Rodeo Heat by Desiree Holt
She never knew what heat was until she met her cowboy—then fire consumed them.
It could have been the animalistic heat of the rodeo, or the pin with special powers that the old woman had all but forced her to buy. But whatever it was, within seconds of meeting rodeo rider Ben Lovell, Grace Delany safe world crumbled in a voluptuous explosion of lust. Every night was something new and Grace gave in to it all, relishing her body’s. As Ben Lowell led her from one earth-shattering climax to another, as her body softened and opened to him, her juices lubricating the way, all she could do was hang on for dear life and follow his lead. But when it was over, could she really walk away from the man who had taken her on an outrageous journey of sexual self-discovery where there were no limits or boundaries?
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“Oh my god,” she gasped, reaching for his head to pull it close.
He lifted his head and circled her wrists with his fingers. “It’s much better when you know you can’t touch me,” he told her. “When you’re spread out like a feast before me and I can take my time.” He lowered his voice. “You like it when I restrain you, don’t you, Grace?”
She nodded, wordless. She did like everything he did to her. Why had she acted so stupidly the other night?
“I like seeing you helpless, open to my mouth and hands and cock. Does that frighten you, Grace? Is that what made you run away?”
She shook her head and finally the words rushed from her lips. “Honestly? All of it scared me, Ben. The whole scene. But hiding from it hasn’t helped. I discovered I really love it all. I want it all. With you. Can you imagine what a shock that is to me? I like being wild with you.”
His chuckle was low and warm. “Tonight you will get it all, darlin’. Every bit and then some.” Reaching into the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs lined with pink fleece. “I bought these the other day when I had high hopes for the evening. Before you stood me up.” A grin played at the corners of his mouth.
“M-Maybe you should punish me for being bad,” she ventured, knowing the desire in his eyes was reflected in her own, yet still shocked at her boldness.
His laugh was full and rich. “Oh, I think I’ll have to do that. But all in its own good time.”
He threaded the handcuffs through one of the spindles on the headboard, then locked them around her wrists. His eyes ate her body like a starving man with a glimpse of a bountiful feast. Very slowly he slid her panties down her hips, over her ankles and tossed them to the floor. One warm palm covered her naked pussy.
“Two days and you need shaving again.” His voice was husky with need. “If I didn’t have other plans for tonight I’d do it right now but we’ll put it on the schedule. I love it when there’s nothing here between my tongue and your skin.”
He knelt between her thighs and ran both large hands over her body, shaping the hills of her breasts, the swell of her tummy, dipping into the creases where thigh and hip joined. His eyes followed the path of his hands, as if memorizing every inch of her.
Grace knew somehow tonight was different from the first time. From all the other times. There was an erotic charge in the air, making everything more…intense, filling her with a desire to hold every minute captive. To savor the delicious taste and feel of him. This was more than just hot, raw sex. This was like falling into a hot pool of sensuality. Of eroticism. And never being able to climb out. She was getting in way over her head again and knew she couldn’t do a thing about it. Or wanted to.
He stroked another strawberry across first one nipple, then the other and it was like the feathery touch of brushes against her pebbled tips. The wet heat of his mouth as he licked every drop of the chocolate confection sent lightning bolts of heat stabbing through her directly to her cunt. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together to compress the increased fluttering in the walls of her vagina but his body between her legs kept them wide apart.
Ben took his time, sharing the berries with her before painting the chocolate on the hard tips of her breasts. He was right about the helplessness, except this time it felt different. As if by submitting to him she was actually the one in control.
Whoa! What was that all about?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt is the world’s oldest living published author of erotic and spicy romance. A graduate of the University of Michigan with double majors in English and History, her earlier careers include agent and manager in the music industry, public television, associate vice president of university advancement, public relations, and economic development.
She is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award winner for best BDSM book of the year, a USA Today Bestselling author and winner of the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Literature.
She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times, The Huffington Post and numerous other national and international publications. She is also the Authors After Dark 2014 Author of the Year.
“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.” (Romance Junkies)
Learn more about her and read her novels here: