His Absolute Orders — Cerys Du Lys
After an impromptu evening photography session with billionaire CEO Asher Landseer and the spur of the moment passion that followed, Jessika severely regrets what she's done. Everything was wonderful, romantic, absolutely perfect, but now Asher wants nothing to do with her.
She thought they had a connection--they must have--but none of this changes the fact that Asher is married. Despite his wife acting cold and distant and always being away, Asher seems deeply ashamed of what he's done.
Can Jessika apologize? Will Asher accept what's happened and forgive her, and hopefully himself, too? And what of his wife, Beatrice? Asher attempts to end everything in one fell swoop by ordering his driver, Jeremy, to bring Jessika home in the morning.
Except what will happen if she refuses to leave?
*EXCERPT*
But, why? I asked myself this question over and over again. What was wrong? Why did he want me gone? His marriage, yes, but he must have wanted it, too, must have wanted to sleep with me. His photography wasn't of the needlessly erotic sort, at least as far as he mentioned, but the pictures he took of me were racy enough to show up in any men's magazine. Though, of course I didn't quite think I was attractive enough to pull something like that off, but Asher did. Or, he said he thought I was. I needed to remind myself that there was a big difference between what someone said and what someone actually thought.
I needed to do a lot of things, and yet in the warm, morning light, a hint of sunshine tingling across my bare forearm as it peeked out from beneath the blanket, I couldn't think of any of them. I wanted to lay there all day and forget everything. I wanted to remember last night with Asher, to relive it, to memorize every part of it so I would never forget.
My body shifted beneath the blanket, fidgeting. Everything felt so nice. The carpet tickling across my skin and the feel of the quilted blanket caressing across my stomach and the tops of my thighs and between them and on my breasts. Without thinking about it, I let my hand nestle between my legs.
I wanted Asher to return, apologize, whisper adorations into my ear and beg for my forgiveness, then take me again right then and there in his guest house, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I thought of it, though. More and more, how he would touch me, what it would feel like. The expression on his face and the love in his eyes. My body tensing under his exquisite touch...
(This enticing story of romance and submission is ~9,800 words in length)
She thought they had a connection--they must have--but none of this changes the fact that Asher is married. Despite his wife acting cold and distant and always being away, Asher seems deeply ashamed of what he's done.
Can Jessika apologize? Will Asher accept what's happened and forgive her, and hopefully himself, too? And what of his wife, Beatrice? Asher attempts to end everything in one fell swoop by ordering his driver, Jeremy, to bring Jessika home in the morning.
Except what will happen if she refuses to leave?
*EXCERPT*
But, why? I asked myself this question over and over again. What was wrong? Why did he want me gone? His marriage, yes, but he must have wanted it, too, must have wanted to sleep with me. His photography wasn't of the needlessly erotic sort, at least as far as he mentioned, but the pictures he took of me were racy enough to show up in any men's magazine. Though, of course I didn't quite think I was attractive enough to pull something like that off, but Asher did. Or, he said he thought I was. I needed to remind myself that there was a big difference between what someone said and what someone actually thought.
I needed to do a lot of things, and yet in the warm, morning light, a hint of sunshine tingling across my bare forearm as it peeked out from beneath the blanket, I couldn't think of any of them. I wanted to lay there all day and forget everything. I wanted to remember last night with Asher, to relive it, to memorize every part of it so I would never forget.
My body shifted beneath the blanket, fidgeting. Everything felt so nice. The carpet tickling across my skin and the feel of the quilted blanket caressing across my stomach and the tops of my thighs and between them and on my breasts. Without thinking about it, I let my hand nestle between my legs.
I wanted Asher to return, apologize, whisper adorations into my ear and beg for my forgiveness, then take me again right then and there in his guest house, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I thought of it, though. More and more, how he would touch me, what it would feel like. The expression on his face and the love in his eyes. My body tensing under his exquisite touch...
(This enticing story of romance and submission is ~9,800 words in length)
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EDITIONS
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- Oct-2012
- eBook (Kindle)