“This series grips you by the throat and refuses to let go—and you’ll be begging for more the entire time.” — Sierra Simone, USA Today Bestselling Author
"𝑼𝒏𝒛𝒊𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕."
You married a decent man.
A rock solid, arrogant war hero who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. He wanted you, and you gave yourself to him.
You are his only desire--the only woman in his orbit--but the intensity of that desire is turning dangerous.
Love may be the death of both of you.
NY Times Bestselling author CD Reiss brings dark intensity to a couple so in love, they'll make the darkest of sacrifices to save each other.
You married a decent man.
A rock solid, arrogant war hero who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. He wanted you, and you gave yourself to him.
You are his only desire--the only woman in his orbit--but the intensity of that desire is turning dangerous.
Love may be the death of both of you.
NY Times Bestselling author CD Reiss brings dark intensity to a couple so in love, they'll make the darkest of sacrifices to save each other.
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Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2vhJ68W
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GCc8ke
Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/RoughEdge
Print: https://amzn.to/2IAMfHk
iBooks: https://apple.co/2Gn6eDW
Nook: https://bit.ly/2J4nShw
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2GgCLeX
Google Play: https://bit.ly/2pQwIHf
Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2vhJ68W
In the dark, during the fundraising video, she leaned into me, taking my hand. “What’s going on?” “Nothing.” “Caden.” My name was more than a statement. It was a comment on how well she knew the animal, and how well she loved it. If eyes could listen, hers did, gazing at me in the darkness. I couldn’t lie to her for much longer. The entire invite list was watching the video. The bar was empty. The hallway lights were dimmed. The kitchen staff moved constantly and quietly to set up the buffet. I laced my fingers in hers. She had a gold band we’d gotten out of expediency. No big sparkling rock. No sign I’d ever courted her properly before marrying her. My father always said a man didn’t skip steps if he wanted to do something once. I slid my cheek to hers and whispered in her ear, “I want to destroy you.” Her hand tightened in mine so tightly I could feel our bones. Her glands must have fired, because the apples and the perfume melded and became something so uniquely her my balls ached—but not for simple release. For something more. An agreement of ownership. Waiting wasn’t an option. Pulling her by the hand, I headed for the hallway. “Caden,” she said when we were away from the event, “slow down.” I didn’t. I couldn’t. I pulled her down the carpeted steps to the lower level, stepping over a velvet rope at the bottom. The lights were out in the hall. Three doors led to three empty event rooms. “What’s with you lately?” she asked. “Are you saying no?” “I’m asking a question.” I backed into one of the rooms and pulled her in. It was dark but for light coming from under the doorways on each side. I walked in deeper, eyes adjusting quickly enough to avoid the tables and stacks of chairs on wheeled dollies. “So am I.” I faced her. “Are you saying no?” “What are you hoping I’ll say yes to?” “I’m going to pull that dress up until I can get to these hard nipples.” I pinched them through the dress and she gasped. “Then I’ll bend you over one of these tables and fuck you so hard walking’s going to hurt. Are you saying no?” “I’m not. But I want to know what’s going on with you.” “Pull your dress up before I shred it.”
TRADUZIONE LIBERA A CURA DI ARIA'S
Nel buio, durante il video di raccolta fondi, si è chinata su di me, prendendomi la mano. "Cosa sta succedendo?"
"Niente."
"Caden."
Il mio nome era più di una dichiarazione. Era un commento su quanto
bene conoscesse l'animale, e quanto bene lo amasse. Se gli occhi
potessero ascoltare, lei lo avrebbe fatto, fissandomi nell'oscurità. Non
potevo mentirle ancora per molto. L'intero elenco degli invitati stava
guardando il video. Il bar era vuoto. Le luci del corridoio erano
offuscate. Il personale della cucina si era trasferito e in silenzio
impostava il buffet. Ho allacciato le mie dita nelle sue. Aveva una
fascia d'oro che ci era servita come espediente. Nessun pietra
scintillante. Nessun segno che l'avessi mai corteggiata correttamente
prima di sposarla. Mio padre diceva sempre che un uomo non saltava i
passi se voleva fare qualcosa. Ho fatto scivolare la mia guancia contro
la sua e le ho sussurrato all'orecchio: "Voglio distruggerti."
La
sua mano si strinse così forte che sentivo le nostre ossa. Le sue
ghiandole dovevano essere andate a fuoco, perché le mele e il profumo si
fondevano e diventando qualcosa di così unico che mi dolevano le palle,
ma non per una semplice liberazione.
Per qualcosa di più. Un accordo di proprietà.
L'attesa non era un'opzione.
Tirandola per mano, mi diressi verso il corridoio.
"Caden", disse quando fummo lontani dall'evento, "rallenta".
Non
l'ho fatto. Non potevo. La spinsi giù per i gradini coperti di moquette
fino al livello più basso, scavalcando una corda di velluto sul fondo.
Le luci erano nell'atrio. Tre porte conducevano a tre stanze per eventi,
vuote.
"Cosa c'è in te ultimamente?" Chiese.
"Stai dicendo di no?"
"Sto facendo una domanda."
Indietreggiai
in una delle stanze e la tirai dentro. Era buio, ma la luce proveniva
da sotto le porte su ciascun lato. Entrai più a fondo, con gli occhi che
si adattavano abbastanza velocemente da evitare i tavoli e le pile di
sedie sui carrelli.
"Anch'io." L'ho affrontata. "Stai dicendo di no?"
"Che cosa speri che dica sì?"
"Sto
per tirare quel vestito fino a quando riesco ad arrivare a questi
capezzoli duri." Li pizzicai attraverso il vestito e lei ansimò.
"Allora ti piegherò su uno di questi tavoli e ti fotterò così tanto che ti farà male camminare. Stai dicendo di no? "
" Non lo sono. Ma voglio sapere cosa ti sta succedendo. "
" Togliti il vestito prima che lo faccia a pezzi. "
About the Author
CD Reiss is a New York Times
bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was
buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in
the meantime, if you call and she doesn't pick up she's at the well
hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to
Hollywood, California to get her master's degree in screenwriting from
USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a
big enough ego to write novels.
She's frequently referred to as the
Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn't ever gotten her out
of chopping that cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
Connect with CD Reiss:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iwpkPQ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CDReiss.writer/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/cdreisswriter Instagram: https://instagram.com/cdreiss/ Website: www.cdreiss.com Newsletter: https://cdreiss.com/cd-reiss-mailing-list-signup/
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