Hot and Filthy – Book 4.5 of The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series
Sex, Heat, and Hunger Part 1 = FREE
Sex, Heat, and Hunger Part 2 = ON SALE $for 1.99
Hot and Filthy = $0.99
Emma Everly didn’t know true love or happiness until she met enigmatic millionaire James Shaw. He turned her world upside down, all for the better, possessing her heart, body, and soul. He brought her over to the dark and dirty side and opened her eyes to the wild and kinky sex Emma didn’t even know she craved.
Now they’re married and ready to start their life together, and Emma realizes all her dreams are coming true. With a romantic honeymoon planned on a live-aboard boat in French Polynesia with nothing but her handsome husband and the fishes, Emma is positive James will take her body to newer and more extreme heights of pleasure. But James has other ideas, and even in the middle of their sexy sea adventure, their relationship is put to the test. Emma must find a way to come to terms with James’ demands or risk ruining their first holiday as husband and wife.
A quick and funny story with nothing but sex, scuba diving, and newlywed bickering. Because these two deserve a chill honeymoon. As I’ve started telling people, it’s nothing but pure filth with the odd parrot fish sighting. Don’t expect the darkness and angst of the other books; this little story is meant to be light, fun, super dirty and give you all the happy feels.
***Warning! This book contains scenes with explicit sexual content, vulgar language and BDSM play***
“Well, Mrs. Shaw … God, I’m never going to grow tired of calling you that, you know that, right?” James growled, pulling me onto his lap in the back of the limo.
He nuzzled my neck while his hand made its way up my shirt, and he started pulling on the cup of my bra. I squeaked and squirmed when he tweaked the hard and achy bud, loving the bite of pain and the zing of need it sent to my core.
“Shall we consummate the marriage here and now? Or can you wait until we board the jet?”
I chuckled low and let my hand drift to the front of his shorts, unzipping him and worming my fingers in until I felt the hard column of flesh I just couldn’t get enough of.
“It’s not that long of a drive to the airport,” I purred. “And I certainly hope the consummation will take more than five minutes. So …” I dropped to my knees. “Let’s just do this until we get to the jet, where there is a big, beautiful bed, and you can fuck your new wife properly.” And then I pulled down his shorts, dipped my head low and took him into my mouth.
His fingers found their way into my hair, and he pulled on my scalp, setting the pace he wanted, hard and fast, just like our love. I’d loved this man almost instantly, craved him from our first kiss. He was my addiction, and I hungered for him constantly. There was no rehab or detox program in the world that could kick me of my James habit, not that I wanted one. The man was my everything, and now, finally, after almost two and a half years together, he was my husband. We’d been through hell and back both on our own and together. Fought past demons and weathered storms no couple or person should ever have to face. He’d torn down his walls for me. Let me inside, revealed his true self and the heavy weight and guilt he carried around on those impossibly broad shoulders of his. But now that guilt, those problems weren’t just his. We were in this together and even though I knew James would never truly forgive himself or let go entirely of his haunting past, at least now I could help carry the weight. Relieve him of the burden just a bit, and be there to rub out the knots and tired muscles at the end of the day.
“God, Emma … that fucking mouth …” he groaned, bucking his hips up off the leather of the seat. “Yes, you filthy girl. Suck it hard.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I took him to the back of my throat, my fist rhythmically pumping him root to tip; I loved the effect I had on him, loved how easily I could bring him to his knees while I pleasured him on mine. He was a bossy fucker, incapable of submitting, but when he was in my mouth, he was completely at my mercy. I could ask him for anything, and he’d never say “no.” Not that I asked for much, and not that he’d ever denied me. But when I was on my knees, the man was under my spell, and I was in control as much as he liked to think he was.
I flattened out my tongue and grazed the entire surface area up his shaft, feeling the thick roping veins and the silky, soft crown. He was perfect. Designed by the gods. Tall and muscular with a strong, chiseled jaw and dark, luscious, wavy hair that tumbled just over his forehead and ears. Not too long and unruly, but just roguish enough. I loved nothing more than burying my fingers in it, and pulling on the ends, especially when his head was bobbing up and down between my legs.
I snaked my other hand beneath him and cupped his balls, gently pulling and rolling them in my palm until I earned that extra moan I coveted, the moan that told me he loved it and he wanted more. The moan that told me he was getting close, barely holding on, pacing that narrow edge and about to tip over.
His cadence picked up, and he started to jerk on my head, really forcing me down hard onto his cock, until it knocked my tonsils and I fought to suppress my gag reflex. And fuck if I didn’t love it. I loved that I could drive him wild.
I sucked hard on the crown when I brought him back to my lips, flicking the tip, the small hole at the top with my tongue, wedging it in just enough to earn another moan, before I plunged him back to my throat again. In and out I fucked him with my mouth until his rhythm started to falter and I knew he was close.
I swallowed when he bottomed out in my throat again, knowing that the contraction of my muscles might just kick him over the cliff. I pulled down slightly on his balls with my one hand, and down on his shaft with the other, hummed slightly and deep throated as much as I could, swallowing again. And damn if that didn’t do the trick.
He snarled above me as his fingers loosened their death grip in my hair, his cock pulsing inside my mouth, filling me with his warm, salty semen. I swallowed again, letting it flow across my tongue and down my throat, reveling in his canticle of pleasure.
I licked him clean and then gently tucked him back into his shorts, taking great care not to snag him in his zipper. Then big, strong hands came up under my arms, and I was hauled off the floor and thrown onto my back on the cool leather. Growling low and deep in his throat, he pinned me beneath him, his mouth capturing mine.
He groaned against my lips as his fingers found a nipple again. “Oh, Mrs. Shaw. I’m not sure I can wait until the plane to fuck you.”
Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 1
Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 2
About the Author
A West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart and together they have a spirited toddler and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role playing, these books have everything we need to satisfy the curious kink in all of us.
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