The Three Thieves and the Dom - Elyzabeth M. Valey

“Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, Big Bad Wolf, Big Bad Wolf?”

Remember that tune? How about this?

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

"No, no, not by the hair on my chinny chin chin."

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."

Sound familiar? It belongs to that old fairytale about 3 little pigs and a Big Bad Wolf that wanted to throw down their house.

Not scary right? But, what if the wolf was a man of flesh and bone determined to seduce your socks off and blow away your heart? What if instead of building houses you built defenses around your heart? What if the Wolf knocked on your door determined to find out what was within your soul and said this:

“I will kiss, lick, and make you scream out the truth.”

Would you open the door?

Blurb:

The Three Thieves and The Dom

(The Witches' Mischief, 3)

Conall Dougal, infamous rake, wakes up one morning to find his most precious possessions have been stolen by the women he loves. Devastated, he goes in their search determined to find them and extract the truth from them in any way possible.
Penelope, Isidora, and Grace are on the run. They’ve committed a crime and left behind the man they love. Presumably safe, they are stunned when he turns up ready to claim them back and discover the truth.
But, what is the truth? And will Conall’s special kind of coaxing make them speak?
Be Warned: menage sex (MFFF), f/f sex, BDSM, sex toys, spanking, forced seduction

Available at

Amazon.com || Amazon. Uk || Evernight Publishing ||  All Romance Ebooks || Bookstrand

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Excerpt:
“Do you remember our first time together, little angel?”
“Yes, Master Conall.”
“Were you frightened then?”
She shook her head. “No sir, I was excited.”
Conall leaned into her, brushing his lips against her neck and causing goose bumps to rise on her flesh. “I was too.” He breathed in deeply, as if committing her fragrance to memory. His tongue swirled around the outer shell of her ear and she arched her body into his.
“So responsive, always so responsive. I want to fuck you, Gracie. Hard and fast because I want to punish your pussy for leaving me bereft.”
Grace moaned. The loud sound echoed in her ears. Panicked, she pushed him, desperate to escape from the clutches he had on her heart and soul. With ease, Conall captured her hands in his, binding her with his strength. Grace panted.  Liquid coated her pussy as her gaze found his.
“You want it too,” he said. “Are you wet?”
Grace swallowed. She couldn’t lie to him, but she could choose not to answer.
Conall smirked. “I know you are, angel.” Slowly, he lowered her hands and pressed them against his groin. Instinctively, she curled her fingers around his hard length. Conall groaned. “You want this as bad as I do.”
“No. I can’t.” Grace forced her hands away from his erection. A growl-like sound burst through his lips, catching her off guard. Grace yelped as he pulled her hair, sharply drawing her head back.
“Cannot or will not?” His passion-filled gaze flitted over her face for an instant. “Never mind,” he snarled. His lips slammed against hers in a punishing kiss that took the air from her lungs. He kept his hand on her hair so that she couldn’t move, controlling their kiss. She could only comply to his sensual touch, and that was all she wanted to do. His kiss deepened, his tongue seeking out hers in hard, angry swipes full of longing and unspent desire. Grace moaned loudly, as with his other hand he found her breast and roughly massaged it through her clothes. Abruptly, he pulled back.
“Angel, little angel of my heart. Will you not tell me why you left?”
“No.”
Conall’s face transformed. His grin turned feral as his eyes narrowed, a fiendish spark in their depths.
 “Then I will draw it out of you. I will kiss, lick, and make you scream out the truth.”
He punctuated each word by running his fingers across her chest and causing shiver after shiver to rack her form. Wetness slid between her thighs and her breasts ached for his touch. She had to get away from him. Unlike Isidora or Penelope, Grace knew that she was the weakest of them. She was like a house made of straw, one that could be thrown down by the wind in a jiffy. She could not allow it. She had promised Penelope to keep her secret, and she would.
Conall’s hand dipped lower, finding her nipple and pinching the hardened nub.
“Would you look at that? It’s already eager for my touch.”
Somehow, he managed to pull out her breast. Grace watched paralyzed as he leaned into her. His lips formed an O around the wrinkled flesh. His tongue swiped over it and her body arched automatically, her hands clutching onto his shoulder for support. His mouth closed hard over her nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and she screamed. Conall’s hands grasped her bottom, drawing her into him as he fervently sucked on her breast.
 “Do you feel it? My hard cock pressed against you? Waiting for your hot pussy to wrap around it like the glove you wear over your hand. My little angel, you always enjoyed serving me. Whatever I asked, you did without question and always with utter pleasure. Will you do so now?” He pulled out her other breast, twisting the nipple between thumb and forefinger.
“Master Conall, please.”
“Tell me, Grace.” He pinched harder. Tears gathered at the back of her eyes as pain collided with pleasure and the desire to tell him all.  
“I cannot.”
“Yes, you can.”
She was unable to stop him as he hitched her skirts to her waist and found her wet folds.
“Oh God, Grace.” His voice broke, and for the first time ever she realized how affected he was by the situation.  “I want to fuck you, Grace. I want to stick my hard rod up your warm, wet pussy. I want to taste you, love. I want to hear you scream my name as you fall from heaven.” He pushed two fingers deep into her. Grace’s legs trembled.
“Tell me,” he urged, pumping them in and out of her.
“I cannot, I don’t—”
“Yes?” A third finger wound its way inside of her and she threw her head back, giving in to the rising pleasure.
They froze at the sound of a loud knock at the door. 

Author Bio:

Defined as weird since she was about eight, Elyzabeth honors the title by making up songs about her chores, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper and talking to her dog whenever he feigns interest.

Losing the battle to the voices in her head is her favorite pastime after annoying her younger sister with her singing. Writing stories full of passion and emotion where love conquers all is her happy pill and she'll forgo sleep to make her readers live the dream.

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New Release! - Honor James - Patty's homecoming #MFM

Welcome to Honor James and her scorching hot cowboys...

Patty's Homecoming (MFM) Montana Wranglers 1

By: Honor James Categories: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys Word Count: 93,159 Heat Level: SEXTREME Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc. Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/pattys-homecoming Video Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhS6eNe5S1k&list=UUKS0OZNCXbe6IfND3e1ZVLA This title is offered at a 15% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, April 2nd. [Ménage Amour: Erotic Cowboy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA] Trouble is following Patricia Graymont home. But she needs somewhere to hide for a while, to sort through everything that’s happened, and as the saying goes, there really is no place like home. The only problem is having to face the two men she still loves and once left behind. Blake Jacobson and Corbin Franks have worked on the Graymont Ranch for as many years as they can remember. They have a love for the land and the work they do is to keep it as natural as possible. They also both love the owner’s daughter, but once upon a time, they had to let her go to become the woman they always knew she could be. Her homecoming was everything Patty could hope for, and more. Already feeling a little raw emotionally, seeing Blake and Corbin again was like a healing balm to her soul. Now, all they have to do is survive the coming storm. A Siren Erotic Romance

STORY EXCERPT

The sound of a door slamming was closely followed by loud curses of a creative, if inaccurate, nature. Lifting his head up from the books he’d been semi-diligently going over, Daniel peeked out the window. What he saw was one of his hands, half-dressed, arguing with Constantine, his housekeeper.

Rolling his chair closer to the window, he cracked it open. He didn’t need to, the whole house had air conditioning. Nope, he was being a nosy old man and cracked it to eavesdrop. Not that he was old. He was only sixty and still going strong. He’d had a great life, an even better one with his beloved wife Charlotte, God rest her soul. She’d given him thirty-five years of marriage, love, and the best sex of his life. She’d also given him every single one of his gray hairs, two sons and a daughter.

Connor worked the farm and, one day, would take over for him. Brendan was a lawyer in Great Falls and handled all the legal matters for the farm, not that there were a lot, but it was a business. And his baby, Patricia, was in New York working for an interior designer and one day, God willing, would go out on her own. In the meantime she was living life, enjoying her career and called him every weekend to chat a mile a minute. Just like her mama used to do whenever she was excited, or pissed off. Chuckling, he shook his head. That girl could talk the ear off of anyone and try the patience of even the Pope himself.

“I’ve told you a dozen times Constantine, and I’m sorry I have to apparently declare it to the whole damned world, but I’m not interested,” Blake, the half-dressed hand, said in a loud tone. Daniel’s attention was dragged back to the goings-on outside the window.

“That’s not what Trevor said,” the woman shrieked. “Do you think I would be there if you hadn’t apparently been pining for me?”

“Pining!” Daniel winced. He hadn’t known that Blake’s voice could go that high or that loud. “Woman, I have never nor will I ever pine for a woman. Especially you, Constantine Delgado. You are a busybody and way too much maintenance. And if I ever, ever catch you trying to jump me while I’m in my rack sleeping again, I will personally kick your ass out of Montana one step at a time.”

The woman shrieked at the top of her lungs, pure frustration there, Daniel thought. His next thought was he would be needing a new housekeeper. And he was spot-on with that assessment, especially given her next words. “Don’t fucking bother you degenerate! I quit!” she screamed. With that volume, Daniel was pretty sure all of Montana knew she’d just quit.

“Good!” Blake sneered right back at her. “I pity the next fool that dares to take you on. I only pray that he’s got a wife that puts you in your fucking place.”

Another shriek and Constantine was storming toward the house. Eyes going wide, Daniel shut the window and rolled his chair back into place just in time for the front door to smack the siding. Wincing, he turned his attention to the books as she went to her room. More banging, door slamming, and a lot of swearing.

One of the problems with having a single woman on the farm was that the men tended to forget about her sex when they were working and let loose with some creative language. Not that he normally minded. The only time he enforced it with the hands was when Patricia came home to visit. ’Course, most of the lads thought of her as a baby sister, so that helped keep the cursing to a minimum. Not that he was fool enough to believe his baby girl couldn’t out-swear them all. She could. He was just in denial and would remain so until the day he left his farm and went to meet up with his Charlotte in the hereafter.

His head came up as he realized that silence reigned in the house all of a sudden. Oops, thought it too soon. A door slammed and angry steps stomped toward his office. Pasting on a bland expression, he looked up. “Constantine, uh, are you going somewhere?” he asked. Okay, an Academy Award was not in his future, but she was too pissed off to notice.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graymont, I can’t work here any longer. I quit,” she said, slamming her suitcase to the floor.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Constantine. May I ask why?” He tipped his head and hoped he looked confused and slightly curious.

“It’s got nothing to do with you, sir. It’s…” she waved a hand viciously if vaguely about. “It’s them! Those no-good, vile men!” she hissed.

Fighting a chuckle, he nodded slowly. “Well, I’m sad to see you go, Constantine. But you have to do whatever is right for you, dear.” He grabbed his checkbook and wrote her out a check for her last pay plus a little extra. Passing it to her, he sighed, “If you need references, you have them call me. You did great work while you were here and I’m going to make sure they know that.”

She folded the check, stuffed it into her purse and hefted her suitcase. “Thank you, Mr. Graymont. I am sorry to leave you in the lurch like this.”

“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll make do.” He waved her off. “Drive safe now and if you need anything, let me know.”

A stiff nod was her only answer as she spun away. The door slammed behind her and he turned to watch her march to her car. The finger she threw toward the bunkhouse was telling—immature, but very telling. So were the spinning tires and gravel kicked up behind her as she tore up the drive toward the main road.

“Wow, that girl is mad,” he muttered, reaching for the phone. Hitting a number on speed dial, he grinned when his buddy at the Mission Post picked up. “Morty, how’s it going? Good, good. Nah, usual shit and lots of it, given what I’ve got out in the north forty. Listen, I need you to run my ad for a housekeeper. Yup, she thought she’d get into one of the lads’ pants and he told her otherwise. I know, damn women are just too pushy. A little subtlety goes a hell of a lot further. Yup, sounds good. I’ll drop the check off tomorrow when I’m in getting supplies. What? Yeah,” he chuckled. “We can grab a beer. Let’s say around four if that works for you. Sounds good, see you then Mort.”