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Make Me Shiver
Make Me #1 Series

 

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When Lacey loses control of her vehicle and finds herself trapped by ice and snow, she knows there's only one person to call for help. Unfortunately, Michael may cause more turmoil than relief. She's lusted for the gorgeous Dom ever since she first laid eyes on him. Trouble is, he doesn't do vanilla and she's not a submissive…or is she?

Michael's hungered for Lacey for months, so when he notices her fleeting glimpses and blush-stained cheeks as he rescues her from an altercation with a guardrail, he decides it's time to push the sultry beauty's boundaries…only to discover Lacey's not as reserved as she thinks.

Physical attraction blossoms into something neither anticipates, taking Michael and Lacey beyond kink, dominance, and submission. Their newfound connection is strong until a flame from Michael's past returns, shatters the fragile trust he and Lacey have only just developed and threatens to destroy something neither wants to surrender.

This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable.

Excerpt

He took a step toward her, then another, then another. When he stopped he reached out, cupped her chin, and forced her to meet his level stare. “If you decide to go down to the basement, make sure you leave the door open behind you. There’s a security lock that activates the moment it closes and you won’t be able to get out.” He swept his thumb along her lower lip and a tendril of excitement created flutters in her belly. “Understand?”

“Uh-huh,” she breathed, wishing like hell he’d end her suffering and allow her to learn what he tasted like by closing the distance and kissing her long and hard.

The loss of his presence was gut-wrenching. She felt her stomach fold in on itself as he let her go, turned on his heel, and walked away. She stood there as his heavy footsteps indicated he was going upstairs, staring down the hallway until the rush of water through pipes overhead indicated he was taking a shower.

Dear Heavenly Father.

Right now he was naked and climbing into steamy water. She imagined she was a bar of soap, drifting over his abdomen, outlining the indentions of his six-pack, drifting into the flaxen hair below…

Snapping out of her daze, she placed her purse on the floor, removed her coat and placed it alongside his. She walked down the hallway. Directly in front of her was a large set of stairs leading to the second floor. To the right was an open door. A pool table and television were visible from where she stood. To the left was a sizeable kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a large center island and stools placed discreetly beneath. His home was immaculately clean and notably masculine, with brown and black fabrics throughout.

It figured. Scott was a total slob without a maid to pick up the shit he left tossed around. Michael, who worked long hours and did his own laundry, didn’t so much as have a dirty sock or wrinkled towel in sight.

Walking into the kitchen, she peered into the formal dining room, which had an expensive dark wood table and matching chairs. The crystal bowl situated in the center of the silken runner was stocked with bananas and red apples.

Good lord. Who would have thought Michael had this kind of money?

Eventually she wandered into the entertainment room. The large pool table took up the center of the area and intricate stained glass fixtures were situated directly above it. The large plasma television was affixed to the wall in front of a huge black leather couch. To the left of the room was an open door with stairs going down.

The entrance to the basement.

She walked over and studied the numerical pad above the knob. Excitement and curiosity warred with nervousness and uncertainty. What would he possibly have down there that would necessitate having a lock on the door?

“You know exactly what’s down there,” she muttered.

The way Michael looked at her when he warned not to shut the door behind her told her all she needed to know. No doubt his playroom was down there. The place he brought women to satisfy his dominant urges. Would it be like the ones she’d seen surfing the ‘net? A dark, clinical-looking place? Or would it be warm and inviting, setting up some kind of a scene?

Temptation and inquisitiveness combined, battling for control over her sense of logic. Everything was so clean and tidy upstairs; surely it was the same below. How far did he take his sexual games? Was it a casual thing he did with a consenting partner from time to time? Or was the space special to him? Listening for the sounds of the shower, she glanced at the ceiling. She had plenty of time to rush downstairs, take a peek to satisfy her curiosity and hurry back before he noticed. If she was quick enough about it, she could come back upstairs, pour a glass of wine and pretend she’d been waiting for him in the kitchen the entire time.

He never had to know.

She quietly tiptoed down the first set of stairs and took a right onto a shorter set. The cooler temperature struck her first, shocking her slightly. As she lifted her head and gazed into the large and open room, it took her a moment to properly compute what her eyes were seeing.

The walls were painted in a soft, muted cream, while the floor was a darker stained wood. All along the left wall, dangling from hooks, were floggers, whips and straps of various lengths. On a shelf just above them were dildos and plugs in an assortment of colors. Some looked like hers, while others flared oddly at the bottom or had an extension near the base that expanded upward. A bench made of wood and what appeared to be cushioned black leather was against the far wall, next to a large four poster bed. A giant St. Andrew’s cross was bolted into the floor and ceiling on the right, the polished wrist and ankle restraints shining brightly in the space.

Directly in the center of the room was a large table with leather straps; the metal mechanical device beneath indicating it could be moved and shifted. Right above it was a huge mirror giving a full view of the table and room below.

She expected to feel shock or fear. Instead warmth spread throughout her body as she walked around the room. Starting at the left, she studied the floggers and devices on the shelves, slowly worked her way to the bed with the clean linens and matching pillows and finally made her way to the cross.

For a moment she imagined what it would be like to be naked inside the chilly room, the crisp air caressing her skin, whispering against her peaked nipples as her knees ached from the unyielding hardness of the wood flooring. She closed her eyes and pictured Michael standing above her, gloriously naked, his cock long, hard and ready. He’d tell her what he wanted, and she’d give it to him. There wouldn’t be fast foreplay followed by unsatisfying sex that lasted less than five minutes. Instead she would give, Michael would take and they’d spend hours exploring and tending to each other’s pleasure.

Her body hummed, going hot and tingly as images of him sliding that unrelenting velvet steel between her lips caused her to shiver. Would he order her to stay still? To keep her hands at her sides? Fuck her mouth instead of allowing her to pleasure him? Several of the stories that turned her on involved just that, and envisioning Michael doing so made her skin prickle in anticipation as her sex tightened.

As she opened her eyes, she stepped toward the table in the center of the room. She touched the red leather, the pads of her fingers skimming across the smooth and unmarred surface. It was firm enough to be uncomfortable, yet cushioned so that it could be utilized for a lengthy stretch of time. She wondered exactly how it was used, since it was long enough to rest her entire body on and high enough to be bent over. Leaning against it, she pressed her pelvis into the wood and rocked her hips.

This place was so unlike what she imagined. It wasn’t dirty or raunchy but was more of a lover’s haven where you could play out your wildest fantasies. The décor was tasteful, the colors creating a feeling of security.

Michael’s arm wound around her waist and, although she gasped, it was due to surprise rather than shock. It had dawned on her shortly after she came down the stairs that the walls were probably soundproofed, making the noises of the shower impossible to hear. Deep down she knew a wild, shameless and uninhibited part of her wanted him to find her here, was curious as to what he would say or do.

She trembled when his lips brushed the outer shell of her ear, quivered as his breath caressed her skin. His voice was husky and deep, the sound that of sheer sexual enticement. “I have two questions, angel.”

“O-Okay,” she stammered, finding it challenging to breathe with him so close, his nearness effectively trapping her in place.

“Why did you run that night at Haddie’s?”

It was a fair question but still had the power to mortify her. She’d been foolish listening to Candice, treating Michael like some kind of sexual pervert only to discover through her own exploration and research that the notion of submitting to him captivated and excited her. Hell, it was a part of the reason she’d accepted Scott’s interest in her in the first place, in a pretense of attempting to be normal.

Normal. Now that was pathetic in hindsight. Who was normal anyway?

“Candice told me about…she said that…”

“Go on.” He nuzzled her neck, making it difficult to think clearly. “Tell me.”

“When I found out about the BDSM stuff—” She tried to put her thoughts in order but it wasn’t easy with the inescapable presence of the man behind her. “I was shocked and confused. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel, so I left.”

“Good girl. Now for my second question.”

She nodded, knees weak, heart racing. His mouth made solid contact with her earlobe, his lips gently pressing along the surface, sending ripples of heat to her pussy. He nipped at her ear and soothed the diminutive sting with flicks of his tongue, causing her to moan.

“Do you want to run now?”