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About the author:
Tawny is grateful to her readers for allowing her dream of writing and publishing to come true. Her hope is to continue to write hot, sassy, sexy erotica for women for many years to come.
Here is a short sample from the book:
He growled, hooked an arm around my waist and whirled around so I was flat against the wall and his body was holding me there.
Oh. My. God.
His mouth descended upon mine, his tongue shoved its way in, and within seconds, I was writhing against him while he kissed me into a coma.
I felt him scoop me up into his arms. He was carrying me, walking, while our tongues mated and battled. I was losing the war, ready to surrender to him, to the fierce heat boiling in my veins, to the blinding need he’d sparked in my body. He broke the kiss, stared down at me with eyes full of male hunger. “I’m sorry, Bristol. I can’t let you go now. I can’t.”
We kissed again, and again, as he carried me into the dungeon. At some point he set me on my feet, but I was too shaky to stand, and I wasn’t about to let him stop kissing me. I hung onto his neck, arms wrapped tightly, and lost myself in his aggressive, demanding, plundering kiss.
I’d been kissed plenty of times, but never like that.
Never like the man couldn’t get enough.
Never like he was staking a claim.
Never like he was conquering me.
When the kiss ended–not my choice–I clung to him and fought to catch my breath.
“Wow,” I murmured. My gaze started at his mouth but quickly moved to the closest piece of torture furniture. I felt myself backing up.
“You’ve never been in a dungeon, correct?” he asked, hands sliding down my sides.
He blocked my exit with his hulking body, held me at the hips. “If I do something you don’t like, say, Red.”
“Red?” I echoed, trying to wiggle my way free. I wasn’t ready for this. That kiss. It was the kiss’s fault I was in here. I didn’t belong here, no.
He cut me off completely, cornering me against another wall, his body a giant obstacle I couldn’t push past. He caged my head between his hands, arms stretched out. His eyes were dark, hard. “You may beg me to stop, but I won’t. You may plead with me and cry, but I won’t stop. But if you say red, I will cease immediately.”
“Red,” I muttered.
His fingertip trailed down the side of my face, down my jaw, my throat to the center of my breastbone. I sucked in a deep breath and fought to regain my composure. But he was so big and so sexy and so intimidating, I couldn’t speak. “I promise I won’t be too hard on you this first time.” He closed his hands around my waist, forcing me deeper into the room.