Title: Salvage Her Heart
Author: Shelly Pratt
Gerne: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Expected Release Date: March 1, 2014
Hosted by: Love Between the Sheets Promotions
AlexIf women tell you they don’t like power, they’re fucking lying. People say I’m arrogant and rude, which is laughable when that is what has drawn them to me in the first place. I would prefer to think of myself as a confident, self-assured man who knows what he wants. And I most definitely knew what I wanted when it came to Evie …
EvieI thought he was what I wanted. I thought he would be perfect. I dreamed of my prince charming – loving me and being the one who I could tell my deepest, darkest fears to. Now all I fear is him. When I found out the truth of not only his, but my parents’ deception, all I wanted to do was run – run as far as I could from my godforsaken life and start again somewhere where nobody would know my name. In reality, I knew that wasn’t possible … well, not until I met Grayson Glines.
GraysonOh, she’s cute alright, but damaged too. Not weak, though, please don’t mistake the two. This girl has fight and balls of steel. She’s got a hard stare that makes you look away, shy that she’s caught you gazing. And her eyes, man, they’re something else. What do they tell me? Set me free.
Prologue - Alex
**Please note – the following is unedited and remains subject to change. Worldwide copyright laws are observed.**
While downing my fifth scotch for the evening, I beckon her to me. She says nothing, but she knows what I want. Forget the elephant in the room; it’s a bit hard to hide my bulging erection that I’ve freed from my pants. Most people would be worried about getting their four hundred dollar trousers dirty. Not me. That kind of money is pocket change in my world. Despite her eagerness to oblige me, there is a reason behind her willing to please. I mean come on, if you haven’t figured it out already you’re not as smart as I thought you were. Okay, I’ll spell it out for you any way. I get a little rough. Not all the time, but if you don’t give me what I want, well, let’s just say there are consequences. ‘On your knees’. There was no need for the command, but fuck, I’ve got to say I like the sound of my own voice. It’s rich, deep, commanding and powerful. It speaks of a man who has always gotten what he wants. Evie is no exception. I wanted her then and I want her now. She obliges me by sliding to her knees, her silk stockings making it slippery on the tiles for her. She grabs my knees to steady herself before leaning forward to take me in her mouth, all the while not making eye contact with me. I let her get away with it for the minute, but my patience has limits. Her mouth is hot and wet. It is utter delight as her lips start to move back and forth over my shaft, messily leaving behind her lipstick as she does. As she goes to work on me, I down the last of my drink before taking her carefully done braid in my grasp. Evie is definitely in my league as far as looks go. She’s got long, blonde hair that has never seen the inside of a salon. All the streaks and highlights are from time spent outdoors. Sometimes she likes to challenge me on my rule of her keeping it natural. I think her opposing opinions are merely to rile me up so that I put her in her place. Yes, I do think she secretly likes me smacking her arse. It may belittle her at the time but you can be rest assured it makes her think twice before raising the subject again. I refuse to have my wife look like some fake, tarted-up bimbo. I want her looking natural – well, except for the red lippy. The red lipstick stays. I’m not going to give it up easily. I’m going to make her work for it. Hell, I even zone out for a while, taking in the city that is my playground. Living and working in a town that is fast becoming a place that doesn’t sleep is like a drug. The more I immerse myself in it, the more I want to be king of this empire. Slowly but surely I’m putting other companies out of business. Pretty soon I’m going to have everything I ever dreamed of. Evie is sucking greedily now. Not because she’s into it, because she’s not. Oh let’s be honest! She just wants me to give it up so she can get the job over and done with. I know she doesn’t mind me fucking her vanilla, but blowjobs have never been her thing. She tried to pull off me once just as I was about to come. What a mistake. She’s never tried to pull that shit again, although she still gags, the reflex an unbreakable trait. Like now, for example; even in the darkly lit living room I can see her eyes beginning to water as my dick swells against the back of her throat. I’m sure she can taste my pre-come – the salty, bitter fluid already affording her a taste of what’s to come. I slide a little lower in my leather seat, thrusting just that little bit more inside of her mouth. She tries to back off, although there’s no escape. Her braid that is wound tightly around my fist is tugged ever so slightly, a reminder that I have control of her head. I’m close and she knows it. I can feel her reposition my dick towards the back corner of her mouth where her molars are so she doesn’t have to taste my semen on her taste buds. If I was any kind of man, which I am, I should be rather insulted by this – which I am. And when I’m insulted, I’m not very forgiving.
When I come, I come hard. And no, it’s not aimed at the back of her mouth like she’d have liked. Pulling her hair makes her wince and she loses some of the suction on my shaft, her lips making sucking and slurping noises as she tries to reposition me back to where she’d like me. Unfortunately for her, she’s too late. Her perfectly positioned tongue is only lapping at the eye of my cock when I blow in her mouth. I’ve got to give her credit for her spunk because she does try to pull away. Unsuccessfully, I might add. My grip on her hair forces her to remain right where she is. I keep her there until I’m licked clean. Getting a blow job is not as good as fucking her pussy, but it sure comes a close second. I never give her the satisfaction of pleasurable sounds coming from my mouth, though, because that would be giving her the green light that she has in some way pleased me. And with the knowledge that she has pleased me would give her power. Power I don’t want her to have. There may, or may not be tears in her eyes tonight. They have no effect on me whatsoever. I dismiss her to bathe before bed while I pour myself a refill of scotch. Twenty-two stories below, people are still walking the boardwalk that runs along the river’s edge. Some are alone, others huddled together like love birds. It’s a sentiment I’m not familiar with. My whole life is lived like a business transaction. I know I like having Evie in my life and I know I like the status of being a married man. But love, well, it’s not for me. In the beginning I know Evie foolishly thought that it could be that way between us. Like her parents, she was lured into the deception I was selling. Trust me when I say, no one sells lies like I do. I showed them what they wanted to see; revealed the parts of me and my life that would be desirable by a family like theirs. Each and every one of them fell hook, line and sinker. It’s laughable, really, that one family could be so gullible. I’m sure over the last three years they’ve all tried to think a way out of the Alex Stratford contract, but all I can say is, ‘Over my dead body,’ or more likely, over theirs. ©Copyright 2013/2014 Shelly Pratt