New Release! His to Punish, The Cleaners by Doris O’Connor @mamaD8

Thanks so much for having me on your blog today with my new release His to Punish, book two of my dark romance series The Cleaners. This is the story of Ren’s second in command Ty Mason. Ever since I wrote Book one in the series, His Prize, I’ve been itching to tell Ty’s story.

 

Ty seemed much softer than Ren, when we first get to know him, and to an extent that is certainly true. Ty though, like all of the cleaners to be fair, has many layers. He’s just as deadly as Ren; ruthlessly protective of those he cares about and deeply loyal.

I had great fun unravelling the truth behind who is Ty Mason, and there were a few surprises in store, I tell you. Subsequently this story is much longer than the first book in this series. It has many twists and turns as my too-feisty-for-her-own-good heroine goes looking for revenge… Which places Ty in somewhat of a dilemma.

Ren is like a brother to him, and he will do anything to protect his family, but what is he to do when the one woman who gets under his skin seems determined to threaten that family.

Well, you’ll have to read the book to find out what happens, I’m afraid. 🙂

 
 

Blurb:

Revenge or love…either choice will sacrifice her freedom. 

Dance teacher Jeanette MacArthur has one thing on her mind when she auditions for a job at La Masquerade—revenge. She couldn’t protect her sister from the criminals she now seeks employment with, but she can ensure that justice prevails.

If only her body wouldn’t melt at the touch of one of them. Ty Mason, second-hand man of the Cleaners, oozes dominance, aggression, and danger. He stands for everything she ought to despise, yet this unwanted attraction threatens to ruin her.

Ty can’t take his eyes off the new dancer, not least because he senses the threat she represents. Only one thing for it—claim her for his own, and torture the secrets out of her—if need be.

Her unwilling submission, however, means he discovers more than her secrets. His heart and their future are on the line.

Be Warned: BDSM, forced seduction, rimming, spanking, sex toys

 
18 + Excerpt:
 

Ty’s hands went to his belt, and she jumped when he spoke again.

“I said strip, girl, now.”

Jeanette complied with shaking hands, and another one of these deep, dark growls rumbled from Ty’s chest, when she stood before him naked. Try as she might she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, had to fight the insane urge to sink to her knees, in fact. Lord only knew what was happening to her. She was losing the plot, because she could swear she could feel Ty’s intense gaze like a physical touch, as he ran it over her naked body.

She jumped again when he cracked the belt through the air like a whip, the resulting snap far too loud in the quiet room. He stepped around her, running one finger along her skin. From the tip of her nose, around her mouth, down her neck, and along her collarbone into the valley between her breasts, he continued the silent exploration, the contrast of his much paler flesh next to hers a heady aphrodisiac indeed. When he cupped one of her breasts in his hand and lifting it, bent his head to suck her hard nipple into his mouth, Jeanette couldn’t stop her whimper of need. Unbidden her hands tangled in his hair, to keep him there, as every hard suck made her pussy quiver in need. She could smell her own arousal in the air, as her juices slowly trickled down the inside of her thighs.

Ty bit down hard on the breast in his mouth, and the sharp pain of his bite made Jeanette cry out. Not in pain exactly, because she was far too turned on and already teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

“Please…”

Ty soothed the leftover ache from his bite by licking it, before he abruptly withdrew.

“I haven’t given you permission to touch me, girl.” He reached up to grasp her wrist, and Jeanette immediately let go of his hair. She caught a glimpse of his stern expression before he swung her around.

“Face the wall, and spread your legs, girl.”

It didn’t even occur to her to disobey, and when he joined her moments later his clean male musk enveloped her.  He crowded her against that wall, the coolness of it against her skin a direct contrast against the heated male body pressing against her from behind. The feel of his chest hair against her back made her hyperaware of his harsh breathing. She closed her eyes against her shame, when he reached around and between her legs. There was nowhere to hide now, as confirmed by his next words.

“So fucking wet for me. You’re mine now, girl.”

A bite to her shoulder followed that possessive claim, and Jeanette cried out in surprise when he shoved two fingers into her pussy at the same time. Wet as she was they slid right in, and her internal muscles clamped down on the invaders. Ty thrust those digits in and out of her channel and adding another one, finger-fucked her with merciless precision. His cock was a hard, solid ridge against her hip, and he groaned into her neck again, when she spread her legs wider for him.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, your body knows who you belong to, doesn’t it?”

Jeanette tried to respond, but nothing but a keening sound came out, because Ty curled his fingers to massage her G-spot. Pleasure surged through her hard and fast, and her hips took on a life of their own as she rocked herself against his hand, desperate to gain the friction she needed to her clit to get over.

Before she could get there, however, Ty withdrew his fingers, and slapped her ass hard. Jeanette moaned her denial and shoved her ass back into him in a silent bid for him to continue, but she should have known that was a useless exercise.

“No, your orgasms belong to me now, and you will not come without my permission.

One hand fisted in her hair, he pulled her away from the wall and marched her across to the cross. Jeanette’s heart missed a few beats, and then turned into a jackhammer when she caught side of their reflection in the mirror on the wall.

She looked like she felt, a woman on the edge. Her eyes were too wide, her mouth, still swollen from his earlier kisses slightly open, her breasts swaying from side to side, and shaking with every harsh breath she managed to draw into her lungs, as he half dragged her along. Her skin already showed the marks of his possession, his bite marks clearly visible, and she groaned when his arm came round her waist, and he kicked her legs apart. It meant her swollen most intimate parts were clearly visible. Jeanette ought to be ashamed at how wet she was, at the needy sounds that immediately spilled from her lips, when Ty yanked her head back further, and rubbed his jaw along her neck. His breath singed her skin, and their gazes locked. His dark eyes flashed with dangerous intent, and Jeanette’s internal muscles clenched in response, sending more moisture to her swollen lips.  Ty smiled when he noticed, and his voice dropped even further, sending yet more shivers of dread, or was it anticipation, down her spine. Her clit quivered, the usually tiny bud clearly visible at the top of her hood.

“Take a good look, titch. Your body doesn’t lie. You want this, need it, even, and I’m just the man to give you what you need. All you have to do is ask.”

Buy it from:
 
 
 
 
 
 
*****
 
 
 
 About Doris:
 

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get.  From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.

Stalk her in these places

New Release! Native Tongue – M/M Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse #erotica #romance #military #interracial

Out Now – Native Tongue – M/M Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) 

nativetongueBlurb:

They may be back on British soil, but the battle isn’t over.

When Captain Hugh Wilkes fell for his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, he always knew things would never be easy. After months of complete secrecy, their return to England should have spelt an end to the sneaking around and the insane risks. But it seems there are many obstacles for them to overcome before they can truly be happy together. Can they get past those obstacles, or is this one battle too many for their fledgling relationship?

Author’s note: Although this story does work as a standalone tale, it’s recommended that you read the first instalment of the characters’ journey first—Desert Heat, which is available from all good retailers.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/native-tongue/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25462496-native-tongue

**For those of you that haven’t yet read Desert Heat either, there’s a great value double pack containing both books available exclusively on Amazon (from 14th May), which is available for lending, and for Kindle Unlimited members: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/desert-heat-native-tongue/ **

*****

teaser_nativetongue

Excerpt:

Captain Hugh Wilkes drummed enthusiastically on the steering wheel of his car as he drove it up the M3 towards London. He sung loudly and tunelessly along to the song on the radio, too, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear him.

He’d surprised himself by being so chilled out about the volume of Friday evening traffic. He wasn’t the most patient of people, so the slow progress should probably have been increasing his blood pressure, if not leading to full on road rage. But, although he’d have loved to be actually achieving the speed limit, not bumbling along at a mere fifty miles per hour, Wilkes was just glad the traffic was moving at all. Britain’s roads, the motorways in particular, soon came to a standstill if there was so much as a tiny bump between two vehicles. So any progress was better than none.

Besides, what could he do about it? His only other options to get to London from his base in Wiltshire were a train, or stealing a plane, helicopter or tank. The latter might just cause a little bit of bother, and mean the end of his army career, not to mention criminal charges. The former meant cramming in amongst sweaty, disgruntled commuters. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d be charged an extortionate amount to do so, probably wouldn’t even get a seat, and would likely be subjected to delays.

At least driving took him from door to door, with plenty of personal space. And if there were delays, well, he could sit them out from the comfort of his own vehicle, with the climate control set to the perfect temperature, and the radio blasting some of his favourite tunes.

The next song was even better, and Wilkes’ tuneless wailing became more enthusiastic, as did the drumming on the steering wheel. He was in one hell of a good mood, and if he was truthful with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the fact the M3 was moving at a nice pace. It wasn’t the Friday feeling, either. Sure, both of those things were contributing to his happiness, but the main reason he was grinning like a buffoon was the thought of what awaited him in the capital. Or rather, who.

Rustam Balkhi. His gorgeous Afghan boyfriend, whom he’d met out in Afghanistan while they were working together for the British Army. Now, with their tour of duty over and the forces’ presence pulled out of the country, the two men had returned to England. Wilkes had gone back to his regular army life in Bulford Camp, near Salisbury. Balkhi was in London, where he’d recommenced the medical training he’d postponed to become an interpreter for the Brits.

The past few weeks had been somewhat of a whirlwind. Wilkes’ return to the UK had been straightforward, but Balkhi had had to jump through some hoops in order to get back onto his medical course. He’d been willing to start from scratch, but it’d seemed like an awful waste of time, so Wilkes had spoken to his superiors, who’d explained to the university what important work Balkhi had been doing. Fortunately, they’d been persuaded of Balkhi’s commitment and character, and allowed him to pick up where he’d left off. That settled, Balkhi had to pack up, travel back to the UK, find somewhere to live, move in… and all before the start of the next academic term.

Wilkes had felt terrible. His return had taken place a few weeks before Balkhi’s, so although he’d been granted some leave for R&R, he hadn’t been able to either spend it with Balkhi, or to use it help him with his relocation. By the time Balkhi had set foot on British soil, Wilkes was back to work. And, given nobody knew about the two of them, or even that Wilkes was gay, he couldn’t exactly ask for more leave in order to help his boyfriend move into his new flat.

Life had conspired against them ever since, so this was the first opportunity they’d had to see each other since saying goodbye in Afghanistan all those weeks ago. They’d communicated via email, text message and phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same. Especially since they’d gone from seeing each other every single day for the best part of six months to not setting eyes on each other for weeks on end.

Wilkes had struggled terribly in the interim. Life had been tough enough while they were still out in the desert. After weeks and weeks of trying desperately to ignore their growing attraction, they’d finally given in to it. It had been stupid and risky, but, having quickly realised there was more to their attraction than the physical, they’d decided to carry on their relationship in secret while they were in Afghanistan, see how it went, and figure things out once Wilkes’ tour of duty was over. Balkhi had always intended to return to the UK for his studies, so they would, at least, be living in the same country.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9