(Addicted To You, #1)
Publication date: September 14th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance
It started innocently enough. Beautiful Harper gave Sean those eyes… those eyes that meant, yes, take me. But Harper didn’t know Sean’s secrets… She didn’t know that he liked it rough.
More than rough. He liked to dominate. To punish. To degrade. It was the only way that the black hole in his soul wouldn’t swallow him up.
He would push her a little too far, and she would run. They all ran, eventually.
But that’s not what happened… when he put his hands around her throat and squeezed, Harper moaned. When he told her to stay away, she didn’t listen, misbehaving until she got spanked. When he took out the handcuffs, there was excitement in her eyes, mixed with a little fear.
The doe-eyed redhead liked it. More than that, she wanted it. She said so, time and again.
That’s the thing about sexy strangers, though… you never know what they’re hiding. And Harper is carrying a burden so heavy that even Sean’s secrets pale in comparison.
This book is Book 1 out of 2 in the Addicted To You duet. At approximately 50,000 words, it ends in a cliffhanger. As a dark romance, it touches several sensitive topics, but contains no cheating. Book 2 will end in a happily ever after.
Sean paused. “Are you certain you want to go in?” he asked.
He turned to look at her to see her swallow. Harper nodded. He couldn’t get a read on her.
“Speak up,” he said. “Was that a ‘yes, sir’?”
Harper fluttered her lashes and looked down. “Y—yes. Yes, sir,” she said
Fuck, the things she could do. “You make me so fucking hard,” he said. Her eyes shot open.
Sean took her hand and led her through the heavy wooden door. It closed behind them with a loud click. He removed his bowtie and watched her survey the room. “Get undressed.”
Without a pause, she started to kick off her shoes.
“Leave them on,” he instructed. Sean sat back in a black leather seat. Harper peeled off the dress and let it fall to the floor.
As she stepped out of the fallen latex, in just a lace thong and matching bra, he couldn’t believe her dimensions. She had a tiny waist, a wasp’s waist, as if she’d been in waist-training for years. Her hip bones jutted out like fins before angling down to slender thighs and shapely calves.
“Right now, right here in this room, you exist solely for my pleasure,” he said. “You’re here to please me in whatever way I see fit.” He stopped himself, aware of his quickened breath. Sean raised a brow. “Get on with it.”
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Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.
Vivian’s lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: “Soulmates never die.”
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