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Smoke: The Carelli Family Saga, Book One Page 20
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But some lies are hard to come back from. And some promises are made to be broken. Sometimes going home again is the only thing that can save you. But first you have to break. First you have to fall.
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Dario Sneak Peek
Dario:
The Carelli Family Saga, Book Two
Ava fought me since day one.
There was no reason to her stubbornness.
There was no rhyme to her obstinance. I’d seen grown men doing life with less pig-headed ways. But what I knew about the woman—and what she tried to hide from every man that gave her even the smallest second glance—was that she was lonely.
Strong people. Capable people who like to be in control, don’t like to maintain that control all the time. No one can keep that up. It starts to fuck with them. It fractures their resolve and if there isn’t some slipping of that control, then they never find freedom.
They never feel release.
She ignored me as I watched her, standing behind her in the small kitchen. The staff was gone. The stock for the next morning looked prepared. But she was still here, in her designer skirt and apron, pretending there was still things to do. Pretending my questions, my presence didn’t challenge her.
When I moved, Ava stiffened her shoulders, and I spotted the curl of her fingers on the chair she sat in.
“You think a strong woman is made weak when a man insists on dominance in the bedroom?”
Her back was a rod now. Even in the low light, I could make out how she kept herself straight, how ridged her limbs were, how she lifted her chin like she refused to show any weakness at all.
It was so fucking obvious. The woman hadn’t had anyone stretch her out in forever.
Not that back, not those hips, not that wide, plump ass. Damn sure not that pussy.
Just the idea of it, of her spread out on that metal table, her thick red hair everywhere, her pale, perfect skin glowing in the dark kitchen had me aching to touch her. But, I reminded myself this was a game, me teasing her like this. Me getting under her skin because I knew I could. The fire was there, just below the surface, but she wouldn’t let anyone see it.
Ava moved her head, her gaze on me as I made slow steps behind her, keeping myself a few feet away, not close enough to be a threat, but near enough that I could take her if she asked.
Fuck, I wish she would.
“That’s not why I want to be in control,” I continued, hand in my pocket, taking a step. I could make out her profile from the light above the stove. She looked like something that should be hanging in a museum. Can’t remember if I’ve ever wanted a woman as long as I wanted her. It had gotten easier for me since I got out. The habit returned. At first, fucking was a necessity. Something I did to remind myself what I’d gone without for five damn years. Then, over the months, it was simpler, expected. Now, there was no need to even wait for women to offer themselves to me. It was there for the taking, always.
I only needed to say yes.
Except for her.
Another step and those shoulders got stiffer. She moved her gaze up now, eyes wider, unblinking as I looked down at her. I’d stood so close to her an hour ago, had her pressed against the counter, felt the soft curves of her body against me, felt how she shook as I leaned into her.
I wasn’t the only one waiting.
“Ava,” I started, keeping gravel in my tone.
She shifted her gaze, the movement slow until she looked right at me.
“Stand up for me.” I didn’t expect her to listen. She never had before, but something in my tone seemed to affect her and Ava, stubborn, strong Ava, stood, not facing me, her attention on the light in front of her. I was hard already seeing how she submitted, knowing if I was any other man, if we were anywhere else, she’d laugh at me.
“Come here to me.”
Her movements were slow, but deliberate, and I didn’t bother to adjust myself as she moved. I was proud, bold, wanted her to see what just her listening, obeying me, did to my body. My breath was calm, fingers unflinching, but my heart was humming like a jackhammer as she stepped away from her chair, eyes wide, attention caught like she was a puppet, and I was pulling her strings.
It was all I could do to keep from gripping her, holding her against me as she stood in front of me, a goddess among pathetic mortals ready to be worshipped. “Lean on the table.”
The mask dipped, her high dimmed, and Ava’s gaze burned me as she glared, but I didn’t react, was too fucking drunk on how she looked moving as I commanded. The glare dropped from her expression when I reached for her, sliding the tips of my fingers against her back, my head tilting to the side, knowing she wanted me, betting she’d stop me, praying she wouldn’t.
Ava seemed as caught up in this spell as I was, compelled by whatever magic had drawn us together.
“I want to control the woman I fuck because I want to make her feel good. It gets my dick hard to see a beautiful woman lose control because of how I touch her.” I slipped a hand lower, moving it along the back of her thigh, rubbing her over her skirt, over her round, perfect ass. “When you arch like this, and I slip my fingers inside you, I can touch you in a place that will make you come harder than you ever have before.”
Ava blinked at me, distrustful, but she didn’t pull away when I stepped behind her, moving my hips against her ass, holding my arms over hers as she leaned forward.
A slow tremble of movement quivered over her when I brushed aside her hair and let my mouth whisper against her ear. “I tell you what to do so that you weep with pleasure.”
Ava closed her eyes for a second, then pretended she didn’t, blinking away whatever it was— my words, my touch— that worked inside her.
Her stomach was flat, clenched as I moved my hand around her waist, resting it just above her pussy. Heat warmed the tips of my fingers there through her skirt, but I didn’t touch her. Not yet.
“I can make you wet, make you pant, remind you what it is to lose control and love the loss. But only if you let me. Only if you want it.”
It would be good, us together. Hot and wet and it would go on forever. For a second, I indulged in the image of us together, seeing it all play out before I straightened, sliding my hand against her stomach, to her hip, ready to step away from her. Then Ava grabbed my wrist and that thunder of movement in my chest stopped altogether as she brought my hands back to her warm pussy.
Ava glanced over her shoulder, holding my attention, those beautiful blue eyes hungry, anxious as she trapped me where I stood. No breath moved in and out of my lungs as I waited for her to speak. When she did, I understood that she was strong enough to destroy me. She was the most dangerous woman I’d ever known. She could end me with one word.
“Please.”
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About the Author
Eden Butler is a writer of contemporary, fantasy and romantic suspense novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum.
When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, reads, and spends too much time in her garden perfecting her green thumb while waiting for the next New Orleans Saints Super Bowl win.
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana.
Please send help.
Saints & Sinners Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/345844502509364/
Find out more about Eden’s books on her site www.edenbutler.com
Also By Eden Butler
FROM CITY OWL PRESS / PARANORMAL & FANTASY ROMANCE
Infinite Us
CRIMSON COVE SERIES
Forgotten Magic
Love and Magic (Forthcoming, 2021)
Haunted Magic (Forthcoming, 2021)
INDEPENDENT TITLES / CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
THE SERENITY SERIES
/> Chasing Serenity
Behind the Pitch
Finding Serenity
Claiming Serenity
Catching Serenity
THE THIN LOVE SERIES
Thin Love
My Beloved
Thick Love
Thick & Thin
My Always
SAINTS & SINNERS SERIES
The Last Love of Luka Hale
Roughing the Kicker
Offsides
GOD OF ROCK SERIES
Kneel
Beg
STANDALONES
I’ve Seen You Naked and Didn’t Laugh
Platform Four
Fall
COLLABORATIONS
Nailed Down, Nailed Down Book One, with Chelle Bliss
Tied Down, Nailed Down Book Two, with Chelle Bliss
Kneel Down, Nailed Down Book Three, with Chelle Bliss
Stripped, Nailed Down Book Four, with Chelle Bliss
Santa, Baby, A Carelli Family Christmas Novella with Chelle Bliss
Acknowledgments
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to all those producers and writers who created the now defunct mob shows I watched—there were so damn many of them—as a teenager. I was very misguided about who bad guys were, but they gave me a lot of inspiration.
As always, thank you to my ride-or-die Chelle Bliss, for always believing in my words and kicking my ass like no one else. I love you forever lady, even if you come down with the cock flu one day. Thank you to Renita McKinney for telling me what needed fixing and making me pull back on the drama. You knew what Smoke and Maggie needed and weren’t afraid to point that out. I love you for it, sis.
Heather Weston-Confer, thank you for your eagle eyes, your wise words, your constant help and your beautiful heart. I hope your fella enjoys living in one of my fictional towns. His pee wee team always wins, of course.
Special thanks to Dani Sanchez and the Wildfire team, everyone who promoted and reviewed this title, and Becky Barney with Fairest Reviews for the patient edit.
Thanks to my readers, my betas, my street and ARC reader teams, my family and friends and, the wonderful creative minds who make Turkish rom coms and dramas. I’m freakin’ obsessed now. Can and Sanem forever.
Be kind to each other and keep wearing your masks!