FROM BESTSELLING & AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR SELENA KITT
HALF A MILLION NAUGHTY BOOKS SOLD IN 2011
GUARANTEED QUALITY - THIS KITTY'S CREAM RISES TO THE TOP!
In this modern retelling of a fairy tale classic, former beauty queen Jolee Mercier finds herself in big trouble, locked in the trunk of her husband's BMW on her way to a remote location in the woods of northern Michigan where she's going to be killed.
Her crime? Knowing too much. An anonymous letter arrived addressed in her name with proof that her husband, Carlos, a state logging and mining mogul, had been the one responsible for her father's death years earlier, killed for supporting the unions at a local logging camp.
When a terrible accident ends her husband's plan to kill her, Jolee wakes up alone in a cabin in the middle of the woods, rescued by a masked man they call "the beast," with a husband who wants her dead, and miles of state forest between her and civilization.
EXCERPT:
Silas cradled her instantly and she let him, hands moving through her hair, over her back, soothing. Smiling, she rubbed her cheek against the solid expanse of his chest, feeling hairs tickling her and the rough edge of something. A scar? Her fingers moved up to explore it in the dark, finding her way, like a roadmap, to his throat. His skin was a surprise, smooth in places, rough and raised in others.
It wasn't until she reached his chin and he grabbed her hand that she realized. "You're not wearing a mask!"
"I don't sleep in it," he confessed, swallowing and shifting on the bed, placing her hand firmly on his chest--neutral territory.
"I can't see you anyway." She continued to follow the harsh terrain of his skin southward, finding the dip of his navel. "It's too dark."
"What are you doing?" His voice was choked, hoarse.
"Exploring," she whispered, reaching a thatch of thick, wiry hair with her fingertips. She found what she'd been searching for, half-risen out of its nest, the wrap of her hand around its pulsing length bringing it fully to life. His cock was alive in her hand, throbbing against her fingertips, the skin moving under her thumb when she began rubbing the meaty shaft up and down. She listened, but he wasn't breathing at all now.
"Silas?" She lifted her head as if she could see him in the darkness and heard him let out a pent-up breath.
"Shhhh." His hand slid over her hip, finding bare skin under her t-shirt. "I'm dreaming. I don't want to wake up."
"Me either." She felt his breath, warm against her cheek, and turned her face to his, their mouths pressed together for the first time. His lips were soft and they opened under pressure from her tongue, giving in to her insistent probing. She sensed him holding back, restraining himself, one hand gripping her hip, the other fisting her hair as they kissed, and even the gentle tug of her hand between his thighs didn't move him.
"Jolee," he whispered as she slid a thigh across his belly, moving to straddle him. "What are you doing?"
"I have a job for you." She walked her way up his chest with her fingertips, stopping briefly at one of his nipples, feeling him shudder. Then she leaned in to kiss him, her breasts pressed against his chest, his cock trapped between them, steel heat, and felt his hands move to her hips, holding on.
"What job?" he gasped when she slid further up, pressing her breasts against his face. He groaned as if he was in agony but Jolee ignored his plea for mercy, peeling off her t-shirt, hips already moving in circles against his belly.
"It's a little repetitious," she warned as she put one knee on his pillow and then the other, straddling his face.
"Oh god."
HALF A MILLION NAUGHTY BOOKS SOLD IN 2011
GUARANTEED QUALITY - THIS KITTY'S CREAM RISES TO THE TOP!
In this modern retelling of a fairy tale classic, former beauty queen Jolee Mercier finds herself in big trouble, locked in the trunk of her husband's BMW on her way to a remote location in the woods of northern Michigan where she's going to be killed.
Her crime? Knowing too much. An anonymous letter arrived addressed in her name with proof that her husband, Carlos, a state logging and mining mogul, had been the one responsible for her father's death years earlier, killed for supporting the unions at a local logging camp.
When a terrible accident ends her husband's plan to kill her, Jolee wakes up alone in a cabin in the middle of the woods, rescued by a masked man they call "the beast," with a husband who wants her dead, and miles of state forest between her and civilization.
EXCERPT:
Silas cradled her instantly and she let him, hands moving through her hair, over her back, soothing. Smiling, she rubbed her cheek against the solid expanse of his chest, feeling hairs tickling her and the rough edge of something. A scar? Her fingers moved up to explore it in the dark, finding her way, like a roadmap, to his throat. His skin was a surprise, smooth in places, rough and raised in others.
It wasn't until she reached his chin and he grabbed her hand that she realized. "You're not wearing a mask!"
"I don't sleep in it," he confessed, swallowing and shifting on the bed, placing her hand firmly on his chest--neutral territory.
"I can't see you anyway." She continued to follow the harsh terrain of his skin southward, finding the dip of his navel. "It's too dark."
"What are you doing?" His voice was choked, hoarse.
"Exploring," she whispered, reaching a thatch of thick, wiry hair with her fingertips. She found what she'd been searching for, half-risen out of its nest, the wrap of her hand around its pulsing length bringing it fully to life. His cock was alive in her hand, throbbing against her fingertips, the skin moving under her thumb when she began rubbing the meaty shaft up and down. She listened, but he wasn't breathing at all now.
"Silas?" She lifted her head as if she could see him in the darkness and heard him let out a pent-up breath.
"Shhhh." His hand slid over her hip, finding bare skin under her t-shirt. "I'm dreaming. I don't want to wake up."
"Me either." She felt his breath, warm against her cheek, and turned her face to his, their mouths pressed together for the first time. His lips were soft and they opened under pressure from her tongue, giving in to her insistent probing. She sensed him holding back, restraining himself, one hand gripping her hip, the other fisting her hair as they kissed, and even the gentle tug of her hand between his thighs didn't move him.
"Jolee," he whispered as she slid a thigh across his belly, moving to straddle him. "What are you doing?"
"I have a job for you." She walked her way up his chest with her fingertips, stopping briefly at one of his nipples, feeling him shudder. Then she leaned in to kiss him, her breasts pressed against his chest, his cock trapped between them, steel heat, and felt his hands move to her hips, holding on.
"What job?" he gasped when she slid further up, pressing her breasts against his face. He groaned as if he was in agony but Jolee ignored his plea for mercy, peeling off her t-shirt, hips already moving in circles against his belly.
"It's a little repetitious," she warned as she put one knee on his pillow and then the other, straddling his face.
"Oh god."
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