(CLUB PARADISO BOOK 1)
by Nia Farrell
Part of Little Black Dress anthology from Perfectly Poisoned Anthologies.
Anthology release date November 20, 2020.
Links to be added
A naturally submissive American woman is paired with a Dominant prince at a fantasy resort’s grand opening.
Club Paradiso is a fantasy resort owned by the Paradiso Luxury Resort in partnership with Replay resort in the States. Located on a privately owned island in the Caribbean, Club Paradiso caters to the rich and decadent. Its invitation-only grand opening has drawn royalty, nobility, heads of state, and pop culture personalities from around the world. At the top of the guest list is Estefan Gianopoulos, crown prince of the Kingdom of Varra and the world’s richest bachelor, thanks to a gemstone unique to his tiny Balkan country.
The security to the event is being provided by an elite force of trained agents, former soldiers, and bodyguards, some in uniform and some dressed to blend in with the A-list crowd. Estefan is planning his own undercover operation as soon as his “date” gets here. He intends to flex his Dominant muscles with a sex professional versed in BDSM protocol who’ll arrive in a little black dress.
The trouble is, nearly every woman at the party is wearing a fashion classic and none of them looks like the red-headed woman he hired.
He isn’t happy when his escort for the evening turns out to be a brunette in need of an attitude adjustment.
Kira Reese Conners cares nothing for wealth or rank. In a borrowed dress and lethal heels, she feels a bit like Cinderella when she’s reluctantly paired with the Crown Prince of Varra at the Club Paradiso opening gala. She’s sworn to keep the Dominant prince’s BDSM lifestyle a secret, but who’ll keep her inner submissive safe if she agrees to a kinky play date with him?
#Cinderella #fairytale #BDSM #royalty #kneelfortheDominantnotfortheprince
Excerpt 1 (179 words, PG13):
“Kira,” he murmured. “An unusual name. Family?” Her father was a famous Hollywood stuntman. Her mother taught yoga, which explained that body of hers.
“N-no,” she croaked, watching in rapt fascination as he adjusted himself.
A ten-inch missile was coming her way as soon as he could figure how to do it without causing an international incident.
“My parents were anime and sci-fi fans,” she explained. “They named me after Akira and Kyle Reese from The Terminator.”
He arched a brow and silently applauded their tastes. No cookie-cutter name for an Olympic-level shootist who’d trained in multiple martial arts and provided personal protection for rock stars, actors, billionaires, and dignitaries.
He knew basic self-defense and was an expert fencer but given all the black belts she had to go with that deliciously sinful black dress of hers, he realized that she’d let him disarm her. Had let him take her purse. She had willingly surrendered her power, knowing she could stop things at any time.
Exactly what a submissive would do.
Suddenly, the evening looked promising once more.
Excerpt 2 (429 words)
“I’m going to remove your holster. It’s tearing up your skin.”
She rolled her eyes. “And where am I supposed to put my gun?”
“Your clutch,” he said, “after I’ve taken care of this.”
Unbuckling the holster, he pulled it free of her body and laid it aside. Tearing open the foil pack, he pulled out the alcohol pad and turned back to see that her knees were shut as tight as a miser’s purse.
He looked pointedly at her reddened thigh. “Legs apart, pet. I’m going to swab you down, then doctor you up. I need room to work and you’re not giving me any.”
“Damn straight,” she murmured, glaring at him, daring him to force the issue.
Two could play that game.
He gave her his best Dom look. It had worked before. It worked again. The minx grit her teeth and growled at him before grudgingly moving one leg far enough to afford access to the entire site.
Estefan nodded his approval. “Good girl,” he hummed. Leaning over her, he swabbed the reddened patch of skin with alcohol. Breath hissed between her teeth at the sting. He dipped his head and blew on her thigh.
Kira Reese Connors stopped breathing.
He did it again, as an experiment, to see what she would do. She shivered and tightened her hands into white-knuckled fists, denying the urge to push him away—
Or pull him closer? The scent of feminine musk was mistakable.
“Once more,” he rasped, wishing like hell that third times actually were charms. To have this woman submit to him would be his greatest triumph.
She bit back a moan and spread her legs wider.
“There now,” he crooned, pleased with her response. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Where your skin is broken, I can’t use arnica cream to promote healing. I’m going to blend petroleum jelly and triple antibiotic cream to use. Plain petroleum jelly will keep it from scabbing and scarring, but I don’t want it to get infected. Are you allergic to anything? Are those going to be safe to use on you?”
“Yes, Sir. Sire!”
She rushed to correct her slip but it was too late. He’d heard it and she knew it.
“They’re fine,” she whispered hoarsely, disturbed that she’d shown her hand instead of keeping her cards close to her cleavage. She wanted him to think that she was unaffected, but her body had betrayed her. Her jade eyes had grown smoky and languid, her cheeks were flushed, and the scent of her arousal was thick enough to bottle.