Publication date: March 15th 2019
Genres: Erotica, Romance
Four Doms who have never met their match, meet Samantha.
Obsession over obligation.
Pleasure over pain.
Submission over sensibility.
Courage over consequences.
She died. Well almost. And still, Samantha Hunter wanted more. More of what, she didn’t quite know, but she’d been searching for it forever. She definitely was not looking for a walking complication like Oleg Balashov.
With a commitment to an arranged marriage, there was no room for love in Oleg’s life, no time for submissive beginners who needed training, no need for anything more than the simple clarity of a mutually beneficial transaction. His fellow Doms were the only people worth counting on. Then Samantha walked into his club.
Even in Paris, the daughter of a United States Senator doesn’t belong with a Russian mafia prince, but she’s a fearless and inexperienced submissive about to rewrite all the rules for the Masters at Club Duval.
Contemporary Polyamorous Romance. Slow burning it up with three standalone books in the upcoming Unmatched Series.
When they walked into Club Duval, Henri was already pouring shots for Ivan and Paolo. He still wore his scrubs, and in this place of pain and pleasure, Samantha had to admit, his attire offered him an ominous quality. That face, however, was purely angelic with soft gray eyes that rounded at the corners, looking like they were questioning the very meaning of life. His smile told a different story of carnal knowledge to which no angel should ever be associated. In the background of this contradiction incarnate, there was a smattering of workers going about their prep-work for the coming evening under the supervision of a slender middle-aged man.
Paolo relaxed against the back of the barstool and raised his glass to them as they came closer. “Look who’s here.”
Henri grinned. “So you made it a whole day together, and neither of you chickened out.”
She watched Oleg’s expression curiously, wondering how he would react to Henri’s teasing. It was a surprise to her when only a small chuff of a laugh escaped his lips. He turned to Sam and asked for her coat and bag, which she’d been lugging on her bent arm. The bag he settled on the floor, and a waitress took the coat toward the coat room without delay.
“Would you like a drink?” Ivan asked, getting up to pull out a barstool for her. Those obsidian eyes locked in her direction, and his gaze covered her like an oil slick.
She couldn’t help but be a little intimidated, but she found her voice anyway. “Yes,” she said and took a seat. “But I think I should probably have something a little less mind blitzing than straight vodka shots.”
Henri ducked below for a moment and then held up a carton of cream. “You can handle a White Russian, can’t you?”
She reddened. That was in fact the biggest question of all.
Henri smiled and began to mix the drink.
As the men continued their conversation about the football match playing silently on the small TV in the corner of the bar, Samantha swept her gaze around the room. Though the windowless club didn’t hint of the early hour, the vibe was still markedly less mysterious amongst these men and their casual rapport. The mood was much lighter than she’d expected, not that she’d really known what to expect from any part of the afternoon. She definitely hadn’t expected to find Henri behind the bar. She swiveled back toward him, feeling like her snarky self again. “So, Henri, are you working on a second career slinging drinks?” The smarty-pants grin that went so well with pithy one-liners flew right off her lips when he placed her drink on the bar. The creamy-white liquid swayed just slightly in a shallow porcelain bowl.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I think you know what it is. I also think you know where you are…and who you are with,” Henri said and pushed the bowl a little closer.
“And you certainly know what to do with it.”
Sam looked them all over, searching for the lighthearted expressions that had filled their faces moments ago. Paolo folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head a bit. They were all silent now, all looking back at her.
This was a test. She was certain of it. But Sam had thought she was all fed up with tests. Wasn’t that why she wasn’t home right now studying for her exam? Only that bowl of spiked cream mocked her as much as all of their expectant gazes. If this was a test, she knew the correct answer, and the one thing Samantha always liked to be was right.
It was also a dare.
She could walk right out of there and never look back. No one was stopping her. She’d driven herself here, and her car was tucked neatly into a space just across the street. She suspected that was all part of the test as well. If she did this thing they all seemed to be waiting patiently for, it was because she had chosen to do it. If she left, that would be her choice as well. Boundaries had been presented, and she would need to expose herself to the glaring truth about what she wanted to do about it.
Samantha tried to rationalize the whole idea, about the reason she leaned forward and dipped her head toward the bowl. As her tongue extended into the cool liquid, she decided it wasn’t that complicated. She liked their hungry looks and meant to see them fed.
She dabbed at the white Russian cocktail a few times and couldn’t resist seeking out any trace of approval in Oleg’s expression. The soft nod of his head sent a ridiculous shiver over her. A smile eased onto her lips, and she stroked deeper into the bowl, flicking her tongue into the cream with a slow curl.
“Chérie, surely you can do better than that,” Henri said in almost a whisper.
Samantha slowly pushed her stool back and away from the bar. She was nearly effervescent with the knowledge that indeed, she could do better, a lot better.
Alyssa believes that when characters speak to you, you’ve got to listen. She’s been all ears and writing stories in all lengths since childhood.
She writes erotic romance in all lengths, having been featured in the notable anthologies of Best Women’s Erotica, edited by Violet Blue and several from Rachel Kramer Bussel. With her proclivity for the ménage genre, Alyssa is often recognized for weaving complexity and emotional depth into her characters and plots.
Alyssa has more than several full length novels under her belt and no two stories are the same. For Alyssa, it’s much more fun to try something new. Read more about Alyssa Turner and preview her published works on her blog.
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