Warning: Graphic sex and violence. Age
18+ only
Her life
is like a prison cell.
A
self-made, to-hell-with-the-free-world existence that locks from the inside.
Stop
judging. Her agoraphobia doesn’t define her. It simply keeps her safe.
He belongs
in a prison cell.
The 6x8,
make-me-your-bitch variety that locks from the outside.
But he’s
free. To hunt. To take. To break.
And he
just found a sexy new toy.
Capturing
her is the easy part. Her fucked-up mind, however, makes him question
everything he does next.
But he’s a
determined bastard. If all goes his way, this will hurt like hell.
Vanquish Links →
GoodreadsExcerpt →
He stalked toward her, mirroring the tilt of her head, knees
and shoulders loose, and his gaze holding her prisoner. A breath away, he
paused, soaking in the subtleties of her tipped-up chin, parting lips, and
glossy but resolute eyes.
With the next breath, he launched, hands on her jaw, fingers
spread around the back of her head.
His elbows dropped, shoulders raised, and he yanked her to
him, lifting her on tiptoes, guiding her mouth, taking it. His grip twisted
through her hair as he drew in her upper lip and shoved her against the fridge,
following her with the weight of his body.
The kiss went fucking wild, their lips mashing in a frantic
battle. His tongue plunged her mouth, attacking, thrusting in and out,
possessing her movements, owning her. Breath for breath, lick after lick, he
ate at her mouth, tasting, devouring.
He dropped his hands to her breasts, squeezing ruthlessly as
he rolled his cock against her cunt.
His tongue tingled, his skin burned, and his head swam. God,
she was a drug, and he was so fucking high.
She gripped his biceps, bit at his lips, and threw her arms over his shoulders, her fingers scratching the fuck out his back. He shuddered, loving it, but he was in control.
Reaching back, he grabbed her wrists and slammed them above her head. Their bodies ground together, his forearms pressing hers to the fridge, their tongues dancing and clashing. Chest-to-chest, hips fused together, he flexed his ass, dry humping her like a horny teenager.
Jesus, fuck, he didn't care. He wanted her.
He leaned back to study her face and found strong smoldering
eyes, sharp breaths, and swollen wet lips. Whatever she saw in his expression
made her mouth chase his and her fingers curl around his hands. They kissed
endlessly, fueling the fire and pushing his control long past the point of
discomfort before pulling back and starting all over again.
When he broke the kiss with a hand on her jaw, they panted as
one, mouths open and so close their bottom lips brushed. She peered at him
through lowered lashes, and he stared back in awe. What trembled between them
wasn't an if? Or even a how hard? Those were foregone. The
question they shared was simple.
Ready?
Teaser picture →
Author bio →
New York
Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with
her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away,
she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three
universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
Java,
tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be
considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls
with blinking eyes.
Author Links →
Facebook →
https://www.facebook.com/pamgodwinbooks
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