Here's the last sneak peek for Goal Line before its release in just over a week! :)
In other news, I'm flying down to Vegas today. Wish me luck!
And ENJOY!
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Excerpt:
Oriana relaxed into the mattress, taking a moment to watch her infuriating, yet wonderful men prepare for the scene with the same harmony they’d once had on the ice. Sloan still held the dagger, but he acted almost as though he’d forgotten her as he observed Max lighting a few red candles—not for light, the room was bright enough and Sloan wouldn’t do a scene like this in the dark. They added some ambiance, but Max put one on the nightstand by the first aid kit, within Sloan’s reach, meaning blades wouldn’t be the only things on her flesh tonight.
While Max shifted his attention from the candles to the Beatbox on the dresser, putting on a playlist of haunting classical music, Sloan turned his dark gaze to Oriana. In black jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, his black hair mussed up and a slanted smile on his lips, he looked positively evil. His muscles seemed even bigger with him standing over her, and she couldn’t dismiss the knowledge that this man could hurt her badly if he chose to.
She wanted him to hurt her. And she craved the slice of fear that she experienced whenever they played like this. From the beginning, she’d thought she’d need more and more pain to reach the exquisite high she felt with every bite of the whip or thud of the paddle. Not many would consider what they did safe, but rarely were there any marks that left her more than a little sore for a few days. She loved each and every bruise. When the whip or the cane drew blood, she would admire the marks as Sloan or Max tended to them. They were beautiful reminders of scenes that satisfied her in every way.
But it ended up being fear that made an excess of pain unnecessary. During a scene, she would let herself believe that this time it might go too far. Her trust in Sloan made doing so feel safe. He’d never harm her in a way she couldn’t easily recover from. He was careful and he knew what he was doing.
Which included enough of a mindfuck to keep her guessing what he would do next. She always thought she was prepared for anything.
And she was always wrong.
In a swift motion, Sloan raked his fingers through her hair, tipping her head back as he laid the flat of the dagger against her throat. She hissed in a shocked breath and her eyes went wide. A surge of adrenaline had her shivering though she tried to stay very, very still. Heat pooled in her core even as she whimpered at the pain in her scalp.
“So pretty.” Sloan tugged harder at her hair and bent down to lay a gentle kiss on her lips. “I shouldn’t want to hurt you as much as I do. I should let you go, shouldn’t I?”
She wanted to shake her head, but moving with a blade at her throat and his firm grip on her hair was impossible. So she wet her lips and whispered, “Yes.”
A movement behind Sloan caught her attention. Max had shifted closer, and for a second, she was afraid he might have changed his mind about the scene. He’d been in the lifestyle long enough to understand using safewords to stop play rather than “No” or “Don’t” or any other words that might be spoken to spice things up. He trusted Sloan as much as she did, but…there had been times in the past when he’d needed more reassurance that she was really all right.
His lips quirked and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. And she let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t one of those times. If she’d read him right, he was enjoying the show.
“Were you expecting him to help you? Let me tell you something about him.” Sloan bent down to whisper in her ear. “He’ll take whatever’s left of you. He’s a very patient man.”
“Please…” Oriana wasn’t even sure what she was asking for, but she needed more. Sensing Max so close, feeling Sloan’s restraint as he slowly laid the groundwork for their erotic role-play, made her want to struggle to push it to the next level. But she wouldn’t risk any sudden movements with the blade at her throat. Not even when she knew the blade was dull.
Sloan cocked his head, pulling the dagger away and releasing her hair. “Please? Do you think I’ll let you go if you beg?”
Holding her breath and giving no warning, Oriana lurched to the other side of the bed. She screamed as Sloan dragged her back by her hair while Max latched on to her ankles. Her eyes teared, but she almost laughed with nervous excitement as they pinned her down.
Dropping the dagger as she swung at him, Sloan caught her wrists in one hand and pulled them up over her head. “Silly girl. Now I’m going to have to hurt you.”
Yes! Oriana twisted as Sloan pulled out the cuffs permanently attached to the bed frame, but Max moved up the bed, straddling her and pressing his hands to her shoulders to hold her down. She tried to bite him and he lightly slapped her cheek.
Not hard enough to even sting, but it shocked her. He didn’t usually participate in the edgier aspects of their games, and slapping her face was something even Sloan rarely did. Caught off guard, she stared at him as Sloan secured her wrists with the cuffs. It took a moment to sort out her thoughts, but when she did, she realized she loved that he’d gotten into his role enough to do something unexpected. She wet her lips, hoping he’d take that as a sign that she was fine with what he’d done.
But, as he’d say, bless his heart. He’d caught himself off guard too, and his brow furrowed with concern. “I—”
“Just made her very happy. Don’t spoil it, buddy.” Sloan patted Max’s shoulder as he studied Oriana’s face, inclining his head when she gave him a quick, reassuring smile. “This slut is probably dripping wet. Are you wet, girl?”
She shook her head, heat spreading over her cheeks as she felt the sheet under her ass grow damp with her arousal. Sloan didn’t miss a beat. He put his hand on her throat and smirked. “Why don’t you check, Max?”
As Sloan’s grip on her throat tightened, her thighs were spread even farther apart. Max thrust two fingers into her, letting out a soft groan as he lowered his head to flick her clit with his tongue.
Her hips bucked and she gasped. “Oh God!”
Sloan chuckled, running his hand down her body, between her breasts, over her stomach, then back up so he could squeeze her breast. “He’s not gonna save you either, little girl. The only thing that will save you is if you make me happy. And I’m not easy to please.”
The candles on the nightstand flickered as Sloan reached out, taking one and tilting it to let a few drops fall on the back of his own hand. He shifted to hold it over her chest, upending it to drizzle the hot wax across her breasts, using a circular motion to draw wax spirals from the base of one breast all the way to her nipple.
A slight burning sensation hit her with each droplet, and she moaned as the sweet haze clouded her mind. Her skin felt tight under the wax and sensitive where her flesh waited for the bite of pain.
Looking down her body, she watched the red cover her pale golden flesh, meeting Max’s eyes when he lifted his head and pulled his fingers from her body to slip them into his mouth. Her cunt clenched against the emptiness, more juices spilling at the erotic visual. Combined with the fresh sting of heat, the sensation brought her to the verge of either floating away in ecstasy or being thrown into a fierce orgasm.
Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras #7)Pre-Order:
AMAZON- http://bit.ly/goallineKIN
Kobo - http://bit.ly/goallineKOBO
In other news, I'm flying down to Vegas today. Wish me luck!
And ENJOY!
Excerpt:
Oriana relaxed into the mattress, taking a moment to watch her infuriating, yet wonderful men prepare for the scene with the same harmony they’d once had on the ice. Sloan still held the dagger, but he acted almost as though he’d forgotten her as he observed Max lighting a few red candles—not for light, the room was bright enough and Sloan wouldn’t do a scene like this in the dark. They added some ambiance, but Max put one on the nightstand by the first aid kit, within Sloan’s reach, meaning blades wouldn’t be the only things on her flesh tonight.
While Max shifted his attention from the candles to the Beatbox on the dresser, putting on a playlist of haunting classical music, Sloan turned his dark gaze to Oriana. In black jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, his black hair mussed up and a slanted smile on his lips, he looked positively evil. His muscles seemed even bigger with him standing over her, and she couldn’t dismiss the knowledge that this man could hurt her badly if he chose to.
She wanted him to hurt her. And she craved the slice of fear that she experienced whenever they played like this. From the beginning, she’d thought she’d need more and more pain to reach the exquisite high she felt with every bite of the whip or thud of the paddle. Not many would consider what they did safe, but rarely were there any marks that left her more than a little sore for a few days. She loved each and every bruise. When the whip or the cane drew blood, she would admire the marks as Sloan or Max tended to them. They were beautiful reminders of scenes that satisfied her in every way.
But it ended up being fear that made an excess of pain unnecessary. During a scene, she would let herself believe that this time it might go too far. Her trust in Sloan made doing so feel safe. He’d never harm her in a way she couldn’t easily recover from. He was careful and he knew what he was doing.
Which included enough of a mindfuck to keep her guessing what he would do next. She always thought she was prepared for anything.
And she was always wrong.
In a swift motion, Sloan raked his fingers through her hair, tipping her head back as he laid the flat of the dagger against her throat. She hissed in a shocked breath and her eyes went wide. A surge of adrenaline had her shivering though she tried to stay very, very still. Heat pooled in her core even as she whimpered at the pain in her scalp.
“So pretty.” Sloan tugged harder at her hair and bent down to lay a gentle kiss on her lips. “I shouldn’t want to hurt you as much as I do. I should let you go, shouldn’t I?”
She wanted to shake her head, but moving with a blade at her throat and his firm grip on her hair was impossible. So she wet her lips and whispered, “Yes.”
A movement behind Sloan caught her attention. Max had shifted closer, and for a second, she was afraid he might have changed his mind about the scene. He’d been in the lifestyle long enough to understand using safewords to stop play rather than “No” or “Don’t” or any other words that might be spoken to spice things up. He trusted Sloan as much as she did, but…there had been times in the past when he’d needed more reassurance that she was really all right.
His lips quirked and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. And she let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t one of those times. If she’d read him right, he was enjoying the show.
“Were you expecting him to help you? Let me tell you something about him.” Sloan bent down to whisper in her ear. “He’ll take whatever’s left of you. He’s a very patient man.”
“Please…” Oriana wasn’t even sure what she was asking for, but she needed more. Sensing Max so close, feeling Sloan’s restraint as he slowly laid the groundwork for their erotic role-play, made her want to struggle to push it to the next level. But she wouldn’t risk any sudden movements with the blade at her throat. Not even when she knew the blade was dull.
Sloan cocked his head, pulling the dagger away and releasing her hair. “Please? Do you think I’ll let you go if you beg?”
Holding her breath and giving no warning, Oriana lurched to the other side of the bed. She screamed as Sloan dragged her back by her hair while Max latched on to her ankles. Her eyes teared, but she almost laughed with nervous excitement as they pinned her down.
Dropping the dagger as she swung at him, Sloan caught her wrists in one hand and pulled them up over her head. “Silly girl. Now I’m going to have to hurt you.”
Yes! Oriana twisted as Sloan pulled out the cuffs permanently attached to the bed frame, but Max moved up the bed, straddling her and pressing his hands to her shoulders to hold her down. She tried to bite him and he lightly slapped her cheek.
Not hard enough to even sting, but it shocked her. He didn’t usually participate in the edgier aspects of their games, and slapping her face was something even Sloan rarely did. Caught off guard, she stared at him as Sloan secured her wrists with the cuffs. It took a moment to sort out her thoughts, but when she did, she realized she loved that he’d gotten into his role enough to do something unexpected. She wet her lips, hoping he’d take that as a sign that she was fine with what he’d done.
But, as he’d say, bless his heart. He’d caught himself off guard too, and his brow furrowed with concern. “I—”
“Just made her very happy. Don’t spoil it, buddy.” Sloan patted Max’s shoulder as he studied Oriana’s face, inclining his head when she gave him a quick, reassuring smile. “This slut is probably dripping wet. Are you wet, girl?”
She shook her head, heat spreading over her cheeks as she felt the sheet under her ass grow damp with her arousal. Sloan didn’t miss a beat. He put his hand on her throat and smirked. “Why don’t you check, Max?”
As Sloan’s grip on her throat tightened, her thighs were spread even farther apart. Max thrust two fingers into her, letting out a soft groan as he lowered his head to flick her clit with his tongue.
Her hips bucked and she gasped. “Oh God!”
Sloan chuckled, running his hand down her body, between her breasts, over her stomach, then back up so he could squeeze her breast. “He’s not gonna save you either, little girl. The only thing that will save you is if you make me happy. And I’m not easy to please.”
The candles on the nightstand flickered as Sloan reached out, taking one and tilting it to let a few drops fall on the back of his own hand. He shifted to hold it over her chest, upending it to drizzle the hot wax across her breasts, using a circular motion to draw wax spirals from the base of one breast all the way to her nipple.
A slight burning sensation hit her with each droplet, and she moaned as the sweet haze clouded her mind. Her skin felt tight under the wax and sensitive where her flesh waited for the bite of pain.
Looking down her body, she watched the red cover her pale golden flesh, meeting Max’s eyes when he lifted his head and pulled his fingers from her body to slip them into his mouth. Her cunt clenched against the emptiness, more juices spilling at the erotic visual. Combined with the fresh sting of heat, the sensation brought her to the verge of either floating away in ecstasy or being thrown into a fierce orgasm.
Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras #7)Pre-Order:
AMAZON- http://bit.ly/goallineKIN
Kobo - http://bit.ly/goallineKOBO