Dark Tales Diaries, 3
For thirteen years, Tristan Blackthorn has
searched for his lost love, Keira. Has the time for their reunion finally come?
When the ball-busting Patrice Wyngate figures
out she's not happy, she does what she does best—takes control. Yet hearing,
"Dance for me" completely changes her life, and nothing will be the
same again.
For Zoe Harper, there would be no more
dieting. The plain truth of the matter was, her no-good cheating boyfriend
could kiss her size fourteen ass. Because quite simply, she found a man who was
happy to show her Big Girls Do It Better.
Hadley Cooper, Eric Williams, and Jude
Jamison had been best friends forever. Yet, at some point, their time living
together would end, each of them finding "the one." Only, Eric and
Jude had other thoughts. They intended to make Hadley understand—Three's Not a
Crowd.
Be Warned: ménage sex (MFM), BDSM, floggers,
spanking
Buy Links:
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/dark-tales-diaries-volume-three-by-london-saint-james/
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27259379-dark-tales-diaries
General Excerpt:
Everyone knows heartache. This seems a harsh
statement, yet it is the one fundamental truth all of us have in common. We may
allow religious beliefs to separate us. Fall behind the dividing wall of the
social classes. Have varying shades to our skin. Maintain different political
views or sexual orientations. We may see the world through diverse eyes and
hail from dissimilar backgrounds. However, the one thing each and every single
one of us comes to understand-to live is to know pain. There's no escaping.
Whether we know the sorrow and grief of losing someone we loved dearly, the
disappointments of deceit and lies, or the devastation of a broken heart, all
of us, no matter who we are, will eventually become acquainted with heartache.
The question then becomes; what do we do to survive?
-Tristan
I placed my favorite Mont Blanc pen atop my
scribbled thoughts, and stared out the office window. The setting sun backlit
the city skyline in a splash of burnt umber. In just a few hours I'd be donning
my Armani tuxedo and joining my audacious sister, as well my mother who flew in
from France, in order to co-host the gala marking a milestone for the company
Adelle and I run. The company my late father started forty years ago. But
here's the thing. While most of the New York publishing world will be in
attendance, armed with their celebratory faces and platitudes of well wishes,
I'll be there going through the motions-forced to appear happy.
With a heavy sigh, I rolled my leather chair
back from the desk. I wasn't in the mood to celebrate. Quite the opposite in
fact. After the call I received earlier today from my P.I., informing me the
lead on Keira's whereabouts was another dead end, all I really wanted to do was
settle into my penthouse to read some of the newest submissions to Dark Tales
Diaries, and drink single malt scotch until the words blurred upon the pages.
This seemed the more appropriate thing to do since the date on the calendar
also marked another occasion-thirteen years to the day since I last saw Keira.
I could still remember the facets sparkling
in her aquamarine eyes. They were eyes so deep I could get lost within the
depths of them. So sharp, they slayed me. So soft, they comforted me. Trust me
when I say, I'm well aware thirteen years is a long time to be apart.
Nonetheless, it seems only yesterday I was basking in her happy laughter.
Tasted the sweetness of her lips. Felt her delicate body pressed firmly against
mine. Heard her soft voice whispering naughty notions in my ear, and felt her
warm breath gust across my skin. Yet, in other ways, every single minute of
every single day of my unwanted separation from Keira has eroded at me like a
slow drip of acid.
Squeezing the back of my tense neck, I
wondered if perhaps I should listen to Wade, and call off any further
investigation into Keira's disappearance. After all this time, how could I not
consider it? Maybe my sister, Adelle, was right when she said Keira didn't want
to be found and I needed to let my obsession go. Could I do that? Did I even
want to give up? Or was I doomed to endlessly search for answers and an
unobtainable dream?
Almost absentmindedly, I ran my fingers over
the stack of mail which contained the words of so many, and plucked a pink
envelope from the pile. I read the return address. Seattle, WA.
"Are you in there, Keira?"
Shaking my head, I sat the letter aside. I
knew the truth. Regardless if I found the girl turned woman amongst the erotic
tales of others or not, it didn't really matter. Simply because, what I was
doing now, what I'd started with Dark Tales Diaries, was so much more than a
possible means to finding her. It was my way of dealing with the loss-my way to
survive.
Adult Excerpt from Dance for Me:
"Take off the dress."
I swallowed hard, reached for the side zip,
and pulled the tab down. Next, I slipped my right arm free of the ruffle over
my shoulder, allowing the soft material to fall, and stepped out of the dress.
Heat infused my cheeks, because standing in front of a man and removing my
clothes seemed bolder than I really was. Nonetheless, I walked in nothing but
my panties and high heels over to where most of Damon's clothing was, putting
my dress there, too.
"Goddamn." The way he said this
sounded less a curse and more of awed praise for me. "Leave the panties
and the heels on."
"All right."
When I turned around, Damon held out a hand
for me. I noticed he was sporting an impressive bulge beneath his suit pants,
which made me smile.
I walked to him and took hold of his
outstretched hand.
"Give me your other hand, too." I
did, and he cuffed my wrists together. The inside of the cuffs were lined with
what felt like wool-soft against my skin. "I'm going to attach these to
that chain," he said, briefly glancing up overhead. Without wasting
another moment, Damon checked the cuffs by running his fingertip along the top
and bottom of them where the leather edge met skin, before he did what he'd
said, securing my arms up over my head. I wasn't sure what he did behind me, I
couldn't really see, but the chain attached to the cuffs rose, stretching my
arms, and lifted me until my body was taut. However, my feet were still on the
ground. "Good?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
Warm
hands slid down my extended arms, shoulders, and followed the contour of my
spine in a sensual glide that had me going instantly wet.
Damon walked around me, keeping his hands on
my skin. In fact, he caressed me everywhere, from my ankles and calves, to my
thighs, hips, and belly. I whimpered when he used his thumbs to swipe over my
nipples and I closed my eyes as he worshiped my body with his touch.
Adored. This is what it felt like to finally
be adored by a man.
"Perfection," he said near my ear,
squeezing my ass. He pressed his bare chest into my bare back, fitting his hard
package into my backside where his hands had been a moment earlier.
"Spread those sexy legs apart for me a little bit." After I complied,
Damon's strong arm came around my waist-hand resting on my lower belly, fingers
splayed. "Tilt your head to the right."
As soon as I tipped my head to the side, his
mouth nuzzled into my neck, follow by his tongue licking a path up to my ear.
Heat curled low in my belly. When he took my fleshy lobe and sucked, his
fingers dipped past the waistband of my tiny panties, slipped over my
waxed-bare mound, and burrowed between my lower lips.
Bull's-eye.
"Ooh…," I moaned when a long finger
dipped into my tight opening.
"So nice and wet," he murmured. He
brought his slick digit up, and circled my clit. "Let go, angel. Surrender
and just feel."
With one of his big hands palming my left
breast, fingers playing with my erect nipple, the other hand down the front of
my panties toying with my clit, and the front of his hard body pressed against
my back, I had no problem giving myself over to his sexpertise, completely.
My hips moved, ass bumping against his
crotch. My body shivered and shook. Need coiled around me and my sex pulsed.
"Oh God." That fast he was going to
make me come and come hard.
"That's it," he said, voice low and
guttural. "Come for me."
I detonated. Starbursts went off behind my
closed eyelids. I moaned, and my arms pulled at my restraints, fingers curling
into my palms.
I'm not sure how long I floated in the
aftershocks of bliss, but I came to my senses when his hands slipped free of me
and I felt him move.
Turning my head, I saw him grab a flogger
from the wall and come back. Two seconds later, he yanked my panties down. They
hit my feet.
"Press your sweet ass out for me."
A moment after that, Damon swung the flogger
in quick circular motions, tapping my bare ass, then down to the backs of my
thighs, moving up to my ass once again. Little whips of sensation added to the orgasm
I just had, and started building toward something I'd never felt before but
always suspected I wanted-a bite of pain. Though, what he was doing wasn't
pain. Not yet.
The supple leather tails of the flogger
rained down on my shoulder blades and upper back. I squirmed. He worked me,
over and over, gradually increasing the power behind the blows. But when the
tails smacked against my butt once more, this time, I felt it. The glorious
sting. I moaned, and pressed my bottom toward him in a needy offering for more.
I heard him speak four simple words.
"Dance for me, angel."
I danced-twisting and writhing, going up on
my tiptoes, arms stretched above my head as he worked my flesh over.
This is what I'd been missing. What I needed.
I fell into this type of zoned-out space-my body no longer tethered. I floated.
When I heard something drop, I came back to
the grind of a zipper and the sounds of my own breaths.
Damon latched onto my hips-fingers biting
deliciously into my flesh, and entered my sopping wet sex from behind in one,
powerful thrust, filling and stretching me completely.
"Fuck," he muttered.
I felt his teeth bite into my upper arm.
"Aah, yes!"
I came-pussy convulsing around his hard cock.
He took me without mercy, lifting me up off
my feet, and fucking himself with my body. I was his, unable to do anything but
enjoy the ride he was giving me. And it was a ride. Long, hard, and unyielding.
About London
London Saint James is an award-winning,
bestselling author. She lives in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee
with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them. You can find out
more about London and her work on her website, www.londonsaintjames.com, her blog
at http://londonsj.blogspot.com, or
follow her on Twitter @LSJRomance.
Would you like to know more? Join London's
mailing list for her monthly newsletter http://eepurl.com/6P2on.
Or, join her book group on Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with London https://www.facebook.com/groups/SlipBetweenthePageswithLondon/
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