Title: Salvage Her Heart
Author: Shelly Pratt
Release Date: February 17, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Hosted by: Love Between the Sheets Promotions
Synopsis
This is a contemporary/erotic adult romance. It has darker themes, non-consensual sex, BDSM themes and adult sex scenes.
Evie is living a life with a man who she no longer knows.
He’s taken every single aspect of their love and turned it into a dirty, sordid mess that she can’t escape.
His controlling, arrogant manner cares for no one, not even her. The only problem is, if she were to try and leave he’d just as soon kill her.
Life seems an interminable hell that she can’t escape, but all that changes the day she meets Grayson Glines.
He’s the kind of man that might be able to give her a second chance, but Evie wonders at what cost to both of them will she be free of her husband’s dark clutches.
4 star review
I was given an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
This story was not your typical story. It was dark, violent, and thrilling while at the same time it was sexy and romantic. I liked that in the wake of the terrible situation she has with her controlling husband the story-line also let the main characters develop outside of the darkness and work on a romantic relationship. The story had me wondering what was going to happen all along the way. I likes the thrill of it even if it made me so angry at times.
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About The Author
Shelly Pratt is an Amazon, word-of-mouth, bestselling, self-published author who is also traditionally published with Pegasus under the Vanguard imprint in the UK, and, with a small publishing house in the United States of America.
Only starting her writing career in 2012, she has achieved exceptional reception selling e-books in the USA, publishing over seven books, all in different genres.
Shelly lives with her husband, two children and Labrador Scooby Doo in northern New South Wales in Australia. Snow skiing is her other passion.
Prologue
**Please note – the following is unedited and remains subject to change. Worldwide copyright laws are observed.**
If women tell you they don’t like power, they’re fucking lying. They do like it, and do you know how I know this? They’ve all become a little too obsessed with books and movies that make masochistic males out to be the good guys. So as I tell you my side of the story, remember, I’m the good guy. Well, at the very least, I’m good-looking.
People say I’m arrogant and rude, which is laughable when that is what has drawn them to me in the first place. I would prefer to think of myself as a confident, self-assured man who knows what he wants. And I most definitely knew what I wanted when it came to Evie.
That girl wasn’t like the others, which is probably why I took the whole game to another level and had to put a ring on her finger. I wanted her as my property. She needed to be mine to do what I wanted with; mine to control. She was a challenge. Even now I can see it in her eyes as she’s gagging on my cock. Now don’t go and get all soft on me. You think she really doesn’t want this? Bullshit. She’s a great actress, the theatrics all being part of the game. It makes it more exciting for me and her if she puts up a little resistance.
Do you know what I like best about Evie? Her mouth. She’s got these luscious lips that are full and plump. I’m preferable to her painting them with a red glossy lipstick because it gets me off to see the bright stain around my cock as she gives me head. Like the clothes she wears and the way she acts, I control everything down to her make-up. I have her wear the kind of make-up that I’m preferable to. Don’t judge. I told you, I like control.
It’s been a long day. I’ve had conferences with clients and dinner with business partners. We’ve only just returned to our apartment in the city but my night is far from over. There will always be more work, it’s the nature of the beast. I didn’t get to being CEO of my own company by slacking off. Labouring jobs are for losers. Sure, I had a privileged upbringing and was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, but I still believe in good work ethics. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and if I want to continue on my path of wealth and success then I’m damn well going to put my work before absolutely everything.
First things first, though. Despite the lateness of the evening, I wanted a little release. I wanted those red lips on my cock, sucking me until my balls cease to ache with lust. I’m not going to stop until I’ve squirted my seed into her throat and made her swallow the whole damn lot.
Nights like these, I prefer to sit in my leather chair that faces out of the panorama glass windows that afford views over the Brisbane River. The lights of the Story Bridge twinkle back at me and the water looks dark, murky and mysterious under the night sky. I bought this apartment as a wedding gift for Evie, but for the most part I don’t think she likes it. Ungrateful springs to mind, although it could just be the company. I’m seriously laughing as I tell you that, because to be honest, I don’t give a fuck whether she likes me or not. She’s mine and that’s all that matters.
While downing my fifth scotch for the evening, I beckon her to me. She says nothing, but she knows what I want. Forget the elephant in the room; it’s a bit hard to hide my bulging erection that I’ve freed from my pants. Most people would be worried about getting their four hundred dollar trousers dirty. Not me. That kind of money is pocket change in my world. Despite her eagerness to oblige me, there is a reason behind her willing to please. I mean come on, if you haven’t figured it out already you’re not as smart as I thought you were. Okay, I’ll spell it out for you any way. I get a little rough. Not all the time, but if you don’t give me what I want, well, let’s just say there are consequences.
‘On your knees’. There was no need for the command, but fuck, I’ve got to say I like the sound of my own voice. It’s rich, deep, commanding and powerful. It speaks of a man who has always gotten what he wants. Evie is no exception. I wanted her then and I want her now. She obliges me by sliding to her knees, her silk stockings making it slippery on the tiles for her. She grabs my knees to steady herself before leaning forward to take me in her mouth, all the while not making eye contact with me. I let her get away with it for the minute, but my patience has limits.
Her mouth is hot and wet. It is utter delight as her lips start to move back and forth over my shaft, messily leaving behind her lipstick as she does. As she goes to work on me, I down the last of my drink before taking her carefully done braid in my grasp. Evie is definitely in my league as far as looks go. She’s got long, blonde hair that has never seen the inside of a salon. All the streaks and highlights are from time spent outdoors. Sometimes she likes to challenge me on my rule of her keeping it natural. I think her opposing opinions are merely to rile me up so that I put her in her place. Yes, I do think she secretly likes me smacking her arse. It may belittle her at the time but you can be rest assured it makes her think twice before raising the subject again. I refuse to have my wife look like some fake, tarted-up bimbo. I want her looking natural – well, except for the red lippy. The red lipstick stays.
I’m not going to give it up easily. I’m going to make her work for it. Hell, I even zone out for a while, taking in the city that is my playground. Living and working in a town that is fast becoming a place that doesn’t sleep is like a drug. The more I immerse myself in it, the more I want to be king of this empire. Slowly but surely I’m putting other companies out of business. Pretty soon I’m going to have everything I ever dreamed of.
Evie is sucking greedily now. Not because she’s into it, because she’s not. Oh let’s be honest! She just wants me to give it up so she can get the job over and done with. I know she doesn’t mind me fucking her vanilla, but blowjobs have never been her thing. She tried to pull off me once just as I was about to come. What a mistake. She’s never tried to pull that shit again, although she still gags, the reflex an unbreakable trait. Like now, for example; even in the darkly lit living room I can see her eyes beginning to water as my dick swells against the back of her throat. I’m sure she can taste my pre-come – the salty, bitter fluid already affording her a taste of what’s to come.
I slide a little lower in my leather seat, thrusting just that little bit more inside of her mouth. She tries to back off, although there’s no escape. Her braid that is wound tightly around my fist is tugged ever so slightly, a reminder that I have control of her head. I’m close and she knows it. I can feel her reposition my dick towards the back corner of her mouth where her molars are so she doesn’t have to taste my semen on her taste buds. If I was any kind of man, which I am, I should be rather insulted by this – which I am. And when I’m insulted, I’m not very forgiving.
When I come, I come hard. And no, it’s not aimed at the back of her mouth like she’d have liked. Pulling her hair makes her wince and she loses some of the suction on my shaft, her lips making sucking and slurping noises as she tries to reposition me back to where she’d like me. Unfortunately for her, she’s too late. Her perfectly positioned tongue is only lapping at the eye of my cock when I blow in her mouth. I’ve got to give her credit for her spunk because she does try to pull away. Unsuccessfully, I might add. My grip on her hair forces her to remain right where she is. I keep her there until I’m licked clean. Getting a blow job is not as good as fucking her pussy, but it sure comes a close second. I never give her the satisfaction of pleasurable sounds coming from my mouth, though, because that would be giving her the green light that she has in some way pleased me. And with the knowledge that she has pleased me would give her power. Power I don’t want her to have.
There may, or may not be tears in her eyes tonight. They have no effect on me whatsoever. I dismiss her to bathe before bed while I pour myself a refill of scotch. Twenty-two stories below, people are still walking the boardwalk that runs along the river’s edge. Some are alone, others huddled together like love birds. It’s a sentiment I’m not familiar with. My whole life is lived like a business transaction. I know I like having Evie in my life and I know I like the status of being a married man. But love, well, it’s not for me.
In the beginning I know Evie foolishly thought that it could be that way between us. Like her parents, she was lured into the deception I was selling. Trust me when I say, no one sells lies like I do. I showed them what they wanted to see; revealed the parts of me and my life that would be desirable by a family like theirs. Each and every one of them fell hook, line and sinker. It’s laughable, really, that one family could be so gullible. I’m sure over the last three years they’ve all tried to think a way out of the Alex Stratford contract, but all I can say is, ‘Over my dead body,’ or more likely, over theirs.
©Copyright 2013/2014 Shelly Pratt
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