Zane Risso, a Dominant unyielding in his desires, is haunted by the one woman he wants and can’t have, vanilla goodie-two-shoes
Raquel Hawkins. He knows the only way to flush her from his system is to seduce her and move on, because surrendering the kink club addiction he enjoys is not a demand he'll accept. From any woman.
Raquel Hawkins has never known temptation like the blue-eyed Italian god who seems fond of whispering naughty things in her ear during office hours. He’s bad news—sin personified—and although she continues to deny him, her body’s responses to his sensual words just might buy her a one-way ticket to hell.
From their first kiss, Zane’s determination to overcome her Pollyanna principles threatens his lifestyle. For Raquel, giving into temptation would doubtless leave her heart a shredded mess—and unlock sordid secrets best left in the dark.
Direct to Lynn’s title page: http://www.authorlynnburke.com/tempered-by-her.html
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/tempered-by-her-by-lynn-burke/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tempered-lynn-burke/1123022724?ean=2940152481815
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27844430-tempered-by-her?from_search=true&search_version=service
I found Raquel kneeling in the center of my bed, hands on her lap, head bowed, her high heels placed side by side on the floor at the bed’s foot. She hadn’t obeyed my first command, but fuck me, I didn’t give a shit.
I’d planned on taking her over my knee and reddening every inch of her ass and thighs, but seeing her in such a submissive pose in the middle of my bed had me drooling for a taste.
“Take off your blouse.”
She started at my voice, but lifted shaking hands to do as told. With each button slipped free, my arousal returned, and the blue silk sliding off her bare shoulders and revealing a see-through white lace bra and puckered rosy nipples brought a groan to my lips.
“Lay back.” I strode forward as she straightened her legs and complied, the sounds of her quickened breaths heating my blood.
Fuckin’ Raquel Hawkins, sweet innocent, was on my bed, the darkness beneath her knee-length skirt sending my saliva glands into hyper-drive. I slipped leather ties around her wrists and tied her tight to my headboard. She chewed on her lower lip, chest rising and falling enough to make me think she might call out her safe word, but she kept silent.
I kicked off my shoes and climbed onto the bed, pushing up her pencil skirt with agonizing slowness over nylon-clad legs while settling on my haunches between them.
Thigh highs. I swallowed. Fuckin’A.
A sweep of my thumbs from inner to outer thighs, and she lifted her ass, allowing me to push the skirt to her waist. So much for my assumption about granny panties. White lace matching her bra and a scrap of silk hid her virgin curls from me. I leaned down, breathing in the sweet, musky scent of her arousal. “I’m going to taste you, Raquel.”
She gasped, her hands flexing in their restraints.
“You’re not allowed to come until I tell you to.”
I reached up and pinched her nipple, earning another gasp, a groan of pleasure on its heels as she writhed on the bed. “The proper response would be, yes, Sir.”
She licked her lips again and whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir, what?”
“I won’t come until you tell me to.”
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Her current work, the Risso Familly Novellas, revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.