Breaking His Rules by Aliza Mann
April 2, 2019 by Ballantine Group/ Loveswept
An international playboy finds true love in a sexy new standalone contemporary romance from Aliza Mann.
Ashton Lyle is a man in control. His rules are simple:
And lucky for him no one is able to resist his mega-watt smile, dazzling wit, sexy British accent, and ability to manipulate any situation in business . . . and in bed.
That is, until he meets a woman with rules of her own.
Terra Ellis is a self-made woman who knows what she wants.
A successful entrepreneur, she has worked hard to cultivate an impeccable image.
A tumultuous relationship with her ex-husband has reinforced her drive but it has also made her question serious relationships.
After all, a busy woman has no time for romance.
That is, until Terra meets a man who sees through her façade.
Ashton and Terra are about to discover that some rules were made to be broken. . . .
“I . . . I have never had sex outdoors. I’ve never been tied up. Those are things I’ve never trusted anyone to do to me—with me, I mean,” she said.
While that perhaps wasn’t the wildest sexual fantasy I’d ever heard, the last part got me. I’ve never trusted anyone . . . “So, do you want to do it now? Am I the person you can trust enough to fulfill those fantasies?” Fear gripped me. Not of her response, but of the fact that I wanted to do it. I wanted to be the one.
“I don’t know . . . are you?” Terra’s body tensed. There was something radiating from her that hadn’t been there before. She was holding on to my arm around her waist as if, should she let go, she would drift away.
I bent lower and kissed her on top of her head. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Terra,” I said into her hair. “But I want you to know, I would never walk out of here and leave you tied up, alone. I would never put you in a position where you held no power. I’m a lot of things, but neither of those. So if that is want you want, let’s explore together. If not, we can get dressed, go downstairs for something to eat or drink, and then you can kick me out at your whim.”
For a time, as if she were contemplating the national debt, she was still and quiet. She was silent for so long I honestly thought she was going to kick me out on the spot. Then, when I was sure she’d fallen asleep while pondering her answer, she purred, “Okay, let’s do it.”
Ollie sprang to life, because he wasn’t the kind of cock to miss an opportunity. I did a quick mental check and thanked my obsessive compulsion to be ever ready for the remaining condom. “Okay. I know just the thing. All you need to do is tell me if I do something that makes you nervous or when you want me to stop. Can you do that?” I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. I wanted to look at her face to make sure I wasn’t pushing her in my zeal to give her something she would remember.
When she shifted in my arms and turned to face me on the bed, I could see both fear and excitement mixed in her expression. “I can,” was all she said.
I took the opportunity to kiss her firmly and slow on her mouth to let her know I was there. I would take care of her. When I felt her relax in my arms, I pulled away. “Pantyhose?” It wasn’t something that women seemed to wear anymore, but I figured I had a better chance with that than a tie.
“Tights,” she said in nearly a whisper. Sitting up on the bed, she wore a pensive expression along with her body language. Pulling her knees into her chest, she wrapped both arms around them as if anchoring herself.
I sat up beside her and leaned into her, putting my face directly in her line of sight, and said, “I’m here with you right now. I’m going to take care of you. I don’t know if that’s happened for you in some time, and you definitely don’t appear to be a woman seeking someone to do that for you, but for the next few hours, I just want you to feel. Can you do that?”
Her eyes flickered with what seemed like questioning. With trembling lips, she placed her hand on my arms and lowered her legs. “Yes,” she said finally.
I moved in slow, tamping down the need to conquer that was crawling through my veins to kiss her gently on her full lips. Tension seemed to ease from her as she pressed against me, her mouth warm against mine. I pulled away because two more seconds and we wouldn’t have made it out of the bed. “Where are those tights of yours, Terra?” I asked, and damned if it didn’t sound like a growl in my own ears.
“I’ll get them,” she said. Terra released me and moved from the bed to her dresser, the movement of her naked body across the floor a symphony of sensuality. I took a deep breath to center myself. Her room was illuminated only by the light of the en suite bathroom. I probably wouldn’t have been able to contain myself if all the lights were on. She pulled open a drawer and I noticed her take out a small black case, like a gun case. I could understand her having one, but the sight of it gave me pause. Not enough for my cock to notice, since apparently Ollie was fucking shameless.
She placed the case on top of the dresser and pulled out a ball of fabric, closed the drawer, turned, and walked back. As a red-blooded man, I should have been watching her teardrop-shaped breasts on display, but instead I was content to watch her face—the way the shadows illuminated its planes and curves, the naughty, crooked smile she sported, as if she was keeping a dirty secret. There were stories in her eyes and I wondered if I’d be allowed in on her thoughts. Shouldn’t have. But I wanted to know all the things she was too afraid to tell her girlfriends. Too dark for the light of day.
“Are these the mysterious tights?” I asked, making no attempt to camouflage my ignorance of women’s undergarments.
“Mysterious? Trust me, they aren’t mysterious. After a couple of hours wearing them, you’ll want to burn the damn things. Even if they do make your ass look great.”
“Good to know. Next time I’m at the mall, I’ll grab a pair,” I said, a smirk I couldn’t help on my face. I rose to meet her and noticed I towered over her when she wasn’t wearing her shoes. I grabbed her hands and took the silky material from her. “Arms behind your back or at your sides?” I asked. Her comfort was paramount if she was to feel safe.
“Back. Behind my back. In my mind . . .” she started, but hesitated. Her brow creased and she looked at me with embarrassment creeping into her expression. “I don’t . . .”
“Terra, we don’t have to do anything you’re nervous about, but the goosebumps on your flesh hint at excitement.” I wanted her to know that she didn’t have to be ashamed of expressing her sensuality with me. “This is about you. You guide the pace. You take the wheel. I’m yours for a few hours and will obey”—I raised her hands to my lips and guided a forefinger into my mouth, sucking first gently, then with more force before releasing—“your every request.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Ever since she was a small child, Aliza Mann loved to tell stories. It started in the backyard of her family’s home where she shared them with the neighborhood kids. Through the years she read anything she could get her hands on. In high school she found her love for romance. From the moment she opened the cover of a romantic historical page-turner, she found herself hooked.
Actively employed, she balances her love of writing a great story between two pseudo-adult children, a fabulous son-in-law, and the man of her dreams. A true book nerd, she is almost always reading and writing the world in a way that shows its true beauty, served with a heaping side of happily ever after. Aliza is also active in RWA and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America organizations.