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Dorian Sorenson agreed to take on his longtime family friend’s daughter, Demitra, as an intern. Hell, Stephen Davis had been his father’s friend for years up to his father’s death and he had continued to be close to Dorian. Why not do him the favor? Except, from the moment he sees the girl, now nineteen and definitely ‘growing up’ he’s faced with a huge problem. Huge. The girl might be eleven years his junior but just looking at her shy sexiness has him trapped in an agonizing need that won’t even let him seek relief elsewhere. His body wants her and no one else. And it’s going to have her, whether Dorian likes it or not.
After a torrid but brief kiss in his office, three months into Demitra’s internship, Dorian is left fighting feelings of extreme guilt. It’s very clear that they’re attracted to each other and that Demitra needs him as badly as he needs her but she’s still a young girl working for him. A young girl who happens to be his friend’s daughter. Dorian is determined to fight this need for her, whatever the cost. What he doesn’t count on is one night, one benefit, and Demitra looking unbelievably tempting on the arm of another man. The bets are off when possessiveness strikes hard within Dorian and only a higher power can help them both because now he plans to claim her. Thoroughly.
Genre Erotica/ Contemporary Romance
Publication Date July 29th 2012
“Dorian, I swear to fucking God, what is wrong with you?” Demi demanded.
In all the time she’d been working for me, I’d never heard her curse. Her doing so now made everything that much worse. My dick popped to its full length so hard the fucker almost knocked me off my feet and brought me to my knees.
He nearly ripped through my pants, too.
“Demi, unless you want to cause a scene, I suggest you not fight and follow me.”
Not that I had any real idea where I was taking her, only that it had to be anywhere away from Keith.
Demi hissed quietly as we passed a group of people on the large patio outside. “You’re already causing a scene, you idiot! You don’t think everyone is seeing my boss dragging me away from the party right now?”
She continued to grumble under her breath as we went down the stairs. My eyes locked on the entrance to the massive labyrinth that was before us.
Needing to get us somewhere private, I kept on going, her arm in my grasp the whole way. Demi let me lead her. That is, until we were inside the entrance of the labyrinth, the tall green “walls” on either side of us.
“Let go.” She pulled her arm roughly out of my grip now that we were away from prying eyes.
I let her, but as out of my senses as I was, I made damned sure that I was standing between her and the way out.
She huffed, looking lickable in her fury. “This is the last time I’m going to ask: what is your problem?”
That slit baring her thigh made me want to grab, bite, lick and suck every inch of her skin.
And the heels. The fucking heels.
“Are those red heels?” I asked, hearing how out of breath I was.
Demi looked at her feet, an adorably confused expression crossing her face. “Uh...yeah.”
We were both panting harshly as we stared at each other.
“You look beautiful,” I blurted out, my voice low and raspy.
Demi stuttered, looking completely confused and out of it. “I...I...thank you?”
It made no sense to me how this girl could have me so out of control. Two steps, I was in front of her. No thoughts, no premeditation, just uncontrolled movement. Four words out of my mouth followed after and the next thing I knew, I was cupping her face. “Demi, you’re so beautiful.”
One gasp from her. Seven million warnings were going through my head. One undeniable truth above it all–the fact that I needed her–and I lost it again, pressing her back into the maze wall behind her.
Demi’s hands shot up, wrapping around my wrists. I told myself it was wrong, that my behavior was straight-up sexual assault, and that this girl could very well have me arrested for what I was doing.
Yeah. My body didn’t listen to any of that.
Her lips were soft against mine, her breath wet and tantalizing. So much more delicious than I remembered. I groaned deep in my chest, lust pounding through me painfully. Self-preservation didn’t matter anymore.
Nothing outside of her skin against mine did.
I felt how she tensed, the momentary urge she had to fight me. I didn’t let her. Flicking her bottom lip with my tongue had become my new addiction.
A flash went through my head, an image of her lip being replaced by her nipple. I started tonguing, sucking, and brought her closer. I was so hard there was no fucking way I could think past it.
Demi let out a sound that made my skin burn hotter. I purposely kept my eyes slightly open, watching her eyelids fluttering as I tilted my head. In one move, I thrust my tongue in between her lips, moaning while my brain imagined that it was my cock.
Said cock throbbed dangerously. I could hear its warnings. I was too damn close. Too much on edge.
Demi let go of my wrists, her hands latching onto my tuxedo jacket’s lapels. Our tongues connected and slid. The pleasure had my eyes rolling back, lids drifting closed.
I let go of her face. My hands slid around her waist and brought her closer still.
She pulled on me, closing whatever miniscule distance had been left between us. My mind took off, fighting past the pleasure enough to rush through ideas, possibilities of where I could take her and how fast we could get there.
I needed her wet little mouth and willing body all to myself.
Demi gasped, pulling her lips away from mine. “Dorian.”
I almost fucking whimpered, my mouth too addicted and needing more of her skin in it. I latched onto her jaw, sucking lightly and nearly dying from how she mewled into my ear.
“Dorian...wha...oh...oh, God. What are you...”
I raised my head just enough to press my mouth against hers again. Small moans leaked out of her, mixing with my own.
Her tongue was nothing short of sensual as it slid against mine, reconnecting. Shackling me. Her breath escaped her in tiny gasps and slid into me, adding to the erotic haze that had me prisoner.
I tightened my hold on her waist, needing to feel her against every inch of me and damning the fact that there was fabric in the way.
Demi whimpered my name again as I pulled lightly on her bottom lip. “Ungh.” She groaned, letting me tilt her head back so I could suck lightly on the tip of her tongue.
“Fuck, Demi. You taste unbelievable.” I panted against her lips, hands tightening and threatening the material of her dress.
Demi’s voice was all breathless and just downright sexy. “Dorian, wait.”
I actually had to fight back the urge to pout as she pushed lightly on my chest. Two things that pissed me off and made me scowl as I took in my own behavior.
I forced myself to take at least one step away from her, gritting my teeth and somehow finding the will to let her go. Then, I yelled at myself as I watched her pant while adjusting her dress.
It’s been four months since Demitra Davis ended up entangled in the most complicated –albeit gratifying- situation she’d ever thought to find herself in. A situation she isn’t keen to get herself out of. Her now ex-boss, Dorian Sorrenson, is too delicious for her to want to pull herself away from. Yes, he’s the son of her father’s dead best friend. Yes, he was her boss for a few months of her life. Yes, he’s also almost eleven years older, but there was no way Demitra could stop herself from being attracted to him. And that was all before that one night in which Dorian carried her away from the arms of another man and branded her as his.
Dorian has just returned from a month long business trip, and thoughts of telling her father are the farthest from Demitra’s mind. No, she’s missed her man and has to get her hands on him. Their passion continues to escalate as well as the feelings they both have for each other. What neither of them planned on was the spite of Dorian’s ex-lover and how far she’d be willing to go to stir up problems for the two of them. Demitra is worried that their burgeoning relationship won’t be able to hold up under the stress. What she doesn’t count on is Dorian’s feelings for her and how far he is willing to go in order to keep her as his.
Genre Erotica/ Contemporary Romance
Publication Date December 27th 2012
The water bottle slipped out of my hand for a nanosecond. I managed to catch it, drops shooting out of it and smacking my chin. Close to hyperventilating, I wiped it with the back of my hand.
“I asked you a question, Demitra. Answer me.”
I heard him walking closer. Heart still racing, I turned around and focused on him long enough to take in his expression. His face was hard, the look pissed and stoic all in one.
Alrighty. See, Dorian had a problem on his hands and he wasn’t even aware of it, yet. I was drunk enough to be just past the point of rational. And I was definitely more pissed than he was.
Dear lord was I pissed off. He was still advancing on me with that look that demanded answers. I’d just spent the night getting drunk over him to try to ignore how shitty I felt because of him.
I turned to stare at the fridge with a bored expression. He stopped right next to me. I could feel him along every inch of my body. His form dominated my peripheral vision.
I didn’t even blink.
Slowly, purposely, I lifted the water bottle back to my lips and took another sip. He didn’t move, I didn’t respond, but I heard his breathing getting rougher. His eyes traveled the length of my body so intently that I felt it like a tickle. I kept drinking my water, each sip slower than the last. Eventually, I was going to have to blink, but annoying him had become my main priority.
This time, I didn’t even try and deny it. Nor did I bother replying to him. His arm came into my line of vision, pressed against the fridge as he leaned down toward me. His nose brushed my cheek softly, setting off a round of shivers I barely held back.
“You look so sexy in that dress.”
Oh, fuck. I was too drunk to handle his husky voice saying things like that to me. Self-control was diminishing quite rapidly. I needed to stay freaking strong, damn it!
“Tell me where you went, baby.”
“Out with my friend.” Fucking shit, I wasn’t supposed to respond to him.
Dorian hummed and ran his lips across my skin. My knees nearly liquefied and took my legs with them. “I can smell the alcohol on you.”
Shit. He could?
“How much did you have to drink?”
Don’t remember. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here. I’m fine. I had tons of fun.”
“Did you now?” The ass was still leaning against my fridge, all insolence and expectation.
“Yup.” I screwed the cap back on my bottle and nudged him out of the way so I could open the fridge. I bent down, placing the bottle inside. Dorian stepped behind me. The feel of his hands circling my hips made me gasp. When he pulled my ass into his crotch, arched his back, and fucking groaned…well, I bit my lip, grabbed onto the side of the fridge, and moaned like a harlot.
One hand slid around to my lower abs. His fingers slowly curled inward, anchoring me further to him. He urged my upper body up and pressed my back to his front. He was trembling, barely holding himself back from doing God’s knew what. He nuzzled the side of my face. I inhaled, smelling the alcohol on him for the first time.
“You’ve been drinking, too.”
He scoffed. “I was waiting for you for nearly two hours. You wouldn’t answer your fucking phone, and I was this close to sending a security team out to scour the city for you. Damn right I drank that bottle of Grey Goose you had hidden in your wall unit.”
He’d begun subtly rocking his hips into me, the movements barely discernible. I still felt them all over me. Without even realizing it, I was starting to melt into him, the heat in my veins rising. “Dorian,” I whined, my head resting against his shoulder. “That was the Magnum Grey Goose that—”
Dorian exhaled against my ear. On purpose, too, I could tell. Fucker.
“I know. I saw the cage. Real silver right?”
“Yes. And that almost cost a thousand dollars. It was meant to be Ang’s twenty-first birthday gift.”
“You still have the cage. I’ll have another one shipped in first thing tomorrow.” And with that, he set in, his lips opening and grazing my neck.
Oh, God. We were both drunk. It was official. Drunk, horny…
“Where’d you go looking so fuckable, baby?”
…and obviously out of our minds.
His voice was rough against my ear. The tips of his fingers ghosted down to my thighs, trailing beneath the edge of my skirt. “Just looking at you in this dress is making me feel like an animal. Do you have any idea how angry it makes me to imagine you out there, dressed like this, flirting with some other man?”
I’d been damn near Jell-O-status, liquefying all over him and his clothes. Until he opened his fucking mouth and had the nerve to say what I think he said. “Excuse me?” It didn’t matter that the fridge was in my way; I went rigid and pushed away from him as much as I could. “Is that what you think I was up to? Flirting with other men?”
Dorian caged me in, hands on either side of the fridge. His face was harsh as he answered me. “You’re young, you’re gorgeous, and I’ve been disappointing you since I got back from my trip. Why wouldn’t you go out there and find someone else, Dem?”
I almost slapped him, pulled his hair, and gouged his eyes out. Growling, I pushed at his chest. “Fuck you! Just fuck you. I—fuck this shit. I’m too drunk to deal with you right now.” For his own sake, I attempted to push and get away from him. I managed to get around him and began heading for the living room.
About the Author
N. Isabelle Blanco was born in Queens, NY (USA). At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.An avid reader in her teens, her fascination with Japanese anime eventually led her to the universe of fan fiction, which became her on-again, off-again hobby for the next ten years. During that time she amassed a following of fans that, by her own admission, she would never be able to live without. It was those fans who encouraged her to step beyond the fan fiction realm and try her talent in the publishing world. N. Isabelle Blanco now has three novellas and two full-length novels under her belt, and spends her days working as an author, web programmer, marketer, and graphic designer. That is when she isn’t handling her “spawn”, as she calls her son, and brainstorming with him about his future career as a comic book illustrator.
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