Dark Desires is out TODAY!
Ready to meet your next book boyfriend? How about 22 of them?Prepare to ignite your nights with some of today’s hottest contemporary romance novels, starring the baddest of bad boys, bikers, billionaires, and more!Inside the Dark Desires omnibus collection, you’ll find over one million words of burning hot fiction from today’s NEW YORK TIMES, USA TODAY and International bestselling authors!
USA TODAY bestselling author Muffy Wilson
A low trilling sound came from his laptop. Devon rose to see what had triggered the alarm. He punched a few keys, swearing at the image that came on the screen.
There, in soft shadows, was Michele in his dungeon. He stared, transfixed, as she ran her fingertips along the leather straps of his floggers. When she picked up a paddle and slapped it across her palm, he nearly came. What the fuck was this girl doing in his dungeon? Not even Sylvie went in there, and she was the only one besides him with a key.
Shit, Michele had Sylvie’s keys. Which meant she also had access to the club. The situation was going from bad to worse. He had to get her out of that room—out of his house, if he could. The image of her slapping her hand with the leather-bound paddle wedged itself deep, refusing to depart no matter how much he tried.
He slammed his laptop closed and stormed from the room. He’d show Michele exactly what kind of boss she was dealing with. He was not to be trifled with, and if she was going to work for him, there were rules to follow. First of which was no entering his dungeon. Ever.
His bare feet made little sound as he stalked down the stairs and across the marble floors of his entryway. His long strides had him to the dungeon in a matter of seconds, not nearly enough time for him to collect his thoughts. His fingers trembled against the cool doorknob and he took a long drag of air to calm himself. It wouldn’t do to enter his dungeon upset. Not with what hung on the walls, nor with what was meticulously organized in a chest of drawers at the ready. Especially not with Michele in there.
His cock gave another twitch and he cursed his attraction to the girl. He’d long since grown out of being a teenager, but his crush never seemed to dissipate. If he didn’t get it together, Sylvie would have his hide for breakfast. Keeping an image of his housekeeper firmly in his mind, he resolved to deal with the intruder as he would anyone else—without emotion.
The door opened with barely a sound. The stupid girl hadn’t even bothered to lock it after herself. Strike two.
He slipped into the room without her noticing his entrance. Her attention was held on the wall opposite, where his collection of erotic art covered the entire space. On silent feet, he stepped forward, not wanting to alarm her, but also curious what she was doing. From his vantage point, she seemed to be studying each piece. Not merely glancing at one and then moving to the next, but taking the time to inspect each item. A slim hand, pale like he remembered, reached forward and gently removed a jade cock ring from its velvet-covered stand. Her fingertips skimmed the surface as her lips moved silently. What was she saying? What did she think of this room? So many questions raced through his mind, none of which he was certain he wanted to know the answer to.
There was so much he wanted to say to her, but his mind went blank. Words dissipated until all he could think of was, “Hello, Misha.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice and a small yelp escaped her lips. The little vixen whirled around to face him, stopping his breath. If possible, she’d grown even lovelier in the past six years. A confidence he didn’t remember exuded from her, tempered by something else. Something elusive, dangerous.
“You scared the hell out of me, Devon.” She gripped the cock ring between her fingers.
“That’s five thousand years old. Please don’t drop it.”
“This?” She held up the jade. “Seriously?”
He took the ancient piece from her and replaced it on the stand next to a Neolithic dildo made of stone.
“Seriously.” He avoided looking at her eyes, her face, those lips. Christ, he wanted to kiss those lips. To suck on them until they turned bright crimson, and then watch as she wrapped them around his aching cock. “No one’s allowed in here without my permission. I don’t remember granting you a special request.”
Her cheeks flushed a charming pink and she stammered an answer. Her Irish accent got stronger with each word.
“I, er, Sylvie’s instructions were to tour the rooms. She didn’t say not to open this door, but she also didn’t say to specifically see this room. I suppose since it was locked, I should’ve guessed, but—” She looked away with a rough shake of her head.
That hair. He wanted to wrap his hand in it and tug until her head bent backwards, revealing that slim neck. His teeth ached to sink into her skin, to tease her relentlessly.