Title: Violent Delights
Series: White Monarch #1
I was born a princess among criminals. An untouchable among thieves. Heiress to a life others have killed for, and one I’d do anything to escape. I vowed not to leave without Diego, my first love and best friend, but if his ruthless brother has his way, I won’t leave at all. Cristiano de la Rosa is a man as big and bold as his legend. Once upon a time, he was our cartel’s best soldier . . . until he became my family’s worst enemy.
A man like Cristiano will bend fate to his will to get what he wants. Even if it means dragging me to hell—and tearing me from his brother’s arms.
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 18, 2019
Bastien remained still across the small sacristy, head bowed as he continued to work quietly, deft fingers sliding thin, golden ropes of sacred fabric through his fingers. “I’d rather know what you think.”
Frustration thickened my blood. “I’m your dark night of the soul?! I think you went a step too far.”
“If that’s what you call a step too far I’d hate to hear what you call indecent.” His body was against mine in an instant, my breasts heaving with shallow irritation and grazing the fabric of his vestments.
This profoundly infuriating man was under my skin like no one else had ever been, and just like a bad tattoo, I’d pay a professional to gouge him out of my soul if I could.
“This, for instance,” he hissed, “is surely a step too close to your precious comfort zone.” His body pressed closer, the deep ridge of his arousal cutting at my hip and causing my throat to crack and turn to dust. “Don’t trick yourself into believing that you know you more than I do, Tressa.”
His dark eyes glinted in the dim light, heartbeat vibrating in my ears the only noise in the room.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I couldn’t catch my breath, his fingers crawling their way past my wrists, grazing the underside of my elbows before his thumbs dug in and he was as far deep inside my own heart as he could possibly go.
“You like the dance, sweet dove, but just when things get intimate you pull away.”
His scathing truth cut like a hot blade.
“No,” I squeaked.
His soft chuckle my only reply, my eyelids already glued shut in opposition of his words.
“You think you only show me the side of you you want me to see,” Bastien’s thumb danced the arch of my brow, “but I see so much more than that.” His eyes flicked down to my lips, hips working softly against mine.
“I’m trained to see the broken parts you’ve spent a lifetime hiding. I’m trained to be your light in the darkness, Tressa, but all that darkness,” his thumbs worked inside my elbows, swaying me against his body as he grit against my neck, “it weighs on me some days. Seminary doesn’t teach a flesh and blood man how to channel all that darkness into…” he flexed behind his robes, my body humming with pure desire for anything more he had to give, “productive activities.”
I didn’t have a reply for him, the way he swallowed my space and caused my heart to thrum like a hummingbird was distracting enough, but his skin setting flame to mine was beyond unbearable.
“What about you, then?” I summoned my earlier anger. “You fancy yourself some sort of holier than thou saint? Forgive me Father, but I call bullshit.”
Bastien’s eyes held mine, the amusement chasing through his chocolate irises giving me enough satisfaction to live on for days.
I squared my shoulders. “You’re a prisoner to your belief.”
His eyebrows rose, shock striking him before his face settled to that same well-orchestrated calm he reserved for his parishioners. “You can bet I’m a prisoner, but not for the reasons you think.”
His admission caught me off guard, but not more than the next moment did.
His palms caught my face, thumbs trailing down the warmth of my throat before he smashed our lips together.
His kiss defiled as much as it gave life.
He raped me to the depths of my soul without ever removing a strip of my clothing.
“But that’s where my beliefs with the church diverge.” He lips teased at the corners of my mouth before his tongue darted out, tasting the bow of my top lip.
Oh sweet fucking heaven.
“I happen to believe it isn’t living if you’re not breaking a rule every now and again.”
He caught the soft whimper on my lips with his, swallowing it instantly before his tongue pushed past the barrier and he was sheathed in me again.
His taste, far deadlier than I’d remembered.
“Despite what my church may believe,” Bastien’s thumbs hooked at my shirt, the warm pads of his fingertips sliding against my skin and cutting through my nerves like hot butter, “I can’t renounce you.”
His palms slid up my torso, divesting me of my shirt while one hand cupped a shiny chalice, drips of wine already making their way between my breasts. Staining the satin bra I wore, pooling in my navel, soaking a rebel river of red overtop the elastic of my panties.
“I know the taste of sin, sweet Tressa, I’ve tasted it every night in my dreams. Craving you is a new and deadlier form of hell than the last I’d overcome.” He dropped to his knees, the empty cup slipping to the floor and soaking his white robes in scarlet before his tongue met my flesh in slow swipes, eyes glinting as he held me flush to his mouth.
Soft mewls formed on my lips as my body fell apart in his arms, limbs loose as he worked his way up my body, tongue tasting every inch of the blessed wine from my skin as he went.
“I am very surely a prisoner to you, my sweet dove.”
Married to her own Prince Charming, she now lives among the sand dunes of Lake Michigan, and plays mama to two sweet baby girls. She’s a romantic rebel and word junkie that believes wanderlust is life, is part of the #goodvibetribe, and wishes she had more time to read and knit scarves to keep her cozy during the arctic Michigan winters. Yoga pants, puppies, and mac and cheese also help. Never miss a release! Get an alert at: http://www.adrianeleigh.com
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“Adriane Leigh never dissapoints with equal amounts of heat and heart with all the sex, suspense and scandal…Leigh’s newest mysterious hero will have you anxiously flipping pages well into the night trying to uncover his secrets.” – Jay Crownover, Marked Men
I want what I can’t have.
But I’ll take it anyway because Gretchen Andrews has done the one thing my wife never could….she’s made me love her.
Luca’s hand pulls away from my chin, and he takes my glass, putting it on the table.
“How I see it is you need to stop assuming the worst and trust me to care for you, and the only way for us to do that is to make sure you get what you need, over and over, until you take it for granted.”
He’s talking about more than just sex, even though I love the “over and over” part. I didn’t trust him; I prolonged this moment as much as his stubbornness did. But I did it by way of mistrust, assuming he wouldn’t do what we both needed.
“So, you want to teach me a lesson in trust?”
The desire in my voice gives away my readiness.
“I paid a helluva price almost losing you. What price should you pay for not trusting me? Huh?”
The tumbler he’s holding runs up my leg, and I can feel the coolness through my jeans. Luca leans close to my cheek and whispers, “Choose your fate. Do you want to be fucked or loved, Angel?”
I close my eyes, knowing they aren’t mutually exclusive, but for us, they have very specific meanings. He knows I need the connection between us, the aggression and anger we’ve both felt to play about in the sheets.
His breath is warm against my skin as he keeps whispering.
“Maybe we play your favorite game, Angel. I’ll hunt you…here.”
He brings the glass between my legs and runs it up, rolling it over where my clit is throbbing. My breath hitches.
“Do you trust me?” he asks seductively.
He sets his drink down and begins to gather my T-shirt, tugging it up.
I look around, worried about being caught.
“Luca, someone could catch us. The wall is all glass.”
The minute I say it, I know I failed my lesson. Luca doesn’t stop or change expression as he pulls my shirt up and over my head, leaving me exposed in just my bra.
“Take them off, or I will,” he directs in his deep gravel, indicating my jeans.
I’m not a submissive girl. But when he does this, gets sexually dominant, I feel understood. I’m a powerful woman, and I need a man who can handle me, break me, and make me feel devoured. Luca was made for me. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“The longer I wait, the longer you wait to come. Get ’em off,” he growls. Holy hell, I’m wet. Rough Luca is my favorite Luca.
I reach slowly for my button and pull it open, challenging his patience by lowering the zipper only a fraction.
“You know, I’m not wearing underwear,” I lie.
The thought of being fucked out here where someone could catch us makes me nervous, even if I’m supposed to trust him.
“When I pull off these jeans, everyone will see what’s yours…you sure you want to share?” My voice is a purr, and he bites his lip, gripping his bulge.
I know I’ve won. No fucking way is he willing to share me with prying eyes.
Right as I feel victorious, Luca shakes his head and says, “So fucking stubborn,” then grabs me by the waistband of my jeans and jerks me forward.
“Luca!” I yelp and laugh.
He pushes his hand down the front of my jeans, and I gasp, silenced. Grabbing my tiny lace G-string, along with the few hairs I have down below, he tugs me closer, and the sensation makes my pussy slick with need.
My back arches from being pulled forward.
“Little liar,” he whispers knowingly, and I whimper.
Pleasure grips my body as his hold tightens.
“You definitely need a lesson in trust. Maybe I’ll take it out on your ass or maybe in your ass. Here’s the game, baby: I catch you, I pick.”
His hand retreats as he takes a step away from me.
I’m breathless. My entire body is on fire. This man speaks to every filthy fucking piece of me.
“What’s the second choice? What if you don’t catch me?” I ask hungrily.
A slow smile grows on his gorgeous face. Luca takes out his phone from his pocket and presses a button, laughing to himself.
The light that glowed from inside the house begins to fade as heavy black shades roll down, and I hear a click as the door locks. He was never going to let me be seen.
But now, I’m on my own.
Deep, dark and dangerous.
Good and evil at war within him.
I’m caught in the cross-fire,
but I want to be here.
A cold-hearted man, or is he?
I’m about to find out.She’s breezed into my life
like a latter-day Mary Poppins
A sassy girl from England
with the voice of an angel,
and the body of a goddess.
I need her in my life like a bullet in the brain.
Everything about her tempts me.
But she’s an itch I won’t be scratching.
Except, the best-laid plans have a habit of going wrong.
Soon I’ll find out what really matters,
and that the worst lies
are the lies you tell to yourself.
From international bestselling author SC Daiko comes a gripping new
standalone romance with all the feels…
Tonight, Zoe wasn’t wearing the halter-neck dress. She appeared in figure-hugging jeans and a blue cotton blouse that set off the topaz in her beautiful irises. After declining a glass of wine, she sat next to me, shooting me a look from under her dark lashes.
Mrs K arrived with our starter course, a fresh vegetable salad made with cucumbers, tomatoes and onions. She served us and returned to the kitchen.
I swirled the wine in my glass. “I’m sorry if I was a little abrupt when we said goodnight yesterday.”
“Abrupt? You were more than abrupt.” Her eyes flashed. “You were downright rude.”
“I’m not a nice man. I don’t do ‘nice’. I can’t.”
“If I show any weakness, I’ll be finished.” I lifted my fork and speared a tomato.
She took a sip of water. “Being nice isn’t the same as being weak, I don’t think.”
“You are right, rybka. It isn’t.” I shook my head. “I guess I’ve just gotten out of the habit.”
She chewed some salad and swallowed. “Were you horrible to your wife? Is that why you got divorced?”
“None of your concern,” I snapped, slamming my hand down on the table. Dishes rattled and the water in Zoe’s glass sloshed over the edge.
She shot me a withering look. “There you go again, being a prick. I’m only trying to understand you, Taras.”