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Sunday, September 28, 2014

Wow! What a dark and fantastic book! BAD THINGS gets 4.5 stars from LOVE BYTES REVIEWS

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4.5 STARS Wow! What a dark and fantastic book! 

Read the full review of BAD THINGS

 I loved the contrast between the two characters…

There is lots of sex in this book…. Some of it is nice and sweet, some of it is dark and nasty. But even the dark and nasty was appealing in it’s own way. But be warned, a bit of what Xavier does to Carson is not exactly consensual. It’s that fine line.

The plot is interesting, the whole human trafficking story line is relevant and scary. The development of the relationship between Xavier and Carson is great. It’s a very intense relationship they have, Big shit happens, it was just an amazing story. I haven’t read anything by Varian Krylov before, but I certainly will now. Dangerously Happy is on the top of my TBR list!


Bad Things at Amazon
Bad Things at Smashwords

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Exceptionally Intense: 5 STARS for Bad Things


5.0 out of 5 stars Intense!September 22, 2014
This review is from: Bad Things (Kindle Edition)
Erotica & BDSM Lovers
My Rating: 5 of 5 Stars

Exceptionally Intense.

These are the words that come closest to what I have just read.

The intensity is not so much the writing but the events that unfolded in this latest book from Varian Krylov. This author, I have no words to describe her writing style but do recognize that her use of the written words is such that it does not leave much to the imagination. The worse thing about this story is that the main man is an anti-hero who I cannot help but be scared of, be in awe of, and just fall in love with. This is a man I could not stand in Dangerously Happy for he was a scary enigma I would not want to meet in a dark place alone or with a gang of friends. And yet I absolutely love him.

This is a story that unfolds slowly but with such surety it was hard to put down. But I did put it down. I had to take time off and take stock of what was going on, opened a few lightly written romances to buffer me from the incredible scenes that kept developing. This is a plot that is all too real and the characters are written in such a manner that it is hard to realize they are fictional.

Why bad things?

First, it is Xavier and everyone who had met him the first time know that he is bad. And he does a lot of bad things.

Second, the whole situation of his sister and his quest to give her justice. That was just plain bad what happened and Xavier holds nothing back to get that revenge realized.

Third, Carson. Wow! I cannot reveal much but just know that his is a journey into a life that was totally unexpected and with Xavier right there with him? Whoa!

Fourth, the whole idea of human trafficking. This is an all too real subject that is scary to think about but needs to be addressed. This is a really, really bad thing.

Fifth, Xavier. It all ends and begins with this man. And his developing relationship with Carson. Their life as it unfolds in this read is such that was not only painful to read but to think about. Thing is, I recognize that this is what they both needed even if I don't like it. And that is simply what makes this work so incredible.

All the bad things happen here and yet it is impossible not to keep reading. Not to keep being scared. Not to keep going to find out the end and speculate.

Varian, you are one extraordinary writer and you scared me s****less. Yes, you really did.

But I just loved reading this, so Thank You!

**gottagorestnow**




Bad Things at Amazon
Bad Things at Smashwords


Sunday, September 21, 2014

5.0 out of 5 stars - A Story Packed Full of Suspense and Carnal Passion


5.0 out of 5 stars Loved it!September 21, 2014 By KLovesbooks
This review is from: Bad Things (Kindle Edition)

I was a little nervous about Xavi's story after meeting him in Dangerously Happy. I knew he was a tortured sadistic man but I also knew he cared deeply for the people in his life. Bad Things is about vengeance for his sister and somehow in the middle of Xavier's chaotic mess he finds the one person who can take Xavi's pain, Carson.

The beginning was brutal. My heart weeped for both Xavier and Carson. Carson stole my heart. His soft gentle nature was such as contrast to Xavier's cold exterior. But honesty, Xavier never gives Carson more than he needs. I promise once you discover Xavier's soul you will love him. He doesn't give pain as much as he absorbs everyone else's pain. The second part of the story is about healing of each characters inner demons. This story is packed full of suspense and carnal passion.
I loved the chapter with Aiden and Dario. Their roll in Carson's healing was beautiful.

I promise you will fall in love with Xavier. One glimpse into his cracked amour and you'll be hooked.





Bad Things at Amazon
Bad Things at Smashwords



Saturday, September 20, 2014

If you don't read any other mm novel this year - read this one!


5.0 out of 5 stars Senusous and Mysterious - must read!September 15, 2014
By 
sljasble (Tampa, FL) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Bad Things (Kindle Edition)
I had the pleasure of Beta reading this wonderful book! This is a follow up to Krylov's Dangerously Happy (DH), which I also loved. I'm in love with this author and her passionate characters! I loved DH so much that when I had the opportunity to Beta read this book I jumped on it - and I was not disappointed at all.

Xavier made his debut in DH, but the reader just barely got to know him. I was fascinated with what little we saw, so a whole novel devoted to him - yeah! In Bad Things, we really-really get to know Xavier and you can't help but to love this tough guy.

My big surprise though was Carson. HIs sensitive soul just sucks you in and he really owns this book. I fell hard for him!

Ultimately, Krylov's writing is sensuous and artistic - like Candy for my ears/brain and sex drive! It is hot, steamy, passionate, well written. You'll love the plot, the mystery, the vengeance, and the forgiveness.

If you don't read any other mm novel this year - read this one! I can't wait for it to come out in paperback! It's one I'm adding to my collection!


Bad Things at Amazon
 Bad Things at Smashwords

Monday, September 15, 2014

M/M/M Threesome: Dario and Aidan are back!




BAD THINGS is LIVE


NEW RELEASE! Bad Things by Varian Krylov, author of Dangerously Happy


Xavier makes a lot of people nervous. The rest, he flat-out scares. More than his hulking, tattooed body, it's his predator's gaze that makes people feel vulnerable, as if he had the power to read their thoughts and see their soul. For his lovers, it's Xavier's ravenous appetite for all things carnal—for the taste of flesh under his tongue and the feel of a trembling body under his control, for whispered pleas and muffled cries—that makes him dangerous. 

But recently, driven by a festering rage against the men who attacked his sister a decade ago, Xavier has developed a taste for a different kind of hunt and conquest: stalking men who do truly bad things and punishing the predators he sniffs out. The problem with vigilante justice, though, is sometimes the man in your trap is innocent. 

Carson suspects he's playing a risky game with dangerous men. But the lies are convincing, especially when they're slipped to him among hundred dollar bills. He never guessed how big and dark the secret hidden under all the lies and money could be. And he has no idea he's not the predator, but the prey, until it's too late. 

And you can't beg for mercy when there's a gag in your mouth. 

But when Carson escapes from Xavier's trap, he's forced to accept that Xavier is far from his most dangerous enemy. Xavier may even hold the key to overcoming the painful past that has kept Carson prisoner for almost two decades.



If you loved Dangerously Happy, and need more of Xavier (and a little visit from Dario and Aidan, too), you want Bad Things.


Saturday, September 13, 2014

Contest ends tomorrow! Win a FREE EBOOK! Bad Things or Dangerously Happy


Win a FREE ebook: http://tinyurl.com/ksdouq5
Contest ends tomorrow!




Xavier makes a lot of people nervous. The rest, he flat-out scares. More than his hulking, tattooed body, it's his predator's gaze that makes people feel vulnerable, as if he had the power to read their thoughts and see their soul. For his lovers, it's Xavier's ravenous appetite for all things carnal—for the taste of flesh under his tongue and the feel of a trembling body under his control, for whispered pleas and muffled cries—that makes him dangerous.

But recently, driven by a festering rage against the men who attacked his sister a decade ago, Xavier has developed a taste for a different kind of hunt and conquest: stalking men who do truly bad things and punishing the predators he sniffs out. The problem with vigilante justice, though, is sometimes the man in your trap is innocent.

Carson suspects he's playing a risky game with dangerous men. But the lies are convincing, especially when they're slipped to him among hundred dollar bills. He never guessed how big and dark the secret hidden under all the lies and money could be. And he has no idea he's not the predator, but the prey, until it's too late.

And you can't beg for mercy when there's a gag in your mouth.

But when Carson escapes from Xavier's trap, he's forced to accept that Xavier is far from his most dangerous enemy. Xavier may even hold the key to overcoming the painful past that has kept Carson prisoner for almost two decades.




Thursday, September 11, 2014

5 STARS! Teodora Kostova reviews Bad Things



"Bad Things is an intense book on every level imaginable. It was very hard to read at times, the brutality of the situations painted so vividly by Varian’s exquisite writing, that I had to stop and take a breather... the intensity of Xavier and Carson’s relationship is indescribable. It’s not your usual romance, not at all. It’s brutal and passionate, sometimes violent, but always honest. I do not recommend this book for anyone who can’t handle anything darker than a fluffy, easy, sexy romance. The relationship between the MCs is quite unconventional... I recommend [Bad Things] wholeheartedly to anyone. It’s an emotional, intense story of two people trying to find themselves through each other. Two people not afraid to hurt and get hurt if the emptiness inside them will be filled again in the end. Oh, and there’s a pretty hot cameo by Aidan and Dario. Did I mention the sex in the book is off-the-charts hot?"


Bad Things
at Amazon
at Smashwords

Hot excerpts:
Bathing the hostage
Whipping Boy


Tuesday, September 9, 2014

WHIPPING BOY: Bad Things EXPLICIT excerpt

When Xavier let himself into Carson’s room—not bothering to knock, of course—Carson was sitting at the table by the window, doing something on his computer, which he immediately closed.
Puta Madre Maria, it did something to him, the way Carson got to his feet and stood there, silently looking at him, just waiting to submit to whatever he said, whatever he did. The bulge of his stiffening dick already deliciously obvious.

“Get undressed.”

Fuck, that trembling, aroused obedience. Xavier had never known anything like it.

No need to bark orders. All Carson needed was to know what he wanted. So he spoke softly. “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”

Jesus Christ, the sight of him, so anxious, so willing. So fucking hard.

This time, Xavier'd had time to prepare. An experiment. A little push, to see what else would open up, what other facet of Carson’s soul could be brought out of shadow.

Each wrist drawn in, under Carson's body, and tethered to his ankle. Startling, how animal, how dehumanized a man could look, just by forcing his body into a slightly unnatural contortion. Knees splayed wide. Ass unavoidably lifted to display all the delicacies of his undercarriage, especially when Xavier slowly pressed down on the small of his back, getting that perfect curve and making Carson’s cheeks spread that taunting, extra little bit.

He didn't blindfold or gag him. With his weight tipped forward like that, his face was pretty much buried in the pillow. Half smothered, half gagged. Unable to see Xavier.

“Were you impatient, waiting for me tonight?” he asked quietly, forcing Carson to strain to hear him as he ran just the tip of his finger lightly down the shallow furrow, over his defenseless hole, thrilling at the tremor running through Carson’s body. “Wondering when I’d come? If I’d come?”

He set the things he’d need on the bedspread, near Carson’s foot. Climbing onto the mattress behind him—hell, it took his fucking breath, the way Carson went stone still in nervous anticipation—he laid his hands on those two gorgeous round cheeks. Even though his asshole was right there in plain sight, he spread him open a little wider, relishing the gasp and shudder he knew Carson would give him.

Xavier plucked up the riding crop he'd bought that afternoon, at the sex shop inevitably located in every urban downtown. For a moment, he felt the whip teeter on his palm, getting a sense of its weight and balance, then grasped the handle and whiffed the length back and forth through the air. A flimsy toy compared to the one he had at home, but it would do.

Xavier ran his hand over Carson’s hard dick, his hanging balls, his exposed hole, drinking down the nectar of Carson's stiff, trembling suspense, wondering if he'd guessed the significance of the sound the crop had made as it had sliced through the air, or whether it was pure suspense making Carson's body quiver like that. Then he brought the leather tip of the crop down on the luscious left cheek of Carson’s pale rump, good and fucking hard. So hard, Carson didn’t just gasp. He squealed, hitting a weird high note as he sucked in his breath. And after, there he was, trussed up, ribs going in and out like a bellows. Xavier waited, watched the flame of red spread over his smooth skin, watched the in-out of Carson’s breaths alter from startled alarm, to the halt and gasp of anxious anticipation. And Carson's sweet cock, engorged to the fucking limit.

His own wasn’t exactly limp.

A little more cruelly, he struck the other cheek. A few seconds later, a blotchy red mark emerged. But even better, Carson’s neck and ears were scarlet. His face, too, probably, but it was hidden in the pillow. Pain. Humiliation. All those capillaries dilating, competing with his cock for blood.

Xavier sank his fingers into Carson's hair, pushed his face down into the pillow, and hit him again. Again. Got him crying and squirming more and more desperately, cock beautifully obscene, ruddy, veins swollen, and, puta pene maravillosa, cockhead seeping.

When the twelfth strike hit its mark, Xavier tossed the crop aside and pounced on Carson with all the cruel hunger of those twelve weeks of doubt, and the vicious want ripping through him with every stinging whack of the crop against Carson’s rump, red and throwing off heat like a frying pan. He grasped both cheeks, spread him wide, and settled his mouth over Carson's hole, sliding the flat of his tongue over his pucker in one long, slow stroke, Carson’s startled cry making him fucking crazy.

“This is how I like you, Carson. Ass in the air and spread wide like you’re begging me to get in there and eat it. To stuff your hole with my hard dick.”

He reached under, got hold of Carson’s cock, and drew it back, between his legs, until he had his hole, his balls, and his leaking dick all in a nice, neat all-you-can-eat buffet line. When he licked, sliding his tongue over that engorged, seeping crown, pressing down between his balls, over his taint, over his hole, and up along the fuzzy furrow of his ass, Carson writhed and moaned so beautifully, Xavier could hardly fucking bear it. He went on eating, teasing and probing his hole, sucking his balls, nursing at his plump cock head until Carson whimpered his need to come. Then—fucking beauty—Carson groaned into the pillow, convulsing, coming. Already. Crying and bucking, knuckles white, lashed down by his feet. Xavier licked, sucked, drank, swallowed. Delicious. He could have gone on eating him forever.

Instead, not even waiting for Carson’s warbling sighs or tremors to stop, he rose up, got a condom on, greased up his hole—his cock rearing and twitching at the feel of Carson’s sphincter grasping at his finger, at the grunting noise he made as Xavier slowly penetrated him—and got in there. Fucking God, Carson was tight. A tormenting strain, every time, working his dick into the cruel grip of him. And so fucking worth it.


Was it too much? Riding him now, in that precarious post-orgasmic moment when everything—body, brain and soul—is at its most sensitive? Xavier bent over him, slid his arm around his neck, bracing against his chest so he wouldn’t really choke him, just give him that thrill of danger, of being taken. Now he could see him in profile, mouth wide, animal grunts shaking out of him every time Xavier plowed into him, brows knit. Body quivering in his arms. Total surrender as Xavier fucked, as he came, growling and clawing, sinking his teeth into the firm flesh just inside Carson’s shoulder.


http://www.amazon.com/Bad-Things-Varian-Krylov-ebook/dp/B00MW6UA9G/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1408954203&sr=1-1&keywords=bad+things+krylov

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Bathing the hostage: EXPLICIT EXCERPT from Bad Things

Heading toward Venice, breathing, counting, Xavier put Kayleigh and Olga and that fucking video out of his mind, and focused his thoughts on Carson. Xavier had never encountered anyone whose arousal was so tied to fear. There was Dario, but that was something else. And there’d been others—hell, countless others—who wanted or needed or thrived on being dominated, controlled, made helpless, threatened, even hurt. But with the others—Dario being the lone, eternal exception—on some level either just at the surface or somewhere down toward the depths, it was theater.
Not for Carson. It wasn’t just that he really was his prisoner. It was something inside of him. Something intimately intertwined with those worshipful images of the model's cock on Carson's camera. With the tragic sorrow quivering along the lie threaded between that silent prayer in light and shadow, and Carson's brittle mantra, “I'm not gay, I'm not gay.”
When he got back from the Kayleigh's, Xavier uncuffed Carson and gave him his three minutes in the bathroom. When he emerged, Carson startled when Xavier intercepted him before he’d returned to his post, then started panting and resisting as Xavier drove him back into the bathroom.
Maneuvering him into the shower, Xavier forced one arm overhead and latched the restraint into the bolt in the wall, then did his other wrist.
Fuck, from the look on Carson’s face it was like he thought Xavier was about to whip a chainsaw out from under the sink and re-enact a scene from Scarface.
Caressing his cheek, noting how he flinched at that gentle touch, how pale he’d gone, how he was trembling, Xavier said, “This scruffy beard you’re growing is cute. But I like you better clean-cut. Soft and smooth.”
He took off the gag and tossed it into the sink, and in lieu of the chainsaw, he got his electric shaver from the cupboard, and stepped back into the shower with Carson.
“It’s not a straight razor. Don’t look so worried.”
Even after everything, it felt so fucking intimate, touching and guiding his jaw, coaxing him to raise his chin, to elongate his neck, making his skin taut, easy to shave. Touching his chin with just the pad of his thumb to coax a turn to the left, then to the right, the sharp bright fear in his blue eyes softening to a hazed glow.
But when Xavier put the guard attachment on the clippers and sat down on the edge of the tub, Carson’s fear sharpened again. Christ, it was beautiful, the way his abdomen—elongated and taut because his arms were stretched overhead—fluttered with his alarmed respiration.
“Don’t worry, I won’t shave you bare. We’ll just keep things from getting unruly.”
Carson’s body awkward and rigid the whole time, Xavier carefully groomed him, gently lifting and shifting his balls and his dick as he worked around them, relishing the soft, sweet delight of feeling Carson’s cock swelling slightly in his hand.
Stepping out of the shower, Xavier put the clippers away, then turned back to Carson, dangling in suspense. Locked eyes with him. Stripped out of his T-shirt.
Fuck. That furrow between Carson’s eyebrows—how could such a little thing hit Xavier so fucking hard? And the way his head sank down—a slow, small movement, barely perceptible. Still so shy. Still ashamed. And, of course, still afraid.
When Xavier stripped out of his pants and underwear, Carson turned away. He didn’t just turn his head aside. His whole body twisted until he’d put his back to Xavier.
Stepping into the tub, Xavier picked up the shower head on the end of its metal snake-like coil, and turned on the water. Waited for it to warm. Moved the spray over Carson’s smooth, broad shoulders, watched the rivulets stream down his back, over the jutting curves of his pale ass, down his long, finely muscled thighs.
Raking his fingers into Carson’s curls, possessive but not rough, he pulled his head back. Wet his hair, watching it darken and straighten and cling to his scalp. Carson stayed dead still as Xavier filled the hollow of his palm with shampoo, but shuddered when he felt that touch, Xavier's fingertips sinking into wet locks.
Foam rising and flowing outward from his fingers, streaking Carson’s dark strands. Even with Carson staying still, staying silent, Xavier knew how firmly to press his scalp with the pads of his fingers. Felt his fearful rigidity slowly softening. Worked his scalp. Massaged his temples in gradually widening circles. Worked just under the base of his skull, wearing down the knot of stressed muscle fed on hours and hours of fear and being restrained, one arm pinned back.
Xavier rinsed the lather from Carson’s hair. Got the soap. Massaged his neck, his shoulders. Sculpted. Smooth under his hands. Utterly delicious to his touch. His back, too, so beautiful to look at, even more so to feel, contrast of wide shoulders and narrow waist, contours of smooth muscle, of silky skin.
Reaching up. Finely muscled arms. Hands. For some reason, when he slid his soap-slippery fingers between Carson’s, there was a quiet whimper. Almost inaudible. Almost like he was still gagged.
The hairy hollows of his pits. Sinewy torso. Down his sides: corrugations of ribs, that ridge of muscled flesh where torso meets pelvis, down to smooth, sleek hips.
Fuck, his breath speeding, cock aching, Xavier slid his soapy hands over Carson’s flat, taut belly. Up. Muscled swell of his pecs.
When Xavier leaned in, let his chest and belly curve to press against his back, let his cock nestle between Carson’s cheeks as he caressed him, breathing in the scent of the soap, feeling Carson’s wet hair against his cheek, Carson’s trembling body began shuddering against his. A day ago, Carson’s weeping would have pumped Xavier full of poisonous glee, but at this moment it was cooling all his warm pleasure.
“Carson. I’m not about to fuck you. I’m just enjoying bathing you.”
If anything, Carson’s shuddering just got worse.
Fair enough. Given the situation, it was probably hard to buy that line with Xavier’s erection nestled in his cleft. Xavier took a step back. Turned Carson to face him. He was seeking his eyes, so he wouldn’t have noticed right away, except Carson’s hard dick slid against Xavier's thigh as he pivoted him away from the wall. Whatever confusion was making Carson cry, there was nothing indecisive about his hard-on.
When Xavier said, “Look at me,” Carson obeyed.
It wasn’t fear—at least not fear that Xavier was about to rape him—that Xavier found in Carson’s upturned eyes, surprisingly unshy, unevasive, but red and welling up. A different kind of fear. An inward-turned fear. The unexpected rush of tenderness that hit Xavier’s chest made it hard to breathe.
He didn’t think Carson would let him. Not like that. Not with his own trembling seeking. But at the first brush of lips Carson gave himself to the kiss. Not just a yielding submission.
Fuck, joder, there’d never been a kiss like it. As cock and chest-twisting as a hard fuck, but with something sweet and bitter pouring into his belly at the same time.
Just for a second Xavier thought of letting him out of the restraints. Maybe it was the way that inward-turned fear in Carson’s eyes flared up when Xavier glanced up at his wrists, but he left him like that. Arms bound overhead, body stretched taut, defenseless.
Just shallow kisses now, watching murky pleasure and hazy fear ebb and churn in Carson’s eyes as Xavier touched him. A shadow appeared in that furrow between his eyebrows as he touched his nipples, both at once, feathering and teasing, first. Then tormenting him, twisting and tugging, drinking his groans, devouring his lips, feasting on his tongue.
Carson was so fucking keyed up, Xavier was afraid to touch his cock, pretty sure he’d lose it at the first stroke. But fuck, so much fucking want. More brutal than any before.
A fistful of hair. Kissing. Wrapping his fist around his own aching dick he gave it a squeeze, rubbed the joint behind the crown with the pad of his thumb. He wasn’t much better than Carson. Wouldn’t last a minute.
Carson. Looking. Anticipating. When Xavier brushed their cock heads together Carson let out a cry that drove a hot thrill right to Xavier’s balls.
Kissing. Tongue and lips. Throat. Nipple. Ear. Neck. Carson writhing and sighing, Xavier came, the spasm grasping his balls and cock in a brutal jolt, launching a thick rope of spunk onto Carson’s stiff prick. Loving that, he kept lacing strand after strand over his head and shaft as spasm after spasm wrung him out.
Sinking down, he perched on the edge of the tub, grasped Carson’s hips in both hands, pulled him forward, and swiped his tongue up the length of his shaft, pink, lightly veined, hard as fucking iron, and over his succulent head, looking up into those startled blue eyes watching it all, and swallowed. Licked and licked until he’d mopped up every drop of his own spunk, drank it down, slid his tongue over his own lips, devouring Carson’s look of stunned, overwhelmed arousal, then wrapped his lips around his cock.
Fuck, the way Carson groaned and shuddered as Xavier pulled his cock into his mouth, the way he was trembling in Xavier’s hands was every bit as fucking delicious as the hard meat in his mouth. Letting go of his hips, Xavier pried Carson’s thighs apart, slid his arms between and grabbed two handfuls of muscled rump as he went on eating. Tangy pre-cum seeping from that succulent head, fat and firm against his tongue. And God, that satiating yet appetite-whetting sensation, his whole cock filling his mouth, head prodding his throat. When he swallowed, Carson groaned and bucked and came, semen pouring down Xavier’s throat, jet after viscous jet.
Xavier nursed and licked his way back, releasing Carson slowly, inch by inch, then stood, drank in his dazed look, and took him in a hard, deep kiss, startled by his own hunger, when he’d come just a couple minutes earlier.
And Carson. Jesus Cristo. If anything, he looked more scared than ever, now. Sadder than ever. But, fuck, he kept kissing. Kissing like he was trying to eat Xavier’s goddamned soul.
Xavier ended it. Because he had to. Because you don’t gamble the fate of a bunch of stolen kids on a kiss. Not even that kiss.
But he ended it gently. With a press of lips at the corner of Carson’s mouth. With another tender brush of lips and a soft kiss by his ear.
He got a towel and gently dried Carson’s face.
Carson’s voice was soft and full of hurt surprise. His eyes were even worse. “Take off the cuffs.”
Xavier gave him a carefully measured look. Not angry or threatening, but unyielding. A bit reproachful.
When he started drying Carson’s body, Carson said, “You’re really going to keep me chained up?” Wounded. Angry.
“Yes. But if you don’t say another word, I’ll leave the gag off.”

When he’d finished drying Carson, letting the perverse thrill of gently lifting and shifting his cock and his balls so he could blot them dry prick him through the heavy blanket of regret wrapping itself around him, he perfunctorily dried himself with the same, now damp towel. Then he unlatched Carson’s restraints from the overhead bolt and led him back to his post.




Wednesday, August 27, 2014

BAD THINGS now available for pre-order!


Xavier makes a lot of people nervous. The rest, he flat-out scares. More than his hulking, tattooed body, it's his predator's gaze that makes people feel vulnerable, as if he had the power to read their thoughts and see their soul. For his lovers, it's Xavier's ravenous appetite for all things carnal—for the taste of flesh under his tongue and the feel of a trembling body under his control, for whispered pleas and muffled cries—that makes him dangerous.

But recently, driven by a festering rage against the men who attacked his sister a decade ago, Xavier has developed a taste for a different kind of hunt and conquest: stalking men who do truly bad things and punishing the predators he sniffs out. The problem with vigilante justice, though, is sometimes the man in your trap is innocent.

Carson suspects he's playing a risky game with dangerous men. But the lies are convincing, especially when they're slipped to him among hundred dollar bills. He never guessed how big and dark the secret hidden under all the lies and money could be. And he has no idea he's not the predator, but the prey, until it's too late.

And you can't beg for mercy when there's a gag in your mouth.


But when Carson escapes from Xavier's trap, he's forced to accept that Xavier is far from his most dangerous enemy. Xavier may even hold the key to overcoming the painful past that has kept Carson prisoner for almost two decades.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

You want to. BAD THINGS explicit excerpt

Xavier gave Carson a grin. This part was always delicious, though usually he savored it with a much more willing opponent.
I’m going to ask things of you. And you’re not always going to want to do them.” He chuckled. “Well, in your case, I guess the truth is, you’re desperately going to want to not do them. But you should know before we start, that I’ll never ask anything from you, unless I have a much less bearable alternative in mind. Meaning, you should always do what I ask, the first time I ask. Because I promise you, if I do the alternative, you’ll be really sorry.”
Pobrecito. Tears already welling up.
Are you thirsty?”
Carson looked at the bottle of water, and nodded.
You may remove your gag. But no speaking, or I won’t be so nice again any time soon.”
Xavier watched Carson fumble around the gag with his one free hand until he got it loose and pulled the ball from between his teeth. He worked his jaw open and closed and from side to side for a moment, then took the bottle when Xavier handed it to him. He emptied the whole bottle in one go, and as soon as he was done he put his hand over his genitals.
Warm pleasure spread through Xavier’s chest at that sight, because it was going to be so much fun, making him move that hand.
I’ll let you leave the gag out. But only until you speak. Understood?”
Carson opened his mouth, then closed it, and nodded.
Good. And take your hand off your cock, unless you want me to cuff that arm again.
Carson’s jaw flexed against an impulse to protest. To try to shame, to beg. But instead he moved his hand. Just enough, resting it on his thigh, just an inch clear of his dick, lying soft and oblivious in the crease between his thighs.
Now, knees up and open. Spread for me.”
It was a limp kind of shock spreading over his face, because knowing this was coming had been curtained off by a need to believe it couldn’t happen. Carson didn’t move.
Yeah, I know. You have to test it. Even though you’re sitting there, handcuffed to the post and helpless as fuck, you need me to show you that you want to obey me.”
Xavier bent down, grabbed Carson by the ankles, lifting and forcing his feet wide apart, then stepped forward with his right foot, planting his heel just in front of Carson’s bare ass and resting the sole of his boot on his balls. Suddenly white as death, Carson was grasping at Xavier’s ankle, but was helpless to push or pull his foot away.
Don’t look like that. Like you’re about to be castrated or something. I’m not going to crush them, for fuck’s sake. But I might give them a little tap, just enough to double you over. Maybe enough to make you puke. Should I do that? Just so we don’t have to have this conversation a second time?”
No.”
Xavier laughed. “Did you just speak?”
Carson opened his mouth, then shut it.
Was that an apology?”
He nodded.
Are you feeling more cooperative now?”
Another fervent nod.
Xavier took his boot off Carson’s balls, let go of his ankles, and stepped back.
Then let’s try this again. Knees up and open. Spread for me.”
Face flushed, eyes glimmering, terror going supernova at the center of his big baby blues, he did it.
Just the act, that obedience, that little movement did it. Heat radiated from Xavier’s balls, down the length of his cock, out through his core, into his limbs. Up his throat, warming his face. Sudden urge to pounce, to devour, like a lion driven to the kill by the scent of prey. Carson’s pretty cock so soft, so tender and vulnerable, draped over those robust balls, neatly groomed but not stripped bare.
Aware of Carson watching him, he let his lips part for a panting breath of arousal. “Every time I walk into this room, I want you to display yourself like that. Show me that your pretty pink cock, your balls, your asshole belong to me. You want to do that. Do you know why?”
Xavier watched a thick, blank doubt haze the flare of fear in Carson’s eyes before he finally shook his head.

You want to do that, Carson, because I’m not like your friend in the gray suit in that video. Unlike him, I take very good care of things that belong to me.”