Archive for the ‘Avril Ashton’ Category

Fall Reads Friday: Avril Ashton

(Watch Me) Break You

 

Run This Town, BK #1

 

They’re in a war for control of the streets, but love will be the ultimate prize.

 

rsz_watchmebreakyou_4_-_copyHere comes trouble…

Men. Women. Drugs. Dima Zhirkov’s favorite things. Add in the element of danger and he should be right as rain. But not today. It’s not working, hasn’t for a long time. He’s grasping at the flimsiest of straws to prove he’s indeed strong enough to run his streets. Until he sets eyes on him. In the midst of a room full of strangers, Dima is drawn to a man as cold and dangerous as he’s beautiful. Captivated, Dima embarks on a ruthless campaign to get his new toy into bed.

Here comes the danger…

Xavier “X” Storm is content to pull the strings while someone else handles the day to day dealings of his gang, The Rude Boys. He’s after what Dima holds closest—the Coney Island streets. He contracts out the job of killing the Russian, except Dima isn’t that easy to kill. When he suddenly shows up in X’s path, tempting him to indulge in the dirtiest play, he finds Dima isn’t all that easy to shake, either. His cocky attitude and rough submission tempts X to go where he’d vowed to never return, and they plunge head first into an affair fueled by possessive obsession.

Run for cover

Sex and pain Dima can handle, and X delivers the most depraved kind. Their connection is explosive, their games addictive, but Dima can end it whenever he wishes. He doesn’t see that X is breaking him down, giving Dima everything he wants and even more than he ever thought to need. By the time he realizes who X is and what he wants, Dima is raw and bullet-riddled. It’s run or fight. And Dima doesn’t back down. Neither does X.

Warning: Includes strong BDSM elements, and reference to rape and sexual abuse.

 

EXCERPT

 

“This little game that we play…” He paused when his throat burned.

“Is it, Rush? Is it a game?”

Down on his knees, Dima looked up and up into fathomless eyes. They trapped him enough that he forgot to bristle at that stupid nickname. Rush. Because he was Russian.

The pad of one finger touched his throat, slid down. He swallowed, but he had no saliva. He blinked to clear the haze over his eyes.

“Is it a game, this, what we do? This is how you play?”

Of course it was. He liked his toys. His drinks. His drugs. His women. His men too. Like the one who had him on his knees. This was Dima. The crazy little games that he played. He could leave at any time. Tied up as he was he couldn’t move except to flick a glance at the door flung wide open for anyone to see him beg to be used. But he could leave. End it. Because that’s what he did. He played. And then he walked away.

“Your game.” The hand in his hair moved then reappeared in front of his face holding another length of rope. “This is your game. You stalking me, begging me…”

Dima didn’t beg, not unless he was on his knees. He didn’t remember begging.

“You always in my fucking shadow making it impossible for me to do anything, cock blocking. That’s your game? The woman you just saw me with. The one you would’ve hurt if I hadn’t rescued her. All part of your game?”

She’d needed to be hurt. No one used his toys without permission. He’d stood in the shadows and watched her touch his toy, put her red lips to his ear and her long-nailed hands on his thigh, and Dima had salivated at the thought of gutting her. For touching what was his. He’d gotten hard as he’d thought of it.

Hot breath brushed his neck. Made him shudder. Usually he had better control when he played his games. Usually his toys didn’t affect him. Usually he didn’t pursue his toys either. This one was tough to catch. Impossible to pin down. It exhilarated him, that cat and mouse game.

“If I’d fucked her while you watched, would that have been part of the game?”

Something thudded in his chest. He swallowed again. Fire burned his throat. His head pounded as a flash of heat made him sweat. Anger. Not just any anger. Jealous anger. His lips parted and his toy swooped in, took him. His mouth. His tongue. His mind. And Dima started to pant because that wasn’t part of the game. Not his game. To be taken over. To be made to feel more than the superficial pain on his skin. He tried to stop the kiss, turn his head, but his toy caught him by the throat, fingers tight, pressing in, stealing breath he didn’t seem to want to give back.

“Watch me,” his toy whispered. Sadistic. Eyes so black Dima didn’t see the whites. He looped the rope around Dima’s neck. Tightened it. “Let’s play then, Rush.” He pulled the rope. “And watch me.”

Dima did.

 

 

Amazon: http://bit.ly/BRku01

All Romance: http://bit.ly/XnD01

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/xNd01

 

 

 

About the Author

 

A Caribbean transplant, Avril now lives in Stone Mountain, GA., with a tolerant spousal equivalent. Together they raise an eccentric daughter who loves reading and school (not so much school anymore). Avril’s earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing the plot points of Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with an equally book-minded mother.

Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09 and never looked back. Spicy love scenes, delicious heroes, and wicked women burn up the pages of Avril’s stories, but there’ll always be a happy ending; Av remains a believer of love in all its forms.

Addicted to cake, the ID Channel and the UFC, Avril writes Erotic and GLBT Romance for Evernight PublishingeXtasy BooksSecret Cravings Publishing and Total-e-Bound.

Visit: http://www.avrilashton.com

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