Looking to spice up your Sunday night? Pulse, by Shady Grace, is just what you’re looking for! Need a teaser? Read on for the hot excerpt, and then click here to purchase your copy.
If Vera Cross really loved him, she would free him from his twisted hell.
For five years George loved her unconditionally.
For five years he imagined how it would feel to be inside her.
Vera’s presence made time stand still while he waited with as much patience as a shark catching that first scent of blood in the water. Her every move, every word, every look felt like an extension of his own body, his own mind, his very soul. She unleashed a burning craze in him every time he heard the click of her heels on the polished tiled floors. He couldn’t handle the loneliness any longer. Couldn’t bear to spend another night without her by his side.
“Tell me what you need, Mr. Bradley,” she said, her sexy voice making his pulse race.
I need you, Vera. He smiled to himself, knowing that if she gave him the chance he would make her happy … in every single dirty way.
The long sweep of her charcoal lashes cloaked the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Blue like a freshwater lake beneath a glacier, vivid against her alabaster skin and jet black hair. Ripe in all the right places, her body should’ve been replicated into a sculpture, for his eyes only. With endless curves and slopes to make a man hungry for action, she defined a cock-teasing goddess. He felt utterly compelled to lick the glossy leather of the plain black heels encasing her tiny feet.
He wanted it all.
He ached to fuck her so bad he could taste it. He wanted to be the man she remembered — not one she used and then discarded.
She taunted him with her sultry glances and cock-sucking lips. George closed his eyes, picturing her never-ending thighs in sheer black stockings, tight skirt hugging her delicious ass like a second skin. Every step she took resounded through his body as if she’d gripped his heart and lit fire to his soul. He wanted to lick her shapely legs all the way up to a pussy he imagined would taste like heaven to a man burning in Hell.
He hated himself for needing her with such desperation that he had to palm off every night to get to sleep. His madness was all her fault. She ignited it the moment she strutted into his lonely world.
“Are you doing well, Mr. Bradley?” Her eyes glinted with sexual deviousness.
He’d give her what she craved and what he so desperately desired. He had to. His life hung by a thread over his lust for her.
Remain calm. “Yes. Isn’t that what you want to hear?”
She smiled, giving a hint of perfect white teeth behind seductive, burgundy-painted lips. “If you’re speaking the truth. Remember, Mr. Bradley, honesty matters most here. Now, let’s begin in our usual fashion.”
Yes. In our usual fashion.
Under cover of darkness, surrounded by the scented paradise of her rose garden, George stood a few feet away from Vera’s room. He watched in brooding fascination as she undressed in a provocative manner, like an exotic dancer might lure her viewers, exposing soft flesh one scintillating inch at a time. Confident, sexy, she loved to tease him, and he stood on the edge of madness every time he had the pleasure of looking at her. He wondered if she knew he watched her with love and lust in his eyes. Watched her with possession in his soul.
If she wanted honesty, she’d get every naughty little detail.
Some might consider him crazy for loving her in his way, but he didn’t care. He adored her, and he’d own the spread of her thighs better than anyone else could. He’d spank her until her curvy ass displayed his palm print. He’d fuck her, like a hurricane ravaged a coastal town.