In Forty 2 Days we
cheered as we learned of Lana's opportunity for a second chance to
put things right with our wounded hero, Blake. We read with joy at
the news of baby Sorab's birth, and with tension in our bodies as the
spirited Lana fought and finally overcame the might of Blake's
powerful family to win the heart of the man she adored.
But
Lana still needs answers to many burning questions?
The secrets
are many and tangled? Will she get the answers she seeks?
Blake
finally lays it on the line to Victoria, and declares his true love
for Lana, but will that be the end of the matter?
Then there
is the re-appearance of Marcus.
Can Lana keep her resolve and
overcome all obstacles to claim her man forever?
Besotted is the third book in the Billionaire
Banker series,
This book is based on Blake and Lana, dealing
with their past, present and future. So where do I start, this book
is wrote beautifully. Like the other ones in the series. This series
is a quick read, but worth reading. There is something captivating in
her book’s they have you hooked, you want, need more to read. She
manages to bring the passion and lust of Lana and Blake on the pages.
There is little drama in this book, nothing that
twist and turns you into confusion, lots of questions answered. I was
disappointed with the end, it just seem to stop.
If you’re like me love's rich men, hot sex then
this book is for you enjoy.
‘What about BDSM?
Are you going to teach me something about that?’
He looks at me over the rim of his glass. ‘Why?
Are you interested in being a submissive?’
‘I don’t know. I could be. What is
it?’
‘It’s a game.’
‘I like games. Start me off and I’ll
tell you if I like it.’
He stops smiling, his eyes change, darken. Very
deliberately he pushes his glass of orange juice to the middle of the
table, reaches for the carton of milk and holding it right in front
of him, slowly tips it sideways until the milk in it pours onto the
table. I watch the puddle grow on the table. At some
point well before the carton is empty he stops pouring. I lift
my eyes from the spill and look at him. His eyes are
expressionless, watchful. The silence stretches. I break
it. ‘Well?’
‘Clean it up,’ he says.
‘What?’
‘I don’t need to repeat myself, do I? It
is a punishable offense.’
For a moment I feel confused. Was this the
thing that has everybody hot up the collar? Do I want to be his
little slave? The answer is obvious and immediate. I
don’t. Definitely not. But I’ll let it play a little
more and see where this little game goes. I turn towards the
paper towels.
‘Not with the paper towel.’ His voice
cracks like a whip.
I turn towards him slowly. Our eyes
clash, a look of impatience about his. What does he want me to
do? Clean the table with my tongue? The thought is
unsexy, off-putting. ‘With what, then?’
He leans back and folds his arms across his chest.
‘With your sex.’
And suddenly I am wet. The idea is shocking
but incredibly, unbelievably erotic. I hook my thumbs into the
scrap of white lace around my hips, push it all the way down and step
out of it.
‘Give them to me.’
I bend down to retrieve them and walk towards him.
I look into his eyes as I drop my bunched up knickers into his
outstretched hand. He puts them into his trouser pocket.
I hop onto the table with my legs apart so he can
see what I am doing, I bend forward and flattening my thighs, slowly
drag my sex across the liquid. Something flashes in his eyes.
The milk is cold on my warm skin. When I have swept
myself across the spill I stop and look to him.
He nods slowly. ‘You,’ he says, and
there is a touch of admiration in his voice, ‘are an excellent
pupil. You never do more than what you are instructed to do.’
I say nothing. Just hold myself in that
position.
‘Now spread your legs,’ he orders.
lives in England, in an old 19th century romantic
cottage surrounded by a magical garden filled with fruit and walnut
trees. When she is not feeding words into her laptop, she is
either curled up in bed with a box of chocolates and a good read, or
lost in a long walk in the woods. Especially on moonlit nights. And
often with the man of her dreams.
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