The new Dollhouse Society novel is now live! Get ready for a late-winter heatwave!
Author: Eden Myles
Series: The Dollhouse Society
Secretive. Seductive. Scandalous.
Discover the secret behind the mysterious Dollhouse Society, an exclusive collection of powerful men and women and the modern-day courtesans and courtiers who service them…
Morgan Fawkes is a self-proclaimed control freak. As acquisitions editor of Harper House’s romance imprint, she has to be. And yes, the fact that she runs the romance department but has never had a romance that’s lasted more than six months is not lost on her. Talk about cosmic irony. Then her boss, Malcolm Sloan, suggests she try on the life of a courtesan for size, just for a little while…and he has the perfect gentleman in mind. Malik Tallman, ex-MMA fighter and CEO of Graffiti Records, is a hard man from a troubled past. As founder of one of the biggest record labels in the country, Malik does not suffer fools lightly. As a gentleman, his brutal, unforgiving disciplines are legendary…and not for the faint of heart. If Morgan wants to succeed as his courtesan, she must learn quickly to submit completely or suffer the sweet wrath at the end his merciless flogger. Too soon it’s a war of wills between Morgan and Malik–a war that might just leave both of them changed forever.
This book is a work of erotica and is rated Sextreme. 18 years and older only, please.
Download a Three-Chapter Excerpt: https://courtesanpress.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/his_to_tame_excerpt.pdf
“Morgan,” Tallman intoned, standing by the mantel, a hand in one pocket. “I gave you a direct order. You also failed to address me correctly when you first arrived, so I wouldn’t compound my punishment, if I were you.”
My mouth dropped open and I almost protested that, then reconsidered. I had agreed to do this. I would do this.
I can do this, I thought, getting to my feet and unbuttoning my blouse. He watched me intently while I stripped off my blouse and then reluctantly went to work on my skirt. I hesitated when I was down to my underwear and stockings, shivering in the room even though it was warm, thanks to the fireplace crackling away, blind to this, my greatest humiliation. “I’m not really used to this,” I mumbled. “I’m a pretty modest person.”
“It’s not as if I haven’t seen every private part of you already, Morgan,” he intoned.
His words made my legs shake and a blush creep up my neck. I thought about how I’d acted like some sex-starved hussy the other night, doing everything he wanted, giving myself over to him to use as he saw fit. He was right, of course. He’d touched and tasted me everywhere. I unclipped my bra, then, not looking at him, slid my panties down, leaving on just my black silk pull-up stockings and heels, as par his instructions. My immediate instinct was to cover myself—not just modesty but the sheer vulnerability of being naked in a room where he was not—but I forced my shoulders back and stood up straight to meet his even gaze.
His eyes glittered as he nodded for me to continue.