A fated encounter. A familiar stranger. A storm of passion. Can Ondine release her fear, surrender to Marut’s power, and claim her own?
Marine biologist Ondine Ambrose has always felt at home in the sea. Orphaned at birth and raised by her grandmother on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, she has never really questioned her extraordinary affinity for the watery world.
When she encounters an attractive but arrogant engineer on her private beach, surveying the site for a prospective off-shore wind farm, anger is her first reaction. A casual touch, however, transforms that emotion to incomprehensible, irresistible, terrifying lust.
Ebony-skinned Marut has his own talents—aside from his uncanny ability to swamp Ondine with desire. He can control the winds and summon storms. When he insists that they are both more than human, and that she is his destined mate, Ondine responds with skepticism. She tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately she cannot deny the evidence of her senses—and her heart.
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Excerpt – R rated!
She’d always taken her abilities for granted, figuring that perhaps they were some compensation from the universe for having snatched her mother at birth. Nevertheless, she didn’t flaunt her differences. When she dived with the other scientists from her team, she donned the unnecessary wetsuit, tanks and regulator. No point in encouraging idle speculation.
“So? What the devil does that have to do with you? With us?” Her harsh tone was a deliberate attempt to hide her uncertainty.
“I’m like you. Human, but with extra-human gifts. And you are my destined mate, Ondine—no matter how hard you try to deny the fact.”
Marut rose from the table, imposing despite the shabby robe that hung from his powerful frame. The garment gaped open, revealing the smooth ebony swell of his chest. Belted at Marut’s narrow waist, the faded terry hid his groin, but Ondine didn’t have to see the man’s magnificent cock to know it was swollen with desire, the same desire that had soaked the crotch of her sweatpants.
His mate. Ridiculous! And yet there was something mysterious and inevitable in her attraction to this stranger. Determined to fight that inexplicable desire, she turned towards the back door.
“I’ll go fetch your clothes,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
The Wedgwood-blue morning sky and brilliant sun had disappeared to be replaced by masses of lead-gray cloud. The muggy air was thick as syrup, so heavy it was practically an effort to breathe. Marut’s jeans and shirt hung limply on the line, along with the laundry she’d hung before heading for the beach. With the humidity, Ondine feared they’d still be damp, but the earlier sun appeared to have done its work. Both articles were dry enough for her unwelcome visitor to wear. He could leave as soon as he dressed. Relief mingled with regret as she squeezed the clothes pin holding the T-shirt.
A sudden, brisk wind sprang up, tugging at her hair and whipping the stiff denim of the suspended jeans against her belly. Startled, she dropped the white cotton onto the sandy soil. The breeze caught the garment and whisked it away, a tumble of white, until it caught on one of the points of the picket fence. With a sigh, she padded barefoot across the yard to retrieve it.
She whirled to face him. She hadn’t heard the squeak of the old screen door hinges, yet there he was, tall and dark as a thunderhead—gloriously naked. His piercing eyes pinned her in place. His noble forehead arched up to the explosion of frizzy curls that framed his skull. His skin gleamed as though it had been oiled. He stood before her—no, loomed above her—his muscled legs parted, his arms crossed over his chest, sniffing for her all-too-obvious scent. His nostrils flared like a thoroughbred racehorse and his prominent lips curled into a confident smile.
And there, rising from its nest of inky fur, was the cock she’d caressed out on the beach, a proud cylinder of dark flesh with a slick, mauve cap. In their frenzied groping upon the rocks, she hadn’t really seen his organ clearly, but now…
She’d read that primitive cultures worshipped the phallus as the source of all power. Now she understood, in a most visceral sense, how this could be. She wanted to fall on her knees before this vision of male potency, to beg for a touch, for a taste. Use me, something in her cried, though in fact his beauty and vitality struck her dumb. Helpless, terrified, swamped by need, she waited for him to make the first move.
The strange wind blew around them. Marut’s eyes glittered like chips of hematite. He stared into her soul, asking questions she didn’t dare acknowledge. Unable to bear his scrutiny for more than a few moments, she dropped her gaze to his bare feet, graceful and strong as the rest of him, and waited for him to take her.
“Ondine.” Her name on his lips was moonlight on a tropical lagoon, a gentle surf kissing the shore.
About the Author
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter.
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Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.
Once again, I’m grateful for your promo help. I hope some of your readers are intrigued by Rough Weather.
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