|Jason JC Curtis by FuriousFotog|
Desires—a place where fantasies are made flesh and dreams become real. From BDSM to being a dog, Desires can provide it with bells on, if that’s your kink.
Stacie Clifford’s only desire is to regain her sexual confidence after her recent escape from an abusive marriage. She joins Desires looking for re-education in the joys of her body. There is only one condition; her contract states emotional attraction between tutor and student is forbidden. Stacie is fine with that; her heart is so battered she has no desire to give it to anyone else.
Then she meets her instructor, Dan. Instantly attracted, at first Stacie thinks it will help to make her sexually comfortable with him. But when she realises she is falling in love, she can’t tear herself away, contract or no. Stacie knows that, no matter how kind and caring Dan appears, he’s just doing his job. Can Stacie overcome her own Desires and walk away?
Angel makes the biggest mistake ever. She never realized how much someone meant to her until it’s too late. Angel the owner of the sex club Desires, having the club at her beckon call, nothing passes her attention without notice, the club is her passion and desire. Angel interviews Stacie Clifford a woman lacking in self-confidence and has chosen Desires to be the place to try and restore her self-esteem. Angel makes sure she had Stacie sign the club contract, stipulating ‘no emotional involvement with tutor or tutors’ delighted the woman signs. Angel pairs Stacie with Dan, Dan McVeigh a handsome, delicious, exciting and truly adorable young man. Only after placing Stacie with Dan, her heart begins crying, longing for Dan, only the man she wants has his head turned, despite what Dan tells her. Angel then tries everything in the book to scare Stacie away, will she succeed and how far will a woman scorned go?
Dan, a devious, hot, sincere young man, preys on women like a vulture. He takes up escorting before entering a world of sexual fantasy in a club called Desires, being paid to have sex. He loves being a naughty boy without conviction, even having sex with the boss, using any means to have his wicked way. Then he meets a new client, Stacie Clifford. He needs to drop the boy act and become a man, yet remember the club’s emotional contract. He makes it his responsibility to protect Stacie from Angel the boss of the club. He’s in love. He has almost everything: a wife, son and a baby on the way, ownership of Desires, yet something is missing from his life, Sapphire his daughter. Unable to move on, feeling destroyed, his marriage is uneasy. Day after day he fights his heartache, wanting to be happy and be Dan, the man he once was. Will Dan ever be complete again? What will it take to get him there?
Holly lives in the UK and is a wife mother of three, and a nana to twins. Holly J. Gill is a romance writer whose favorite genre is erotica. She has been recently published with Secret Cravings who unfortunately closed their doors in September 2015 leaving Holly with several books to find a home. Therefore Holly has taken the chance to self-publish all her works. Her books include Desires and a sweet adult series called Innocence. Holly also writes different genre’s loving the diversity she has to explore. In Holly’s spare time she loves spending time with her family, friends, listen to music, watch movies, and likes to travel around England enjoying the beautiful countryside.
Warning: Contains a lady’s maid with secret desires, a corset-maker who knows his way around a woman’s body, and an actress who never has to fake it. Rated for adult audiences only.Love would be simpler if it came with a script.
Marguerite Ceniza dies on the London stage each night, but her own life has barely begun. The ingénue is on the prowl for a lover, but while she burns with desire for Sophie, a confession could ruin their decade-long friendship. In the meantime there are always men vying to be her patron, and square-jawed, broad-shouldered James Glover can’t help but catch her eye.
Sophie Armand has been a lady’s maid for too long, and she’s sick of keeping secrets. Her hidden scripts and the story of her birth are only the beginning. Her nights are haunted by desperate thoughts of the beguiling Marguerite, and of James, the handsome tradesman who whispers promises of forever into her ear.
James has the kind of problem a lot of men would kill for—two women, both beautiful, both sensual, and both willing. Sophie wants marriage, while Marguerite’s only in it for fun, and choosing between them isn’t easy.
What’s the worst that could happen if he secretly courts them both?
Their romantic triangle is complicated in the most delicious way, until a shadowy figure from Marguerite’s past threatens to destroy the budding relationship—and their lives.
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A dead husband. An unconsummated marriage. She needs an heir. Any man will do.
1061 AD. A sprawling empire rich in gold, resources, and military might dominates West Africa. It’s The Kingdom of Ghana, and it’s at the height of its power.
Twenty-year old Nabeela is grappling with her own power struggle. In order to save her younger sister from their step-brother’s clutches, Nabeela agrees to marry a repulsive African prince and bear him an heir. However, her plans are waylaid when tragedy strikes on her wedding night—her new husband dies—without consummating their marriage.
She must find a replacement to impregnate her immediately. Any man will do—including a drunken soldier her servants find naked taking a bath in a neighboring village. Nabeela holds him captive and coerces him into having sex with her—stealing the one thing he can never get back—his seed.
What she doesn’t know is the soldier is Rafan, Commander of a warring tribe’s royal army, and one of her family’s arch enemies. Eager for revenge, Rafan tracks her down once he’s released. But when these two reunite, they realize their lust for each other is far greater than their disdain.
Enamored by Nabeela’s beauty and bravery, Rafan makes her an offer of marriage, and the promise to help her become queen. He convinces her that they are stronger allies than enemies. Even though they share a commitment to unite, there are others who are determined to destroy them and their plans, including the one person Nabeela would have never suspected. In the end, she’s is forced to choose between her passion and her ambition.
1040 C.E. Kingdom of Ghana, West Africa
Nabeela guzzled from the goblet of wine in her room. Maybe it would give her courage for the loathsome task ahead of her. The fermented liquid slid down her throat and winded is way through her knotted entrails to her empty stomach. Good. The concoction would take effect sooner without any remnants of the wedding feast lining her belly. She had not been able to eat a single morsel, despite her mother’s half-hearted attempts to get her to do so. This was no cause for celebration. Not when she’d just married a man old enough to be her father. Indeed, possibly old enough to be her grandfather, had he lived.
Her new husband, Hakim, had no problem eating. Earlier, he’d shoveled massive amounts of food into the entrance of the seemingly bottomless pit that served as his mouth. Nabeela grimaced recalling how his sausage-like fingers had stuffed shanks of braised lamb past his thick lips. His gluttonous appetite had earned jests and ribald comments from his troops. She’d contained her disgust as she watched him shove everything on his platter into his mouth. Errant crumbs escaped, only to be captured in the deep folds of his sumptuous robes.
He was a repulsive pig.
And she was forever tethered to him through marriage.
She took a deep breath. She could endure this. She had to, for the sake of her mother, Falak and her ancestors. It was better to suffer the injustice of this world than to anger the ancestors in the next. Her virtue was the only weapon she could bargain with right now. In return, Hakim offered a generous bride price of cattle and gold for her. He was a Hooro, a member of the ruling class who administered authority. By strategically marrying up one caste she ensured her safety as well as her family’s. She accepted this as her duty. There was no pleasure in duty—only reward once the work was done.
She walked the few steps from her quarters into her sleeping chamber where Hakim waited. She was veiled, as was the custom. Her new husband would remove the veil, consummate the union, and leave his seed in her. That was her only value—to produce an heir. Then hopefully, he would leave her be. Though the women of her clan had little political power, she hoped to change that.
Hakim already had three dead wives and one living son. The wives had all died under mysterious circumstances. Rumors of poisoning abounded. Only the bravest whispered the name of Ghazi, Hakim’s son. It was suggested he’d committed the acts, so jealous was he of anyone, male or female who got close to this father.
Nabeela had few encounters with Ghazi, but she made sure to steer clear of him. He had a cruel streak longer than the Niger River. He pounced like a rabid dog on anyone who dared speak against him. She’d seen first-hand how he treated servants and slaves, threatening to send them to the salt mines in Taghaza—a death sentence. Though only five years older than she, he had the disposition of a bitter old man.
And he was now her stepson.
He’d taken Nabeela, her mother, and Falak in after the soldiers ravaged their citadel years ago. The militia still waged their war of terror, taking advantage of the vast distances between the cities to wreak havoc. Villages and towns that had been settled by generations of influential Soninkes were being burned to the ground on a daily basis.
Nabeela and her family had lived a secure existence until a few months ago when Ghazi set his sights on marrying Falak. He’d insisted it was merely to unite their families. But her mother had persuaded Hakim to marry Nabeela instead. After all, Falak was only fourteen years old. Too young and innocent to be married to a snake with a voracious thirst for power. Ghazi was so enraged, for the past few months, he’d kept Falak in a separate part of the keep. She would be released as soon as this marriage was consummated. It was Ghazi’s way of assuring Nabeela kept her word. There were days she wondered if they were better off eking out an existence in the forests than here under Ghazi’s crushing thumb.
Nabeela pushed her depressing thoughts aside and entered her bedchamber. Hakim’s broad, naked back greeted her. Flabby folds of skin hung from his solid frame. She prayed to The Creator she would not be crushed beneath his massive girth.
She circled him slowly, her long robes flowing as she walked. His eyes lit up when he saw her. His grin revealing crowded rows of yellow teeth set against dark skin that reminded her of a jackal hunting at night. Her stomach churned. She had not married him for his good looks, but for his protection and influence from the Almoravid caliphate, Berber Muslims encroaching from the North.
For years, Abdulla ibn Yasin, the leader of a large group of Almoravids, had been gaining in power, and trying to force Islam down the throats of Ghanian kings. But the kings refused to convert. A shift in religion was only part of the problem. Ghana was rich with gold, and salt—a commodity, almost as valuable as gold. And although the kingdom had flourished for hundreds of years, trading with peaceful Berbers and wealthy Arab merchants, riches had a way of corrupting even the most pious men.
Now the best way to protect the Soninke remote regions was for the king to give more power to his minor kings and military governors. This way, they could defend these vassals against the constant raiding of the Sanhadjas and the Almoravids.
It seemed no one was safe in these turbulent times. And so, Nabeela found herself in need of a defender. Everyone paid tribute to someone. Since she had no wealth, she would pay in flesh. Without Hakim’s protection, her family was at the mercy of warring troops. She was merely a pawn in the process, but she intended to get as much power as she could. Power was more valuable than sex or beauty. Mother had taught her that.
Hakim reached for her, his meaty fingers attached to pudgy wrists and corpulent arms. He eyed her like a hungry crocodile at a watering hole. The sounds of his strained breathing filled the air.
“Been …waiting all night to…look at you. Up close.”
She was sure the only thing he wanted to see up close was an overstuffed platter placed in front of him.
Thick lips that had just hours ago sucked the greasy cartilage from chicken bones now wanted to sample her flesh. He removed the faceplate of her veil. His eyes widened in appreciation. “Comely creature.”
Nabeela took offence at being called a creature. She had never considered herself comely, though her mother often told her she was. She felt her nose was too big and her eyes were too far apart. Truly, beauty meant nothing without the resources. Otherwise, she was just a whore. Using her body to get what she wanted. She had no plans to do that.
Hakim issued a gruff command. “Disrobe.”
She did so without hesitation. For months, she’d known this moment would come. Best to get it over with. There would be pain the first time. She knew that, too. Pain was part of life. Mother had also told her this.
Nabeela stood in all her naked glory in front of her new husband. She would not let him see how disgusted she felt. Instead, her eyes wandered below his waist. She frowned at the fleshy proboscis jutting from the wiry bush between his hairy thighs. She’d never seen a man’s root before. Hakim’s was the size of her forefinger. It was the only emaciated part of him.
“Lick it,” he ordered.
Her heart beat like the frenzied rhythm of a drum. This was one thing she had not anticipated.
If I have to put that thing in my mouth, I will wretch.
She closed her eyes, and choked back the bile rising in the back of her throat. To think, she’d preserved her maidenhead for this moment. That was her saving grace and the only reason she’d been able to barter herself.
Her eyes flickered open when she felt Hakim’s meaty fingers groping her breasts. He had a look of rapture on his face. She bit her lip. She would have to endure this ogre’s fondling for days, weeks, perhaps even months until she knew she was with child. It would be hard to do when his touch made her skin crawl.
She sank to her knees on the thick tapestry of rugs as though she were being led to her death. Hakim’s manhood jutted out like a flag on a windy day. Her face hovered near the hard flesh.
“Yes,” he groaned in anticipation.
Nabeela prayed for courage.
Oh, divine goddess, please let me survive this ordeal. I must!
Summoning the strength of her ancestors, she leaned forward and opened her mouth. Her lips were mere inches from the tip of his shaft. Without warning, he took a step backward. Confused, Nabeela looked up. His mouth was distorted into a grimace, frozen into what would have been a lop-sided grin if not for the grotesque mask of pain. His puffy jowls slackened as one hand clutched at his heart, grasping a fistful of wooly chest hair.
Nabeela gasped as Hakim’s corpulent body crashed to the floor like a tree being felled in the forest. She watched, horrified as his eyes rolled back into his head, and his labored breathing abruptly ceased. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. She was not prone to emotional outbursts, but the death of her new husband was reason to panic. All her hopes for a better future had just died with him.
The enigmatic Hancock has been both opponent and ally to the KGI teams for as long as they’ve known him. Always working a deep game, Hancock’s true allegiance has never been apparent, but one thing is for certain—he never lets anything get in the way of duty.
But now, his absolute belief in the primacy of his ultimate goal is challenged by a captive he’s been ordered to guard, no matter how much she suffers in her prison. She’s the only woman who’s ever managed to penetrate the rigid walls surrounding his icy heart, but will he allow his perplexing feelings for the beautiful victim to destroy a mission he’s spent years working to complete or will he be forced to sacrifice her for “the greater good.”
Meet the women and men who work at Luxxor Limited, a high-end escort service. The company caters to the wealthy by matching them with escorts who are as smart, mannered, and cultured as they are beautiful. The one limitation in Luxxor’s contracts? No sex allowed. Except, of course, if the contact is mutually acceptable.
On the seventeenth day of February 1987, author and poet Michael Lee Womack was born in the small town of Sanford, North Carolina. While coming up through elementary school, middle school, and high school Mr. Womack was extremely shy. Michael Lee Womack was extremely shy, but he had a love for the ladies. His love for the ladies would eventually give birth to his love for poetry. Whenever he was in middle school and high school he was specifically known for writing poems for every beautiful woman that he was too shy to speak to.
War is chaos, and many soldiers bear the scars from it for the rest of our lives.