He’s hard. He’s dangerous. He’s filthy.
Yet, somehow, he’s exactly what I crave.
Filthy Sex, an all-new dark, age-gap mafia romance from Serena Akeroyd is available now!
He was the last man I should turn to.
A forbidden taboo that no woman wanted to cross.
Worse still, he’s no one’s idea of a white knight.
But this pawn has no alternative.
I’m locked in a war that’s not of my making, and I’m tied to a destiny I have no say in.
For someone like me, Brennan O’Donnelly represents something intangible—safety.
A single promise unlocks options I didn’t dare dream of possessing...
A future.
A family.
He’s hard. He’s dangerous. He’s filthy.
Yet, somehow, he’s exactly what I crave.
Now I just need to make him see me for what I am—his Queen.
If he’ll have me.
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Excerpt
Most women might have disliked that, but I adored it. I loved the glares he shot at male patrons in the restaurant, I loved how he moved his chair so that we were in each other’s private space. I loved the hand he clamped to my thigh, and the way he stuck close to my side as if I was precious to him.
I loved it all.
And I wanted more.
I felt like a flower who’d been left to grow in a shady part of the garden, and who’d just been repotted in a sunny spot. As if, at long last, I could grow massive blooms, blossom how nature intended.
The best part?
This was now.
When he barely knew me.
What would he be like when we’d been together a while?
I almost shivered at the thought.
Of course, he noticed.
“Are you cold?”
I shook my head, watching him watch me in the mirror lining the elevator.
“Then why the shiver?” A filthy smirk creased his lips as he turned to me. “Thinking dirty thoughts?”
“Maybe,” I whispered, peering up at him, aware that I was encouraging him and wanting nothing more.
Somehow, I’d triggered this caveman-like response in him and I wasn’t about to stop.
With that in mind, I let my coat fall open, revealing the deep V of my blouse and the skirt I’d rucked up slightly so that it was short enough to raise eyebrows, never mind dicks.
When his gaze dropped to my tits, I knew that I’d be wearing low necklines for the foreseeable future, if not forever. His nostrils flared at the sight, the bag the maître d’ handed him as we were leaving fell to the floor with a dull thunk, and he reached over, cupping one of them even as he was charging forward, tangling our legs together as he pushed me into the back wall.
His other hand dropped down to my thigh, and his fingers, callused and rough, snagged on the silk stockings I wore, before he found gold in the form of actual flesh.
“I didn’t realize you were wearing thigh-highs,” he rumbled, his eyes on my tits still.
His fingers worked the lacy top of the stockings as I told him, “I’m not.”
He froze, then his gaze drifted to mine. “You’re wearing garters?”
My smile was wicked. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”
A growl escaped him as he moved back so he could grab the hem of my skirt and drag it up to my hips. His nostrils flared again when he saw I wasn’t wearing panties, and when his gaze caught on the belt around my waist, that shaped my slim curves, and kept the silk fripperies from tumbling down, I felt the disturbance in the air—like a thunderstorm was rumbling overhead.
He was a constant surprise, so I should have expected him not to react how I thought he would, but when he dropped to his knees and urged my thighs apart, a shocked breath escaped me even as I complied with his wishes.
One hand went to my calf, and he encouraged me to prop my heel on his shoulder, which gave him more room as he went to work on me. His lips unerringly sought my clit, and I didn’t bother staring down at him, just watched him in the mirrors as he ate me out like he hadn’t just eaten.
Like he was starving.
And God, so was I.
In barely no time at all, I went from being as dry as a bone to slick with arousal.
I hadn’t a clue what it was about him, just knew that he could get me this hot with a glance.
My body was accustomed to being used for sex, but I’d never been an active part of the event. My mind skipped out on things as if it was self-preservation. I was used to being fucked, but fucking in return was a treat.
While I’d dressed with respectability in mind, I’d also picked clothes I knew would turn him on, never expecting that he’d turn the cards on me.
About Serena
I’m a romance bookaholic and I won’t touch a book unless I know there’s a happy ending. This addiction is what made me craft stories that suit my voracious need for raunchy romance. I love twists and unexpected turns, and my novels all contain sexy guys, dark humor, and hot AF love scenes.
I write MF, Menage, and Reverse Harem (also known as Why Choose romance,) in both contemporary and paranormal. Some of my stories are darker than others, but I can promise you one thing, you will always get the happy ending your heart needs!
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Website: http://www.serenaakeroyd.com
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