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Excerpt

“Bonjour. Damn, you sure are gorgeous,” he whispers in appreciation. Then he pushes my bag a few inches further away with his right foot, moving it out of reach of my desperate hand. His gaze becomes hungry, scanning my pained face.

“Please-” I croak. “I--I,” In a frantic effort, I try to focus only on my breathing, trying to control it. But it’s no use. My body begins to tremble uncontrollably and my raspy breath is the only sound in the room. He takes the inhaler from my bag and kneels down in front of me. He supports my neck firmly with one hand, while another finger traces the seam of my lips lazily.

“So beautiful,” he hums. “Is this what you want?”

I nod desperately, tears welling up in my eyes. “Pl-please.” He smiles lightly and holds the inhaler to my mouth. I inhale my medicine through the puffer and it works almost immediately. The airways widen and breathing resumes with slow and deep gulps. He replaces the inhaler with his fingers as he slowly brushes them against my mouth, teasing the outline of my lips, his intense gaze watching me come to my senses again.

Although my breathing is now back to normal, the numb feeling doesn’t go away. Neither does this inexplicable feeling of sexual arousal. I gulp and watch as he places himself between my thighs and slowly slides both hands over the chains, reminding me that I’m his captive. The soft touch torments my skin, leaving a tingle as he traces the outline of my bare feet. Who took my shoes off?

He moves further up, dipping the tips of his fingers beneath the dark fabric and taunts the sensitive flesh of my belly before halting on my breasts. When he slowly starts to unbutton my dress, I have to fight back a gasp. What the hell? And with every unfastened button, his fingertips tease my burning skin.

“W-what are you… where am I? Where’s Wyatt?”

Wyatt. That’s right, we shared coffee on the train, coming into the city. Had I even made it to Greenwich Village? The memory’s a blur. Or has he brought me here and is this all part of some master crime? In a combination of panic and treacherous excitement, I watch his full lips curl into a smile, unfolding a set of regular, white teeth. “Wyatt, such a gentleman. We refer to him as Big. He actually brought you here as a gift. My gift."

“Gift?” I hear myself slowly repeating and my body shudders at the thought.

‘Yeah, surprise. You.’ His voice is barely a whisper. Then he presses his lips onto mine. I try to pull away, but my body feels like a wax doll, unmanageable and unwieldy. And when I open my mouth to protest, only a rasping sound comes out. My defence is a disgrace.  “Ssshhh.” He puts a finger to my lips and gives me an unexpected smile before he attacks my mouth again. It’s hot and demanding and I don’t stand a chance. He hums when I open my mouth and his tongue slowly invades the tight heat, licking lazily around. Sparkles of pleasure surprise me. I yank at the chains because it’s the only thing I can think of in an attempt to regain my senses. This is wrong.

He chuckles softly, a sexy rumble that vibrates through my core and makes me weak. We both know that I’m not going anywhere. His long fingers press around my neck and he keeps them there for a while as his mouth continues to lavish mine. I’m not sure about him, I’m not sure about anything. There’s something so dangerous about him.

His fingers trace the curves between my neck and collarbone. He brings his lips down, tasting the skin with his tongue, making a wet line to my earlobe before gently taking it between his teeth. His fingers dart down to my covered breasts and I gasp in surprise. Though I’m technically no longer a virgin, it’s safe to say that no one’s ever touched me like this. His hands send shivers of electric jolts that give me goosebumps. Which is messed up, since I’m chained up against his wall. What’s going on with me?

“Hm, you like that," he purrs.

“No,” I lie, biting back a moan. Heat creeps up my neck. “Who are you?”

He pulls his lips back and keeps his face close to mine. I can only stare, hypnotised as the beautiful, lush lips curve in a sly grin while his hands keep on massaging the lines of my breasts in lazy circles.

“Hm,” he hums and the sound goes straight down between my legs, causing a familiar warm feeling of shame and some other, foreign sensation. It’s strange to feel so very dazed, while all my senses are on full alert. And still his fingers do little more than tease my flushed skin, before they gently pinch my nipples. I gasp and feel a shock of desire run through me.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you, baby. Not today.”

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About the Author

Lola Malone writes dark romance starring dominant, dirty-talking men and socially awkward and feisty women.

She currently lives in Europe, but at one time or another, has lived all over the world. 

When she’s not with her four boys, you can find her writing while consuming lots of wine, ahum…coffee.

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