Page 62 of Corrupted

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Take control. Feel the rush. Explore your fantasies.

Step into stories of provocative romance where sexual fantasies come true. Let your inhibitions run wild.


Unbreak My Hart

The Notorious Harts

by Clare Connelly

Having her way with gorgeous Barrett Byron-Moore is easy—until Avery learns that he’s been sent by the billionaire Harts to find her. Now Barrett is confusing her instincts. And the more time they spend together—touching, tasting—the deeper this Cinderella is sinking...

Bad Mistake

The Pleasure Pact

by JC Harroway

Brooke desperately wants Nick Rivers, her mouth-wateringly hot bodyguard. Now, in Milan, she has one chance with him—on his terms. He calls the shots. All that control. All that restraint. Brooke deliciously surrenders to every naughty moment. But can he control what’s happening between them?

Sinfully Yours

by Margot Radcliffe

Dark and brooding hotel magnate Will Walker is exactly what Laura Edwards wants for Christmas. Too bad he can’t forgive her for disappearing years before... But when a snowstorm leaves her sharing Will’s penthouse their passion burns bright. This time can Will trust Laura to stay?

Dirty Secrets

by Regina Kyle

Gabrielle “Brie” Lawson can’t get any shut-eye—especially with her off-limits crush Connor Dow so close to her bedroom. Soon the gorgeous club owner trades working late hours for sultry nights with Brie. But will he risk his business for true love?

Fast Deal

by Faye Avalon


A COUPLE MORE MINUTES and he’d put a stop to it.

While the woman dancing on one of the low-level tables was nowhere near indecent, the suggestive way she was moving her hips to the music signalled things could be heading that way.

Connor Fitzpatrick sat back in his chair at the rear of the bar, nursing a whisky. His lower back complained, likely due to all the late nights he’d been pulling. He should be making time for the gym rather than running herd on a group of women who, from their laughter, had undoubtedly been upping his bar profits considerably.

While that was always good, it wasn’t as if either of his London clubs needed much in the way of a boost. They were going great guns. He looked around the packed club with its soft ambient lighting, deep, black leather sofas and stylish features in chrome and glass. This club had been his first and had quickly gained favour amongst the young and fashionable. That was why he had been well placed to act when providence had smiled on him and dropped the property he’d been patiently waiting to buy—and then destroy—right in his lap.

About bloody time. Now he could get closure, payback, revenge. Whatever the hell anyone chose to call it.

The deal he’d made with Damian McBride had taken some ducking and diving, but Connor had no scruples about putting on the emotional screws. Offering over the market value hadn’t hurt, either, which was why Connor was only a signature away from owning the now defunct Cabacal Club, the place that symbolised the lowest point of his life.

He had no idea what he’d do with it. Maybe j

ust gut the place, or let it fall to rack and ruin. He didn’t give a fuck.

It was no skin off his balls. And he should know, since they’d already been sliced and bruised enough for one lifetime. For the past five years he’d placed his focus squarely on building his business, taking pleasure in the rapid success his clubs had brought him. Now the acquisition of the property at the heart of his near-downfall would provide the last soothing layer of balm to heal old wounds right over.

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