Posted in Doms of the FBI, Weekend Teaser

Kissing Bandits Weekend Teaser #reclaimed #michelezurlo


reclaimed FB1Layla’s wicked fantasies had already caused problems that left her with deep emotional scars, so when she got a second chance to live them out, she insisted on strict rules and boundaries.

Dustin agreed to abide by Layla’s rules because that’s the only way he could have her, but after a while, it wasn’t enough. He wanted the whole woman—the impulsive, stubborn parts as well as her sweet, generous side—and so he insists she give him a fair chance to prove he’s worthy of her love. He’s over the moon when she agrees to date him, even if she insists on a vanilla relationship.

Complicating matters is the return of her abusive ex-Master, a kidnapped child, and a human trafficking ring that’s been targeting teens from the community center Layla runs. When the investigation turns up nothing, Layla takes desperate measures that put her and Dustin in danger.

In Re/Claimed (Doms of the FBI 3), Michele Zurlo delivers another hot, heartwrenching, and stunning BDSM romantic suspense tale.

Warnings: D/s, kidnap/breaking-and-entering fantasy play, impact play, bondage, spanking, anal play, electric play, and some seriously sexy kinky footwear

Adult Excerpt:

Other friends and members of the family had arrived, and the house rang with conversation, laughter, and the squeals of small children. The bathroom on the main floor never seemed to be free, so Layla headed up the stairs. Perhaps it was a little on the rude side to use their private restroom, but it was an emergency. Just to be stealthy, she relied on the ambient light coming up the steps to find her way around.

On the way out, a hand clamped over her mouth, and she found herself pressed back against a hard body. Though her heart raced, she recognized Dustin immediately, so she didn’t struggle. Excitement bubbled through her veins, but this was the wrong time and place for a scene. She hadn’t seen him all afternoon, and she had no idea why he would attempt something like this now—especially after his polite reception.

Reclaimed5002 She cooperated as he pulled her into a spare bedroom. He closed the door. In the scant streetlight that filtered through the curtains, she could make out the shape of a bed near the window of Darcy’s guest room.

Dustin shoved her face-first against the wall. He used his weight to hold her in place, and she felt one hand work the button and zipper on her jeans. She grabbed at his hand, trying to halt his actions.

It didn’t work. If he felt her protest, he completely ignored her. He plunged his hand down the front of her pants, cupping her mound. Behind her, he ground his hard cock against her ass.

Adrenaline kicked through her veins for two reasons. First, she desperately didn’t want to be caught. Second, the sheer naughtiness set her juices flowing. She surrendered to the second feeling for several gluttonous moments. Then her better sense kicked in and she renewed her struggle.

She landed a couple lucky kicks to his shins, but that didn’t stop him. The loud thunk of her foot hitting the wall halted his actions.

He rested his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. Breathing heavily into her neck, he shook his head. “If you can’t be quiet, then everybody downstairs will know what a kinky little slut you are because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to fuck you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

She knew this man, but taking him out of context also moved her out of her comfort zone. His vehement reassurance calmed her nerves enough for her to concentrate on the way her clit pulsed against his palm.

As her heartbeat calmed, she nodded consent. He eased his hand away from her mouth.

She inhaled a huge breath and licked her lips. “I think you might want to keep it there.” The more she enjoyed sex, the louder she became.

He chuckled as he pushed her jeans and panties down. In seconds, she felt his bare cock sliding toward her pussy. He guided it into her hot and dripping cunt, stretching and filling her in a way that made her feel possessed.

She braced her hands against the wall. Her jeans imprisoned her legs. She couldn’t spread them to gain leverage. Caught between clothing and his weight, she was forced to stand still and accept whatever he wanted to do to her. Nothing turned her on more.

Over and over, he stabbed her sweet spot. It didn’t take long for the hot coil tightening inside her abdomen to burst. He clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle the noises, and he buried his face in her neck as jets of his semen shot into her pussy.

They stayed that way for nearly a minute, and she suspected he was trying for a brief cuddle—something else she’s prohibited. Then he stepped away from her, fixed his clothes, and reached for the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” She scrambled to pull up her jeans.

He laughed, but she heard his bitterness. “What you want me to do.” With that, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

She leaned against the wall that had just cradled her body. For the first time, she felt empty and dissatisfied after his departure.





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Author Bio: I’m Michele Zurlo, author of the Doms of the FBI series and many other stories. I write contemporary and paranormal, BDSM and mainstream—whatever it takes to give my characters the happy endings they deserve.

I’m not half as interesting as my characters. My childhood dreams tended to stretch no further than the next book in my to-be-read pile, and I aspired to be a librarian so I could read all day. I ended up teaching middle school, so that fulfilled part of my dream. Some words of wisdom from an inspiring lady had me tapping out stories on my first laptop, so in the evenings, romantic tales flow from my fingertips.

I’m pretty impulsive when it comes to big decisions, especially when it’s something I’ve never done before. Writing is just one in a long line of impulsive decisions that turned out to showcase my great instincts. Find out more at or @MZurloAuthor.



I’m Michele Zurlo, author of over 20 romance novels. During the day, I teach English, and in the evenings, romantic tales flow from my fingertips.

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