Publication date: April 21st 2015
Genres: Erotica, Romance
List of Authors and Book Titles:
* Played by the Master by Opal Carew
* Jenna’s Punishment by Ruby Foxx
* Resistor by Madelynne Ellis
* Luscious by T.J. Michaels
* Her Secret by Portia Da Costa
* His Touch by Karen Fenech
* One Night With My Billionaire Master by Cynthia Sax
* Mastering the Mistress by Evangeline Anderson
* The Buyer by Saskia Walker
* XO, Blake by Avery Aster
On the heels of the wildly popular New York Times and USA Today bestseller, MASTERED, we bring you MASTERED 2, ten more tales of sensual surrender, plus a bonus short story!
“11 AMAZING NEW EROTIC ROMANCE STORIES YOU’VE NEVER READ!”
These scorching erotic romance books, plus a bonus short story, are all brand-spanking new and never-before-released, until now! One-click this anthology today at a low pre-sale price of only 99 cents. This won’t last long.
TEASERS and EXCERPTS
by the Master by Opal Carew
Race Danner stared out the window of the luxury hotel room over the lights of the city reflected in the lake below as he poured himself a drink. The other players were continuing the game behind him, but he’d stopped to take a break. He sipped the seventy-five year old scotch and sighed.
Even these poker games, that he’d arranged to break up the boredom he’d been suffering from over the past year, had stopped giving him the excitement he was seeking.
Travel, women, extreme sports. None of it gave him exactly what he was looking for.
He turned back to the game, watching the intensity in the eyes of the card players at the table.
The problem was, he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for.
But he had a feeling he’d know when he saw it.
A knock sounded at the door and Renaldo, one of the hotel serving staff overseeing the game, answered it. Race heard a young woman’s voice, then the Renaldo opened the door and she walked inside.
His breath held as he stared at her.
The little black dress—and he did mean little—and the fuck-me shoes she wore showcased her stunning body, but he could tell she wasn’t used to wearing such a revealing outfit. She carried herself with confidence, but he could read people and could sense a hesitation in her. She glanced around, as if wondering if anyone was gazing at her, but not in a look-at-me way.
Her hair was swept up and held in place by a glittery butterfly clip, which meant it was long. He liked long hair. He smiled to himself, deciding that before the night was over, he’d see her hair hanging loose and free. And he’d ensure he soon get the chance to coil her tresses around his hand and hold tight.
Renaldo was talking to her, and Race knew the man would hustle her out, since she was not one of the people on the invitation list for tonight.
Race would not let her slip through his fingers, however. He walked toward them.
“Problem, Renaldo?” Race asked.
by T.J. Michaels
Mac was an alpha to the bone. In her case, alpha didn't mean bitch...well, unless some bitchiness was required at the moment. It was simply her personality and style, and allowed her to successfully run a thriving business in a field dominated by men, and deal with emergencies with ease.
On the flip side of that coin, this man, her husband, brought out the submissive in her like literally no one else could. And when her man crossed his legs and let his vivid green gaze roam boldly from her head to her feet and back again, Mac felt sexy as hell. Blushing, she automatically bowed before him.
"Today, it's you, me and some rope. Do you consent to this, MacKenzie Chalice Daniels-Ivers?"
Oh dear lord, he called her by her whole name! That was typically reserved for when she was in trouble, or when he planned something intense. Butterflies in her gut were a thing of the past as they morphed into pterodactyls. A shiver went through her whole body and settled down between the joints in her knees. A deep breath did nothing to calm her at all. But one thing was for sure--her nerves skipped around from sheer anticipation of some serious delight.
"Well?" he asked.
"Yes, of course I consent."
"Good. Go to your play bag and get all of the red bamboo rope."
How did he know she had that in there? Before she could ask, he said, "I put it in there two nights past in place of that rough jute stuff you had bundled up inside."
One brow winged its way up her forehead as his words truly registered. And then her man gave her one of the most deliciously promising grins she'd seen on his face lately.
She smiled in return, shaking her head at herself, as understanding dawned. Landon had obviously planned this well in advance. Sure she'd seen the rope when she'd inspected her bag not fifteen minutes ago, but she always had some in there just in case. Easy knots for easy play was something she could handle. But all the ins and outs and its intricate uses were Landon's domain. And it was a domain he ruled, completely.
Once she was across the room and standing over her bag, another command came.
"Put your locs up into a bun, high on top of your head. Then remove your clothes and leave them folded neatly where you stand. You may keep those sexy ass panties on that you were sashaying around the house in this morning."
"Sashay?" she gawked.
"Absolutely. And it was a beautiful sight. Have a problem with the word, sashay?" he asked. He lowered his head and watched her through thick coal-black lashes. A smart ass comment was on the edge of her lips when he gave her the look and raised an imperious brow.
Mac blurted, "Nope. No problem at all."
ONE NIGHT WITH MY BILLIONAIRE MASTER
by Cynthia Sax
“You would never hurt me.” I know this in my soul.
“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you,” Logan makes one of his infamous vows, promises he’s been known to bend laws to keep. “You won’t regret your decision.”
We stand in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by people. I see only him, entranced by the emotion in his brown eyes, his passion, his need, and something more, something I don’t dare believe in.
“Was this my decision?” I muse. “Did I have a choice?” Or was this inevitable, our fate, our destiny?
“No, you didn’t have a choice.” Logan’s lips lift into one of his rare smiles. “Dance with me.” This is a command, not a request. He leads me onto the floor. “It’s expected.” He swings me into position, his maneuvering graceful and sure.
It is expected. In the past, he has arrived at events, sought me out for a dance, and then departed immediately after our exchange.
His focus on me means nothing. If I say this statement enough times, I might believe it. I bend my left arm, layering my limb over his. Logan clasps my right hand tightly. Our bodies come together and we move as one.
This isn’t the rigid proper waltz I learned at ballroom dance class. It is rolling and sensuous, like the undulation of muscle under skin. One, two, three. One, two, three. There’s no thinking, no talking, only feeling, reacting. Logan steps forward. I step back. He turns. I follow.
Our hips brush together, my skirt swirling around his black pants. I gaze at his sharp chin, firm lips, feeling delicate, womanly, trusting him to guide me, to keep me safe.
Logan dips me and I fall back, confident he’ll catch me. “You’re exquisite.” His eyes gleam and he draws me upright, twirls me across the floor. If dancing is a sign of companionship, we’re ideally suited. I’ve never had a partner know me like he does, reading my abilities, fulfilling my wishes.
The music fades and he sweeps me toward the edge of the dance floor. Before the song ends, he’s concealed us in the crowd. “Escort me from the room.” He covers my hand with his. “As you’ve been instructed.”
My gaze darts upward. How does he know I’ve been given that order? “I can’t climb into the limousine with you,” I murmur, aware that we’re being watched. “People will gossip.”
“People already gossip.” Logan leans into me. “They see how we dance, speculate that we fuck as passionately.” His crudeness stimulates, rather than shocks me. “They suspect your sweet pussy is filled with my cum, that my love bites decorate the curve of your ass and my scent is on your skin,” he breathes into my hair and I warm, all over. “Everyone here knows you’re mine.”
I stare at him, my thoughts obliterated by his words.
“Looking at me with your fuck-me face won’t stop the gossip.” He chuckles softly.
by Saskia Walker
As soon as the door to his apartment clicked shut Lucas closed on her, pinning her up against the wall in the hallway, caging her there with his body.
Naomi trembled. She wanted him, but he'd flagged up some pretty intense sexual preferences, and she was flying blind on that score. Apart from some playful spanking she'd never played with a real Dom before. Everything he'd said had intrigued her and turned her on, big time, but she was stepping into the unknown.
Then he locked his hand around the back of her neck, his fingers moving beneath her hair, and ducked his head, kissing her hungrily.
The kiss, at last. She'd been thinking about it all evening, wanting it and imagining it. His mouth on hers melted her doubts away, instinct taking over.
She let go her bag and it fell to the floor. Her hands locked around his head as responded to him. With his free hand he hitched up her skirt, cupping her bottom in his hands, pushing aside her lacey underwear so that he could touch her skin. She gasped at his forthright touch and her head fell back against the wall. When she did, he ducked his head to kiss her throat. His teeth grazed her throat.
"I want you so much," she murmured. She felt delirious as she said it. "Lucas, please... I really want this, but I'm a little afraid."
He drew back, pausing. "Don't be. I'm here to look after you."
She clung to him, swallowed, then nodded. There was no turning back. After she'd given way to her doubts and agreed to go home with him, she had to know what it would be like to have sex with a man like Lucas.
He looked like a big cat assessing its prey. "Tell me why you are here," he said.
"I'm here because you made me want to know what it would be like, to be alone with you."
He nodded. "Show me how much you wanted that."
Naomi's pulse raced. She wasn't sure what he meant by that.
"Strip," he added, with a quick nod at her clothing.
The command fell from his lips so easily, as if he was asking her to take a seat. But the effect it had on her was devastating. Can I do this?
It's what she'd come there for, to get intimate with him, and he was taking control of her, as promised, but she hadn’t expected that simple but stunning one-word instruction.
The answer was that she couldn’t walk away – she couldn't not do it.