This is Book 4 in a stand alone series.
Amazon Purchase Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082DG4HC5/
Available on Kindle Unlimited
Yesterday I’d never been kissed. Today every inch of me belongs to him.
I didn’t ask for a guardian, but it wasn’t up to me.
I disobeyed him, just to see what he would do.
Then I found out what happens to bad little girls.
She earned herself a taste of my belt. She got much more than that.
I knew this sassy princess would need a firm hand.
I planned to take her over my knee.
Then I decided to take her as mine.
Publisher’s Note: Virgin is a stand-alone sequel to Bronson, Carter, and Rockland. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Charged with being the third ranking officer for the family mafia?
Piece of cake.
Charged with keeping the flighty baby cousin of the head of the family in line?
She’s young, smart, witty… and drop dead gorgeous. She’s five foot nine, and half of that height is her shapely legs. Glossy jet-black hair runs down her back. She’s perfected this little laugh and sassy flip of her hair over her shoulders. Drives the younger guys wild. The bone structure of her face has been likened to that of a Madonna. Dark perfectly arched brows, cheekbones to the high heavens, gliding down to draw attention to her full, glossy lips. A classic Italian beauty.
Who has no idea how beautiful she is. Or the effect she has on men.
Men I am magically supposed to keep from yearning for her. Sure, I can keep them away in proximity, but I can’t control the way they lust after her.
I seem to be the only single male immune to her charms.
Yes, she’s got an amazing body, a sharp mind, a quick wit. But she’s constantly late. Never met a deadline. Has no idea what a hard day of work is. Been coddled and spoiled since the day she was born. A daydreamer, always floating above the clouds. Or spending lazy afternoons basking on the shore, her nose stuck in one of her silly romance novels.
If I’m Type A, Adrianna is Type Z… the furthest from my kind possible.
And so, I was the only logical choice in the brotherhood to guard her.
It’s not that I don’t like her. Quite the opposite. I’ve observed her around the Parish. She’s kind, thoughtful. She loves animals, playing games with the children. She’s the only one who can lighten our leader’s stoic nature. She makes him laugh. I would find her to be as charming as everyone else does if she had a little taming. A few healthy boundaries, consequences for her whimsical, forgetful ways, a few trips over my knee, and she’d no longer infuriate me.
Alas. It’s not to be. Not yet, at least.
We have a hierarchy in the brotherhood. One put in place to protect our women. When a woman marries into the family, her husband is her protector. A man second to him is named, should her husband perish. But it’s only been enacted once. Recently in fact.
The man we are flying to the memorial of, Brett Bachman, was Rockland’s blood brother. He died three years ago. Rockland, next of kin, became responsible for Brett’s widow, Tess. At first, she was fine, needing him only to get through the funeral, the first memorial. The second year after Brett’s death, she began to spiral out of control, going down a dark tunnel of drinking and depression. Bronson enacted the hierarchy. Rockland moved in with her. Cared for her. Got her back on her feet. And they fell in love with one another.
I don’t fault Rockland for falling for Tess. She’s the kind of woman I usually find myself attracted to. Self-assured, hard worker. Devoted to the cause. Confident, knows her beauty. Dressing to accentuate her curves, bring out the highlights in her red hair. Calculated and cunning. A power player. She’s a tigress.
And Adrianna, a butterfly. Flitting about her day, clueless of the repercussions of her actions. Which is why she needs me.
Excerpt 2: R #18+
I enter behind her, locking the door. She’s facing me, her hands braced on the sink behind her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I am sorry. I understand the importance of keeping the documents secure, now.”
I cross my arms over my chest and her gaze contemplates the size of my biceps. “That may be true, but you don’t understand the concept of obedience.”
“To be fair, you never said I couldn’t take them back.”
“Do you really want to be making this silly argument, right now?” My hand casually goes to the buckle of my belt.
Her eyes widen and she swallows hard, seeming to have trouble with the simple act of breathing. Or speaking, it turns out when she responds with a long string of stutters, “I… ah… um…”
“Let me guess. Never been spanked before?”
She bites her bottom lip and those wide doe-like eyes stare up at me, adorably terrified. It hardens my cock. I ignore the surge below my waist and grab her arm, turning her around so that she’s pressed against the sink, facing the mirror. I hold her there. Her fingertips dig into the sides of the counter, her lower stomach pressed into the edge. She’s frantically looking at me in the mirror and suddenly she’s full of fight, saying, “I’ll scream, I’ll call for the brothers, I’ll—”
“Honey. They all know who’s in charge. You think they’ll come to your rescue? They’d only come to watch.” That snaps her jaw shut. “Now, be a good girl and take your punishment like a lady or you’ll find we have other ways to punish naughty girls. Ways you don’t want to know about.”
There’s a hint of terror in her face and she swiftly becomes compliant. So she’s heard whispers from the other women about our sleek metal plugs. “Yes, sir.”
I’m surprised by her submissive words. Coming from her high, lilting voice, they cause more discomfort as my balls rise to the occasion, constricting with lust. Her dark hair falls over her face as she stares down at the sink. I tuck a strand behind her ear and say, “Look up.”
I want her eyes on the mirror. Watching her own reactions to the punishment as well as seeing me spank her. She calculates my intentions and in her cheeks is a lovely pink. She’s biting her lip and shifts her weight on her feet, squirming.
The tango that goes on between a dominant man and a submissive woman—there is nothing sexier in this world. And with a woman like Adrianna the only way to earn their full obedience, submission, the traits we need in order to keep them safe in this dangerous world, is by powerfully mastering their bodies.
I’m going to enjoy this.
My hand comes down hard on her full bottom. It lands with a satisfying slap, her flesh jiggling beneath my palm. Her first ever spank. It’s my privilege to administer this—
She releases a deep moan, right from the center of her core. I catch her gaze in the mirror and her lids are heavy, her brown eyes are filled with lust. I was not prepared for her response. She should be fighting, begging, crying for me to stop.
Not teetering on the verge of an orgasm.
My cock pulses, my trousers getting tight. Who knew hidden within this little bookworm was a wild cat waiting to be unleashed? Never mind her heated response—I’ve got to focus on the task at hand. Reddening her ass. Teaching her a lesson. Breaking through the pleasure to the real pain… the pain that will have her thinking twice before she chooses to disobey.
I strike again, much harder this time. My open palm lands on the center of her right cheek with a loud smack, her plush derriere jiggling on impact.
“Ow!” Her face flies over her shoulder. She’s looking at me in disbelief. “That hurt!”
“You’re getting the idea.” I bring my hand down again, same spot but on the left side. Even harder. She jumps, her hands going to protect her now stinging bottom. I easily trap both of her wrists in the loop of my hand. “Tsk, tsk, darling. No blocking.”
Shanna Handel is an Internationally Bestselling Author. Her books always hit the top 100 in her category, and often make it to #1. Congratulations, Shanna!!!
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