Cheyenne Hernandez

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Sarah    Bailey
“This isn't a story of love, sunshine and roses. This is a story of betrayal, murder, lust and deceit.”
Sarah Bailey, Betrayal

“Her good eye, though bloodshot and tired, gleamed with mischief. He saw through the bruises adorning her. She was beautiful and conniving.
“Are you asking me to run away with you?” She intertwined her bandaged fingers with his the same way she had at the club. He felt control of the situation transferring into her hands as it had then.”
Armada West

Tatiana Vedenska
“When you were dealing with a person separated from everybody by an invisible thick glass wall - like a bubble where he didn't let anybody in - every little thing mattered.”
Tatiana Vedenska, Two Months and Three Days

Tamuna Tsertsvadze
“This world belongs to the weird ones, and the weird ones become kings.”
Tamuna Tsertsvadze, Galaxy Pirates

Olivia Parker
“Do it again," she whispered, tilting her head, offering her mouth to him.
Staring down at her swollen bottom lip, he gave it a little lick.
A small, soft moan sounded from the back of her throat.
"Ask nicely," he whispered.
"Please." She gave a lock of hair at his neck an impatient tug.
He came undone. Delving his tongue inside her sweet mouth, he walked her backward until her back met one of the pillars. With one hand cradling the back of her head for protection, his other hand held her hip immobilized, under his control. Rhythmically, he sank his tongue into her honeyed depths, mimicking the motion of making love.
She whimpered, the sound a desperate plea. Her fingers threaded through the damp hair at the base of his neck; her other hand clutched at his forearm.
He squeezed her hip, his long fingers digging into her soft bottom as he rocked her into his arousal.
For several moments, she ground her hips against him as he plundered her mouth. The kiss was no longer enough. He wanted to take her. Right here, right now. His fingertips trailed down the back of her neck to caress her shoulder, her arm, her breast. His breath hitched when she pushed herself more firmly into his hand. She wanted his touch. He complied of course: he would never deny her. Gently he kneaded her through the fabric of her dress, purposely passing his thumb over the hardened tip. She made a small sound of pleasure that nearly pushed him over the edge.
The manor, the rain, the mud disappeared. Reason and practicality were momentarily suspended. Nothing mattered in those moments. Nothing but the ever-escalating power of their passion.”
Olivia Parker, To Wed a Wicked Earl

year in books
Neal Gr...
110 books | 50 friends

Gretchen
309 books | 12 friends

Rachel ...
308 books | 79 friends

Zachary
281 books | 43 friends

Shelby ...
69 books | 86 friends

Joy Vol...
281 books | 28 friends

John Ha...
42 books | 16 friends

Annie M...
78 books | 116 friends

More friends…



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