Series: Blasphemy #1
on October 11, 2016
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From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…
He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…
Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable.
Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s back at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.
Hey everyone! I’m super excited to share an excerpt from Bound to Submit, the first official book in my brand new and super-hot Blasphemy series! This is an erotic second-chance love story featuring a tormented Dom and a veteran amputee heroine – and these guys had such an amazing, yearning chemistry! I hope you’ll pick up your copy – and welcome to Blasphemy!
Now, here’s a little taste of the heat coming your way in Bound to Submit – enjoy!
After he bound her hands and feet, Griffin leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth, the gesture a little reward that poked at things inside her chest. “I could be very happy with having you just like this. But do you want more, Kenna?”
“Yes. More, Sir, please.” She wanted rope marks imprinted deep into her skin. Everywhere.
His chuckle was full of a sexy smugness. “That almost sounded like begging. And I always did like when you begged.” He moved behind her, pulling the rope attached to her wrists around the back of her neck, knotting it to her opposite wrist, and then creating a crisscross that ran between her breasts and wrapped around her torso.
Kenna whimpered, because it felt fucking amazing to be bound this way. But she was going to cut the PVC bodysuit she’d worn to shreds the minute she got home for keeping her from feeling the rough, direct press of the twine.
“Regretting that suit now, aren’t you?” He came around her and winked as he surveyed his handiwork.
She twisted her lips and kept silent, because he already knew the answer. Damn him.
Silently, he walked around her, observing her as she observed him in return. The beautiful, confusing tattoo on his back. Those broad shoulders, the perfect fit of those black jeans on his thighs and ass, the prominent bulge of his cock under the denim, the longish black hair that she knew he loved for her to grip when they kissed. The thought made her struggle against the bindings.
He paused in front of her, his gaze dragging over his handiwork. “Fuck, Kenna. I have bound you in my dreams a thousand times.” He shook his head. “But not one of those compared to the privilege of actually getting my hands on you again.”
He’d dreamt of her? His words, being bound again after all this time, her arousal, all of it nearly made her dizzy.
And then he reached between her legs and unsnapped the closure of her bodysuit.
The contact of his fingers against her pussy and the too-quick brush of his touch against her clit made her moan and flinch forward.
Master Griffin caught and steadied her. “Be still, little one. And let me do what I will.”
She nodded, her brain and body still reeling. A light sheen of sweat broke out across her skin as anticipation flooded through her.
And then he left her. Her ears tuned into the movements he made from somewhere behind her, causing all that anticipation to ramp up even more until her lungs were working faster. The lights went down some and, combined with the music, the soft, golden dimness created an atmosphere that felt both sensual and risky, sexy and dangerous. And what he returned with made her inhale a fast breath.
A flogger. The kind with the delicious wide leather tails. He held the black-leather implement in both hands, the thick braided handle in his right, and the gathered tails in his left. He slapped the tails against his palm as he spoke. “Are you ready for some endorphins, Kenna?”
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