SHE’s a good girl, or at least she tries to be. People think Samantha Hunter lives a fairytale life. Only this young, wealthy American in Paris has a secret. If she lets it free, there’s no telling what she’ll do. Being the wild child is one thing. Letting her dark fantasies run wild is quite another. How could she? The better question is…how could she not?
HE wears a suit, but he is not entirely civilized. Oleg Balashov is often hungry for something he’ll probably never find. His closest friends have similar appetites and the private club they own is the perfect place to feed their desires. Oleg is ready to pay an old debt with an arranged marriage, mafia style. Then Samantha appears on a bar stool with just enough curiosity to get her into trouble. She’s in way over her pretty head. Or is it the other way around? The Masters of Club Duval have a new pet and she isn’t so easy to tame. Samantha Hunter is about to rewrite all the rules for these Doms and nothing will ever be the same.
Trigger warning: Oleg owns a whip, and he knows how to use it. After the happily ever after ending, the epilogue of this book will be an introduction to the prologue of book 2, Unleashed.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was a raspy and feral version of itself. “Your safeword… Scream it loud. Scream it at the top of your fucking lungs, because I need your screams today for all the wrong fucking reasons.”
He cracked the whip again, and it snapped her shoulder blade with the thinnest of cuts, sounding like a gunshot, feeling like a hornet’s kiss.
“If I hurt you…” he said.
She turned around, and her gaze locked first on his trembling hand and then his tortured eyes. “I will survive you.”
“If you survive me, then you can have me, because truly I belong to no one else.” The whip cracked above her head.
“Turn the fuck around!”
When she did, he snapped a sideways strike across her ass. Her flesh lit with fiery agony. She balled her fists and inhaled deeply, trusting his control over the nine-foot length of braided leather.
Then a loud thud sounded, and a crash followed. She turned around to see Oleg stalking toward her, his whip strewn across the floor next to a broken vase.
Heavy, billowing breaths blew past his lips. He scratched his chin and then rubbed the back of his head. One last swallow, and he steadied himself. The worst of the storm had passed and she’d survived. In fact, she’d more than survived. Samantha had stood in the eye of the storm and remained on her feet.
“Where the hell did you come from?” he demanded, grabbing both of her shoulders, shaking her once, though she was certain he wasn’t concerned with the name of her hometown.
She didn’t flinch. His hold on her was nothing to fear. Then his thumbs swiped at the teardrops on her cheeks before he decided to sip on them instead. She melted right there. “How did you find me?” she asked the same unseen knower of all things.
God, how badly she wanted this man inside of her. She pawed at the chastity belt, angry at it so suddenly. Danger wafted off him in invisible waves, unspoken, ultrasonic, undeniably magnetic. The beautiful, broken monster had revealed himself, raw, untethered, and she devoured his anger, his pain. It had given her peace even as she hungered to know the limits of his pain, to be at the sharp edge of his despair with him. But why? What could be found in dark, bottomless pools that made her want to jump in? She’d been asking herself that question all her life and still didn’t have an answer.
Alyssa believes that when characters speak to you, you’ve got to listen. She’s been all ears and writing stories in all lengths since childhood. She only wonders where those notebooks of handwritten dramas ended up.
Almost everyone tags her romances as habanero hot, and with her proclivity for the ménage genre, Alyssa is often recognized for weaving complexity and emotional depth into her characters. She has so much fun writing, she can never be relied upon to put the wash into the dryer any time after 10 PM. Luckily, she is married to the most understanding husband in the world.
The Love Has No Regrets collection of novels by Alyssa Turner includes several series with familiar characters threaded into each story. Her LHNR world is ever growing, spanning from Manhattan to Paris, with Polyamorous love that answers only to the heart. Read more about Alyssa Turner and preview her published works on her blog.
Dakota — Having a half-brother who’s an infamous assassin isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. At twenty-five, he’s still micromanaging my life. The moment Specter tells me about an arranged marriage to one of his associates I do what any sane woman would… I run. Never counted on meeting a biker I can’t seem to forget, nor did I plan on our two days together to have lasting consequences. When bad men find me, there’s only one person I want. Charming. I’m just not certain I’ll get a warm reception.
Charming — Dakota is different from anyone I’ve ever known, and it’s not because of who her brother is. It’s simply her. Some sixth sense keeps telling me she’s in trouble. When she calls and asks for help, I know I’ll do anything for her. The men after her have no idea she’s mine, or that she’s carrying my kid, but they will soon enough. I won’t rest until they’re six feet under.
Sighing, I thought about my brother. I’d gotten a new phone with a different number. I didn’t delude myself into thinking he couldn’t reach me. He had people who could track me down, give him my number, or do pretty much anything else he asked. And yet he hadn’t… I had to wonder why.
What are you up to, Specter?
“Stop daydreaming, Dakota,” my boss barked from farther down the bar.
I gave him a salute, grabbed the pitcher of beer and mugs, then carried them over to one of my tables. The guys were obnoxious, with way too many grabby hands. I’d already tried moving away multiple times, but it did little good. They latched onto me just the same. Glaring didn’t help either. At one inch shy of being five feet tall, I wasn’t exactly intimidating. Not even to drunk guys who looked barely twenty-one. In fact, I’d wondered if their IDs were fake, but the boss had let them order alcohol.
Not my circus, not my monkeys. If the big guy wanted to get in trouble for serving minors, that was all on him.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked.
“How about your number?” one of them asked, leering at me.
“Nah, we don’t need her number. Why don’t you give us a round of blowjobs?” All of them laughed. I knew the boss wouldn’t take kindly to me dumping a pitcher of beer over their heads, but it was tempting. My hand tightened on the handle as I slowly counted to ten silently, hoping to cool my temper.
Before I could even respond, a tall man with scruff along his jaw and a leather cut over his shoulders slammed the guy’s head into the table. “Apologize.”
I hadn’t even seen him! Where the hell had he come from? I glanced around and saw several people staring in our direction. The guy pinned to the table didn’t seem so tough now. I got a closer look at the man who’d come to my rescue.
My heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to check my chin for drool. Handsome men were a dime a dozen. Even big sexy ones. But something about this one checked all the boxes for me. I’d never really dated much or had a genuine kiss before. I didn’t count the lackluster ones I’d received in the past. Some guys needed to learn to use less tongue. No woman wanted to be slobbered on like a dog was licking them.
So why did one look at this guy make me want to press my lips to his?
I started to fan myself and stopped. You’re being ridiculous! He’s a stranger.
While that was true, I knew his type. Seeing a guy like him get all protective had always been my kryptonite. Well, unless the guy was my brother. Specter just annoyed the crap out of me. But his friends trying to keep me safe? Biggest turn on ever. Not that I’d ever have told him that. And his buddies had never, not even once, tried to hit on me.
I eyed the man again, wondering if he was one of the bikers who knew my brother. He’d helped more than one club over the years. If this guy knew Specter, I shouldn’t be lusting after him. Being with him would only end in trouble. The type that left me with an overprotective brother threatening to kill the poor guy, or worse, Specter would try to marry me to the man.
Sexy or not, I didn’t want to ride off into the sunset with someone I didn’t know.
“S-sorry,” the guy stammered. “We were just giving her a hard time.”
I barely contained my snort. Sure. Let’s go with that. The asshole had been groping me and making lewd suggestions since he got here. I didn’t understand why the men always thought the servers were up for grabs. It wasn’t like you bought a beer and got a complimentary blowjob or something.
“I’ve been watching the lot of you. If so much as one more finger lands on my girl, I’ll rip your Goddamn hands off and shove them up your asses.” He growled and put more weight on the guy. “Understood?”
He got a jerky nod from the guys at the table before he backed off.
His? I arched an eyebrow as I watched the hunky man. Since he was saving my ass, I wasn’t about to call him out on his brutish behavior. Not in front of these guys, anyway. Besides, my savior was hot. More than hot. Scorching.
Marriage material? No. But… It didn’t mean I couldn’t be tempted to take him home for the night. Being the baby sister of an assassin meant my options had been limited over the years. Well, truthfully, it was worse. I’d had none.
“Come on, beautiful,” he said, holding his hand out to me.
I glanced at the patches and stitching on his cut. The one that said President gave me a slight pause. I didn’t remember my brother mentioning this club, but what if this guy figured out who I was? Could I risk it? I saw his name… Charming. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. This guy was anything but Prince Charming. More like Captain Caveman.
Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series. When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!
And when he came to collect, the money was gone. I used it to try and save someone I loved, but it still wasn’t enough.
Now Nico Morrelli is blackmailing me for the money I took. He’s ruthless and unyielding.
The Wolf in an Armani suit.
The man makes my body crave submission. Yet he can cost me and my girls everything. When he forced me into the underworld, he destroyed the sacrifices my family made to keep me safe.
I can’t become a tool for his revenge. Because my stakes are much higher. As my secrets unfold, I’m no longer sure who to trust. If only my heart didn’t want him so much.
Eva Winners released her first novel Second Chance At Love in 2020 and has been writing vigorously ever since. She writes about everlasting romance for every century focusing on characters emotional development and always guarantees an HEA.
She loves yoga, wine and her kiddos. In her spare time, she seeks adventures either hiking through trails or exploring the beaches.
Writing books has always been her passion and she brings real life to the forefront in everything she writes about.
Deeply passionate characters and stories will draw you in and you’ll never want to leave.
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