Reading anything is a subjective experience, but reading kinky erotic romance is possibly the most subjective thing of all. What turns one person on makes another person cringe. It’s all very personal and that can make choosing an kinky erotic romance a bit of a challenge. In order to help you determine if kINKED is the right book for you here are a sampling of short excerpts from some of the stories:
Excerpt from “Through Glass a Stranger” by Renee Dominick
Her hands trembled as she lifted the binoculars and found him standing there, one palm pressed against the window. He stared across the expanse between them. Seemingly at her.
Blood surged through her veins, spiked like a prom punch, and she fumbled away the binoculars. She started to reach for them but told herself to let them be. Her habit had become an addiction, one she needed to control. And anyway, he was changing the rules. She snatched up the remote instead, pointed it at her window, and pressed the button. Her blinds lowered with slow, mechanical precision, closing him off from her prying eyes.
And his eyes from her.
Her fingers gripped the arms of her chair and she took a moment to regulate both her breathing and her heartbeat. They had something anonymous and satisfying.
Why was he ruining it now?
When the blue door swung open, Melissa lost her ability to speak as her gaze swept over the man she presumed to be the tattoo shop owner. Warm, amber light outlined his lithe yet strong figure, his dark, unruly hair, and the tattered jeans precariously slung about his narrow hips. He wore a gray t-shirt that clung to his chest as if he’d been standing in the rain, and where cotton ended, color began. Every inch of his muscular arms were covered in radiant koi fish, dark, twisty woodlands, long-dead rock stars, and lines and lines of block letters and script.
Melissa’s fingers tingled as an overwhelming desire to sketch him stretched through her arms. As far as drawing subjects were concerned, he was her type, someone who would be more at home on the battlefield than lounging nude in the heavens flanked by angels. Well, the nude part would be okay.
Melissa reached for the pencil she routinely kept in the back pocket of her jeans. But having forgotten where she was and what she was wearing—a black pencil skirt and a sequined top—she grasped nothing but air. Coming up empty, she clutched the arm nearest her, unsure of which friend it belonged to in the moment. She was afraid if she didn’t hold something, anything, she’d reach forward to trace her fingertips along the elegant arcs of color on this stranger’s forearms.
Excerpt from “Begin Again” by Tiffany Michelle Brown
Excerpt from “For the Occasion” by Brantwijn Serrah
I thought of how Selene could seem to drift away during those times, to float through the experience in such bliss. For me, such contentment came through pain. Like this, here: the needle laying down ink, drawing tiny pearls of blood to the surface of my skin. It always hit me hardest in the beginning, testing my limit with the first twinge. Once I accepted it into me, though, the dangerous joy started rising, slow and full of promise. I became so aware of every part of me, every inch of flesh bathed in the adrenal response, and the thrill of endurance. It might not be the same soft, tender pleasure Selene enjoyed at my hands in the shower, but it cleansed me all the same. Ratcheted me up with excitement; flooded my veins with heat and need; made me intoxicated. Paul’s needle now roamed over my skin the way my eyes and hands roamed over Selene, and I knew she followed it too, watching over the work unfolding, witnessing the marking of my body for her.
“Do you know how long we’ve dreamed of this? Of having you pinned between us, helpless, needing?” Lukas’ fingers found her nipples through her shirt and pinched hard. “From the beginning, Zoe. Since you stumbled from your fiery ship, soot-smudged and bleeding, and all you cared about was making sure we weren’t hurt. Since we first heard you laugh, first saw you bite your lip when you realized you wanted us.”
Excerpt from “Sae-ri” by Nicole Blackwood
Excerpt from “Painted Red” by Sara Dobie Bauer
Angie’s phone binged the following morning. Naked, she rolled over in bed under black sheets and stretched her tattooed arm for her cluttered bedside table. Before reaching for her phone, she reached for a cup of water, which she put away like a damn camel, then she looked at the text alert and smiled.
A message from Ben: “Who put this elephant on my face?”
She typed back: “I can think of something else I’d like to put on your face.”
There was a pause in the text conversation until: “Don’t tell me you have a tattoo down there, too?”
She bit her lip and replied, “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Since he didn’t respond, she liked to imagine her little tease had sent Mr. Manners to his knees.
Texts continued throughout the week.
Occasionally, she texted him pictures of her tattoos—most of the ones under her clothes, less obvious than her sleeves. When she requested he send a similar picture, Ben sent one of himself making a hilariously excited face at the top of Camelback Mountain, his red hair glistening with sweat.
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