Monday, September 2, 2019

Priceless: A Dark Bratva Romance by Jane Henry

USA Today bestselling author Jane Henry delivers a high-stakes, gritty story of forbidden romance, devastation, and taboo love that knows no bounds.

She's barely legal.

Under my protection.

Fully off-limits.

But all mine.

Ruthless is a fully stand-alone spin-off from The Wicked Doms series.

Please note: this dark romance contains mild dubious consent, elements of violence, and kinky, sexual scenes. If such subject matters offend you, please do not read.

I lean over and gently restrain her, pushing her wild limbs down and kneeling on one knee beside her.

"Stop it," I order.

She looks at me then out the window and back again, tears filling her eyes. Her eyes flash with something I can't quite place, but soon the heated glare is unmistakable. She's pissed, and hell if that doesn't make my cock hard just looking at her.

She's gorgeous any day. She's stunning when she's angry.


Kneeling beside her, with my hands at the back of her head on the gag, I instruct her. "I will remove this gag if you promise to do exactly what I say. Do you understand me?"

She nods wildly.

I unknot my t-shirt and pull the gag free. She rubs her mouth and looks down, momentarily chastened while waiting for me to free her, though her eyes quickly flash at me again before she schools her features. I quickly unbutton my dress shirt and pull the slightly damp t-shirt back on, inhaling deeply but turning away from her so she doesn't know how the shirt, permeated with her scent and essence, affects me. I swallow hard, keeping my face stern and immovable.

"That was awful," she whispers. "I hate when you're mean."

Oh, no, we are not playing that game.

I lift her chin and bring her eyes to mine. "That wasn't awful. What you face if you disobey me? That will be awful. We're going into the hotel, and I insist you behave yourself. You speak to no one. You keep your eyes down. You do exactly what I tell you. Am I clear?"

Those gorgeous, luminous eyes look at me with hurt and anger and something deeper... something molten.


But she nods obediently, and I almost believe she's going to behave.

"Tell me you'll behave, Marissa."

"Fine," she says in a whisper, then yawns widely. The girl's exhausted.

"I mean it," I warn, and I fucking do.

"I know," she says, yawning again. "I'll be good."

I'm not convinced.

I chose the smallest, hole-in-the-wall hotel I could find, far less likely to be on the Bratva's map. The car I borrowed is unmarked, untraceable to my father or my brothers. My phone the same. Hers, however... I pull it out of my pocket and frown at it, then shove it back in. I'll have to dispose of it, but it's best if she doesn't know. She won't be too happy about that.

Walking into a place like this without bags won't draw any attention. This hotel was built for one-night stands. I open the door and gesture for her to go in ahead of me, earning me a heated glare.

"So now you're the gentleman," she says with an eye-roll.

"Watch the attitude, little girl." Christ, my palm itches to spank her feisty little ass.

She shoots me a mischievous grin.

Perhaps intimidation isn't the smartest tactic after all, given how she's misbehaved underneath my watchful eyes for years. I decide to try a different approach.

I've noted her wide-eyed gazes, the way she fidgets and when I pull closer to her. If my suspicions are right... and she is at all attracted to me in any way... I could try another angle.

I’m well versed in the fine art of domination.

I take her by the elbow and pull her to me in the small entryway before we enter the main lobby. Her skin is silk beneath my fingers, her fragrance exhilarant, but I take a deep breath and fix her with a warning look. Leaning in close, I brush her hair behind her ear, wanting to do so much more than that. To tangle my fingers in that mass of gorgeous waves and tug her head back before I capture her mouth with mine.


So fucking wrong.

I bring my mouth to her ear, caging her in the little space. "Unless you misbehave on purpose, Marissa? Is that what you want? Do you want me to punish you?"

The sound she emits is like a little mouse caught in a trap, a fetching squeak that almost makes me smile.

"Of course not," she protests, but the flush of her cheeks and widened eyes betray her.

"Are you sure about that?" I ask, hoping to embarrass her into silence. Gently, I run my fingers along the back of her neck, just enough to remind her how I control this. How I control her.

Just enough to ensure her compliance.

I shouldn't be doing this. Christ, I shouldn't be doing this, but the way her eyelids flutter and her cheeks color, I can't stop myself. What I wouldn't give to lay her down and make her moan until the sun sets and rises on a new day.

"Are you sure you don't want just that?" I keep my voice suggestive and salacious, allowing her time to think about the image I paint for her. "Me, overpowering you?"

She shakes her head but moves closer to me and swallows hard. She trembles, and it’s fucking beautiful.

I lean in and press my mouth so close to her ear I feel her warmth. "Laying you over my knees for the spanking you know you deserve?"

"Nooo," she says, but it's a moan this time, and though she's shaking her head, she's moved even closer to me.

"Then be a good girl," I breathe in her ear.

USA Today Bestselling author Jane has been writing since her early teens, dabbling in short stories and poetry. When she married and began having children, her pen was laid to rest for several years, until the National Novel Writing Challenge (NaNoWriMo) in 2010 awakened in her the desire to write again. That year, she wrote her first novel, and has been writing ever since. With a houseful of children, she finds time to write in the early hours of the morning, squirreled away with a laptop, blanket, and cup of hot coffee. Years ago, she heard the wise advice, “Write the book you want to read,” and has taken it to heart. She sincerely hopes you also enjoy the books she likes to read.

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