by Tawny Taylor
Was that meant to be a compliment?
“You look like your father,” I told him with my heart in my throat. He was still staring at my mouth, this beautiful, mysterious man. It was wrong, so so wrong, but I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to find out what it would be like to be kissed by a man who knew how to kiss. I wanted to be touched by a man who knew how to touch a woman.
He didn’t move, just remained fixed in place as if he was trying to decide whether he would kiss me or not.
And so I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his.
His lips were firm at first, unwelcoming. But I knew he wanted me. I didn’t back off. I arched my back so my breasts barely brushed against his chest and moved my mouth slowly, softly over his.
The smoldering kiss continued for a million racing heartbeats, maybe more. I completely lost track of time, of space, of everything. Until there was a deep rumble, like thunder.
And then lightning struck. Somewhere out there. In the distance.
And also between Kent and me.
Kent grabbed my shoulders, pulled until my torso was flush with his. His mouth claimed mine. It was the kiss I’d been waiting for my entire life. It was soft and rough, thrilling and scary. It was a question and an answer.
It was a conquering.
And I surrendered.
I was his. His to claim. His to touch. His to take.
My body molded to his. My mouth opened. His tongue swept inside, and I savored his intoxicating, sweet flavor.
Heavy need pounded between my legs. I writhed. I whimpered. I welcomed his invasion.
I felt him shifting beside me and then he was above me, and I was angling back, my shoulders supported by a strong, thick arm. My head rested on the seat and he climbed over me, breaking the kiss.
I pulled in a gasp. My head was spinning. All I saw was Kent, his face…and the desire burning in his eyes.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered as he kissed me again. His kiss was tender. It was thorough. It was oh, so, good and yet not enough. The burning between my legs was becoming unbearable.
“Please,” I begged, arching my back so my breasts brushed against his chest. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was the delicious pleasure pulsing through me. He couldn’t stop now.
“Shayne,” he murmured, cupping my cheek. His thumb traced my lower lip and I quivered from head to toe. Did he know what his touches did to me? What his kisses did? I was so hot I felt like I would combust. And the burning was the worst down there, between my legs. I wanted it to stop...and I didn’t.
My hips rocked back and forth, back and forth. The friction against my center felt so good but even that wasn’t enough. I wanted to tear my clothes away, to feel his skin gliding over mine. To feel his wet, warm mouth on my nipple.
“Your mother is trusting me to protect you,” he said, voice husky. Even as he said those words, his hand slid down, fingertip tracing a line along the pounding pulse in my throat. The gentle touch made me whimper.
More, I needed more.
As if he could read my thoughts, his fingertip ventured lower, along my collarbone, lower, angling toward my ample cleavage.
Yes, oh yes. Keep going. He had to keep going.
“But you’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t stop wanting you.”
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Please turn the page for a special sneak preview of RAW by Tawny Taylor.
For fans of dark, gripping romance,
RAW by New York Times Best Selling author, Tawny Taylor
It was supposed to be fun, the vacation of a lifetime. A dream vacation in Europe. Seven days of exploring Spain’s lush countryside with my bestie, Sidonie. Seven nights of romance with a billionaire in the market for a trophy wife—with Sid acting as full-time escort to keep me safe, of course. All arranged by an elite matchmaking service that catered to lonely billionaires. What could go wrong?
Nothing. Or so I thought.
I was dead wrong.
Sidonie mysteriously fell ill they day I was scheduled to leave and had to be replaced by a strange woman I didn’t trust or like.
And those days of exploring Spain?
Spent locked in a room.
I wasn’t on vacation.
I’d been sold.
To the highest bidder.
WARNING: This book contains sexual situations of a rough nature – and includes violence and strong language that may be offensive to some readers.
SAMPLE
I backed away from him, one step, two. “Please. I’m a virgin. And I want—need--to stay that way. I promised my parents, I promised myself, I wouldn’t have sex until I was married. Please don’t take that away from me, my right to make a choice.”
Staring at me with obsidian eyes, cold and hard, he shook his head. “Your pleas land on deaf ears, esclavo. I could care less what you want. I only care that I’ve paid good money for you and I intend to get what I paid for.”
My head spun. I staggered back another step. Was he suggesting…the agency, FI, knew what would happen to me? Did they know before I even left the US? “You paid money? To fuck me?”
“I paid money to do whatever I like to you. For one week. And we’re wasting time.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. My head spun. Thoughts whipped through it, jumbled. “How much money? Maybe I can return your money?”
One brow quirked. “Do you have two million dollars, esclavo? You said you had nothing.”
I gasped. Then, because for some reason the oxygen I’d gulped didn’t make it to my lungs, I gasped a second time. “Two million? Two million U.S. dollars?” My legs wobbled. “Two million?”
“Two million.” Once again, he closed the distance between us. “So you see, esclavo, I will get whatever I want. I’ve paid a great price for the right.”
“But…but…I’m not for sale!”
“You were.” He prowled closer, evil smile in place, eyes glittering. “And I was the highest bidder.”
This couldn’t be happening. Had Sid’s boss sold me like a common whore? Sid couldn’t have known! My stomach convulsed, and I fell to my knees. I heaved but nothing came up.
Something hard and tight clamped around my arm and within a split second I was pulled across the room. With every inch I was dragged my terror swelled. And so did my fury. I fought. I kicked. I writhed and screamed until I was breathless and heaving and trembling all over. Stopping in front of the big wooden X bolted to the back wall, he hauled me to my feet then jerked one of my arms up.
Oh God. If he tied me up I wouldn’t be able to fight. He would be able to do anything he wanted to me. Anything at all.
Sid was a zillion miles away.
And Tonya…? Where the fuck was she?
Shit, I was alone. There was no one here to help me. He could kill me.
I fought even harder. I fought with everything I had. My rage pummeled my system, and I used it to drive me to keep fighting, even when he had one wrist bound. I swung with the other one and kicked with both feet until he’d secured both wrists and ankles in cuffs.
I’d fought. I’d lost.
But I wasn’t giving up.
I was chained to a big x, my back facing my captor. But I was still a virgin. And I was still alive. For now.
But for how much longer?
My muscles were so tense they cramped. My nerves were jangling so badly I shook from head to toe. My senses were hyper-alert. I heard him moving behind me. I felt the slightest gust of air when he came closer. His cologne filled my nostrils.
His heat burned my back, even though I was still wearing my clothes.
The hairs on my nape stood on end.
“I enjoy your fire, esclavo. Now, let me see if you enjoy mine.”
What did that mean?
My insides twisted.
Heat gushed to my core.
What the fuck?
Shocked by my b
ody’s reaction to the menace in his voice, I let my head fall forward until my forehead rested on the structure to which I was bound. “Go to hell.” Since when did the threat of rape turn me on? Since when did a bastard who didn’t give a fuck about me make me cream my panties?
I was sick. Sick!
I deserved to go to hell too.
Confused and disgusted with myself, I smacked my head against the wood and curled my fingers so tightly my fingernails dug into my palms. A sob ripped up my throat.
Behind me, he said, “Now, it is time to see what I have paid for.”
I felt a tug at the back of my shirt and then the sound of rending fabric echoed through the tense silence. My spine arched and I jerked in a desperate (but pointless) attempt at escape. A breeze chilled my back as the torn pieces of my sweater and tank top fell aside and my skin prickled with goose bumps. My bathing suit strap snapped and my breasts fell out of the cups. My nipples hardened almost instantly. And another blast of heat pulsed to my center.
I was fucked up.
“Stop it,” I yelled. “Stop it now.”
“Ah, esclavo, keep screaming. Keep shouting. Your pretty little voice makes my cock hard.”
My skirt was next, cut, torn, I couldn’t tell which. The material slid down my right leg, catching on a cuff at my ankle. My bathing suit bottoms would be next. Oh God.
My pussy clenched. Hot, sticky cream coated my folds, dampening the lining.
He audibly inhaled. “I can smell your cream. Intoxicating.”
“Fuck you.”
“As you wish.”
I felt the tug at the waistband and panic gripped me. I writhed, fighting the chains holding my ankles and wrists in place. But there was no hope, no use. I was bound tight, unable to resist. Fingers slid down my lycra-covered crack. I trembled. Tears coursed down my cheeks, even as more heat pounded to my pussy. I was shocked and ashamed by my body’s response. I despised this man, even if he had the face of an angel. I didn’t want him to touch me. Not my back. Not my ass. And…oh God…not down there.
“No,” I said on a whimper. “No, no, no.”
His fingers grazed over my sensitive flesh. No man had ever touched my pussy. It felt so good. Good but wrong. Wrong but thrilling.
“Please stop,” I begged.
“Do you know what the scent of your cream does to me? Esclavo, you are so wet. I want to cram my cock into that slick, tight heat and make you scream until you can’t scream anymore.” My thighs tensed. He kicked at the insides of my feet and they slid wider apart, as far as the chains would allow, opening my center for his probing digits.
My breathing quickened. My heartbeat thumped through my body, sending wave upon wave of lust burning through my core. My pussy was empty and clenching, so wet and hot I ached. Instinct told me to open wider, surrender to him to pacify him, even as my brain told me to resist, to fight, to beg for mercy and cling to my pride.
I couldn’t let him take what was mine, dammit.
But even as that thought blazed through my mind, I quivered with need. His fingers slipped into the leg of my bottoms, fingernails grazing my labia. My insides pulsed, and the air filled with the sweet scent of my need.
Ohmygod! I was shameless. I was a whore. A whore who didn’t just want his touch to delve deeper, I needed his touch to delve deeper.
Closing my eyes, I waited, my breath in my throat. My blood was like lava, burning through my body. Every nerve in my skin was electrified. His touch awakened a part of myself I hadn’t realized existed. The feral self who didn’t give a damn about shoulds and should nots.
“This is mine. My cunt.” When his finger slipped between my nether lips, I whimpered. I quaked. I bit my lip and dug my fingernails into my palms. Deeper. I wanted his touch to go deeper. To thrust inside, stretch me wide.
Instead, it slid out.
“You surrender so quickly, esclavo. Where did that fire go?” He walked away, leaving me standing there, barely able to hold myself up. My legs were as soft as molten gelatin. Knees wobbly. Pulse pounding in my ears. Arms practically numb from lack of blood supply. And the evidence of my need dripping from my pussy.
Was he done?
Ohthankgod! He hadn’t hurt me. He hadn’t raped me either.
The door’s hinges creaked. His footsteps echoed. He was out in the hallway.
I pulled in a deep breath. Was I safe? Where was he going? How long would he be gone?
For now my virginity was still intact. And I was unharmed. But my pride…that was long gone. With just a few strokes he’d tamed me. I’d gone from kicking and screaming to protect myself to practically begging him to take me.
And this was just the first day. The first hour of the first day.
If he kept to his word (and that was a big if, in my book), and would release me at the end of the week, there were still many hours of this torture ahead of me yet.
How would I survive?
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For fans of Fifty Shades of Grey and Anything He Wants,
By NY Times Bestselling author Tawny Taylor
The My Alpha Billionaire series.
Five books. Five heart-racing, lust-filled stories of dark erotic pleasure.
What He Wants (My Alpha Billionaire, 1)
What He Demands (My Alpha Billionaire, 2)
What He Craves (My Alpha Billionaire, 3)
What He Needs (My Alpha Billionaire, 4)
What He Desires (My Alpha Billionaire, 5)
SAMPLE
He captured my arms, like he loved to do, and pinned them behind my back. Then he jerked me against him and glared down into my eyes.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“No.”
He yanked me closer yet. Now, when he inhaled, I felt the rise of his chest. “Are you ready to talk?”
Carnal need coiled around me, quiet but deadly, curling up from my legs, around my chest, my stomach, twisting in my center. “No.”
“If you won’t talk then…” He smashed his mouth over mine.
The air left my lungs in a sharp whoosh and I parted my lips to re-inflate them. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he pushed his tongue inside, filling my mouth with his decadent flavor. It stroked and tasted, even as I writhed against him, struggling to break free. Using my tongue as a defense, I tried to force him out, to break the kiss and end the torment. But he was so strong. I couldn’t win this battle. But I was determined, somehow, to win the war.
Lips, tongue, teeth. He used them expertly, conquering my will. He didn’t just kiss. He possessed. Not just my mouth but my body and my mind. He banished all thoughts of resistance. Before I realized it, I was whimpering from the agony, kissing him back. My blood pounded through my body, burning between my legs. A throbbing ache was gathering deep inside. Never had I hurt so badly from a kiss. Never had I surrendered so quickly, so easily.
He skimmed his free hand up my side, tracing the curve of my hip, the dip of my waist. His kiss, his touch…I craved more. I needed more. Even though I didn’t want to. Shallow little pants replaced long, even breaths as my suffering intensified. “Say it,” he whispered in my ear.
His warm breath tickled. My skin dimpled, goose bumps burning my arm and chest.
“Say what?” I asked.
That hand moved around to my back, gliding down the arch of my spine and over the swell of my ass.
I shuddered. God, how he possessed me.
“Say it,” he demanded, this time his voice harder, sharper. He traced a line down the column of my neck with the tip of his tongue. I tingled. I quivered. I curled my fingers, weaving them together, clutching them behind my back.
“Say what?” I repeated, this time on a moan.
He leaned over me, hand sliding down between my trembling legs. My knees were wobbling. I couldn’t breathe. I wa
nted to crumple like a ragdoll. I wanted him to scoop me up, take me to the bed, and make the burning stop.
“I…” I mumbled. Sharp teeth bit my neck and my knees gave out. A thick arm slid under them, scooping me up and then I was bouncing across the room, landing on the bed, sprawled, looking up into eyes so dark and dangerous my muscles locked in fear.
His lip curled into a sneer. “I don’t want to want you like this. I tried to resist. But…dammit…” He shot an arm out, grabbing my hair, fisting it and jerking it, forcing my head back.
I couldn’t move. I shut down. Shock. Fear. Need. I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t do anything but sit there waiting for his next move. My scalp burned, but I didn’t cry out. That pain was nothing compared to the agony pounding through the rest of my body.
Pain so good.
So, good but not enough. I wanted more. I needed more. A lot more.
Oh, God. He’d succeeded. Without even realizing it.
He’d created a new addict.
I didn’t want to run from the darkness anymore. I wanted to relish in it. I wanted it to become a part of me.
ABOUT TAWNY TAYLOR
An Amazon Top 20 "Most Popular Author", New York Times, and USA Today Bestseller
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Taylor has been writing romance for ten years. Her first novel, Tempting Fate, was published in 2004 and was an RT Reviewer's Choice nominee and highly reviewed book. To date, Tawny has over 50 published books by 5 publishers, including Pocket, Kensington, Ellora's Cave, Samhain and Changeling Press. They include several subgenres of romance including paranormal, contemporary, New Adult and romantic suspense. Among her best selling books are Dark Master, Decadent Master, and My Alpha Billionaire.
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 fiction for women for many years to come.
Tawny loves hearing from readers! Drop her a note anytime:[email protected].