He’s hurt her once, and terrified her. He holds her future in his hands. Can she trust him with her body too?
Desperate to escape her past and start over, Ashley McAllister cuts her ties with her old life and heads for the wild landscape of West Yorkshire, the perfect place to reinvent herself. And her carefully laid plans are working, until she encounters her nemesis—the one man she’d hoped never to see again. Tom Shore, the man she and a gang of thugs attacked and robbed, and who swore he’d make her pay. He owns the cottage she now lives in and adores, and now he wants his pound of flesh. So he takes it.
Intimidated, beaten and dismayed by her sexy and dominant landlord, and totally confused by her intense physical response to him, Ashley needs Tom to guard her secrets. But will he, and his enigmatic and terrifying friend Nathan Darke, allow her to leave her past behind and start again? Having survived her first explosive and humiliating encounter with Tom, Ashley struggles to get her new life back on track. But Tom wants her. His demanding, persuasive, sensual charm is almost irresistible, his mastery of her assured.
But—can she submit to Tom’s dominance? Should she? Ashley has escaped one violent and abusive relationship. Is she about to be sucked into an even more dark and dangerous liaison?
Here’s a HOT excerpt…
I nod, close my eyes, and wait for the blindfold.
Tom carefully covers my eyes and ties the soft scarf at the back of my head before dropping a quick kiss on my mouth. “Lie back, sweetheart. On the cushions.” With his hands on my shoulders he gently presses me backwards until I am lying on my back, comfortable and warm on the pile of cushions. I feel disorientated for a moment, vulnerable, but a light stroke of his hand across my breasts and a tender caress of my swollen nipples is enough to reassure me I am safe. And, I suspect, about to have a seriously good time.
He lifts my bottom up to slide more cushions under me before lifting each of my feet in turn to place them on the edge of the table. I hear the scrape of a chair and know he’s taken a seat close to my feet. Between my legs. Sure enough, a moment later his hands are on my knees, gently but firmly spreading them, putting me on display. At his eye level.
With some considerable conscious effort I don’t resist. Instead I lie still, conscious of his eyes on me, my pussy moist and swollen, and throbbing for him to touch me again. I allow him to look, to inspect me to his satisfaction, to know every delicate fold and sensitive lip.
“Now who’s staring?” I remind him of his comment to me earlier, when he removed his shirt.
“Not staring, love. Admiring. Wonderstruck. You’re so beautiful, so perfect.” The now-familiar clenching in my lower abdomen starts up again at his softly murmured words, the wetness gathering, flowing before his eyes. He notices. “You’re so wet, pink and glistening. For me. Do you want me to touch you, Ashley? To taste you?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, please.”
His hands are on my inner thighs, sliding down to my core. His fingers resting in the slight hollow at the top of my legs, his thumbs—I think it must be his thumbs—gently caress the entrance to my pussy. He opens the delicate, swollen lips, softly stretching them. I jerk, gasp with pleasure.
“What? What are you doing?”
“I’m opening you, love. Am I hurting you?”
“No. It feels wonderful.”
“Good. And this?”
I can’t contain the squeal of pure pleasure as his tongue slides, rough and rasping, across the outer lips of my pussy before plunging deep between the lips he has spread with his thumbs. Incredibly, it is better that my hands are restrained and my eyes covered. All my senses are focused on this. On what he’s doing to me and the wonderful, intense ripples of pleasure shooting through me. I give myself over to him, to this, completely. Relaxing against the cushions I moan softly, my head thrashing from side to side as he tongue-fucks me. I accept it, take it, love it.
“Come for me, Ashley. Come. Now.”