Thursday, September 25, 2014

Saving Abel (Rocker Series Book #1) by Gina Whitney with Giveaway, Playlist & Chapter One

Synopsis
Abel Gunner, the lead singer of the band Lethal Abel, is what beautiful nightmares are made of. His gritty, melodic rasp threatens to rip your heart out of your chest and leave you gasping for the very breath he robbed you of. His kisses, detonating on impact, leave you ruined. Abel is also a Dom, and his appetite for seduction is legendary and intense. After a chance encounter with Gia, his need to dominate this woman increases tenfold. He wants to consume her, merge with her, and never leave her body.

Abel's emerald eyes touch the deepest part of Gia's soul in a way that terrifies her. She fears he can see her secret. Lies, guilt, and betrayal lay beneath her skin, and she's terrified of being exposed. How will Gia ever begin to explain? She doesn't believe she's worthy of him, and her greatest fear is that her carefully guarded heart will be shattered. However, she finds herself unable to deny this rogue tattooed rocker whose kisses just might ruin her.
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  Excerpt
Chapter One

On ecru initialed paper, the understanding was brutally clear … You’re to be blindfolded and waiting on your knees for your master. I reread it a couple of times, my hands shaking with both fear of the unknown and the excitement of being delivered to the brink of aching pleasure. Man, I was fucked!
I folded the note in half, perfectly seaming the edges while I wondered if I had bitten off more than I could chew. The thoughts swirled cyclonically in my head, causing a fluttering in my stomach to mount to vomit worthy levels, as I picked up the Hermes scarf. I gently ran it along my cheek before breathing in his alpha scent. Him. My eyes closed on their own accord, heart beating in concert with my pussy.  My clit charged and already primed with wetness. My inner demon-ess was scratching the surface of my psyche, relentlessly thrashing against its confinement.
Twirling around in a sexual dreamlike state, my eyes took in floor-to-ceiling windows, the lush, red velvet drapes pulled back. Gasping heavily, I held my hand over my heart to keep the fucker in there. Was he planning to take me in the open—voyeur delight?  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then again, this was about surrendering. A place my control had no say. On the left was a free-standing bar, his guitar leaning against it.  Chrystal decanters lined the top. Amber colored courage called out to my parched throat, begging, needing something to quell the tremors that plagued my body. I couldn’t. Could I?  Or was that breaking the rules? I couldn’t afford to piss him off, nor did I want to. I wanted please him, to hand over the keys to my soul for him to take up occupancy. I needed to take purchase of the prime piece of real-estate—his heart. Old demons plagued my thoughts with their clever mind tricks, fighting their way to the surface—sneering that I would lose the man I’d come to love because of my deceitful heart. The mother of all motherfucking Karma was going to bite my ass—hard. I needed to lock these incessant, nauseating thoughts where they belonged—behind a door that had no moral key and slam it shut.
Looking to the left, I saw that a fire raged stunningly in a pastoral styled fireplace. Above, an erotic portrait of Abel. It was done in simple black and white. In one hand, he held a set of handcuffs. In the other, a red scarf—the exact red scarf I now held in my hand. Crackling embers radiated warmth to nurture my chilled body. Perfect spot! Unbuttoning my pants and blouse, I let them both pool at my feet. I then took off my bra and panties. Flames licked my skin, helping gentle the goose bumps that stepped forward across my body. Double-knotting the scarf around my head, I lowered to my knees, thankful for the plush carpet. I sent a silent thanks upward. God had no place here today. Today, I would be rejoicing, reveling, and partaking in rituals practiced by heathens. Tempering my breathing … Namaste. A shiver redirected my attention to the door as I searched my mind to identify its source. The squeak of the door knob stopped all thought process—all thinking.  His innate maleness seeped into my pores, cocooning my skin in his alpha scent—marking my heart as his. Instantly, my body recognized him. An unwilling groan escaped, making my nether region clench in anticipation. He chuckled.
                                                                        ~~~
"Very good. I see you followed my directions flawlessly. I see that beautiful pussy is shaved bare for me. This pleases me, Gia. And you will see how much very shortly. But, are you ready for your master?  If I part your folds will you be slick and hot for me?" His warm breath tickled my ear.
My mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water, until I finally croaked out, "Um, yes. I, um. I believe so, Abel.”  Christ, why am I reduced to a stuttering adolescent? He's fucking dangerous and hot, that's why! Steeling myself, I needed to woman the fuck up and show him who I am.
Palming my chin, he spoke gruffly, “Love, when we’re in this setting, I am your God, bringer of pleasure and pain.” He released me, clearly awaiting a response of praise.
“Yes, Sir. I understand perfectly,” I affirmed. My body chilled, knowing the moment he stepped away. The ring of the crystal decanter signaled loudly in the air. Rolling shudders had me clenching—hard. Moments ticked by at a snail’s pace and I wanted to rip my hair out. My frustration grew as he took his time, leaving me in a vulnerable position. He swallowed his drink. Padding back over in my direction, he brought that delicious signature scent of his my way.  It smelled of musk and something wild I couldn’t put my finger on.
“I’m going to taste you now,” he quantified. What? Christ on a motherfuckin’ cross! Two thick fingers teased my clit, round and round, spreading my silky juices along my seam, preparing me for his invasion. I held my breath. What else could I do?
“You smell like you want to be fucked.” He smiled appreciatively. “Breathe, Gia. Your God would like to sample you. I want to commit your taste to memory. Savor you on my tongue. Swallow your goodness,” he rasped, leaning into my ear. I wanted to scream just do it already. His scruffy beard ran along my face, leaving his mouth against my ear. Every breath, every heartbeat, every swallow was mine. I had a front row seat to an erotic movie that I starred in.
Holding my shoulders firmly with his left hand, he roughly entered my opening. One breath in, one long breath out.  With precision, he inserted two fingers inside me, keeping his thumb on my trigger. I ground against his palm.
“You will not come. Yet. Stay still or I’ll stop,” he affirmed.  Well, that did it! I needed release and I needed it now. Fuck. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I was thankful for the blindfold. He had to see how challenging this was for me. With a final, stretching thrust, he vacated my pussy. The scent of my juices permeated the air, releasing another gush of wetness. His sucking sound ended with a loud pop, followed by a growl of approval.
“Taste.” He fisted my hair, driving his fingers into my open mouth.
“Taste how sweet your pussy is?” he queried. I had the perfect opportunity to bring him to his knees. My tongue languidly snaked its way around his fingers, sucking greedily any remaining ambrosia—with my own kickass resounding pop. Umm… I purred my contentment. 
A seismic roar rumbled its way free from his alpha chest. Oh, he was affected. Breaking dominate control momentarily, he lunged forward and fisted my hair, his tongue forcing my mouth open. Damn this Dom! My lungs fought for air. My hands braced against his muscled chest, alive with the vibrations from the beast tethered within—Abel. Dizziness threatened to take me under. Pulling air into my nose, I took a breath. Consuming me from the inside out, he didn’t let up. Apparently, my survival was to be damned. My brain had only registered oxygen. Now I needed to return his kiss. My hands found their way up his neck into his thick hair.  Grabbing a fistful of it, I pulled. He answered my call with his masterful tongue and gnashing teeth. Needing his cock in my pussy now, I reached for it, feeling its thick steeliness through his jeans. He gently removed my hands.  Disappointed, I lowered my head, taking the opportunity to nourish my blood with oxygen. He forced my hands behind my back. I adjusted my position on the floor with the balls of my feet to steady myself.
“You have to earn that, babe. You haven’t earned my cock yet. And he has a bigger ego than I do.” He chuckled as he stood up, leaving me again. Was he serious? His dick had an ego?
The sound of drawers opening and closing to my left had me turning my head in that direction. My legs tingled with anticipation and lack of activity. I hoped I wasn’t going to be on my knees too much longer. The snap of something caught my immediate attention. Licking my dry lips, swallowing the golf ball sized knot, I readied myself. Sweet-smelling leather assailed my senses.
“Do you know what the cat o'nine tails is, Gia?” he asked. I did some Googling before this night, so I wouldn’t be ignorant to basic BDSM—knots, whips, and positions 101. I schooled myself quickly.
“Yes, Sir. A traditionally favored whip with nine separate tails,” I qualified. Quirking a smile, I awaited his answer. He answered by running the tails along my breasts … down to my pussy … snapping my clit to attention. Over and over again, my body became acquainted with this new form of torture. Legs shaking, I thrust myself to an upright position, hoping this little exercise would stop this embarrassing bodily display of minor earthquakes. No such luck. My body wanted to surrender to its master. My breathing ratcheted to panic-attack levels. An explosion of epic proportions was near. Whack!—across my behind. Ow!  “Fuck me!”
“Not nearly yet, sweetheart. That nice shade of red on your ass is making me hard as fuck, though,” he countered. Well, that’s not how I really meant it, but that’s exactly what I wanted—right the fuck now. He was turned on. And that turned me on. If his lash marks on my skin do it for him, I think, then so be it.
“I want to taste you, master. It’s only fair.” I was practically whining: throw me a fucking bone. This BDSM shit was killing me. I’m not a patient person by nature. So I deserved a reward for the restraint I had shown. The sound of his zipper lowering caught my attention. The lava started to trickle down my legs again.
“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” He stepped up, smearing his pre-cum on my lips. I moaned embarrassingly loud.
“Yes! More!” I demanded. He presented his cock to my tongue.  It stroked something unfamiliar. Was it a piercing? Bracing myself on his thick thighs, I fished for the object. Yep, he was pierced. Fuck me.
I expertly lavished it with my tongue, paying homage to this rock god. Maybe his cock deserved its own zip code? This was a locale I wanted to move to—like, now. Pushing forward, I sought his engorged bell. Licking, flickering, and tonguing at break-neck speed to the best of my ability, I made him roar. He ripped the scarf off, freeing my eyes from their prison. Sight was returned—though I couldn’t see a fucking thing. Squinting, I looked up toward his beautiful face; it was twisted in agony. He needed release. His eyes sparking with warning, he looked as if his thread-like hold on reality was virtually nonexistent. A sardonic smile pulled on his lips as he continued stroking his cock. Up. Down. Up. Twist. Down. Release. Up. Twist. Down. Release. His left hand squeezed his tightened sack roughly, his eyes glistening. His tongue snaked out to wet his plump lips. His sooty-lashed eyes closed for a moment as he blew out a long breath, battling for control. I gulped—hard. Something sparkly caught my upturned eyes, bringing my gaze back to his sack.
“Like what you see, babe?” He smiled proudly. It was then I noticed his tatted dick. Whoa. His cock was a kaleidoscope of vivid colors. The body of the dragon was done in green with the underside in orange scales, running the entire length of his cock, ending with the dragon’s head on his dick-head. His Apadravya shined brightly against the dragon’s head, looking like it was coming out of its mouth. His Mons provided the backdrop for the wings. I didn’t have enough time at the moment to quell my fascination. He was a work of art that I intended to worship fully.  I was over-stimulated visually, tilting my head awkwardly left, then right. What was that? I wasn’t naïve. I knew there were guys who pierced the head of their dick. Shit. One was right in front of me. But all along the dragon’s scaled underside were generous loops. Can’t say I ever saw that or even heard of that before.
“It’s called frenum loops, or Jacob’s ladder, babe. The one through my head is an Apadravya. You’ll be thanking me soon for it.” His toothy smile made me blush at my naïveté. He took my lip-licking as a signal for further instruction in How to Suck Abel’s Cock 101.
“Relax. Open real wide. Get it nice and wet,” he instructed. Relaxing my gag reflex, I readied my throat for his invasion. Not only did I have to worry about his girth, but his hardware as well. My mouth was desert-dry, so I pursed my lips to conjure up enough saliva to get the job done. The wide tip of his cock made its way past my lips, netting a groan from me of appreciation for this male. I lavished the small beads of pre-come on my tongue, relishing his heady taste. God damn. His hooded eyes caught mine as I acquiesced. I closed my eyes and sucked his head hard with a quick swirl around his Apadravya. I spit into my palm, pumping his cock once. Twice. A throaty groan made my clit swell. I loved his male sounds. I knew I was doing this right. I wanted more. More of him. More of that noise. Widening my mouth even further, I took his cock deeply. Paying close attention to his Jacob’s ladder with my tongue. The jingling within my mouth had me shuddering. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Tongue. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. His fingers found their home deeply embedded in my scalp, the pain making my eyes mist. Licking from base to tip, I was on repeat. His eyes bore into me, watching me intently, appreciatively.
Though I didn’t see him watching me, I knew he was. One final, swirling suck. I let my lips pop loudly. Making jerking sounds of wetness, I tried the impossible:  to swallow him. Breathing through my nose, I watched. He watched. I swallowed. The thickness of his cock swelling was all the indication I needed. He was ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed and opened to accommodate his girth further. Abel hissed his thankfulness by thrusting deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He growled loudly, face-fucking me into oblivion. Surprising even myself, I swallowed his gift of spicy goodness, humming my appreciation to this deity. Swallowing it down and suck-tonguing his Apadravya, I inwardly smiled as I milked every last drop of elixir.
                                                                        ~~~
With a final groan I fell back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue. Mentally and physically, I was wiped out. I rubbed my fingers through the filaments, trying desperately to soothe my restless soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where his was or what he was doing. His gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch.
“Oh, babe, we’re not done. Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent and scooped me up. Swaddled in his arms, I caught the look in his hooded eyes. A few long strides, and we were in his bedroom. He gently laid me on his king size bed, then stepped back.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in invitation.
“Nah, I’m good here for now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled sleepily.
He nodded and left through the en-suite. Raising myself up to my forearms, I took in his room. So this is his room here. Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of his palate choice, aside from his poppy-red, silk shantung comforter. Everything was simple, yet elegant. It was clear to me that Abel sought home comforts and swathed the hotel room with his possessions. I guess a life on the road was a lonely one. Cocooning myself in the lush bedding, I concluded there was no better place. And no better thing than his scent. Lord above, if I could bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick.  Grabbing his pillow, I brought it to my nose, inhaling his heady alpha scent. A groan escaped me, and my clit was beyond engorged, it needed release. I needed to steal this pillow.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly. Busted. He abruptly reached for my legs and pulled me across the bed. Holy shit. His eyes were alit with mischief. He pulled until my bottom was at the end of the bed. I laid there naked and started to feel self-conscious. I turned to grab the edge of the comforter.
“Don’t hide your body from me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see what’s mine. I want to taste your nectar,” he commands and I obey, spreading my legs. When he doesn’t respond, I get anxious. There’s a mirror on the wall next to the bed and I can see my reflection. What a turn on. Me watching him—us--as his eyes devoured my pussy. He removed his towel from his waist and turned to see me watching tentatively through the mirror. He grabbed hold of his thick cock, stroking and smiling as he watched me for a good long-ass minute. It was one big mind fuck—and I could barely hold my own. My blood boiled while I watched his erotic exhibition. Boy, was he a showman. He knelt down and seized both my thighs, pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of us in the mirror is suggestive. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling deeply.
“You’ve got such a pretty pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When I’m done, I’m going to fuck you like the devil. My cock will be everything you’ve wished for, babe!” He winked. Cocky motherfucker. Holding my legs in place, he dove face-first into my pussy, pushing his tongue deep inside me—growling, devouring. The sounds of him sucking, licking, and nipping my pussy had my muscles locking up. I reached for his hair. I needed to touch him. I wanted to hold his head to my pussy until I was good and ready to let go.
“Gia, put your damn hands above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he growled. I acquiesced. I would fucking die or kill someone if he stopped. Oh God, don’t stop.
“God has no place here, babe.” His voice was demonic. Did I just say that aloud? Never lifting his face from his meal, he pushed my knees almost flush against my chest, lathering his face in my juice. Oh, God. His growling, biting, and sucking were sounds I would never forget. He was feral. Possessed. Using two fingers, he started finger fucked me as he sucked my clit. My legs were shaking with deep vibrations and I started to rock my hips. Twisting the comforter in my hands, I started to scream my release. He didn’t stop. I barely registered the rumbling from his chest as I floated back down to earth. My eyes opened to a savage beast, leaning over to bite my inner thing. I yelped in surprise. He stood tall and proud, stoking his long, thick, massive cock; his face still glistening with my cum. Nothing registered to this alpha. He had one thing on his mind and that was sinking his gorgeous cock into my soaked pussy.
“You want this cock now, babe?” he asked through gritted teeth.  Still stroking his cock, he spit in his hand. Fucking hell.
“Please, Abel. I want you now,” I begged. I needed him now.
“Need to hear you say it, babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep into you.” His voice was barely audible.
The grit in his tone had me wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with it. He was watching me closely, his control threadbare.
“Abel, fuck me with that big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over my clit,” I hissed. That did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither could I. He teased the entrance with the head of his cock. Going agonizingly slow, he paid special attention to my clit with his Apadravya; back and forth, round and round. The pressure mounted. I couldn’t handle another second of the exquisite torture. I leaned forward and grabbed his cock—hard.
“Stop fucking with me, fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered by feeding me his cock—one motherfucking inch at a time.
“I have to loosen you up a bit. I can’t go balls deep yet. Let me work myself in there. Love my girls greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than fucking stone,” he growled breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes hooded, he fed me his delicious, scorching cock. He leaned down over my face, arms positioned on either side of my head. His warm breath hummed in my ear as his hand reached down to stroke my clit.
“Come on, babe. Open for me,” he rumbled. His thrusting became a bit harder and quicker, and I felt my body opening up for this mythical creature. My eyes closed tightly and I tried to wrap my legs around his waist to lock him in place.
“Not yet, babe. I haven’t worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you need to hang on.” He nipped my ear. I sighed. Fuck, I thought he was all the way in. Christ, I’m not built for this kind of torment. I reached down to his butt cheeks and clamped down with my hands, pulling him deeper into me. He corkscrewed his ass over and over. I screamed my pleasure.
“That’s it, mama. Scream for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he exclaimed. Biting my lip to stay present and not float away, I took a mental screenshot of this moment. I felt so full. My walls stretched to accommodate his girth. With each thrust, he sank deeper. And I fell a little harder. Yeah, I was fucked. Literally. The sound of my blood pumping through my veins roared in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it was my breathing or his that echoed around me. It was a hodgepodge of ecstasy. He placed his hands over mine, pinning them above my head.
“Arch your back for me, babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m going to own this pussy right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he asked, completely submitting. After all, this was what he asked for: complete and utter submission.
“That’s it, babe. Offer me that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my least favorite word sound like a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so alive, our bodies in tune with one another, rutting rhythmically in a crescendo of lust. His frenum rings hitting spots I’ve never sensed before, he manipulated my body with expert precision. I regarded his handsome face, relishing this beautiful man on top of me. His eyes bore into me with stealth precision. Looking directly into my soul, he smiled wickedly, then kissed me deeply. Arrogant prick. Yeah, he knew he was the best ride in town. Fuck me.
Grinding my heels into the mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for thrust. He moved his fingers from my clit. With his other hand still pinning my arms above my head, he pushed my right thigh up from under my knee. Just then, he hit a whole new angle and I lost it. Screaming his name, I clenched my pussy, squeezing his cock. As he jack-hammered me, I felt his head swell further. He released my hands, rushing to his knees. After a few long strokes of his dick, his hot, thick ropes of cum painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an artist, all right. His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was hurried, his body still. He looked like a fucking god—absolutely stunning. I will never get this image out of my head.
He finally opened his eyes—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I smiled in post-coital bliss. I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over and on top of me, kissing me with his full lips, coaxing my mouth open with his talented, wicked tongue, and not caring that his cum was smeared all over his body. Most men would mind. But he wasn’t most men.  I accepted with a moan.
He kissed me for a long while until sleep drew me under. I slept without dreams, with just the sensation floating behind my eyes of colorful, pastel swirls. I barely had a conscious thought; it felt much akin to Alice and the rabbit hole. My body was enveloped in his scent, marking me right down to the bone. I would forever be his—whether he knew it or not. His to control. His to do with as he wished. His to consume, to eat away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My veins ran with his essence, the fuel, the nourishment that my body craved. His melodic gritty voice carried me to the surface of consciousness. It was faint, but spoke to my heart—awakening me. I opened my eyes, seeking him out. He was singing an acappella version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t one of Lethal Abel’s. I listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference. Oh, I knew what it was!  It was his cover of “Dark Horse.” His had an edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful.  And more importantly, it was quintessential Abel. He mastered everything he did. It was always on his terms.
“Make me your cupid—
Make me your one and only
But don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy
So you wanna play with magic
Girl, you should know what you’re falling for
Baby, do you dare to do this?
‘Cause I’m coming at you like a dark horse
Are you ready for a perfect storm, a perfect storm?
‘Cause once you’re mine, there’s no going back …”
(Listen to OLN’s version of Dark Horse here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKVknRFEhpc.)
Oh, God. His version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I laid back down and let his voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his gravelly tones—carrying me to him.



Brody Haight - Follow on Facebook
**COMING: October 20, 2014**


MeetTheAuthor
I grew up reading Judy Blume, and Nancy Drew books. I was raised in the town of North Valley Stream, New York(Long Island), and attended community college for fashion design. At 19 years old I opened a boutique. Recently, I published my second novel Beautiful Lies(erotica). Saving Abel(Erotic-Rock-Romance) will be my third and will be published June 30th. When I'm not writing, you can find me with friends and family. I live in Massapequa, NY with my two beautiful boys PJ and Drew, and our Mastiff Hercules. Reading has always been a passion and obsession. You can usually find me typing furiously while shouting obscenities over my latest WIP. My guilty pleasures are: a good laugh, being snarky, espresso, Pistachio ice-cream, alternative music, sunflower seeds, I.P.A's, Twizzlers, and above all steamy swooning angst filled novels. I'm pathologically obsessed with True Blood(Eric ;), Games of Thrones, White Queen, Vampire Diaries, Resurrection, and The Originals. If you'd like to chat. Hit me up on Facebook or twitter.

 

 



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