Lipstick from the series: The Black Dress Chronicles
a Romance on the Go fromEvernight Publishing
Paranormal Erotic Romance
Black Dress Chronicles, 1
The perfect shade of lipstick can lead to the perfect opportunity for sin…
When living-challenged author Claire Presswood gets invited to go on a night out on the town with her two best friends, she isn't prepared for the evening that awaits her. Hungry and overworked, she arrives at a masked party at an art museum in time to meet debonair artist Maxwell Douglas. One look from his luminous eyes and Claire knows this will be a night to remember.
Be Warned: light BDSM, spanking, sex toys
Read a naughty excerpt
“What would you like to see first?” Maxwell's eyes resumed their fiery trail down my body.
“How about that spanking bench?” I smiled, letting him lead the way.
He led me to it and I leaned forward onto the padded seat, deliberately giving him a stellar view of my backside. Rachel was right about the dress. It was perfect.
“Is this right?” I feigned ignorance, waggling my ass in the air.
He moved behind me and as I arched my back in a provocative pose. He sucked in his breath. “Yes. I'd say that's just about perfect.” He pressed his erection against my ass, grinding it against me.
I moaned deep in my throat, sure that this had to be some kind of dream. Moisture pooled in my slit and hunger clawing at my insides. A low keening growl escaped my lips and I froze.
He reached around and kissed me, his breath falling short as he took in the slight glow of my eyes.
“Exactly.” He opened my mouth, sliding his tongue against mine, urging me to respond.
I accepted the challenge, savoring his mouth. His scent was earthy and his essence made me want to devour him.
He broke the kiss and leaned back, his gaze meeting mine.
“God, my palm itches to spank you,” he breathed, reaching for an errant curl that had fallen across my face. “You are intoxicating.”
I took his hand and placed it on my breast, eager and more than ready. I turned in his arms and pushed my ass alongside the erection straining against his trousers. I imagined it inside me, pressing in even closer.
“I want you,” I breathed.
“Well then, there is just one little thing we need to remedy.” Maxwell's voice was low as he ran his hand in a light trail down my spine.
“Really? What's that?” I shivered as his hand traced lines down my body.
“The dress. It has to go.”
“Ummm.” I lifted my arm and his hand found the zipper. As he slowly moved it down, the dress loosened and he pulled it over my head. Clad in the thong, lacy-topped black thigh-highs, and shiny black stilettos, the chill of the room had fine goosebumps erupting all over my skin. My nipples pebbled with the delicious blend of cold and desire and maybe just a little fear. This man could do anything to me and who was to say the woman in his pictures upstairs was even alive?
The danger sped up my heart and made my juices flow.
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