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Hey there! I’m so excited for you to meet Colin Sloan, my sexy, tattooed, dirty-talking hero in SINFUL LONGING on Nov. 17! And I’m thrilled to share the first ever teaser! PLUS, there’s a chance to win a Kindle Fire too! Read on for details on how to enter — it’s easy and there’s no purchase required to enter! Don’t forget — you can preorder SINFUL LONGING across all retailers for the guaranteed lowest price!
Why, oh why, did he have to be off-limits? Why did he have to fall
squarely under the heading of do not pass go? It was truly fucking
unfair because no one had ever made her feel like this. Like she was
high on a touch. Like she was deliciously dizzy from a kiss. She
wanted him so badly, and not just physically. She wanted more of him,
but her emotions had to be cordoned off tonight. She told herself to
let go for this one last night, let go of everything but the way he
made her feel so alive.
“Close your eyes,” he told her firmly, and she let her eyelids drift
closed, giving in to sense. Giving in to touch.
Maybe she was selfish. Or maybe she just wanted to feel a little
something that was solely for her tonight. Nobody could deliver that
better than this man.
He was kneeling behind her. She couldn’t even see him. But she was
keenly aware of his presence as he dipped his mouth closer to her
skin. His lips fluttered over her sensitive neck once more. She ached,
pulsing between her legs as he kissed her all over. A snapping sound
fell on her ear, and her hair spilled from its clip onto her neck as
he undid her twist.
“Oh God,” she gasped, because she knew what was next.
His hands dove into her hair.
Fuck me now. Just fuck me now.
He’d discovered all her secrets the very first time he’d kissed her
and explored her body. He’d read her responses as if it were his
top-secret assignment to know every inch of her skin, then he’d
remembered and sought them out, focusing on all the places that drove
her wild. The back of her knee. The inside of her arm. Her neck, the
gateway to her pleasure.
She was hopeless with him. He’d unlocked the code to all her desires,
and he used it masterfully.
He threaded his talented fingers through her curls, gripping, and she
moved with him, moaned for him, as if she were the notes he played on
a cello. He was the musician; she was the instrument. He played and he
played and he played, and her body sang for him, a song of pure
desire. Of heat. Of want.
He twisted her hair once around his hand, pulling it to the side, and
she tilted her head that way, giving him more room to devour her neck
with kisses, like he was starved for her. He lavished pleasure all
over her, leaving her drenched in sensation from soft, fluttery
whispers along her neck, territorial kisses that claimed her as his,
all mixed with the whiskery rub of his stubble. His ever-present
scruff was trimmed to mere millimeters but long enough to brush
against her skin with every kiss, bringing the intoxicating mix of
soft and hard, of rough and tender. He rubbed his chin along her
shoulder, and she arched into him.
He snaked an arm over her shoulders, grazing along her breasts as he
traveled down her belly, his fingertips dancing against her waist.
“You like what I do to you.” It wasn’t a question.
“So incredibly much,” she said, as he flicked the tip of his tongue
across her shoulder. When he kissed her like this, and he touched her
like that, she wanted to give herself to him fully. The way he wanted.
The way he’d asked for. A voice in the back of her head started to
argue with her, to warn her what happened when she made choices in
heated moments like this, and she tensed for an instant.
But this was different. This was a moment she was choosing to relish.
A night of pleasure.
His hand reached the crest of her hip and her brain went dormant. He
traced the top of her panties through the fabric of her dress. “Show
me how much you like giving in. Show me how wet you are.”
She yanked up her skirt, bunching it near her waist, giving him
instant access to the V of her legs. Even with her panties on, there
was no hiding her arousal.
He groaned huskily. “Look at you, Elle. Look at how wet you get. For
me.” His fingers glided up the soft flesh of her thighs, and she
parted her legs for him. Grazing the wet panel, he whispered, “I want
to feel that all over my dick. I want this sweet wetness all the fuck
over me. Tell me how much you want me inside you right now. Tell me.”
“Oh God,” she panted. “Yes, God yes. I want that. I want it so much.”
“You want it?”
“You,” she said quickly, correcting her error. “I want you so much.”