Novels by Amanda Myles

Chapter 2“You’ve been a good girl, but it’s time to show me what you’re really capable of.” His hand trailed down my spine, firm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Before I could respond, he stepped away, leaving me trembling in anticipation. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single lamp. My husband usually used this room with his girls when he brought them over, letting me sleep in our bed. My heart pounded as I heard the drawer slide open, the sound echoing in the silence.Ethan returned, holding something in his hand, but he didn’t let me see it yet. “Turn around,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. I obeyed, my eyes locking onto his as he stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips. The air between us felt thick with lust and need, and I felt my breath quicken as he moved closer, his presence filling the space.“Tonight, you’re mine, baby,” he growled, his gaze intense, as if he could see straight into my soul. “Every inch of you. Every moan, every whimper

Chapter 1Ethan was my gardener; he shouldn’t be looking at me like this…it wasn’t right, but it made me feel so good, made me feel beautiful, my husband never made me feel like this.He never worshipped my body like Ethan did; he preferred to touch himself to the women in magazines, leaving me to rot.I was a woman, I had needs.I stood on the patio, my silk robe clinging to my body in the faint breeze. Ethan stood in front of me, his broad shoulders filling everywhere, his dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made her breath catch. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest, glistening faintly with a sheen of sweat. I could see the definition of his abs and the hard lines of his body.Ethan’s strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me and finally…finally I pressed my lips against his, my tears mingling with the heat of his mouth. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if we both needed to prove something to ourselves, to each other. My fingers

Chapter 7Damian stood before me, his dark eyes burning with a mix of lust and need, I was pressed against the confessional booth, the wood rough against my bare back, the rosary beads biting into my wrists as he bound me tightly. The veil that I wore around my face now pooled at my feet, leaving me exposed, my pale skin flushed, my breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.“Confess your sins, Sister,” Damian growled, his voice a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down my spine. His fingers traced the curve of my hip, his touch possessive, his other hand gripping the crucifix from the booth’s altar. He pressed it into my palm, forcing my fingers to close around the cold metal. “Tell me how you’ve defiled yourself with me.”I bit my lip, my body trembling as I met his gaze. The weight of the crucifix in my hand was a cruel reminder of the vows I’d broken, my faith I'd betrayed. But the ache between my thighs, the way my nipples hardened under his stare, it all told a different

Chapter 6“Arms behind your back.”I obeyed even though my pulse hammered in my throat as the cold metal of the handcuffs clicked around my wrists, binding them tightly. The leash tugged, guiding me forward until my hips pressed against the edge of the table.“Bend over.”I leaned forward, my chest pressing against the rough wood, my bound hands resting against the surface. The position left my ass exposed, vulnerable. I heard the cap of the oil bottle pop open, and the slick sound of him pouring it into his palm.Then his hands were on me.His palms slid over my skin, warm and firm, spreading the oil in slow, deliberate strokes. He massaged my lower back, his thumbs digging into the tense muscles before trailing lower, over the curve of my ass. I shivered as his fingers dipped between my cheeks, teasing the tight pucker of my hole.“Relax,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “You’re going to take me here first.”My breath hitched, my body tensing. “F-Father, I—”The whip

Chapter 5I remained motionless, my breath shallow, my fingers laced together in my lap as I knelt on the cold wooden floorboards. Father Damian stood before me, his cassock draped over his broad shoulders. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, but I could feel him, his heat, the way his breath. It’s like my body and mind had already recognised him.His fingers twitched at his sides, as if resisting the urge to reach for me.“Look at me, Alexis,” he commanded, his voice deep and low.I obeyed, lifting my chin just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, unreadable, the pupils swallowed by the dim light. There was no kindness in them. Only hunger and ownership.“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” His hand lifted, knuckles grazing my cheek before his fingers curled into the fabric at my throat. “About what comes next.” He didn’t phrase it as a question. He already knew.I swallowed, my pulse fluttering against his touch. “Y-yes, Father.”A slow, knowing smirk tugged at

Chapter 4I remained kneeling in the front pew, my fingers trembling as I recalled Father Damian’s sermon, each word directed towards me. I could still feel his gaze on me, as he’d spoken of temptation and sin.The scrape of a boot against stone made my spine stiffen. I didn’t need to turn to know he was there, of course. The rustle of his robes as he descended the pulpit steps sent my belly spiralling, my pussy already slick with anticipation.“You linger, child,” Father Damian murmured, his voice as rough as he stopped just behind me. His fingers brushed the nape of my neck, tracing it beneath my veil. “Did my words move you?”I swallowed, my pulse hammering in my throat. “Yes, Father.”His chuckle was low. “Liar.” Before I could react, his hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back “You weren’t listening to God, were you? You were listening to me.” His free hand slid down my chest, His palm flattening over my breast, his thumb rolling my nipple through the thin fabric until it