COVER REVEAL! **Viktor** by Clarissa Wild

 

 

 

Title: VIKTOR

Author: Clarissa Wild

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Design: Booming Covers

 Release Date: April 27, 2016

Blurb

 

Animal. Monster. Beast. That’s what they call Viktor Melikov, the man who hides in the dark … But even monsters need to be loved. The moment he sees the girl hired to dance for him, everything ceases to exist. It’s a feeling he’s unfamiliar with … and craves more than anything.

Alexis Kidd sells her body. Not because she wants to, but because she needs to. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to support her family and survive.

Now she must dance for a man hiding behind a veil.
But when the urge to take a look grows too strong … Alexis gets more than she bargained for.
More than Viktor was willing to give.

Inspired by a fairytale, VIKTOR is a standalone Contemporary Romance by New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Clarissa Wild. 

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Excerpt

 

Unedited Excerpt – Subject to change – Copyright 2016 Clarissa Wild 

The figure behind the curtain moves his hand and the music starts to play. I close my eyes and take a breath, eliminating my thoughts, transporting myself to another world. In this moment I am no longer Alexis, no longer that girl with all her responsibilities and history. I am simply a woman. A dancer. A seductress.

 

As the lights dim, my arms start to move to the rhythm of the music. I undress myself slowly, sensually, putting emphasis on every inch of my skin as if it’s precious. I lick my lips and twirl around the chair, showing off my bare skin as my dress falls to the floor and all that’s left is a see-through thong and bra.

 

My body moves on its own as I dance, almost possessed. Music is the food that feeds my soul and takes the pain away. But when I open my eyes and see him standing there, I can’t help but look. Even through the curtain, which isn’t as thick as I thought it was, I can see his complete silhouette. A big mass of muscles. Bigger than any man I’ve ever laid eyes on. It takes my breath away quite literally.

 

And all of those muscles are bundled at one spot.

 

Right in front of his crotch.

 

I suck in a breath and sway my hips to the music, watching his hands move up and down, front and back. My nipples tighten from the sight as I watch him jerk himself off right in front of me. I shouldn’t be aroused, this isn’t about me, but my body knows what it likes, and it doesn’t care. I wonder if he knows that I can see him … if he even cares.

 

I blink and turn around the chair again, but at the second turn my eyes can’t help themselves anymore. I gorge myself on his body, watching him speed up, pumping himself. The harder he goes, the faster I move. It’s like we’re both grounded in the moment, joined by movement alone. The music booms through the speakers, but the silence between us is chilling.

 

Sexy, almost, in a wicked way.

 

Licking my lips, I take off my bra and jiggle my tits as I twirl around the chair and do my dance. He turns sideways slowly, exposing the size of his length, and oh boy … it just about makes my mouth water, that’s how huge he is.

 

I love watching him, even though I shouldn’t be. I remember the warning all too well, but what harm could it do when I can tell he’s enjoying it? And the funny thing is, is that I’m actually enjoying it too. It’s not often that I can please a man without touching him … and that he looks that delicious, even when hiding behind a curtain. God, I can only imagine what he might look like up front.

 

There’s no harm in fantasizing, right? Besides, it’s not like I’ll see him again … Plus, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get off, and I’ll sure as hell get myself off when I’m done with this job.

 

Anxious to see where this is going, I speed up the pace and grind on the chair like a class-act, which gets him all pumped up. I watch him intently from behind my lashes, making sure it’s not too obvious. Pants and soft groans are audible underneath the tone of the music, creating goosebumps across my body.

 

He sounds like a goddamn beast.

 

As the music comes to an end, and I do my final move, he releases himself, and the silence returns.

 

I wait, heavily breathing, sweat dripping down my body, my pussy pounding between my legs. Nothing happens.

 

But it should.

 

He never said I could stop.

 

 

 

Author Bio

 

 

Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, Stalker, Twenty-One (21), and Ultimate Sin. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire’s Bet series, and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

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Guarded hearts.
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Layne

The silky smooth feel of his tongue gliding across mine sends shivers down my spine. His intrinsic taste is every bit as intoxicating as that bottle of strawberry wine, except he’s much more addictive. When his calloused fingers glide across my cheek, a need greater than I’ve ever known consumes me and makes me want to beg for him to touch me everywhere.

I am safe and secure under the weight of his body, and his lips and tongue move with expert precision and determination. Even when I try to rush him and greedily take more, he won’t allow it. He keeps complete control, drawing out the pleasure, leaving me wanting—no, needing—more. My next breath is dependent upon his kiss, his touch, his taste. What I was intent would never happen again is happening right before me, but I can’t willfully stop this any more than I can willfully stop my heart from beating.

He shifts his weight and settles his hips between my legs. The sudden friction against my clit causes an intense moan to escape from my throat. His responding growl only amplifies the fire that is about to combust between us. His hips flex and his erection slides across me. My fingers curl into his shirt, my nails scrape across his skin, and my neck arches in response. Ace’s lips move down to my exposed neck as he kisses, licks, and nips at the erogenous area.

“You taste good everywhere,” he murmurs. “Your lips, your tongue, your neck. I can’t help but wonder what you taste like in other places.”

His hands find their way under my shirt, and he slowly pushes it up as he slides down. His fingers are sprawled out across my abdomen, heating my core from his mere touch. When the stubble from his faded beard scrapes across my stomach, my hands instinctively jerk to his head and my fingers glide through his light brown hair. He pulls my skin through his teeth, sucking it into his mouth, and then laving the area with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, the more I taste you, the better it gets,” he hums against my skin.

He lifts his eyes to look at me. Looking for permission? He has it, whatever he wants to do to me. Town gossip be damned. I don’t care what they think of me, how easy they think I am, or how jealous they are that he’s here with me. Not one of them has walked in my shoes, has felt what I’ve felt, or has been hurt in the way that I’ve been hurt—because none of them is me.

“Ace,” I beg with one word. A one-syllable, one-word plea.

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