For Spenser Ingram love is an abstract concept. Friendless and fearless, he happily walks his own solo path. Encouraged by his parents to wield his cold-blooded ruthlessness like a weapon, the boy who never cried grew into a man who regularly makes others weep.
Sent to deliver a message to a local motorcycle club that’s standing in the way of his family’s never-ending pursuit of power, he encounters Poppy Tennyson and is immediately captivated.
For the first time in his life, Spenser wants something for himself.
Unfortunately, a decades-long conspiracy is playing out behind the scenes, and he’s quickly left questioning if his affection for Poppy is genuine or a carefully crafted illusion created by the one person he thought he could trust.
The Dangerous Son is a dark and erotic romantic thriller set in a world where deception is the norm and the truth can’t be trusted.
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Read the first chapter here!
Stepping up onto my tiptoes, I nip at his whiskered chin, then yank his shirttails out of his waistband.After helping him drag the shirt over his head, I press a kiss against his heart. With a flirty wink, I unbuckle his belt and snap open the top button of his pants. A harsh breath is blown out over the top of my head when I pull Spenser’s zipper down. He grips my wrist and holds my hand in place.
“No expectations, remember?”
“I know.” My knuckles graze his bulge when I flex my fingers to test his resolve.
He hisses when I move my fingers again. My second touch galvanizes Spenser into action. He lets go of my arm and unbuttons my shirt with agile fingers. My black pants are pulled down to my ankles. Kneeling in front of me, Spenser tugs my heels free and helps me step out of them. When he peels my socks off, he tugs my pants to the floor.
“Jesus,” he curses. Every inch of my skin flushes red when Spenser drags his nose from my knee to the apex of my thighs. “I want to eat you.”
“Do it.” My challenge hangs in the air until he runs his finger over my panties, right down the slit to the tiny wet spot that’s darkening the red cotton. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging at his locks as warmth travels from my lower stomach to pool in my groin. “Touch me. Do something. Please.”
Spenser hooks his thumb into one side of my panties and slides them across to expose me. My hips buck as he slowly pushes his middle finger inside me. My legs turn to jelly, and struggling to maintain my balance, I clutch at his wide shoulders and his head. Eyes wide open, I rock my hips back and forth, watching as he works that single digit in and out of me.
“Oh, oh, oh,” I moan when Spenser increases his pace. “Oh.”
My grip on his hair has to be turning painful, yet he says nothing. In complete silence, he works me into a frenzy. I’m close. Closer than I’ve ever been without someone hurting me. Without someone holding a gun on me or restraining me. Without the choice to climax being forced onto me.
As my vision fills with black spots of ecstasy, memories that I don’t want to acknowledge begin to spring from their vault in my mind. My eyebrows draw together, and I screw my eyes shut to block out the monster who lives in my head. I’m on the cusp of pushing Spenser away, so I can hide from the feelings he’s pulling free when he presses his face against my mound and laves his flattened tongue over my clit. As my orgasm rockets through me, Spenser thrusts a second finger inside my heat and fucks me fast with his hand.
“Spenser. God. Fuck. Spenser!” I scream as my pussy detonates. Delicious warmth flows through me like lava. The flames of my climax ignite my mind and blazes across my skin. “Oh. God.”
Once I’ve finished spasming around his fingers, Spenser sweeps me into his arms and deposits me on the bed. He crawls over me, and I finally open my eyes to look at the man who just took me somewhere no one else ever has. The wonder that lightens his green gaze steals my breath. He is transfixed by my gaze, searching my face like he’s trying to read my mind. My lungs ache with the need to breathe, but my body refuses to cooperate.
I’ll let every atom of my body burn if it means I can remain in this moment forever.
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July 20: Sisters Get Lit(erary) 5-10 PM https://www.facebook.com/groups/sistersgetlit/
Zoe Hill is an Australian author. She hates speaking about herself in third person, but hopes you’ll bear with her…
A fan of the saying, “there’s three sides to every story. My side, your side, and the truth,” Zoe has discovered that she enjoys delving into the so-called villain’s version of events as she writes. In life and fiction, she firmly believes that we’re all one ‘bad’ decision away from becoming the villain in someone’s story.
This belief led to the creation of her brand of love story – Villainous Romance.
Residing in the Central West of New South Wales, she’s a country girl at heart who loves a good dose of heavy metal, watches UFC fights like it’s her job, and can be found discussing the plot of her current WIP with her animals. Zoe loves a good cup of coffee, lives and breathes books, and is pretty proud of how well she’s moonlighting as a competent wife and mother.
Zoe is active online and loves nothing better than chatting about books.
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