Hero: Ryder Cavanaugh, Marquess of Raventhorne. Has never met a woman who wouldn’t happily fall at his feet–or into his bed…until Lady Mary Cynster.

Heroine: Lady Mary Cynster has been waiting years for this opportunity.  She knows exactly who she wants –and it’s not someone as wild, unmanageable, and sinfully seductive as Ryder Cavanaugh.

Passion erupted. Held back for so long, it raged unrelenting, unforgiving. It whipped them along, harder and faster, whirling them through the age-­old dance and straight into the flames and the fire.
Up, and higher, harder, and yet more furiously needy, they gasped and raced, driving for the peak, the ultimate pinnacle of intimate joy.
Their hearts thundered; their breaths came in raspy pants. Locked together, striving together, they yearned and stretched, reached and sought.
She was as caught as he, as subject to the passion they’d unleashed, yet she was aware and was with him, much more so than the first time, able to sense and feel, know and appreciate the turbulent power they’d evoked. Provoked.
Physical and ephemeral; even as they gasped and clung, she felt his hands on her, felt his awareness of her, felt how through his body he spoke to her, through hers, through her senses.
No words could breach this plane, could encompass this elemental reality.
Making love could, and did.
She tightened around him and they raced on through the searing wonder.
And in a heady rush of pounding joy they found that pinnacle, their oh-­so-­desired destination, without pause leapt past and on and flew.
Tension imploded. Sensation, molten and scalding, erupted and flashed outward from where they joined, flooding their veins, sinking deep into their flesh.
They shattered. She screamed; he roared.
Ecstasy speared through them, broke them, wracked them.
Caught by her own primal contractions, she felt him stiffen in her arms, felt the heat of his seed pulse deep within her.
She surrendered. Felt him do the same.
And ecstasy’s benediction flooded them, a blessing so richly sensuous it brought tears to her eyes and made her cling.
To that moment, so fleeting, so precious.
Then it faded, as it always would, yet even as she let go and, with him buried deep within her, connected beyond the physical, sank into satiation’s sea, she knew that it—­that moment of ultimate intimate communion—­would always exist, would always be there, waiting for them, forever a part of them.
Satisfied beyond measure, lips gently curved, she let bliss draw her into its embrace.
Ryder slumped on top of her, too wracked to move.
Too wrung out to think, to even care.
The danger had been there—­and he’d fallen.
His last conscious thought before he surrendered was: Is this how it feels to be conquered?

The Taming Of Ryder Cavanaugh by Stephanie Laurens releases June 25th – Goodreads l Kindle l Nook