Revenge of the Wronged
by Hettie Ivers
Werelock Evolution #3
Publication Date: October 11, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Paranormal
Bad-boy werelock meets stubborn human girl in this epic series.
Finding love at first sight with your fated soul mate sounds so romantic. Unless, of course, that “mate” happens to be your brother’s sworn enemy and the overbearing Alpha werewolf-warlock who has taken you hostage.
Things get complicated in this twisty love-hate trilogy about a stubborn American girl who stumbles upon forbidding paranormal circumstances and finds herself at the center of a blood feud between rival South American werewolf packs.
The task of taming a formidable,
drop-dead sexy werelock has never been so hard.
And so hot.
In
Revenge of the Wronged, the highly anticipated finale to the first trilogy in the Werelock Evolution series, Milena Caro will face her greatest challenges yet.
Torn between her loyalty to her brother and her growing affection for his nemesis, Alex Reinoso, Milena vies to salvage some remnant of her former life as she becomes increasingly enmeshed in the bitter feud between werewolf packs.
Will blood prove thicker than water? Will the ill-fated blood curse Milena wields destroy her and all those she holds dear?
In the struggle between good and evil, ideals and reality often clash. And in this game of survival amid conniving, bloodthirsty supernatural opponents,
it’s the player no one saw coming who will change all the rules.
**Mature Content Warning** This book contains violence, strong language, and graphic sex and is intended for adult readers.
EXCERPT:
My eyes
flew open to find the face of the lost little boy in the mall reflected back at
me. Hurt. Scared. Yet still hopeful of salvation.
“Maybe you’re
afraid to find out what you might mean to me,” he said, the words delivered
with the innocence of a choirboy, spoken as if he was processing them for the
first time himself. “Maybe it terrifies you to know that you’ve always belonged
with someone like me.”
Or maybe it
terrified him. Either way, it was the sincerity in
his eyes that stumped me. I had no defense, no good comeback for that. He must
have sensed my wavering reticence, my tremulous resolve, because his next play
went straight for the kill.
Those
hypnotic eyes never left mine as his hands skimmed around my hips and up my
sides, traveling gently over my quivering stomach up to my heaving chest. His
touch was tender, but oh, so very proprietary! His fingertips traced my
collarbone at the leisurely pace of one who has infinite time, dipping between
the valley of my breasts and then circling around my slight, fleshy mounds with
the confidence of one who holds exclusive privilege.
And as
adept hands proceeded to more intimately discover me through the thin barrier
of my henley and bra, it served to illustrate two very important, disconcerting
facts: My legs really were locked around his waist in a wanton death
grip; and I was in way over my head.
“I know
it’s all happening fast, and you’re scared, but I’ll be so gentle … so
careful,” he pledged. “I won’t hurt you.” His thumb rolled casually over my
nipple where it lay crested beneath a layer of cotton. My eyelids grew heavy;
my vision blurred as I arched into his hand.
A hint of a
smile warmed his eyes. “I promise, my sweet girl.” His lips ghosted mine,
searching for a boundary—tempting me to let it down. “No matter how much I want
you, I won’t take anything from you you’re not ready to give.”
His lips
tentatively touched and retreated, teeth gently captured and released, sucked
and nibbled, then abandoned, again and again, until my fingers had crept around
his neck and I was straining forward in my attempt to follow his retreating,
teasing mouth each time he pulled away from me.
“That’s
it,” he said, nipping my lower lip, “show me what you want. I promise you can
have it.” My lips moved hesitantly over his, kissing him back. “So safe … so
slow … ”
He was
palming both of my breasts in his capable hands, stimulating my nipples in a
way that had me aching and seeping desire between my thighs.
“Just want
to explore,” he professed ingenuously, before too briefly slipping his tongue
in and out of my willing mouth in an inciting kiss, “… play a little.” I moaned
and lightly bit his full bottom lip as he’d done mine, silently demanding his
tongue again. “Help you find out what you like … show you how good you can feel
…”
With
another whimper he at last gave me his tongue back. And then some! Thrusting
deeply, invading fully, he had me all too quickly teetering on a surprisingly
delicate precipice between pleasure and pain—one that went so much further than
physical awareness alone.
His tongue
overwhelmed mine, staking irrefutable claim to the inner sanctum of my mouth
with a quiet dominance that both enslaved and freed me, awakening my senses to
a whole new world and a part of myself I wasn’t sure I was prepared to know.
He groaned
into my mouth as his tongue stroked my depths in a manner that felt thoroughly
indecent—so shockingly naughty, considering it was only a kiss.
Except it
wasn’t “only” anything. It was everything. It spoke volumes to how he felt
about me. How much he did want me—even if it was a game. And I knew
without a doubt that he’d keep hammering away at my meager defenses until that
hard girth of his that I was once again shamelessly grinding myself upon was
thrusting intensely inside of me, owning my body the way his tongue was
presently possessing my mouth.
About Hettie Ivers
Hettie Ivers engages in legal battles by day and smut storytelling by night. Hettie favors stories in which realistic, relatable characters must navigate fantastical, larger-than-life circumstances. She's a sucker for sexy antiheroes, underdogs, and flawed protagonists, and she enjoys fresh spins on classic tropes with a sprinkling of satire.
