Cover Reveal : Stolen Donor - Cee Smith

~Hailey~ I did everything that was expected of me. I got good grades, went to a good college; I never even had a boyfriend, which for a normal girl of twenty-two was practically unheard of. My life was safe, predictable. That all changed when Dominic kidnapped me, robbing me of the cookie-cutter life I so carefully handcrafted. I was abducted and a new me was born. ~Dominic~ I spent so long uncovering secrets that it was becoming a bit of a specialty for me. After watching Hailey for twelve months I knew the secrets she held—the repressed temptation that called to men like me. Stealing her was easy, making her fall in love with me, even easier. It was the feeling she sparked in me that I had no control over. A feeling I never expected. But the one thing that threatened to unravel us both was my secret, the reason I took her in the first place. Dominic and Hailey were two people from two different worlds, and some paths should never cross.


WARNING: This book contains situations that some may find offensive. Please read with caution if you are sensitive to dubious consent or graphic language.


RELEASE DATE OF MARCH 30TH




The cold gray walls seem to shift before my eyes, and I feel lost in a maze of rooms with shackles dangling from the ceiling and lining the walls. I escape one room and find myself in another room just like it—just as cold and dark. The chill is like a fist, puncturing my skin and squeezing my heart until my limbs go numb. Slivers of light dance across the ceiling and floors like a disco ball, and I’m frozen by the appearance of light in this dark place. I chase the dancing lights like a child would a butterfly. Except, there’s nothing whimsical about this place. Here there are no windows or doors, no way to get in or out, so when I feel him, I wonder how he got here. How did he find me? That’s right, he’s been here all along watching me, waiting. At first, he just hangs back, a looming figure playing voyeur to my nightmares, but I sense he’s uneasy. I can hear his labored breaths and the sound of blood galloping through his veins. His heart is pounding, and every muscle in his body is straining, held back by some invisible force that is precariously close to snapping. It’s a force bigger than either of us. I am equally propelled and repulsed by it, but I can’t deny its magnitude. Then I feel the metal lock tight against me, restraining my wrists and ankles to a vertical black mat reminding me of that ride at the fair, the one where you’re in a spindle and gravity is forcing you against the walls while you spin round and round. Only, I’m not spinning, and I am more stuck than gravity could make possible. A thick, silver collar is latched around my neck with a chain dangling from the ceiling. I move my neck and listen as the chinks in the chain tumble together and pull taut once more. I can’t see him, but I feel his breath on my neck, feel it billowing across my skin, merging with the heat of my flesh. I can feel him beneath my skin, penetrating my thoughts. He could read my mind right now. He knows what I want, the things that excite me. My body craves more, and as if answering me, I feel his tongue tracing the cuff around my ankle. I’ve never known anything to be so erotic. He continues moving from one ankle to the next, from one wrist to the other, before landing at my neck. His tongue snakes around every shackle, as if I need reminding that I am his. My fingers want to reach out and touch this strange man who makes my fantasies come to life. I want to feel him beneath my fingers and watch his eyes light up from my touch. His arms box me in until I am sinking into the mat behind me, cocooning me until the only thing I feel is the flush of his skin against mine. Our bodies writhe against each other as our sparks turn into a full-blown fire. I feel a nudge against my stomach, and my back arches to get closer and feel the length of him. His body is hard and dominating, and the way his fingers pinch my hips sends tidal waves crashing through my center. Moisture begins to pool between my thighs, and I pull him in tighter between my legs, rubbing myself along the thick muscles of his legs. "Hailey," my name is a whisper on his lips before he captures my mouth in a soul-crushing kiss that is both gentle and punishing. He drinks me in, lavishing me with a tongue that is velvety smooth and soft, swiping through my mouth in strokes that make my face flush and toes curl. He claims me with this kiss, but it isn’t enough. I moan into his mouth loud, louder, until the whole room is a chorus of the sounds he elicits from the deepest parts of me. His hands fist in my hair, rocking my head back until my body is threaded tight as a bowstring and I am whimpering against his lips. He smiles a cruel smile, reveling in my obvious torture. I’m now naked before him. My clothes having evaporated into thin air. His fingers pinch my inner thighs, and he opens me wider to his assault. My body readies itself for his entry, depositing beads of moisture along my seam. With the first swipe of his tongue between my legs, every muscle in my body clenches, preparing me for the onslaught of his ravishing mouth. My fingernails plunge into the vinyl behind me as I swing my hips into his relentless tongue. The force propelling me forward is one I’ve never experienced before and one I can’t control. I feel its energy gaining momentum, rushing through my body waiting to be detonated and then his tongue moves faster, and I explode.

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Cee Smith is a lover of the written word. Since first learning how to string a sentence together, she’s been putting pen to paper and hasn’t looked back. Though she’s no longer obsessed with blood and gore, the dark side still calls to her, often finding refuge in her current writings. Her addiction to reading is what finally inspired her to take a chance at publishing. A California native, currently residing in North Carolina with her husband. She loves salacious stories, true love and forbidden romances—the more angst the better. Other than reading and writing, some of her other obsessions are peanut butter (don’t get her started), Michael Fassbender, and watching tv. She loves talking about the creative process and what books she’s reading, so feel free to shoot her a line. Or if you just want to say hi that’s fine too. She swears she’ll respond. 

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