it’s time to get depraved!
Delivered, Book 2 of The Devil’s Duet, is not a standalone. It should be read after reading Depraved.
I’m J.D. Wilder, and it takes a lot to shame me, but we’re about to see where you draw the line.
Gabrielle Duval once belonged to me.
And like it or not, she’ll be mine again.
In a world where money, power and corruption rule, I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.
Although nothing with that woman is ever easy.
But believe me when I tell you, I’ll enjoy every minute of the fight.
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Reviewed by emma on behalf of kff
The devil’s spawn is how he sees himself. A simple blunt object ready to accomplish his task, digging deeper into the murky water that is the world he lives in. Within the first chapter, there is a revelation that puts JD in a cruel light. A role that the further I read, the more it seemed impossibly unthinkable. JD had spent his entire adult life playing a game that had the highest stakes. A long game better than any I have witnessed. Coming into a world so vastly under-explained, I felt like I was often listening to people talking an unknown language. And in certain aspects, I guess I was. JD knows more of the back story than Gabrielle and he’s so truly torn between right, wrong and her.
‘“Such a good girl. You remembered what I told you. I need you to remember everything I tell you. I need you to obey me–always. Will you do that?”
She lowers her eyes and nods. And more than anything, I want it to be the truth. It’s the only real hope I have for keeping her safe.’
The daughter of a staff member and the Gentlemen’s son, very much an age-old trope, only in this book it’s so very different. From the very beginning of their relationship years ago; JD had promised Gabrielle that he would always keep her safe and in my mind, this has never ever changed. Sure, he certainly does the wrong things; but most assuredly he does them for the rightest of reasons.
‘…this lacks human decency in a way that our dirtiest sex never did. And what scares me the most isn’t that I’ll hate every second of his touch, but that I’ll enjoy it. Begin to crave it, like I craved it before. The signs are all pointing to the fact that no matter how much I lash out at him, no matter how much I want to hate him, my body–and my heart–remember. They miss him.’
Gabrielle is a marionette pulled this way and that by not only JD but other characters and the strings they pull. A woman trying to build her business and live a peaceful life, well, that is until JD stomps back into her life making outlandish demands. Demands, I myself would probably flay him alive for making.
Because of the nature of their relationship, there are huge amounts of angst. Gabrielle fear is having her heart broken again and JD fears he will never be able to keep her truly safe. If only he told her everything I have a feeling she’d still not make her own safety a priority but for him, she’d do something. What I really love about a second chance romance is how emotions are rawer, edgier, even darker. There’s an unwritten subtext that enthralls me as the reader. Paragraphs of text deepen the emotion and tension of the story simply by walking down memory lane.
‘The woman in the mirror isn’t a fool. She’s strong and smart. She knows what she wants. And the man standing behind her? The one she’s loved all her life? She wants him. With all his broken pieces. The nicked and dented fragments, and the twisted shards, beyond repair. Every one of them.’
JD is not an only child. The eldest of four boys, and with Gabrielle growing up at their home it meant that she knew all of them. For all, she was special in one or another. From my point of view, it always reminded me of Wendy with the Lost Boys in Neverland.
“I miss you. Miss you so much it hurts. I live with the pain every day. It’s crushing.”
‘I’m willing to live out my life alone, or with someone else. While no relationship will ever compare to the unrestrained passion I have with him, or the depth of connection we share, I can still have a full and loving relationship with someone else. I’ll learn to be content without the flames. They always seem to singe me anyway.’
Depraved is chock full of questions. Questions that even I didn’t think of until the character brought them up. JD’s father is the route to all evil and without saying much; he does remind me of someone very powerful but also very egocentric. Author’s idea or just me?
Thank goodness the second book releases so soon because I have zero patience and the cliffhanger at the end of Depraved was horrendous. It has been quite a while since I read a dark romance like this. I so relish when the timeline of a story is embedded in the past as well as the present. Thank you Ms. Charles, and well done.
© 2019 Eva Charles
All rights reserved
“What exactly does this—arrangement—you’re proposing, entail?”
“I won’t delve into every salacious detail, because I know you’re fully aware of what it entails.”
Not an answer. “What do you expect from me?”
“You don’t really want me to spell it out.”
“But I do. Spell it out, JD. Tell me exactly how you plan on degrading me, as though I’m not human. Go ahead,” I challenge. “I’m sure it’ll bring you lots of pleasure.”
“Gabrielle, you test my patience too often. One day you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
He’s fiddling with his knife. He can’t meet my eyes. He doesn’t want to say it. Something about it makes him uncomfortable. Somewhere inside he knows it’s wrong. I’m a bit relieved, but I won’t let him off the hook. I want him to squirm with discomfort. I want his stomach to churn until he tastes the bitter bile in his throat. I want whatever spark of conscience is left to keep him awake at night. If he wants to do this to me, he’s going to pay. “Spell. It. Out. Unless you’re too ashamed to say the words out loud.”
His eyes are black when he drags my chair to him, pinning my legs between his until I can’t move. His right thumb finds my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “It takes a lot to shame me. But we’re about to find out where you draw the line.”
I jerk my chin from his hold. In return, he squeezes his thighs around mine, holding them in a vise-like grip, the exquisite pressure forcing a bloom between my legs.
“You’ll get on your knees and put my cock in your sassy mouth any time I tell you to. After I come, you’ll lick every drop off your lips, and you’ll enjoy it. Just like you enjoyed it before. Like you enjoyed everything filthy thing I did to you. Are you ashamed yet, Gabrielle?” He lowers his head and the heat from his mouth grazes my temple. “I don’t think you are.”
My heart is racing. I can’t control it.
“Remember all those times I buried my face in your sweet pussy while you writhed under me? How you begged me to sink my cock into you? How you screamed and clawed before you trembled? It’ll be just like that. Only nothing is off limits this time. You were a dirty, greedy girl who begged shamelessly for release. I bet that hasn’t changed.” He runs a finger over my bare arm and I shiver. “You loved it then, all of it, and you’ll love it even more now.”
I maneuver back, and swing my arm to slap his face. But he catches it before I make contact. “I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me. You hate that you want to be under me again. If I stick my fingers in your pussy, it’ll tell the real story.” He lowers his head again, and murmurs near my ear. “Want me to do that? Slide a finger or two inside you? It’ll feel so good. Remember how much you liked it? This is just too much for you to process right now. You don’t know how you feel. I can help you figure it out. Let me.”
I’m aroused. Disgracefully aroused by his husky voice, his filthy words, and the memories of him pleasuring me. My core is throbbing. And I don’t need him to check if I’m wet. I’m drenched.
He’s right. I don’t hate him. I’m filled with unresolved anger, resentment, and hurt. And I’m confused. So confused. But if he stroked my breast, or brushed his fingers over the slick flesh between my thighs, I would press my pussy into his hand. No, I don’t hate him. I hate myself for being so weak.
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A confirmed city-girl, Eva moved to rural Western Massachusetts in 2014. She found herself living in the woods with no job, no friends (unless you count the turkey, deer, and coyote roaming the backyard), and no children underfoot, wondering what on earth she had been thinking. But as it turned out, it was the perfect setting to take all those yarns spinning in her head and weave them into steamy love stories.
A romantic at heart, Eva looks forward to date night all week. The perfect evening includes well-crafted cocktails, a fabulous perfume, Cherry Garcia ice cream, and her husband, of course. If you add good friends, live jazz, and impossible shoes, she will follow you anywhere.
Eva holds a BA from Boston College, and a JD from the Washington College of Law. She spent a career working in domestic violence, child abuse and neglect, and civil rights. Aspects of this work often find their way into her books.
When she’s not writing sexy stories, trying to squeeze information out of her tight-lipped sons, or playing with the two cutest dogs you’ve ever seen, Eva’s creating chapters in her own love story.
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