British Bad Boys Boxed Set Out Now! #badboysboxed

Come and spend time with a dirty-talking London tattoo artist, a Scottish bad boy, a British gangster who won’t take no for an answer, and MORE! These men are all hotter than hell and have accents to die for. Whatever your desire, you’ll find it within these pages.

Packed full of standalone, steamy stories with no cliff-hangers and happy-ever-afters guaranteed, you won’t want to miss out on this limited collection, available for a short time only!

I wake with a start. There’s someone in my bed with his arm strewn casually across my middle. There are two giveaways that it’s a he—the hair on his arm, tickling against my hand resting on top of it, and the erect cock pressing up to  my arse.

I draw in a deep breath to calm down. It’s Thunder. I’m in his bed in his hotel room. I’m so used to waking up on my own that his presence truly unnerved me at first. My heart is still thumping hard but I’m not scared anymore. Now it’s because I’m so aware of his hard body all around me contrasting with my softness.

Torn between moving and staying completely still, I give a little wiggle as the stiffness in my back from being in the same position for so long becomes too much. Thunder groans and pushes harder into me. He curls his arm around my waist and squeezes, moulding me against him.

Is he awake? I can’t tell so I freeze. As desperate as I am to feel more of him, I don’t want to wake him up. What if he’s a grumpy riser? Now I wish I’d paid more attention when Amy read out random and apparently interesting facts from her magazines. I might know his morning routine if I’d paid attention. It’s crazy what details teenage fans seem to find fascinating about random celebs.

He stirs further, but this time his hand strays with purpose. He moves it higher and grabs my breast, his thumb lazily sweeping over my nipple.

“Mmm.” I relax back into him, confident now that he’s awake.

“Morning, sunshine,” he purrs, kissing the nape of my neck and plucking at my nipple. It hardens to his touch.

“Morning,” I reply huskily. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” He slides his hand down over my stomach and lower, into my pubic hair. “You?”

“Really good, thanks.”

His fingers slip down and I part my thighs so he can cup my pubis and rest his fingers between my damp lips.

“But the waking up is better,” I gasp as he rubs my clit. I can’t believe how turned on I already am.

“I’m usually grumpy when I get up, but I’m horny because I’m getting up today.” He presses his cock into my bum even harder. “If you get what I mean.”

“I feel you, bro.” I chuckle.

“Ooh, kinky.” He laughs and I roll to face him.

“You know what I mean.” I prod him in the chest.

“I know, I know, just teasing.” He dips his head to capture my lips with his. For a split second I worry about morning breath, but he’s kissing me so deeply it really mustn’t be a problem, and soon all I can think of is how much I want him to fuck me.

“It worked too, you’re facing me now so I can do this.” He shoves me in the centre of my chest and I fall to my back with a squeal. Before I can yell at him for scaring me like that, he’s between my thighs, grabbing my hands and holding them down beside my head.

“Bastard,” I exclaim with a giggle.

“Cheeky minx.” He leans forward and blows a raspberry at the centre of my chest, making me squeal. He continues; kissing, blowing raspberries across to my armpit and back, until I am begging him to stop through the laughter. I’m very, very ticklish.

All the time he holds my hands down, I’m trapped and laughing my head off.

“Surrender?” he asks.

“Yes.” I gasp as he nips and nibbles at the upper curve of my boob. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Gonna be a good girl now?” He bites down, just above my nipple, his teeth digging into my flesh.

“God, yes.” I groan and press my groin up towards him. The pain is overwhelmingly pleasurable. I’m not even sure how that works.

Thunder stops biting and kisses instead. “That’s better. Now keep your hands where I’ve put them.”

He sits back on his heels and looks down at me. I’m sure I look a mess—bed head, red cheeks, sleep-sticky eyes, and probably those wrinkle lines you get from lying on sheets in the same position for a while, but all I can see in his gaze is lust.

He reaches between his own thighs and strokes his cock whilst looking at me. I am an object, something to be desired and wanted. It makes my heart leap and my body tighten with arousal to be that to him. To be his. Even if it’s just for this brief moment of time.

I push down the wave of sadness which comes with the realisation that this one night is all we can realistically have together. I can’t think about that yet.

“Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous. A work of art. Stay there, don’t move.”

He scrambles off the bed, picks up his jeans and fishes his phone and a condom out of the pocket.

“Okay.” He jumps back on his knees between my thighs. “Please can I take a photo of you?”

“Erm, well—” I really want to protest that my hair is a mess and I must look terrible, but instead I shrug. Clearly he doesn’t think that way. “Okay then, sure.”

“Thanks.” He presses at his phone screen a few times then aims it at me. I smile. I watch the concentration on his face as he moves the camera to capture the perfect angle. His hair flops forward over one of his eyes and I really want to push it out of his face, grab his cheeks and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more. But I don’t. I lie still, arms flat against the bedsheet because he told me to leave them there.

“Got it.” He flashes the screen my way. I nod—it looks pretty good from a distance.  He throws the phone down onto the bed beside us. “Now, play with your clit while I get this condom sorted.”

I have never masturbated in front of another person before, so I very hesitantly reach down my body and rest my hand over my pussy, my eyes clamped closed. I don’t want to see him watching me.  There is a freedom in his command somehow. I’m not doing it, in a way. He is. This gives me the bravery to press a finger in between my folds and seek out the moistness pooled there. I push my pointer finger inside me and gather up more of my nectar to rub over my clit, so my finger pad glides over it more easily.

I relax the more I touch myself—the bliss coursing through me makes me want to wank more, building up the need to come.

“Open your eyes, Josie.”

I flutter open my lashes and meet his heated gaze. Thunder’s pupils are large and the green of his eyes is darker than I’ve seen it before. I continue to brazenly finger myself as I stare deep into him, past the beautiful exterior into his human, vulnerable core.