Sawyer Bennett Facebook ad: “6 Books for 30% Off!”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

655535010179884

Platforms

Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network and Messenger

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0

EU reach

353

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Ad text

The moment I see her, I know I need her. It’s not just the usual lust that floods through me when I walk into The Wicked Horse Vegas. This place always delivers—luxury, pleasure, anonymity. I come here to indulge, to take what I want and walk away satisfied. But this woman? She’s different. The second she started to walk away from the glass, something inside me snapped. The way she hesitated, intrigued but hesitant, had me ready to chase her down. I don’t chase. Ever. But something about the way she carried herself—the way she let her friend drag her into my private room—had me ready to break all my own rules. Now, she’s in my arms. Pressed against the glass, her body soft and trembling, she moves with me, matching every roll of my hips. Strangers watch us throught the glass but I don’t care. I grip her tighter, whispering against her ear. “So damn sexy.” A gasping moan is my reward as she tilts her head back, surrendering. I trail a hand down her back, feeling the slight tremor in her muscles, the way she reacts to every touch. This isn’t just about control. It’s about trust. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as I savor the moment. The mask hides her face, but I can still see her—the way her lips part, the way she breathes my name. Something shifts inside me. I never get lost in the moment. Never lose focus. But with her? It’s different. She lets out a soft cry, her body tightening around me, and I reach up, cupping her face, watching her as she shatters. Her head tilts forward, our foreheads almost touching, and for the first time tonight, she fully meets my eyes. And that’s when I see it. The scar. My entire body locks up. A small, crescent-shaped mark on the side of her right breast, slightly raised. No. My eyes flick lower, searching—dreading. There’s another one, slightly smaller, almost identical. No, no, no. Panic grips me, even as pleasure still pulses through my veins. My heart slams against my ribs as I drag my gaze back to hers, my breathing ragged, because I already know. The bright, unmistakable shade of green staring back at me nearly knocks me sideways. Jorie Pearce. Micah’s little sister. Oh, hell. My stomach clenches, my grip faltering, but my body is still caught up in the aftershocks of what we just did. A fresh wave of sensation ripples through me, sharp and brutal. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. But I know one thing for damn sure— I just made the biggest mistake of my life. - Readers are saying, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "WOW! Once again, Sawyer Bennett brings out the steam! The Wicked Horse Las Vegas is proving to be just as HOT as the original." - Suzi, Obsessive Reading Disorder Buy DIRECT from the author and save! The PERFECT way to support the author is to bypass the big corporations and buy directly from Sawyer! Click, BUY NOW. Check out. Receive an email with the link to the ebook. Download to your favorite reading app. And READ!

Where the ad sends people

shop.sawyerbennett.com

6 Books for 30% Off!

"Sawyer Bennett is a master at writing dirty stuff!" ~Sonal