Love Letters Volume 1: Obeying Desire

by Ginny Glass, Maggie Wells, Emily Cale, Christina Thacher

Overview

Love Letters Volume 1 contains four hot short stories that will tempt you to submit to desire:

A Is for Assignment by Ginny Glass
Lane Heywood is the last person Cameron Isley wanted as his partner in an undercover investigation at a sex club. But with the sexy psychiatrist masquerading as his Domme, he'll have to submit to her erotic torment—and try to control his all-too-real lust.

B Is for Bondage by Christina Thacher
When Rachel Cooper begins BDSM lessons, she soon starts fantasizing about her instructor, Marc Thibaud. They're not supposed to have sex—until one lesson crosses the line…

C Is for Curious by Emily Cale
Mistress Rebecca Greer has had her eye on The Black Rose BDSM club's shy receptionist, so when Hilary "accidentally" interrupts one of her sessions, Rebecca decides to give her a taste to satisfy her curiosity.

D Is for Detained by Maggie Wells
He was the preacher's son; her parents owned the local sex shop. Sherry Adams and Tyler Prescott's attraction was forbidden when they were teenagers, but years later Deputy Tyler takes out his trusty handcuffs to show her just how good they could be together.

37,000 words

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781426895357
Publisher:	Carina Press
Publication date:	04/08/2013
Series:	The Love Letters , #1
Sold by:	HARLEQUIN
Format:	eBook
Pages:	384
File size:	394 KB

About the Author

By day, Margaret Ethridge is buried in spreadsheets. At night, Maggie Wells pens tales of people tangling up the sheets. The product of a charming rogue and a shameless flirt, you only have to scratch the surface of this mild-mannered married lady to find a naughty streak a mile wide. Maggie has a passion for college football, processed cheese foods, and happy endings. Not necessarily in that order.

Read an Excerpt

He refused to make any noise. She wanted him to cry out, though he was mystified as to how she'd be able to separate any sound he could make from the humming music of the club around them. He'd been at her mercy for too long, and he would take any win, no matter how small, in their ongoing war.

She was too off-limits. Having a woman he was so opposed to this close and dressed for sex worked at cross-purposes to his rebellion. He wanted her out of his sight, but only if that meant they were going at it with the lights off. He tried to control his arousal, but the evidence of how she affected him was painfully obvious in the constriction of his fly. His cock ached, throbbed with the depth of his racing heartbeat.

His arm muscles ached slightly—his restraints held his arms above his head. The leather around his wrists was loose enough that he could let his cuffs fall around his forearms if he stood on tiptoe. This let him wrap his fingers around the tethers they connected to, to brace for what was next. Holding out on responding gave him a measure of control, but gained him another crack of the crop. The pain was sharp, but he'd suffered worse.

"I asked you a question."

Cameron gritted his teeth and tensed when she came so close behind him that he could feel the press of her corseted breasts into his bare back. A nice side benefit of having to drag her along on this case was that their sessions gave him the most vivid sexual dreams he'd ever suffered through. Damn, it was hot in here.

He didn't feel like the woman brandishing a riding crop at him was his superior. The crop came up and over, settled against his throat. "There are people watching us." Her voice was so soft that he had trouble hearing her, but it still made him wince when she broke cover out in the open. He nodded, tamped down on the rebellion raring up inside him—he needed this cover to remain a solid one, and they'd spent weeks establishing it. Tonight was their first time on one of Club Limit's three center platform stages, all lit for show, 360-degree round for maximum viewing pleasure.

So he dropped his head, fell back onto his heels and committed to the job. He breathed deep, let his arms go slack, widened his legs and pushed his hips outward to emphasize the effect she was having on him. Because he was a good cop. Not because she looked so damned good in the corset. Not because he was protecting a green partner. Not because every nerve in his body was screaming for the friction of her fingers, her mouth, her slick, hot pussy.

A trickle of sweat ran down his temple, rolled from his jaw and dispersed into the fine sheen that already coated his bare chest. She skated a hand up over his damp stomach and undid the button of his jeans.

Because he was a good cop.

Yeah. Right.