Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Beyond the Cut by Sarah Castille Excerpt #2

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Meet Cade & Dawn in Beyond the Cut!
The newest addition to the Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club Series is NOW LIVE!
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1LAC0cz

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Excerpt #2
“Dawn, babe. You are so beautiful you could make a priest sin.”
“Good thing then I already have a Sinner.”
When his palm cupped the smooth perfection of her breast, and his thumb brushed gently over her taut, rosy nipple, he couldn’t hold back. With a groan, he eased her back on the desk, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
“What my old lady wants, my old lady gets.” He smoothed his hands along her inner thighs, his fingers brushing over the lace tops of her stockings and along the garter elastics, until he reached her lace panties. She liked lace. He remembered tearing lace panties off her before, the soft rend of material as erotic a sound as her whimper when he stroked her wet pussy.
“More, Cade. Don’t tease.”
His body shook like it was his first time, like he had at the age of fourteen when he discovered he could lose himself in a woman’s embrace and the shouting and crying and screaming he heard at home would fade away beneath moans and whimpers of desire. He couldn’t stop the pain, but at least he could give pleasure.
He cupped her breast in his hand, tugging down her bra to take her nipple in his mouth.
“Oh God.” Dawn arched off the desk, offering him more. Her hands slid over his chest, sending wave after wave of heat down to his cock. Unable to stop himself, he ground his erection against the curve of her sex until he was on the verge of spilling himself like a teenage boy.
Her hips rocked against him, her heels digging into his back. With her head thrown back, her hair spread around her in a golden wave, she was a goddess, devastatingly beautiful, irresistibly wanton . . . and his.
Mine. Overwhelmed with a need to claim her, he grasped the edge of her panties and eased them over her hips, sliding them over her lean legs and off. Too pretty to tear away.
He heard her gasp, and if he hadn’t been so wound up, he would have savored her, licked the salty sweetness from her skin, and teased her nipples until she writhed beneath him. But that was for another time. Another place. A night when they weren’t the guests of honor at their own party and everyone would be wondering where they were. Now was about sex. Rough and raw. Pure and primal. Now was about making her truly his.
“Are you wet for me, babe?” His hand dropped to his belt and he worked at the buckle.
“So wet.”
“Are you hot?” The buckle gave way and he tore open his fly.
“So hot.”
“Legs on my shoulders.” He pulled a condom from his pocket and ripped it open with his teeth, then sheathed himself as she positioned herself, calves on his shoulders, her glistening pussy wet and inviting.
“Now,” she demanded.
He entered her with one hard thrust, his hands around her thighs, holding her in place. Dawn arched against him, rocked into his rhythm, her hands clenched tight on the lip of the desk.
“God, you feel so good.”
The desk squeaked across the floor as he hammered into her. When he felt the little quivers in her sex that told him she was close, he traced his thumb over her clit, spreading her moisture up and around until her legs tightened around him and her heels dug into his freshly dressed wound. Pleasure-pain suffused his body and he felt a familiar pressure at the base of his spine.
The doorknob rattled and Cade froze. “Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Not again. Someone’s gonna die.”
“Hey you two,” Tank yelled. “Come outta there and join the party, or else we’re coming in.”
Cade heard laughter and the sound of voices. His cock throbbed so painfully his eyes watered. “Fuck off.”
“Maybe we should . . .”
He thrust deep and Dawn’s back arched. “Oh God. So close. Make them go away.”
“Pleasure.” Cade reached across the desk for his gun. Sex with his old lady was serious business. Not to be disturbed. Especially when he was so damn close he had to grit his teeth against the pain.
“No. I didn’t mean—”
He fired at the door, aiming his shots at the ceiling. A woman screamed. The brothers gathered outside the door roared with laughter.
“Catch you at a bad time, brother?” Sparky shouted. “We need to know if you’re fighting at the next fight.”
“This is worse than a civilian wedding,” Dawn muttered. “Although we’re supposed to be in a fancy hotel room when we’re hazed.”
Cade placed the gun on the table beside her. “My woman doesn’t get interrupted when she’s about to come.”
“That’s sweet, in a terrifying-ruthless-biker-I’ll-be-totally-humiliated-when-we-walk-out of-here kinda way.”
“Fucking me is not humiliating. Most of the girls out there would die to take your place.”
Dawn glanced from side to side, taking in the dingy room, and then laughed. “First of all, I am reassured that you do not suffer from a lack of self-confidence. Second, how about you get on with the program. Since they all now know what we’re up to, we might as well enjoy it so I can lord it over all those girls who are dying to take my place. And third, if you do any more shooting, someone probably will die.”






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The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club Series
Reading Order

Rough Justice (Book One)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1PJiwJi

Beyond the Cut (Book Two)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1LAC0cz
About the Author:
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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Sarah Castille worked and travelled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. She writes contemporary erotic romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them. Her books include the bestselling “Redemption” fighter romance series, and the dark, gritty Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club romance series.


Stalk Sarah Here: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads |

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