KISSER OF DEATH by MHB is out now! Check out the dark contemporary romance, and be sure to grab your copy today!
Almost three years of despair.
Four beating hearts growing in pain.
Five lives forever changed.
Everything fell apart in the blink of an eye.
These days my own misery keeps me company.
I never thought this would be me—a twenty-four-year-old—stuck in a dead-end relationship.
Gone are the thrilling adventures with Harvey Stark.
Gone is his smile.
Gone is the sight of his dimples and the sparkle in his bright blue eyes.
He’s changed into a hollow version of himself and I’m just a shadow following him around our home.
Then I meet my new boss at a firm in Downtown Chicago. Damon Dreygon challenges me in ways I never knew existed and makes me believe in myself again. Our souls match instantly, and meeting Damon feels like a step toward peace.
Except it’s not. Because everyone grieves differently.
While one man refuses to touch me, the other won’t love me.
And I’m crawling through the crippling chaos, barely holding on . .
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I’m a pile of mush by the time he finally, finally moves his mouth close to mine. He’s going to kiss me.
This. Is. It.
He holds my chin firmly with one hand until no distance remains between our lips, and they touch. A heat wave hits my insides. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I’m afraid I’ll get addicted. Like a lighter flicking booze roaming through my bloodstream.
Damon captures my lips with his, hands holding my neck in place. My breasts touch his chest, removing the remaining gap between us.
We kiss and we kiss.
And it’s as if I’m about to go on a trip to the moon after jumping from a plane.
He never slides in his tongue. He just grasps onto my lips with his. But if I’m sinning, I want to brave the murky waters, so I tease my tongue slowly into his mouth, encouraged by his propelling groans.
He then puts pressure, an immense load of it, on my hips with his hand while the other still holds my neck in place.
I stop. I need to breathe. I can’t breathe.
He doesn’t have to tell me to stop looking at him with heart-shapes in my eyes. I know. I know I’m looking at him like he can hand me the world because it sure feels like it. It needs to stop.
He warned me. No catching feelings. No white picket fence.
Just sex. Just lust.
He doesn’t ask me why I pull away. He waits and waits as if he knows I’ll want more.
I kiss him, moaning when his tongue finally plays with mine. His mouth is so warm. He’s sinking lower on the couch, bringing down my body with him. I’m feasting on his mouth and he’s feasting on mine.
He takes and he takes, but oh God, does he give.
I can’t even think about what an orgasm with him would be like. We’re kissing and I’m ready to lose all sense of everything around me except for the man holding me captive.
I have to remember to leave my heart out of it.
About the Author
M . H . B . graduated law from a Canadian University. She loves spending time with her partner and her German Shepherd Dog. She has a passion for animals and enjoys the simple things in life: books, music, chocolate, sunny days, and overall wellness. When she is not writing, her mind is in another world, with a book in hand.
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