**BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY** Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

Mastered 2

Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender 

Authors: Avery Aster, Cynthia Sax, Emily Ryan-Davis, Evangeline Anderson, Jennifer Leeland, Karen Fenech, Madelynne Ellis, Opal Carew, Portia Da Costa, Ruby Foxx, Saskia Walker, T.J. Michaels
Publication date: April 21st 2015
Genres: Erotica, Romance

On the heels of the wildly popular New York Times and USA Today bestseller, MASTERED, we bring you MASTERED 2, ten more tales of sensual surrender, plus a bonus short story!
“11 AMAZING NEW EROTIC ROMANCE STORIES YOU’VE NEVER READ!”
These scorching erotic romance books, plus a bonus short story, are all brand-spanking new and never-before-released, until now! One-click this anthology today at a low pre-sale price of only 99 cents. This won’t last long.

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Excerpt

One Night With My Billionaire Master by Cynthia Sax

“You would never hurt me.” I know this in my soul.

“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you,” Logan makes one of his infamous vows, promises he’s been known to bend laws to keep. “You won’t regret your decision.”

We stand in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by people. I see only him, entranced by the emotion in his brown eyes, his passion, his need, and something more, something I don’t dare believe in.

“Was this my decision?” I muse. “Did I have a choice?” Or was this inevitable, our fate, our destiny?

“No, you didn’t have a choice.” Logan’s lips lift into one of his rare smiles. “Dance with me.” This is a command, not a request. He leads me onto the floor. “It’s expected.” He swings me into position, his maneuvering graceful and sure.

It is expected. In the past, he has arrived at events, sought me out for a dance, and then departed immediately after our exchange.

His focus on me means nothing. If I say this statement enough times, I might believe it. I bend my left arm, layering my limb over his. Logan clasps my right hand tightly. Our bodies come together and we move as one.

This isn’t the rigid proper waltz I learned at ballroom dance class. It is rolling and sensuous, like the undulation of muscle under skin. One, two, three. One, two, three. There’s no thinking, no talking, only feeling, reacting. Logan steps forward. I step back. He turns. I follow.

Our hips brush together, my skirt swirling around his black pants. I gaze at his sharp chin, firm lips, feeling delicate, womanly, trusting him to guide me, to keep me safe.  

Logan dips me and I fall back, confident he’ll catch me. “You’re exquisite.” His eyes gleam and he draws me upright, twirls me across the floor. If dancing is a sign of companionship, we’re ideally suited. I’ve never had a partner know me like he does, reading my abilities, fulfilling my wishes.

The music fades and he sweeps me toward the edge of the dance floor. Before the song ends, he’s concealed us in the crowd. “Escort me from the room.” He covers my hand with his. “As you’ve been instructed.”

My gaze darts upward. How does he know I’ve been given that order? “I can’t climb into the limousine with you,” I murmur, aware that we’re being watched. “People will gossip.”

“People already gossip.” Logan leans into me. “They see how we dance, speculate that we fuck as passionately.” His crudeness stimulates, rather than shocks me. “They suspect your sweet pussy is filled with my cum, that my love bites decorate the curve of your ass and my scent is on your skin,” he breathes into my hair and I warm, all over. “Everyone here knows you’re mine.”

I stare at him, my thoughts obliterated by his words.

“Looking at me with your fuck-me face won’t stop the gossip.” He chuckles softly.

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