Welcome to the Madly In Lust Blog Event. Today we’re featuring a seductive scene from Lynn Cooper’s romance, Blackthorne. Enjoy the ride!
If I was as smart as the records at Bennington All-Girls Private School say I am, I would go off to college, get a degree and meet a nice, young, scholarly man. A safe, low-key man who would love me and give me children. A man who isn’t wild, edgy and dark. A man who isn’t way older than me, who isn’t more dangerous, powerful and exciting than he should be. A man who isn’t a gun-for-hire. I guess it’s true what they say: good girls are drawn to bad boys. And they don’t come any more badass than Carson Tanner Blackthorne.
First order of business: put as much distance between me and Paisley Lang Meadows as possible. She’s a good girl, sweet and innocent. The kind of woman a man like me could corrupt with a single touch. No matter how strong the attraction is between us, she and I are not happening. I’m no good for her. She peers up at me with those big brown eyes, and I know she sees me as a hero—her savior—but she deserves better than a paid killer. I would give anything to bury myself in her heat and purity. Between her thighs there’s redemption. I can feel it. But I refuse to sacrifice Paisley in order to save myself.
Blackthorne is an emotionally-intense, standalone romance that is not intended for the faint of heart. It’s a rollercoaster of desire and danger, lust and love, passion and protection. It will warm your soul, curl your toes and leave you breathless. Enjoy the ride.
Opening the mini-fridge, I pull out a bottle of champagne and two perfectly-chilled glasses. I pour them half full and hand her one. She frowns but takes the fluted glass. Before bringing it to her cute, pouty mouth, she says, “You’re not slipping me a Ruffie, are you?”
I shake my head and chuckle. “No, Little Lamb. I want you good and alert for what’s in store.”
She takes a long sip. I imagine it’s for courage as much as thirst.
“And just what is that, Mr.—I mean, Carson?”
Without answering her, I take her glass and set it on the nightstand alongside mine. I can’t take my eyes off her. Her body was made for caressing, touching. For my touch. Her once tiny nubbins have blossomed into bountiful breasts I’m dying to fill my hands and mouth with. To bury my face in.
Her hips call out for a vise-like grip, for my fingertips to dig in them while I take her from behind. And God help me, but the damp, dark, triangle of curls ghosted against the nearly-translucent fabric of that damn tunic is driving me mad. I can’t wait to tangle my fingers in her bush and smooth it back to reveal the wet heat of her womanhood. Unable to hold myself in check a moment longer,
I grab the hem and rip it clear to the neckline. The torn pieces fall to either side of her torso, revealing the creamy, flawless skin of youth. Paisley gasps and scurries up the mattress, pressing herself hard against the headboard like a frightened mouse.
“Come now,” I say, sitting down beside her. “Am I to believe a sassy, grown-ass woman who purposely foregoes a bra and panties is really as bashful as all this?”
“You really are a lousy liar,” I say, grabbing her by the ankles and jerking her back down the mattress.
Her whole body quivers in expectation, and her voice becomes so low and small I can barely hear her. “Are you going to fuck me now?” she asks, biting her lower lip. The sight of it caught between her teeth makes me want to nip it with my own.
“No. I’m going to taste you,” I say, leaning over her.
“Where?” She’s whimpering now.
Placing a finger beneath her delicate chin, I tilt her face up. “Here,” I growl before covering her mouth with mine. She tastes like sweet peaches and fizzy champagne. I can feel her perfect, pink nipples pebbling against my chest as I kiss her soft and easy, hot and deep. She opens her lips to my probing tongue.
Her warm, breathless sighs are a sign of submission passing from her mouth to mine, and I eagerly swallow them down. Even knowing I have to send her away doesn’t mute my need for her acceptance. She has to want what I do to her, or it’s no good. My tongue surges against hers then I grasp her lower lip between my teeth one final time before nibbling her neck.
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