and eat me,” I command. He doesn’t need a second invitation.

He kneels between my legs and buries his face in my bush. I nearly come the first time he plunges his tongue into me, but I hold myself back. I want to make him work for a while.

David licks and sucks energetically at my flesh, making obscene slurping noises that arouse me even more. I stroke the dark tangle of his hair, murmuring encouragement. Over his head, I catch Eric’s eye. I don’t see any bitterness or jealousy there. His mouth is half open, as if he’s panting.

It’s too delicious to resist for long. I close my eyes and surrender to sensation. David tickles, gnaws, probes, swallows me whole. When he takes my clit between his teeth, my whole body begins to shudder. After four days without sex, I come in a thundering flood. The world crumbles around me and is swept away.

The aftershocks gradually subside. I open my eyes. David’s still between my thighs, his mustache limp and dripping, his cheeks smeared. He looks awfully pleased with himself.

“Was that good, Margot?” he asks.

“What do you think?” I reach down and pinch the taut flesh of his cockhead. He winces in response. “But you’re not done yet.”

“What is your pleasure, Mistress?” He’s jesting, but in fact I know that he’ll do as I say. 

 

Thursday, February 6, 2020

Shelby's longing to be bad... #Giveaway #Menage #MFM @TinaDonahue

Thrill Me cover


Check out this sizzling new menage romance from the fabulous Tina Donahue! And don't forget to enter her drawing for fabulous prizes!

  
Blurb


Longing to be bad…

For too many months, Shelby’s craved bad boys Ben and Dominic, cousins and celebrated chefs at the opulent Caribbean resort where she works. Their heated gazes prove they hunger for her as much as she does for them, but they’ve yet to make a move on her.

That won’t do. Yearning for their potent masculinity, killer smiles, and effortless charm, she sets into motion a decadent plan to be with them … at least for a little while. Her ideas include nude photos, a locale where anything goes 24/7, plus BDSM and other kink.

Fun-loving Dominic’s fully onboard. He’s had his eye on Shelby from the start. Ben has too, but he’s reluctant to mix business with pleasure. Since a previous work relationship screwed him big time, he doesn’t want to repeat the experience and won’t … as long as he keeps this strictly about sex, no strings or expectations.

Yeah, right. In an erotic journey that will surprise this threesome, all bets are off, resistance impossible, surrender assured.

Buy Links









Excerpt (Rated X)

Her heart turned over, her legs giving out. She collapsed against him.

His solid bulk took the hit without a hitch. He tightened his grip and rubbed his cock against her hands.

She reeled.

“Hold me.” He thrust his hips into her. “Work my dick.”

His erect column was hot and hard against her palms but silken too, its softness stealing her breath. Her head drooped to the side.

He kissed her neck, then sucked it.

Liquid heat cascaded down her torso and settled in her pussy where it multiplied, making her unsteady, her cunt longing for their dicks, her skin ultra-perceptive to each touch.

Ben worked three fingers into her sheath, burying them fully.

She gasped.

His rapid breaths skimmed and heated her naked flesh. He tongued her folds and licked her nub. Delight shot through her then rippled down her spine to join those feelings already within her pussy, tightening the snug channel around his fingers.

He spread them, preparing her for his and Dominic’s rods, then latched onto her clit and sucked it.

Her breath spilled out. She shuddered, tensed, and pushed to her toes.

He matched her every move, not missing a beat. Holding her nub carefully between his teeth, he sucked and lapped the hard kernel, tonguing it fast, slow, and whatever lay in between.

Gah. It was too much. Her ears buzzed, and her cunt was about to go nuts. If it didn’t, she would.

Unfazed, he slid his fingers in and out of her pussy, mimicking a hard fuck. Dominic held her wrists in one hand and eased his pinkie into her anus. Quivers careened from there to her cunt then back, her poor body not knowing which pleasure to concentrate on. There was too fucking much.

He bumped his knees against her. “You’re forgetting my dick.”

He had to be kidding. She could scarcely withstand his and Ben’s carnal assault. However, she couldn’t short them in this. Forcing herself to focus, she stroked his length and the bumpy skin at his crown’s base.

He grunted crudely. “More.”

She obeyed.

His panting said he liked what she did. He captured her mouth and pushed his tongue inside. Muzzled, she couldn’t release an adequate sound or take in a decent breath. Starved for air and release, she floated, encouraging them to take the lead.

Ben toyed with her clit and sheath, Dominic her mouth and tightest opening, coordinating their foreplay like the friends and cousins they were.

Each lick and suckle stoked her arousal. Tension burned her shoulders and neck. Her legs and arms were oddly useless, no longer connected to her brain. She couldn’t have used them if she’d tried.

Exquisite anticipation built deep within her, intensifying her frustration, the fabled itch she couldn’t quite scratch. Round and round her excitement swirled, coiling and escalating, taunting and teasing, rushing close only to pull back, edging near then—

She bucked and inhaled sharply, everything inside her yielding and welcoming relief. Bliss steamrolled over her. Pronounced beats throbbed through her cunt, urging Ben’s fingers deeper.

His lips pulled to either side on her pussy, his grin wide. Dominic’s did the same on her mouth. Both guys happy, possibly smug.

For what they’d given her, she wasn’t about to bitch if they got cocky. They fucking earned it.

Listless, she sprawled against Dominic, her sole on Ben’s thigh. He kissed her knee.

Dominic released her wrists and pulled his mouth from hers. “Need a few winks before we smear the gunk on you?”

Ben rested his chin on her smooth mound. “If you snore, we promise not to notice.”

Romance didn’t get better than this. She smacked the side of his head and elbowed Dominic. They both howled as if she’d kneed their balls.

Men. Such babies at times. “Guys need a nap after coming. Women don’t.”

“Uh-oh.” Ben rolled his forehead over her stomach. “Is this the part where you tell us no male could survive childbirth or cramps?”

They must have heard the lecture before. “Nope. Men do have some good points.”

“Yeah?” Dominic nuzzled her neck and slipped his arm around her waist. “Such as?”

She squeezed his dick. “What do you think? Let me go.”

He released her instantly, but didn’t look happy. “The party’s over?”

Ben groaned. “Say it ain’t so.”

It wasn’t.

About the Author


Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels were Readers' Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

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