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PLEASURE POINT
by Eden Bradley
This is your Invitation to Eden, an exciting series coming in 2014 from 27 of the biggest names in sizzling hot romance. Join us as we take you on an exciting adventure to Eden, where anything…and everything goes!
The island always knows what you need…Miranda lives in paradise— the exclusive Eden resort, the ultimate in fantasy retreats.
Roan, the resort’s dungeon consultant, lives part-time on the island and full-time in the past.
When the sexy Dominant and the sultry pastry chef both receive one of the island’s mysterious invitations they spend a sizzling week together in the dungeon suite. They’re left breathless, wanting more… and hopelessly falling.
Both have been scarred by loss, both have created a nearly impenetrable shell. The intensity and intimacy of kink might be the perfect recipe to open Miranda’s heart again. But can the man who fulfills her every secret desire ever give her what she needs the most?
Book Excerpt
Roan led her
to a small sofa upholstered in diamond-tucked red leather and waited for her to
sit before seating himself next to her.
“So, here we
are,” he said, reaching for a tumbler of water on the table in front of them
and pouring her a glass, handing it to her. “Summoned by the Master of the
island.”
“Yes, I
suppose so.”
He touched
his fingers to the glass, gave it a small nudge. “Drink, Miranda. And tell me
what you think of this place.”
She found
herself sipping from the glass, following his instructions.
This is crazy.
She set the
glass down on the table and took a moment to look around, noticing the gorgeous
and luxurious equipment. There were red leather spanking benches, gleaming
chrome chains dangling from the ceiling, some ending in red and black padded
leather cuffs. At regular intervals along the slick red and black walls in
between the seating areas were shining chrome racks holding floggers, paddles
and whips. And the entire room was reflected in enormous, chrome-framed mirrors
mounted on the walls. Beautiful and wicked-looking.
“It’s
spectacular. Nothing but the best for the Eden resort, so it doesn’t surprise
me. But I think I expected there to be other people here,” she said, glancing
around, her nerves beginning to prickle at the back of her neck simply from
being in the same room—this deliciously wicked room—with Roan Abrams.
“Did you?
You knew where you were going, then?”
“Of course. The invitation said to go to Club Sin.”
His eyes
were dark, searching her face. “You knew this wasn’t a bar? A dance club?”
“I work
here. On the island.”
“Ah. So do
I. Well, I come in as a consultant. Tell me what you do here, Miranda.”
“I’m the
head pastry chef. But according to the invitation I have the next week off.”
He reached
out and stroked her cheek with one warm fingertip, like a tiny shock of need
against her skin. There was a small but cocky grin on his generous mouth. “You
bake sweets, do you?”
He was too
damn handsome. Too commanding. Too… everything. She pulled back. “Which I’m
sure you’ve eaten, if you’ve been on the island.”
“I’m certain
I have. Working with sugar suits you.”
“You don’t
know anything about me.”
God, why was
she being so rude to this man? Maybe because his stunning good looks and
natural dominance were making her think about things she shouldn’t even be
considering.
Like his
hand coming down on her bare ass. Pulling her hair hard while he kissed her
breathless.
God…
He leaned
closer, lowering his voice, and she caught his scent—something spicy and
earthy. Provocative. “No? I believe I know at least two things about you. One,
you were invited here to meet me
apparently, since, as you pointed out, we are the only ones here. And two,” he
paused, his voice a quiet murmur, “the pulse in your lovely throat is racing.”
“Oh.” She
put her hand to her neck for a moment, saw him watching and dropped it down to
her side. She had to get herself under control. She cleared her throat. “Why do
you think we were invited here? I don’t know what the Master could have been
thinking.”
“Am I so
repulsive to you, then?”
“What? No,
of course not.” Then she saw the teasing twinkle in his eye, the slight curve
of his lips, and her cheeks flamed. “I mean, no. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You
weren’t.”
Her gaze
narrowed on his. “And you’re having an awful lot of fun playing with me.”
“Ah, I hope
to.”
She shook
her head. “You’ve got the wrong girl, Mr. Abrams.”
Doesn’t he?
“Roan,” he
said. “And I’m fairly certain—quite certain—I don’t. I have a particular knack
for these things. You are definitely the right girl, in the right place. With
the right Dominant. And even if I were fallible in this regard, Mr. Vardalos is
rarely wrong about these things—sending out the invitations. From what I’ve
heard.”
“I’ve heard
plenty myself, but I don’t know how much of it to believe and how much is
simply clever marketing for Eden.”
“I doubt the
resort needs much in the way of marketing since it’s by invitation only. Our
benefactor has plenty of money—he didn’t build this place because he needs to
turn a profit.”
“He’s my
employer, not my benefactor. I work hard for my paychecks.”
“Of course.
I never meant to imply anything else.”
She really had
to calm down and stop being so damn defensive. This man wasn’t anything she
couldn’t handle.
Oh, you are such a liar. Half the
conversation has been calculated mind-fuck.
It was
working, damn it. She crossed her legs against the warm ache between them.
She cleared
her throat again. “So, what do you do for Mr. Vardalos?” she asked.
“I designed
this place, for a start. About four years ago. And the Victorian spanking
suite, and the other BDSM suites. He has me back here periodically to make
changes, to check equipment, come up with new ideas.”
“You
designed this place? The club?”
“Yes, and
much of the equipment.”
“Oh…” It
came out on a soft breath. Her fingers tightened on her small clutch purse.
This man—this Dominant—was definitely going to be more than she was ready for.
He was the real thing, high caliber in the kink realm, obviously. No weekend
player. Oh, yes, far too real for her, no matter how insanely attracted to him
she was. “I think…I think this was a mistake.”
“Again,
Miranda, I’m certain it wasn’t.”
She stood.
“No. It was definitely a mistake. Look, Roan…I don’t mean to be rude. Really.
But I’m not…this is not for me. None of this. You. This place. I have to go.”
“Miranda—”
© Eden Bradley 2014
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Author Info
As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her BDSM and kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences.
Eden has appeared regularly on Playboy Radio's 'Night Calls' and the Hollywood In the Flesh readings. She loves art, shoes, tattoos, reading smutty books, chocolate and sex, of course, not necessarily in that order.
You can visit her websites: EdenBradley.com or her group blog Smutketeers.com
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Group blog: http://www.smutketeers.com/
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