Painted Love (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 63,004
1 Ratings (4.0)

[Siren Allure: Erotic Paranormal Romance, with F/F, Consensual BDSM, knife play, whipping, sex toys]

Layna Killian Hertz never breaks a promise. Now, a promise she made years ago is coming back to haunt her. It’s just a visit with an old boyfriend, but seeing the man she never quite got over could be painful. Perhaps it’s just the kind of pain she’s looking for.

Brendon Fordon has become the famous painter he always wanted to be. When his college sweetheart comes back into his life, he can’t resist the distraction of her company. She could be the only person who can save him. Will he be able to tell her his secret before it’s too late?

Can Layna heed the warnings all around her and stay away from the cursed man she loves, or will she enjoy the erotic torture? Will Brendon have to pay the ultimate price for his fame, or will Layna’s love be able to save them both?

A Siren Erotic Romance


Painted Love (MF)
1 Ratings (4.0)

Painted Love (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 63,004
1 Ratings (4.0)
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Cover Art by Jinger Heaston
Professional Reviews

4 CUPS: "Promises are something that Layla Hertz holds very dear, and it is the one thing that she will refuse to break. This time however keeping her promise could actually break her heart. He left Tennessee with a heavy heart, but Brendon Fordon had to follow his dream. His art is all he has, and the time has come for him to reveal the masterpiece that will make him famous. Layla made the promise to Brendon that if she was ever in New Orleans she would look him up, and it seems that time has come. Her best friend Wini warns Layla of the danger surrounding Brendon, but Layla is convinced that this time she can keep her emotions in check. Brendon tries to steel his heart against Layla's charms, but seeing her after so many years is a distraction he craves, and one that could possibly kill him. A woman scorned is a dangerous thing, especially when that woman is already dead. There are many layers to the connection between Layla and Brendon, and uncovering each one is at once tantalizing and terrifying. They have such a volatile relationship, you never know if the next move will be a strike or a kiss. BDSM is only one facet of the link they share, and one that I feel they play at more than embrace. Their passion however is all consuming and volatile, leaving no room for anything but pure excitement." -- Lototy, Coffee Time Romance

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He trailed the whip softly up and down her back, which was now completely on fire. The welts where the leather had landed throbbed. He set the whip down on the small of her back and bent down to kiss her shoulder. His kisses traveled over her back, her shoulders, her sides, and her ass. His soft kisses cooled every spot he had abused. She sighed shakily.

“You like that.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. She simply nodded.

He hovered over her on his hands and knees. He kissed the back of her neck softly, and she sighed. He clasped her chin in his hand and jerked her face around.

“You’ve done well so far.” He grinned and tweaked the tip of her nose lightly. She giggled. “Roll over.”

Her back was aflame, and the velour of the bedspread prickled her back like thousands of pins. Her skin crawled as if it were alive.

He lowered his strong body gently onto hers. He still wore his pants, and his glorious erection pressed against her inner thigh. He cradled her face in his hands and brushed her hair back from her forehead.

He kissed her softly, slowly, sweetly. She brushed her hands through his long, dark hair. He kissed her lips, her chin, her neck. His kisses traveled down her body. He lingered on her breasts, licking and sucking first one nipple, then the other. He kissed her stomach and her thighs. She wriggled and sighed softly. He buried his face between her legs, and she moaned.

His mouth was fervent. His tongue was a potent weapon that slid along her folds and flicked her clit. She squealed. He circled her clit with his tongue, and she squirmed. He tongued her and sucked her and licked her until she groaned. The lips of her pussy fluttered in anticipation for her orgasm. Then he stopped.

“No!” she wailed.

He grabbed the whip from the foot of the bed and brought it down across her body. The leather caressed her hip, her stomach, her breast, and the very tips stung her shoulder. She screamed and arched off the bed as a powerful orgasm pulsed through her. Her entire body throbbed with white-hot heat. He leaned over her and licked the stripe forming across her flesh from her hip to her shoulder. She writhed and wriggled as his tongue tickled her sensitive flesh.

He turned her over gently and grabbed her hips, lifting them into the air. The next phase of delicate terror began. A series of sharp shocks trailed up and down her back. After a dozen or more of these, soft kisses covered her skin, making her shiver with delight. The beating continued soft and hard, attack and caress until the welts on her back were layered one upon the other. She felt whole and fragmented, calm and excited, pain and numbness as she was pulled further and further into his madness. With every crack of the whip on her skin, she hoped it was the last strike, and as he caressed and kissed her wounds, she wished for another blow. She waxed and waned with pain and delight until they blurred into one unnamable feeling.

When she could take no more, everything stopped. She lay there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, shivering with anticipation of the next blow or kiss, whichever it happened to be. She was hot and wet and hungry for more.

Both his hands were on her shoulders. They trailed softly down her back, barely whispering on her skin. The smooth, soft sensation sent electric heat through her body, and she let out a ragged sigh. His hands came to rest on her slender hips, and he shifted his weight behind her.

He slid inside her slowly, and she let out a soft moan. His movements were agonizingly slow. He seemed to be savoring every inch of her. The slow pace was torture for her, more than the whips could ever have been. She tried to thrust backward against him, but he clicked his tongue and held her hips firmly. Her huff of frustration morphed into a moan as he slid slowly and deeply into her. Her need for release increased with every slow, rhythmic push. She grew closer and closer to ecstasy, but his slow, soft movements kept her right on the edge of the abyss. Her legs started to shake beneath her, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

She pushed her hips backward, driving his cock deep into her, and finally had the release she needed. Wave after wave of heat washed over her body as every muscle locked. Her entire body throbbed from pain and from pleasure. As the heat started to subside, he pumped into her, driving himself deep. And again she fell over the edge of reason. Again she convulsed around his hard shaft. She wailed like a wounded animal. And still he continued thrusting into her. Her arms threatened to give out. It was too much. She tried to scramble away from him, but he held her hips tightly, pulling her back onto his shaft. He pumped in and out of her faster, harder, faster, harder.

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