Elianne Adams – Erzabet Bishop
Muffy Wilson – Tanith Davenport
Jacintha Topaz – Elvira Bathory
Tara Crescent – Crystal Dawn
Tricia Owens – D. F. Krieger
A.C. Nixon – Isis Pierce
Abi Aiken & Rozlyn Sparks
Gina Kincade & Kiki Howell
Bethany Shaw – Danielle Gavan
Abby Hayes – Tierney O’Malley
Jacqueline Sweet – Angelica Dawson
Naughty Nights Press ● Canada
First, we would like to thank you for taking the time to read our free set of short stories. You are welcome to share the links to this set with as many friends as you like, just please don’t share your copy. This set will remain free for as long as the series is available, so there’s no need for anyone not to have his or her very own copy. Yay!
The authors in Alpha Heat wanted to provide our readers with a tantalizing taste of our world building and characters in the accompanying boxed set to come in a few short weeks, Alpha Fever.
To do this, we thought what better way than to pen some individual short stories and give these to our readers for free. So we did. Sort of a thank you to tide you over as you wait for your pre-ordered purchase of our set of twenty two novellas at the amazing deal we’ve offered. You’ve done that, right? Of course you have. We hope you will love our short stories, too, and we are happy to see you enjoy everything we have put together just for you.
If you’re of a mind, please consider leaving us a review on the distributor site you downloaded this boxed set from, or even better, on the next installment in the Alpha Heat & Alpha Fever series of boxed sets, or both. Reviews are our way of life, our bread and butter, and our driving force. Hearing your thoughts, knowing what you liked, and even what you may not have liked as much, encourages us to keep writing every single day. Knowing you’re out there waiting for the next dreamy, steamy read means the world to us authors. Your reviews are the best advertising and motivation us authors could ever have, and we appreciate each and every moment, every reflection and feeling you put into your reviews. They don’t have to be big, oh no, not at all; even one-liners will do. Every word from our readers is cherished and remains in the minds of our authors as they craft the next great book. So thank you, if you do review. We adore you!
From the Alpha Fever Boxed Set of USA Today, Amazon, Award Winning, and International best selling authors, we bring you 21 steamy short stories to get your temperature rising as we introduce some of our characters.
Don’t miss out on our boxed set of 22 full-length novellas in Alpha Fever, coming to you on March 19th!
Alpha Heat: A Boxed Set of 21Tantalizing Contemporary & Paranormal Romance Short Story Teasers
Shakespir Edition March 2016
Published by Naughty Nights Press, LLC
Credit to the individual editors of each author.
Copyright © Naughty Nights Press 2016:
Elianne Adams – Erzabet Bishop – Muffy Wilson – Rozlyn Sparks – Jacintha Topaz – Elvira Bathory – Tara Crescent – Crystal Dawn – Tricia Owens – D. F. Krieger – A.C. Nixon – Isis Pierce – Abi Aiken – Dawn White – Kiki Howell – Gina Kincade – Bethany Shaw – Danielle Gavan – Abby Hayes – Tierney O’Malley – Jacqueline Sweet – Angelica Dawson – Tanith Davenport
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What the hell had he been thinking? He hadn’t been. That was the problem. Six fucking months. That was how long Warren had been waiting for Joy to emerge from her grieving shell and come to him. But she hadn’t. When he got the call from Max saying that she was at the gym and he’d better get his ass down there, he dropped everything and went.
He wasn’t usually a controlling bastard, but his good sense scattered when it came to this particular female. He didn’t care that she wanted to join the gym. Many women in the wolf shifter community did, and it wasn’t a problem. It was all the fucking testosterone that would surround her that made his wolf want to tear into people who probably didn’t deserve to be torn into.
She was his mate, but he had no way of getting her to realize it without coming off as an insensitive asshole. That didn’t mean he’d stand there and let other males come sniffing around her, either.
By the time he got there, she was already changed and warming up. She had boxing gloves on, of all things. Couldn’t she just go for a jog on the treadmill or something? No, she had to be smack dab in the middle of other males, hopping around like fucking Muhammad Ali with her hands jabbing into the air and her breasts bouncing around with every damned move she made.
He had to admit she looked pretty damned hot doing it in her tight little tank top and low riding sweats, though. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one noticing. “Keep them off her,” he growled at Max as he headed into the changing room.
Max had her working at the heavy bag when Warren came out. Even from across the gym, Warren could tell her stance was all wrong. Her arms were down, and her point of contact was off. She’d end up hurting herself if she kept punching the way she was.
“I can take over from here, Max.” Warren wanted to growl at the man, even though he’d been the one to ask him to watch over her.
“Sure. Let me know if you need anything,” the wolf said as he sauntered away.
Joy stepped back, eyeing him like he’d grown a second head. She was breathing a little heavily, and her skin had a sweaty shine to it—gorgeous. It was all he could do to keep his eyes on her face and not let his gaze travel down the rest of her body.
“I can let you have this one, Alpha. I didn’t realize you were using it.” She tilted her head to indicate the bag.
“I wasn’t. Your stance is all wrong. I came over to give you some pointers,” he told her, trying to ignore the tightening in his groin her scent created.
Her eyes rounded a little. “Oh, okay. Thanks.”
“First off, you keep dropping your hands. You’re leaving yourself open. Keep them up here.” He brought them up to the proper position. “Like this. When you punch they should come all the way back here.”
Joy swung a few times, bringing her hands to her chin when she pulled them in again.
“Great. And your point of contact is way off. You want to hit the bag straight on with your middle knuckle. One bad punch and you’re going to hurt your hand.” He hit the heavy bag a few times to show what he meant, then got behind her. Big mistake. With her scent teasing his nose and her body so close to his, all he could think about was wrapping her in his arms and pulling her in tight. He wanted to nibble on that delicate neck of hers until she melted into him.
His cock jerked at the thought of all that softness pressed against him. Joy was right there—so close. If his wolf had its way, he’d already be fucking her right through the mat on the floor, but he couldn’t do that. Shit. He looked down and groaned. He should have kept his fucking jeans on. At least he could pretend the raging hard on tenting his sweats didn’t exist.
Joy tried to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest, but it was no use. She had wanted a good workout and had hoped to strike up a conversation with a shifter or two at the gym. But the last thing she had expected was to have her Alpha come by and give her boxing pointers. Had she known that was all it would take to have the man who haunted her lustful dreams come to her, she would have watched the damned boxing videos and come to the gym a long time ago.
Warren stood behind her, his huge hands on her shoulders. “Okay, hit the bag.” His voice rumbled deep and sexy right next to her ear. His hot breath fanned her neck, sending a shiver straight through her. Just a small step back and she’d be up against him.
She blinked a few times trying to remember what he’d asked of her. Oh, right. Hit the bag. She brought her arms up and swung, almost missing the bag entirely. Shit.
“You’re not concentrating, Joy,” he said, his voice sending another jolt through her.
“I’m sorry. I’m pretty new at this,” she admitted. The only reason she’d chosen to take up boxing was because she knew Warren included it in his workouts. The fact that she enjoyed it was a side bonus.
Warren brought his hand from her right shoulder to her wrist. He positioned it where he wanted, then stepped back. “It’s okay. You’ll get it. This is where I want you to hit. Not so far back this time.” He slid his hand down the red leather, showing her.
She took her swing, hitting the bag right where he’d instructed.
“Much better. Now you have to do the same with the left. Always with the middle knuckle.” He came behind her, positioning both her arms, pressing his hard chest against her back. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. When he moved away, it was all she could do to keep a needy whimper from slipping past her lips.
When he brought his hands to rest on her hips, her heart thudded, then raced ahead. Although the workout so far hadn’t been all that strenuous, she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
“Use your whole body. Boxing, whether you’re facing an opponent or the bag, isn’t just in the arms. You have to move with it to put power behind the punches. Now, go again,” he demanded.
The authoritative tone of his voice had her girly parts tingling as she drew her arm back and struck the bag, first with the right, then with the left. Whap. Whap.
“You’re too tight. Let me show you.”
Joy stepped to the side, more than happy to watch him move and pose for her.
“See how my legs are? When you strike, you’re going to move everything from your feet up.” Warren didn’t have gloves on, but he punched the bag anyway, demonstrating what he wanted her to do. “Try again.”
She was going to regret letting him get that close, there was no doubt about it, but she got in front of the bag and brought her arms up. She didn’t have them up quite high enough, and her feet weren’t in the right position, but if this was the only contact she’d have with him, she wanted to make it last.
Warren didn’t disappoint. With his hands on her hips, he twisted her so she was facing in the right direction. Pushing his knee between her legs, he widened her stance. “How long did you say you’ve been doing this?”
“I just started. I watched a few videos at home and practised in front of a mirror. Today is my first time at the gym.”
Joy let the building pressure wash over her. She hadn’t had a heat since before the rest of her pack had been slaughtered over six months ago, but the need pulsing through her told her one was coming. All she wanted to do was throw her gloves off and tackle him to the mat. Too bad there were so many people in the gym. All around her, men were grunting and sweating as they did their workouts. If it wasn’t for the fact that the only one her wolf was interested in was the one who had his leg between hers, she might have enjoyed the sweaty display of rippling muscles.
Her wolf clawed at her, wanting more intimacy. It wanted her to rub herself all over Warren and claim him as her own. She could push her hips back and get a whole lot better acquainted with Warren, but she’d break her position. Was it worth the humiliation if he pushed her away? Totally worth it. But before she had the chance to do it, he pulled back.
“Okay, let me see.”
When she glanced at him, his eyes were on her form. On her ass, to be exact. Heart racing, she gave it a little extra sway as she turned her attention to the bag and swung, putting his lesson into motion. A second later, the deep rumble of his growl had her spinning to face him. He took two steps, eliminating the distance between them in an instant.
As if the man wasn’t sexy enough on his own, that deep growl had her throbbing at her core. “How was that?” The words came out in a husky whisper. He had yet to touch her, but her nipples pebbled and strained against the soft fabric of her tank.
He brought his hands to her hips, pulling her closer. When the hard ridge of his cock pressed into her belly, she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. She shifted her weight from one side to the other, her body rubbing against his. This was what she needed—what her wolf needed.
“Much better.” His gaze drifted to her mouth, and his minty breath mingled with hers.
A throat cleared next to them. “Call for you in the front office. Want me to take over?” Max asked, not looking directly at her.
Warren stiffened against her. The sexy sound he’d just made was replaced by something darker, meaner. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her closer. He held her there for a moment, then closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled away.
“No, I’ll train Joy. Book us in for Tuesday afternoon,” he told Max before he looked at her for approval. “Two o’clock?”
How was she supposed to think when he’d been about to kiss her? When her body was still humming with need? “Sure,” she blurted out. She glanced at Max, who was busy looking at his shoes.
“Great. See you then.” Warren turned and left.
With all the sexual energy rushing through her, Joy didn’t bother with a shower. She pulled her hoodie on over her tank top before heading out of the changing room. A good run around Hersey Lake might shave the edge of her frustration off, or not, but it was worth a try. At least her wolf would be happy with the run in the woods.
She was just passing the front desk when a giggle drifted to her from the office behind it. Long blonde tresses fell down a narrow back to end just above a jean-covered ass. The woman had one arm around Warren’s neck and her free hand halfway hidden beneath the bottom hem of his black T-shirt.
Joy’s inner wolf snarled, and it took everything in her not to let the reaction bubble up to the surface. She waited for half a beat, expecting him to push the woman away, but when the woman giggled again, and he didn’t, Joy didn’t wait around to see more.
“Don’t bother with the appointment for next Tuesday, Max. I won’t be able to make it.” She turned and walked out the door.
Élianne Adams, is a self-proclaimed tropical Princess, so how she came to be born and live in snowy Canada is a mystery. She loves to read (and write) romances that lure you into different worlds, the kinds that suck you in until the very end.
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Natalie had never seen so many paddles in one place. Wooden and rubber in all shapes and sizes. It was, in a word, mesmerizing. Her two new mates stood behind her, their nervous fidgeting bringing a smile to her face. She’d just finished cleaning up after brunch and decided today would be the day. She wanted to explore the downstairs area of their building. Ventures, the club. More pointedly, the spanking benches.
She’d come across Jonathan working on one in his workshop and had been fascinated. The care he visited on the pieces was simply amazing. Every touch was a veritable caress on the wood, coaxing perfection out of what to anyone else would have been just a carpentry project. She now knew those hands, what they were capable of, and longed to be even more a part of his world. To learn what made him crave the D/s lifestyle with Lucas and now her. Three to make a family.
Jonathan’s work was sublime. Leather padding and varnished wood of such fine quality, she would have expected to find something like this in a furniture shop. Well…if furniture shops sold spanking benches.
“Is that for the club?” Natalie peered over his shoulder, curious to see what he so lovingly crafted with his hands.
“No. This one’s for Club Beam. Seems their Fae dominant has made a few new conquests and needs a couple new benches for his play space.”
“Thank you.” Jonathan’s eyes sparkled, and she sucked in her breath at the amount of feeling she saw swimming in their depths. A bear shifter and a man of few words, she felt safe with him. And Lucas.
She would be forever grateful to Sylvia and Paige from Shifting Hearts for getting creative outside the lines and sending her to a meet and greet party at the bondage club. And for that damned questionnaire. Natalie never would have admitted to wanting to try some of the things on that list if she hadn’t been so irritated with her mother for constantly trying to pair her up with every damned politically motivated ferret and weasel for miles around.
But that was over and now she was here. Her hedgie hummed under her skin. Two mates to love her. Two men who needed her as much as she needed them. Her mind snapped back to the present and she nibbled on her bottom lip. Paddles. Right.
“Do you see one you want to try?” Lucas placed his hand on the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. His cat lay close to the surface, his eyes betraying his excitement. His mid-length sable hair was tied back today with a leather cord, leaving his roguish expression free and clear.
Instead of leather, today he wore a simple pair of jeans, his feet and chest bare. It was before club hours and he was off work from his shop, Scarlet Ink, across the street.
Jonathan, her big but quietly pensive teddy bear, joined them, selecting a paddle with a heart cut out of the wood. “I like this one.” The gray t-shirt gripped his muscular chest like a second skin. His powerful thighs were encased in weathered jeans that rested over the top of his ever present black boots.
“Of course you would. You made it so it leaves a mark.” Lucas grinned and took the paddle from him. A switch in every way there was, Lucas could be a top or a bottom depending on the circumstance. It was super hot when he and Jonathan slipped into their dynamic, and more than once she found herself wet with desire, not quite sure how she fit in to this threesome. But she was happy. Equally important, so was her inner hedgie.
They were all still getting to know each other, and with that adventure came a foray into the much read about, but never experienced, world of BDSM. Lucas and Jonathan ran Ventures, a club that gave shifters and humans a place to be themselves. Now Natalie just had to figure out what that was.
Her hedgie wanted their mates to make babies, whether they were cubs, kits or baby hedgies. But this curvy girl, well…she wanted to explore the sexy side of life with the business end of a paddle. She had a feeling she could be naughty enough to deserve a rather nice spanking each and every day of her life. From both of her men.
“I love it.” She accepted the paddle from Lucas, letting her fingers roam over the smooth finish. It was truly the work of an artisan.
“Do you want to try being the spanker or the spankee the first time?”
“What?” She was so startled by the question, she almost lost her grip on the paddle.
“Lucas here needs a proper swat or two for getting us in the newspaper, don’t you boy?” Jonathan pulled him close and slapped him on the ass before drawing him in for a scorching kiss that left her panties soaked just watching.
“Can she?” Lucas turned his golden eyes to her. “I would love that.”
“Oh…that would be different. But then it’s my turn, okay? To be the spankee, I mean.” Natalie giggled and wrapped her fingers around the handle. She gave it a swing and the air whistled through the holes.
“Absolutely.” Jonathan smiled. “Now, where do you want him?”
“On one of your benches.” She didn’t even have to think twice. Natalie turned from the wall of implements and let her gaze wander over the selection of benches before her. Some were more padded than others, and some leaned more toward a firm wooden surface. “Which one do you like, Lucas?”
“This one. It has a brace to hold on to and a couple of different ways you can either stand or kneel.” He lowered himself onto the leather kneeler to illustrate.
“Pants off or do you want them on?”
“Off.” Heat slid up her cheeks and her stomach fluttered.
With a wink, Lucas divested himself of his jeans and stood naked, his cock jutting proudly toward her. “I thought you might say that.”
“Very pleasing. Now, let’s see that ass.” Jonathan ran his hand along Lucas’s firm backside.
Lucas knelt against the bench, his thighs flexing.
“Cheeky cat.” Jonathan moved behind her, gripping her hands to guide her swing. “Now, you try.”
Jonathan stepped back, giving her space to work. She was glad she’d thought to bring a simple pair of shorts, a tee, and some sneakers. Anything with a heel would have made her wobble for sure, and that wasn’t what was needed here.
Her hedgie wiggled impatiently, urging her forward. She eyed Lucas’s fine ass and swung, the paddle connecting with a loud smacking sound.
“Omph!” The cat shifter grunted, his mouth falling open in startled surprise.
“He didn’t think you’d do it. Do you want to make him count?” Jonathan pressed a kiss to her cheek and waved her forward.
Natalie grinned. “No. Not this time.”
“Okay. How about a couple more? Just so you can get a better feel for what it’s like to hold the paddle.”
Natalie nibbled on her lip and nodded. “Okay. You’re sure, Lucas?”
Her mate hummed and she noticed his cock still hard and at the ready.
“Oh yes. Please.”
Her pussy spasmed at the expression of bliss on his handsome face. God how she wanted to touch him right now. To feel his tongue against her skin and his cock inside of her.
“Oh…yes. Sorry.” She swung the paddle, air whistling through the heart-shaped holes.
He moaned and the sound of his pleasure gave her courage to do it once again. A pink blush bloomed on his backside, the heart cutouts leaving lovely marks on his skin. She let the paddle fly once more and smiled at the visceral sound of wood meeting flesh.
“Good. Would you like to try it?”
“Lucas?” Jonathan helped him up from the bench, running his fingers along his erect cock. Lucas hitched his breath and rested his head against the larger man’s shoulder. “How’s about we show this young lady what it is to be our sub?”
“Nothing would make me happier.”
“Good.” Jonathan smiled at Natalie, his bear shining in his eyes. “Strip for us love. We want to warm your backside and fuck you.”
“Oh…” Heat slid up Natalie’s face and her nipples tightened in response. She shucked off her sneakers and yanked her tee shirt over her head, tossing it on the ground near the base of the spanking bench. One snap later, and her shorts joined the pile. Clad in her panties and bra, she faced the men.
“Panties and bra too, love.” Jonathan pressed a kiss to her lips. “We want to see that pretty little pussy and those gorgeous breasts.” He reached down to tweak her nipple through the lace of the bra.
Natalie gasped, the sensation traveling straight down to her core in a wave of liquid heat. She hooked her thumbs into the now damp panties and slid them down her legs and onto the floor. Her bra gone in a single flick of the wrist, it too joining the ever-growing pile of clothes.
“Excellent. Now, why don’t you kneel on the bench like you saw Lucas do? We’ll start out slow. Give you a couple of swats.”
“I don’t think I can last more than that.” Lucas admitted, his voice bearing the evidence of his cat’s presence. “I need to be inside of her.”
“Let’s give her something to warm up with.” Jonathan gripped the paddle as Lucas helped her into position.
Natalie settled in, her knees firmly planted against the leather. She thought she would feel exposed with her ass out there for the world to see, but then she reminded herself the club was closed. The men would never do anything to make her uncomfortable. That much she knew, even though their time together had been brief. She trusted them to take it slow, but she wanted this. Wanted to feel the sting of the paddle against her flesh, and to take them inside of her like they did on that first night. Her mates.
They made her feel beautiful and desired above all other women, and when Jonathan held her, she felt positively dainty against him. The large bear shifter made her quiver in her skin, and that was something she never in a million years thought she’d experience. Real men who accepted her, curves and all.
Just thinking of their cocks pushing into her body quickened the blood in her veins, her hedgie eager to get on with it.
“Impatient girl.” Natalie whispered, her fingers wrapping around the wooden bar to steady herself against the impact she knew was coming.
“Sorry. Internal hedgie dialog. Yes, I’m ready.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Now that I understand. My bear seems to be in a hurry to bury our cock inside of you as well.”
“You two…Hurry up before I forgo the paddle and take care of our girl myself.”
The paddle swung. Natalie heard the now familiar whistle as it traveled through the air. It connected with her backside with a loud whack and she cried out, surprised by how much it hurt.
“Good girl. Hold still.”
Jonathan swung once more, this time on the other cheek.
“How are you, love? Color?”
“Green,” she panted, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. The pain was sweet, moving quickly to her pussy.
“Once more.” He swung, nailing the same spot that had started the slow burn.
She moaned, arching her ass into the air. A cock nudged her entrance and she spread her knees farther apart.
“You’re mine little one. So sweet with those pink ass cheeks.”
Lucas slid his hand along her sensitive flesh and she quivered. He thrust inside of her, claiming her body in one swift movement. She heard the rustle of clothing, and Jonathan ambled into her line of vision. Cock in hand, he stroked himself with every motion of Lucas’s hips.
Lucas fucked her with his body, and Jonathan fucked her with his gaze. She feasted on the length of his cock, a promise of what was to come later. Pounding into her, Lucas coaxed her body to greater heights as he fingered her clit. She spasmed around him, her body convulsing.
“Not fair, starting without me.” Lucas gripped her hips, driving his thick member into her mercilessly. “Jonathan, now.”
“Will you take me in your mouth?”
Would she ever. Watching him stroke himself a delicious torture.
She wanted to taste him. Jonathan moved in front of her, and she opened her mouth to receive him. The warm musk of his masculine scent filled her nostrils and her body slid closer to release. They were together once more. Now she could well and truly fly.
Jonathan groaned. She sucked harder, running her tongue along the ridge of his dick. He wrapped his hand in her hair and threw his head back, bucking against her face. Natalie opened further, allowing his cock to enter her, root to tip. She fought the gag reflex, his soft head pressing against the back of her throat.
Encouraged by her bold acceptance, his thrusts became more animated. He cried out, hot seed splashing into her mouth. She swallowed, fighting to breathe through her nose as Jonathan shuddered, a satisfied growl sliding from his lips.
“God, woman. That was…” He stayed where he was, stroking her hair as Lucas continued to coax her body toward culmination. He pinched her breasts, and slid his hand to the cleft between her legs, just brushing against her sensitive nub.
Natalie’s eyes crossed and she had to focus on not bearing down with her teeth. Lucas fucked her hard, jerking against her body, his own release taking over. “Now, Natalie. Come now.”
Stars fired behind her eyes and her senses exploded. She cried out as Jonathan withdrew. Her channel pulsed around Lucas’s cock, spasming. Lucas sagged against her, wrapping her in his embrace, his seed emptying into her womb.
Natalie’s beast roared within her, happiness sliding underneath her skin. Lucas pulled out, and her two mates tugged her between them, pressing kisses against her face.
Lucas gazed deep into her eyes and claimed her lips for his own. His tongue teased her mouth open, and she reveled in the taste of him. Heady and masculine, and oh so very hers…
Her cat had her tongue and she was very happy.
“Ummm. What’s for lunch?”
“Yes. Now that you mention it. I’m hungry, too. You want a pizza? I can call.” Lucas smiled into her eyes.
Natalie stretched and snuggled deeper into his arms. “That sounds amazing.”
“Deal. But then I get dessert.” Jonathan pressed his already erect cock to her back and she smiled. Soon would be time to play poke the bear…and she couldn’t wait.
Erzabet Bishop is a bestselling and award winning author of erotic romance. She is the author of Crave, A Red Dress for Christmas, Club Beam, Spirit Board, Wicked for You and many other titles.
Find more of Erzabet on or or sign up for her .
He was perfect.
She knew he had no idea her eyes followed him. How was he to know that for the past year she stood at the upstairs window and watched him as he walked home from the bus stop every day since she moved into the neighborhood? He was not to know. She did not want him to know. His limp, more noticeable than usual, was exaggerated because he used his umbrella as it was meant to be used in the rain and not as a walking stick enhancing his new swagger. He did not hurry, in spite of the rain. There was no longer a need. He was alone on the street and unburdened by a fear more crippling than his deformity. He put the boisterous, taunting gangs of prepubescent bullies that dotted the streets during his normal schedule in their place last year. In any event, today the rain forced the little terrorists off the streets and home early and he walked home in peace.
Victoria reminisced as she watched him from the upstairs window of her suite. He had an obvious practiced steadiness in his walk through the rain. His foot could not be trusted to bear his weight without his cane or umbrella so he walked gingerly. She remembered the first time she saw him more than a year ago.
She found him attractive, although a little to the short side. He was clean-shaven with a cleft in his chin. He was not handsome, but had a nice face, pleasant to look at but one you would never remember in a line up. He blended with the wallpaper in his non-descript presence. He was soft spoken and polite; nothing about him was offensive or blatant. In fact, he was just an average person in a nice suit and imported handmade shoes. He reminded her of her half brother, Joe.
Victoria met Joe when her father remarried after her mother’s death from breast cancer. She was eight. Moreover, Victoria was crushed from the devastating loss of her mother. Joe was six years older than Victoria and suffered from juvenile muscular dystrophy. He was angry and resentful with his condition as it continued to degenerate throughout Victoria’s formative years and before she left for college. He died in his late twenties shortly after she graduated from Wharton. He lingered longer than expected with this aggressive progression. Because he stole her childhood, she did not mourn his death. She hated him and the fascination he engendered in her for men unable to fully develop into their potential. She thought of them as little caterpillars, their growth and development arrested for some reason.
He molested her the first time as she slept. When she woke with a start, he explained she was crying out in her sleep and he only tried to comfort what he thought was her nightmare. That was her introduction to sex, men, control, and her own curiosity with challenged men—men that for whatever reason, either physically. or mentally, were stinted in their growth into manhood. For years, she had been adding to her collection of broken men. She added Oliver last year.
She thought him perfect for her collection and Oliver turned out to be one of her best acquisitions. He was shy and difficult at first but then eager, willing, easily introduced to the dark influences that formed her appetites. Admittedly, Victoria spent the most time with Oliver’s education and cultivation. It proved worth the investment of her time—he was an excellent student. She almost loved him. She did love what he meant to her.
It was her pleasure to give the men bliss but at her pace and liking. She allowed them to participate on a periphery level, if that was possible… Initially, she allowed them to select the two items that they might want to use during a physical encounter with her. They did not know how or with whom, these items would be used, but they knew they would be applied somehow. Many of her conquests had no idea what the items were in her treasure trove of delight or how they were going to be used and by whom. Nevertheless, they were willing to do, say, eat or comply with any request Victoria might make to find out. Their excitement was generally almost childish but soon they were stripped of that wide-eyed innocence.
To be amongst the chosen in Victoria’s life, one had to be willing to risk everything, risk it all to the bones of humiliation. It was essential that a rebirth take place and a bond of trust created allowing a climate of calm acquiescence to seep into their pores and claim their fears and inhibitions. Victoria’s charges are not to think for themselves, nor eat or drink when they want. They life and satisfactions come from Victoria and Victoria alone. Their very existence relies in total upon Victoria’s every desire and whim—however, Victoria takes the development of her charges very seriously because she knows their life depends upon her success.
They must come to realize that every need or desire they have must be met by Victoria. In addition, they will come to believe that their own hearts beat because of her and their lungs fill with air because she wills it so. If they eat, it is because she provides them food and if they drink, it is because she provides them water. They will give themselves over to her willingly with no promises or guarantees of anything, including safety. And there is something specific for that.
There is always the safe word.
Only once in her life has any of her protégés ever used the safe word, so eager were they to please her and experience everything about her. When she took them in whole, devoured their manhood, stripped them of their defenses, rattled their confidence, and flattened their attitude, that is when they are at their most vulnerable. That is when Victoria loved them—when they loved her as children, needing everything about her. That is when she nurtured them, building a cocoon of love and security around them. They could do whatever they wanted, try anything that they desired, as long as they asked permission and acted appropriately.
That is when Victoria flourished. She had control over her body, the bodies of the crippled men she chose to nurture and change. It is safe to say, that is when Victoria took control of her childhood, the childhood that betrayed her at her most vulnerable.
That is when the bonds of trust created the freedom of butterflies to emerge safely from their self-imposed cocoons and to soar. And soar she did, too, as much as did the men she loved and sculpted.
And it is here at the window, a mere year ago, that she spotted Oliver shuffling home from the bus stop, head hung low, children surrounding him and bullying him mercilessly. It was then that Victoria took about meeting him. She knew she could help him.
And, in the end, he could help her.
Muffy, author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family “princess,” indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and ‘came of age’ in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books, writing and education. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy dabbles in real estate, writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
Find more of Muffy on her , , or sign up to her [+ Newsletter Mailing List+].
In Need of Therapy © 2015 by Abi Aiken & Rozlyn Sparks
Prequel to Billionaire Dominance series
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.
I sat on the pleather couch, one leg crossed over the other, making sure my skirt rode high enough to command the attention of any man with a pulse. And as always, Dr Jardine seemed utterly immune to me and all my physical charms.
“Make yourself comfortable, Christina.”
How could anyone pretend to derive comfort from his furniture? “If I must, Mason.”
He moved only his eyes, piercing me through those thin-framed glasses I swore he only wore for show. Big time psychiatrist. Needs to make sure people know he’s smart. His message was clear, only through repetition. I sighed with all the show I could muster and laid myself down on his lumpy, horrible couch. “Doctor Jardine.”
The scratching of his pen on paper was ridiculously annoying. It told me I was not his highest priority, yet given the tens of thousands of dollars I’d pumped into his practice over the past year I should have been a goddess to him.
Then it suddenly hit me. A year. It wasn’t quite a whole year since Jardine took me on as a client—patient, really—but we were only a week away from it. I fumbled in my candy-red Hermes clutch for a cigarette.
“Christina.” He cleared his throat for effect. “You know my policy.”
I glanced over. He hadn’t even raised his eyes from the stinking desk. How the hell did he know what I was doing? Arrogant prick.
“And you know my policy, Mason.”
“Yes, I do.” He stood, all lithe purpose and strength held in check. “Fuck everyone. That’s it, right?”
I nodded at him and withdrew my hand from the clutch. Empty. “In a nutshell. Metaphorically and literally, right?” I knew my reputation around town. Hell, I’d paid good money to spread some of the rumors myself. And sure, I’d fucked a lot of guys on my way to the top, but only some of them were strategic. Most of them were just punctuation marks. And lousy ones at that.
But being born female had not set me up particularly well for global domination, and I’d always been prepared to do what it took to succeed. If that meant letting men think I was a slut, then so be it. Every meeting I ever attended had been jam packed with swinging dicks. Letting them think my pussy might be included in any business deal simply meant most of the blood rushed away from their brains. It was base, and juvenile, but holy fuck was it effective.
“Well, Mason? Are we going to start sometime this week?”
I sat up and tried to bore through his skull with only my eyes. “Patience is for the little people. The toilers, the cleaners, the has-beens and the never-weres. In other words, Mason, patience is for you. But for me, time is money, and I do not pay your exorbitant fees just to get a spine maladjustment from this piece of shit you call a couch. Got it?”
His voice had turned so sharp and cold it felt almost like a blade in the chest. Or maybe that was my anxiety again. The whole reason I was stuck in this stupid office twice a week. Yet in nearly a year the pain hadn’t lessened. If Jardine couldn’t fix this… I didn’t want to think of that. Others had already failed before I’d found him, and I’d be damned if I had to start over again with the whole dog-and-pony show of rehashing my rise up the corporate ladder. Results. That was what I needed and what was sadly lacking.
“Oh, the big man has a big voice, huh?” God, needling Mason was so much fun. It was almost as good as sex. In fact, given the quality of sex I’d been getting lately, this was actually better. Mason was handsome, despite his clipped tones and off-the-rack clothing. Just then he’d shown me a little of the steel in his spine and frankly, it gave me a tingle. Right between the legs.
“My size, and my voice, are irrelevant, Christina. And you should probably check that line of thought before you take it any further.”
“What? What ‘line of thought’?” Damn him and his ability to read me like a porn mag. I’d long known my own tell-tale signs of arousal. They weren’t particularly unique to me, after all. Flushed cheeks, lip-licking. The usual suspects. But I was used to sending boys packing before they learned how to read me. Mason had had his fingers deep in my psyche now for almost a year. Of course he could see my thoughts as if they were his own.
“Christina. Please lie back and get as comfortable as you can. Do not comment on the quality of the furniture. It suits my other patients just fine.”
“Huh. Of course it does. They’re plebs, unaccustomed to the finer things in life.”
Dr Jardine walked over and sat in his chair beside me. I caught the scent of fresh linen from his shirt, and saw his surprisingly shiny black Cole Haan oxfords out of the corner of my eye as he crossed one leg over the other.
“Christina, why do you still fight me every single inch of the way?”
“Mason, you’re the shrink. You tell me.”
“Exactly the answer I expected.” He stood and walked back to his desk. “You disappoint me.”
“Oh, well, that’s such a blow to my fragile ego, Masey-wasey. It really hits me right in the I-don’t-give-a-fucks.”
He sat heavily, my spray of half-hearted abuse appearing to hit wide of the mark. “I mean it, Christina. You employ me to help you, yet you do all you can to make the entire process painful.”
“Ah, well. No pain, no gain. Isn’t that how it goes?”
He stilled at that comment, then looked up from the paper on his desk. He fired his crystal blue eyes at me full strength and for a moment I felt my knees crumbling.
“Interesting choice of words. Enlighten me. On a scale from one-to-ten, how is the chest pain this week?”
I seethed silently for a moment. As usual, he resorted to reminding me why I needed him, just when I was starting to have so much fun making him feel inept. “Better today, no thanks to you.”
I arched my back in a manufactured stretch. Teasing boys had always been my greatest skill. “Yes. I was at a full blown ten yesterday, until I had a bit of recreational therapy.”
He paused with his pen just above the notebook. “And of course, we’re not talking yoga and a massage.”
“There was stretching, and various positions. And I suppose you could call some of it massage.” I knew my confession would have no effect on him, but it was my fall back position. A hide-in-plain-sight kind of move.
“None of which truly answers my original question.”
“Fine. Today, I’d rate it a six. Thanks to last night’s eight.” I held my hands apart to mime inches. No point making a joke if it was too obscure. And it was definitely a joke, just like my therapeutic partner’s cock. Only way he’d make eight inches was if he put it in twice. I’d officially scraped the bottom of the barrel in this town. “Nothing takes stress away like a good orgasm, as you’d know. Or would you?”
Dr. Jardine sighed. He put his pen to his lips and stared at me as if contemplating something. Maybe getting all male, and wondering if his was the magic wand to soothe my savage cunt. I could do worse—and had, plenty of times—but he was definitely not my type. Too stiff, but not in the way I needed him to be. He probably only ever did it missionary with the lights off.
His vast supply of silence worked as it always did, pulling my words from within me. “Well, go on. Say it.” Judgey McJudgerson. Who the fuck was he anyway?
Pen scratched paper again, and it was like fingernails on a blackboard.
“Tell me about your session, Christina.”
For once, and I’d never admit it out loud, he shocked me. Jardine had never before asked for a play by play. “Making a deposit in your spank bank, Doc?”
He didn’t take the bait. When he responded there was no hint of annoyance. In fact, he smiled. “You let sex be the answer to everything. Even when there’s no question asked. Normally you’re dismissive of your liaisons, but this time you offered unsolicited details. So if you would, please explain how you brought your chest pains under control with nothing but a single orgasm.” He held the end of his pen just above the paper and raised his eyebrows. “It was just the one?”
Well. Maybe doctor vanilla had a little pepper in him after all. If he wanted a play-by-play… why not? I sat up and adjusted my blouse, making sure my breasts were the focus beneath the thin silk. “He was Latin. Caramel skin…”
“The man doesn’t matter. Only the acts.”
“I was setting the scene. Of course, just like a man, you only want the highlights.” In case that little jab had set him off-balance, I tried a left hook. “Or maybe you’re scared you’ll get hot under the collar?”
“We have only minutes remaining, Christina. You would be well-advised to hurry. Or maybe we’ve finally broken through to your long-lost inhibitions?”
“Prick. When did you last see your libido?” Still he sat, unmoved and unmoving. “Fine, if you’re so desperate, he had me over his knee, spanking me like a naughty little girl.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Congratulations.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Quite the contrary. For the first time, you’ve managed to surprise me. Please. Go on.”
“None of this leaves this office. If you even think of telling–”
“Christina. Do not think to lecture me over standard practice. Clearly we have reached a point you’re unwilling to discuss.”
“You actually think I’m scared, don’t you? All right, you asked for it. I had him meet me when I arrived home, and gave him permission to be in charge.”
I could have sworn there was a flash in his eyes, though he didn’t look surprised at all. “You gave control willingly to one of your… escorts?” He scribbled away busily with who knows what manner of nonsense but the crook of his mouth told me he was more amused than a doctor should be about my revelation.
For some reason his amusement stung much more than disdain would have. “Well why the fuck not? You know, it isn’t easy being queen of the fucking world.”
“And have you done this before?”
“Of course not.”
“Continue then. What were his orders?”
He’d been disappointingly obvious, but I still didn’t want to tell Jardine everything. “He told me to strip, so I did. It was the perfect excuse to show off the matching red lace Coucou lingerie set. Good underwear deserved to be admired, after all.”
“Ah.” He nodded and put down his pen.
“So it was nothing new after all. Merely more of the quintessential Christina Pocock, chewing the scenery.”
“You know nothing about it.”
“I know all about you, though. Tell me, did you ever, even once, feel uncomfortable?”
“If I’d been uncomfortable, then I wouldn’t have come. What kind of therapy would that be?”
He shook his head again. “As always, you gloss over the heart of the matter, Christina.”
I began to protest but he held up his hand, and to my own surprise I actually stopped.
“You claimed he spanked you. Even then, you felt no discomfort? Did he use a paddle?”
What the hell? As if Dr Dickweed would have the slightest clue about anything sexual, other than me regaling him with my many and varied exploits.
“A paddle? No. Just his big, strong hands, all over my ass.”
If only that were true. About Luiz’s hands. About the entire scene. I could scarcely believe I was lying to Mason about it. The two things I’d always been great at were business and sex. Everyone knew about the business. I needed him to believe it still about the sex.
But the truth was, it had been a pitiful experience. Sure, Luiz had me over his knee. But his touch had been soft and deferential, and every thirty fucking seconds he’d checked everything was okay. How was a girl supposed to come under those conditions? I wasn’t one to hand over authority lightly, even when it was just pretend. The least that pretty boy could have done was to treat the moment with respect.
“You surprise me, Christina.”
“In what way?”
He took a moment to scratch another damn note in his stupid book before he looked up again. “Firstly that you would defer to anyone for even a moment, no matter the circumstances. Secondly, that you would lie to me so obviously about it.”
“Yeah, and thirdly that I even bothered to dangle that juicy tidbit in front of a man as vanilla as you, Mason.”
“Ah, you’re always the entertainer, Christina.” He slid his glasses off his face and put his pen down. For some reason it felt almost as though he’d slapped me with a gauntlet. “But I’m afraid I’ve seen this movie so many times it’s become tedious.”
“Ha. That’s rich. Being called boring by a chunk of wood like you.” The tightness in my chest threatened to steal my voice from me, and I closed my eyes for a moment.
I counted backwards from ten to one, and when I opened my eyes again, Mason was on his haunches right before me.
God, his voice had taken on some actual warmth. I struggled to remember a time he’d ever sounded anything but crisp and cool. And it made me wonder about his cucumber.
“What is it now?”
“The show is over. At least for today. I strongly recommend you employ one of my relaxation exercises before you return to the office. I would advise you to go home instead but I know better than that.”
“Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, Mason.”
He stood and returned to his chair. “Same time next week, Christina.”
“Unless I get a better offer, sure.”
“Your humor is as forced as your rebellion has become. You cannot fool me. I’ve seen you without the stage make up.” Once again, he scribbled something petty and aggravating in his notebook. “Next week.”
“Blah blah blah.”
“Christina, be prepared. I’ve tried things the easy way. Next week we embark on the hard way.”
“Hard? The only thing hard about you, Mason, is the stick up your ass.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by his calm demeanor in the face of my bitchiness. I’d never once managed to break through to him. Not with insults, or with demands. His self-control fascinated me. He was the one man in my life I couldn’t whip with money or pussy.
“Don’t let me keep you, Christina. Your audience awaits.”
Abi Aiken is a youngish latte-swilling movie-lover with fewer secrets than you might think. As an only child, she found the best way to have conversations (and win arguments) was to play all the parts herself. So she wrote her first story at the age of 12 and it felt so much like coming home that she never left. She believes most of her problems can be solved by Midori and lemonade.
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Rozlyn Sparks is a thirty-something lady who’s been around the block a time or two. A Sin City native, she believes what happens in Vegas is fantastic inspiration for fiction! She knows the best stories are the ones that need to be shared. Give her a pen, some paper, and a Redbull and Vodka and she’ll spin tales that will have you begging for more.
Email her directly at or find her on
The simple command had Jeanette reacting quickly, instinctively.
She met Sebastian’s eyes directly, daringly, watching his features as he gazed longingly at her while she slowly slipped the lace panties over her hips, down her thighs, slipping them from one high-heeled foot at a time. She stood, waiting for his command.
“Come here,” he breathed quietly, a single finger cocked in gesture.
Jeanette dropped to the bed, kneeling in front of him, letting out a hushed moan as his fingers touched her hair gently, fleetingly, and began to trail a path from her cheek, over her puckered nipples, down to her moist center. His touch electric, little jolts of pleasure arced up her body wherever he made contact with her skin.
Jeanette bent over his exposed hips, flicked her moist tongue over her parted her lips, and enveloped him in her mouth, tasting the salty evidence of his excitement. She placed her hand on the root of his shaft and heard him moan softly.
She moved her mouth up and down his cock with unveiled enthusiasm, shyly watching through her lashes as Sebastian tossed back his dark head, arched his back, and groaned low in his throat. She anticipated the moment he would swell within her mouth and she’d know he was close.
She moved her other hand to cup his balls, pulling them down and slowing the pressure building inside, lightly stroking the underside near his ass with her knuckle, thrilling at the long, deep moan that escaped his lips.
Sebastian’s gaze traveled to meet hers and she noticed the lust-filled haze within the depths of the chocolate brown orbs. The intensity of his stare made her blush, but still she watched him: waiting. Jeanette bobbed her head faster, moving one hand up and down his length in time with her mouth.
His breathing became more agitated. His eyes began to close, and he brought his hands to the sides of her face.
“Jeanette, enough.” He pulled back, withdrew himself from her mouth.
She felt an inexplicable loss all the way to her core. “Sir, I…did I do something wrong?”
“No, Jeanette. Not at all. Tonight is simply going to be a little different is all.” Sebastian smiled down at her, trailed his fingers over her flush-warmed cheek.
Jeanette’s heart soared with the knowledge he was pleased with her. Curious, though, her thoughts raced through her mind trying to determine what he meant by different. They’d been together this way for months prior to his recent few week absence, ever since he’d started working at Majors Creek, and she couldn’t imagine what may have changed between them to make him decide tonight should be any different.
Thrilled when Jason’s new guest, Kathryn Caruthers, had decided she wanted to make a meal, thus giving Jeanette a very much appreciated night off, she had taken advantage of the free time to go into town to pick up a few things needed at home. She ran into Sebastian at the Tool & Tack shop along the way. She hadn’t even known he’d returned, and despite a twinge of pain making it’s way through her heart, she’d approached him as if she’d seen him only yesterday.
When Sebastian realized she’d had an actual entire evening to herself, his eyes lit up in unveiled excitement and he’d invited her for dinner at the local restaurant, a mom and pop run place called The Chandler Inn. She’d happily accepted after not seeing him in the last few weeks.
Unexpectedly, when they’d finished the delicious home style meal of medium rare steak, baked potatoes, and freshly cut green beans, he’d picked up a key for one of the rooms in the Inn. Lightly grasping her by the hand, he’s pulled her out the door and across the parking lot to the small, two storey hotel.
Jeanette gasped as Sebastian reached down and, cupping her chin, guided her to stand. She wasn’t used to this from him. The change in his behavior made her nervous as he pushed her down to recline on her back and pulled her to the very edge of the bed. For a long moment he waited, his breath coming fast and heavy.
Slowly, attentively, he spread her legs apart, kneeling down to kiss her thighs, stroking the edge of his tongue across her skin, his face rapturous as he lowered himself closer to her sex. She could feel his breath trailing across her silky folds, hear him inhaling the sweet smell of her.
He lifted his gaze to Jeanette’s face, leaned forward, and without touching it, blew gently on her clit.
She gasped, arching her back at the shock of electricity through her core.
Sebastian moved the tip of his tongue up and down her moist folds tasting her excitement as she bucked her hips in response. Without warning, he drove his tongue inside her, pressing his face hard into her body. Jeanette jolted, letting out a loud moan as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her body toward him, savagely stabbing her again and again with his tongue.
He withdrew and held his mouth over her clit, waiting, his striking dark caramel-colored gaze watching her face closely, looking for what exactly, she didn’t know. A reaction she hadn’t offered? Did she screw up and miss something he’d expected of her?
Sebastian had avoided touching her most sensitive part, so when his tongue finally made contact with her aching clit, Jeanette felt herself convulse, arching backward as her channel clamped down on air, her body willing some intrusion to seize itself upon.
Jolts of pleasure shook through her body as he flicked his tongue up and down her clitoris, gently sucking the swollen nub as he softly caressed her inner labia with his fingertips. He enveloped her with his mouth, using his lips, stroking her with his tongue, moaning loudly, his enjoyment of her sex becoming very evident as she felt his voice vibrate against her body. His fingers trailed up and down her slit, feeling her wetness. Carefully, gauging her reaction, he expertly pressed two fingers slowly inside her.
Jeanette felt as if the room had begun to spin. She closed her eyes in an attempt to ward off the virtual rotation but it didn’t help. She was suddenly acutely aware of everything. His warm mouth surrounding her sex. His hot breath against her flesh. His soft, heated lips stroking her in time with his tongue.
His tongue. She was intensely aware of his tongue: how it felt, how it moved, the texture of it as he swirled it around her clit. His fingers moved faster inside her.
“Come for me.” Sebastian’s deep, gravelly voice vibrated against her, only adding to her sensitivity.
Jeanette began to feel the familiar tremors building up inside her. She struggled to control the flooding response at her core as her senses reeled.
He stood and moved up between her legs, placing his cock at her swollen, waiting entrance. She felt his manhood pulsing against her. For a few moments he just held it there, twitching, leaking beads of his excitement.
Sebastian groaned deep in his chest and rubbed himself up and down her slit, gently moving the tip across her eager clit. Jeanette felt a shock of intense pleasure, her body opening to him.
He fixed his gaze on her face, then slowly, deliberately, penetrated her until just the head of his cock was inside of her.
Jeanette’s muscles contracted and pulsated around him.
He moaned and pulled himself out with the same unhurried pace.
Her body registered the sense of loss immediately, and she moaned in agitation, wanting desperately for him to fill her. “Please,” she begged, her eyes imploring him to continue.
He pushed his cock back into her warmth, withdrawing repeatedly, moving inside her inch by inch until he was halfway in, surrounded by her warm engorged flesh. He withdrew his hardness again at the same achingly slow rate.
Sebastian started pumping her faster, still never putting his full length into her. He licked his fingertips and moved them to her clit, stroking it. Waves of pleasure rose from somewhere deep inside Jeanette’s being, threatening to engulf her.
“Uh, Sebastian…sir, you feel so good. Please.”
He started thrusting into her, faster and deeper. His fingers sliding up and down her clit.
Jeanette felt the sensations rising up inside of her, the tremors within the walls of her sex getting stronger; starting to consume her. His gaze held hers captive: mesmerizing, imploring. She couldn’t look away.
“Come for me. Please,” Sebastian panted out.
“I…I can’t. I want to…” Jeanette bucked against his hips, her back arching.
He pounded into her furiously. His hand at her clit continued to move faster and faster. He pushed himself into her fully, his cock completely surrounded by her twitching, aching flesh.
His face contorted in pain, his eyes grew moist and he leaned forward, moving to cover her body with his. His mouth urgently sought hers, but still he kept his vibrant shadowy russet eyes locked onto hers. His hands were at her hips, pulling her up and into his savage thrusts.
“I love you.” He moaned against her lips.
Jeanette felt something at the center of her being tremble and then give way. Her world felt like it suddenly exploded. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. He really loved her? Everything she’d been holding back, the feeling of losing him, thinking he didn’t care, rushed forth in a flood of raw emotion and pure pleasure.
They came together. Her body convulsing wildly as wave after wave of sexual bliss pulsed through her. Feral screams reverberated in the room. He thrashed against her as he felt her muscles contract around him uncontrollably, electric surges of pleasure shooting out from somewhere in the center of her being.
As her orgasmic spasms died down, she realized the wild screams had been issued from her own throat.
They sprawled side by side, exhausted. Their chests heaved up and down together, breathing in sync. Sebastian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her swollen lips softly and told her again how much he loved her. His words were soothing in her ear.
Jeanette snuggled into his warmth, lulled by the tone of his voice telling her how much he’d missed her, them, the sweet syllables echoing gently in her heart. The last thing she was aware of before drifting off into oblivion was his dark hair falling softly across his coarse cheeks, the steady beating of his heart, and his face pressed against her own.
She fell into a deep sleep with his lips against her neck and the sound of him inhaling the scent of her skin. Finally content.
Gina Kincade has been writing erotic paranormal romance books and erotic short stories since she was seventeen years old.
She writes everything from M/F, M/M, Ménage, BDSM and fetish, to evil little vampires and were-creatures who will rip out your heart without thinking twice and then engage in steamy, explicit sex scenes.
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Kiki Howell has had over fifty stories published with three novels hitting Amazon Bestsellers lists in categories like Paranormal, Suspense, Occult Horror and Witch & Wizard Thrillers. She’s won awards like being chosen as an Ohioana Book Festival author along with having several shorts win writing contests.
Find more of Kiki on or sign up for her
After a hot night of performing with rope before a packed audience, Sherilynn and Anuhara return to their hotel suite for a steamy night of their own. Indelible is a kinky lesbian romance that follows The Invitation, an interracial lesbian erotic bondage romance written by Jacintha Topaz.
“You are so beautiful,” Sherilynn whispered when she stepped out of the bathroom and approached the double bed where Anuhara lay naked in a spooning position.
“Until you’re naked, you’re not allowed to join me,” Anuhara boldly stated with one hand draped over her hip and the other hand propping her head up on bent arm. She looked positively ravishing in the pose, almost enough to derail her plans for the evening.
“Oh, sweets, that’s not how it works,” Sherilynn said with a little smile and shake of the head. Still clothed in a dark collar short-sleeve shirt and denim jeans, she casually sat in one of the armchairs available in the hotel suite. She draped her arms over the armrests, relaxed and counted to five to settle her beating heart and also to watch for any telltale signs of submission from Anuhara. She paused as long as she dared, then smiled and stated, “I call the shots.”
“Really? Then I’ve got full dibs to this bed for the rest of the night,” Anuhara pouted.
“I thought double beds are way too big for one person,” Sherilynn said, quoting her from the night before. Her smile deepened, knowingly.
“Tough luck,” Anuhara muttered, rolling away and under the sheets. She slipped the duvet over those luscious waves of black hair and tucked herself to bed, effectively giving her the cold shoulder.
Sherilynn rose to her feet then and sat on the bed, fully expecting Anuhara to tell her to scoot off. When a grudging silence ensued, Sherilynn said, “I find nothing wrong with saying, ‘Fuck me. Now. Please, Mistress S. Please fuck me.’”
Anuhara groaned into a pillow. “Please do not remind me of what happened at rehearsal today. That was so unlike me and my typical self to demand sexual favors so directly. You caught me at way too horny a moment.”
Sherilynn leaned over Anuhara’s hair and inhaled deeply. She loved the fruity scent. She couldn’t wait to taste her, make her writhe in pleasure, and watch her fly apart.
Sherilynn waited. She’d seen Anuhara’s submissive side before. She’d like to see it again.
Anuhara sighed and finally turned to face her. “What?”
“You know what gets me hot?”
“And you,” Sherilynn added.
“Begging, pleading, beside your mind, needing me to fuck you as I please.”
Anuhara’s heated gaze mirrored hers perfectly. By the telltale lifting of that ample chest, Sherilynn could tell Anuhara’s breath had quickened.
“Are we speaking the same language?” Sherilynn asked softly.
“Holy Mother…” Anuhara whispered.
“Good. You’re getting the picture.” Sherilynn grinned and got off the bed to retrieve the rope from her toy bag. The red had looked good on Anuhara at the show. The chemistry between her and Anuhara onstage, between Ginny and Jackie at the other end of the platform, and the synergy among all four of them built to a crescendo that the audience echoed. Back and forth the energy cycled, replenished and amplified. Living the moment again made her skin tingle anew.
Fuck. They hadn’t had such a good show in a long time. Everyone felt it. The team, their vendors, their audience—everyone who was anyone had sensed it. Their work was solid. Despite how hopeless the situation had looked less than forty eight hours ago, Sherilynn had a good feeling about the rest of the tour.
Best of all, the missing piece had fallen neatly into place. Into her bed. Actually, not quite her bed but the hotel bed right beside her. Not bad at all.
Sherilynn found the rope she’d been looking for and returned to the bed. Excitement laced her veins, upped the anti on her expectations for the evening. They’d gone over limits before rehearsal. However, most of what she’d done up until now was decorative. She’d only restrained Anuhara’s wrists on stage. She hadn’t ventured beyond that yet.
“I’d like to tie up your legs tonight, Anuhara,” Sherilynn began slowly. “You’re a fine dancer. I know you might feel vulnerable with your mobility limited. It would mean a lot to me if I can do that for you, tie you up there and make you feel good. Will you let me?”
“You know that you’re really good at that,” Anuhara said smokily.
“Rope. You’re going to make me orgasm someday just by seeing rope in your hands.”
Sherilynn grinned. “Hey, I like the sound of that.”
“So that means I shouldn’t let you tie me up at all then,” Anuhara said glumly.
All mirth disappeared from Sherilynn’s face. “Scared?”
Anuhara shook her head and sighed. “Is this how I’m going to get you every time? Rope and you? Which means, that’s the only way you want me, too, right? Me, with rope? Every time? I’m just some third wheel here, aren’t I?”
Sherilynn held her tongue and pondered the slew of questions. If she answered too soon, she’d be on the defensive. Easy, now. This girl wasn’t attacking her. No, Anuhara was feeling insecure. “For me, rope is about connection, an intimate bond. Take it away and there are only two people—free-falling through space, without anything to hold them together. No gravity. Nothing. Just space. Infinite, vast, and vacuous space. In a very big fucking universe. Rope is …”
Sherilynn eyed Anuhara, searching for the right word. Drawing from their past discussions for a bridge into Anuhara’s world, intuition kicked in. Sherilynn found the word.
“… breath,” she finished. “Rope is breath to me.”
Anuhara nodded. “I can relate. Dance is breath to me. And you’re asking that I give up dance, my kind of breath, for a moment to experience your kind of breath, yeah?”
“Yes,” Sherilynn said. In some ways, this conversation was even scarier than the previous ones. At least in the past they’d fucked to meet basic needs. Tonight, they’d already met those needs. They’d gone beyond survival.
“Only difference is that you’re not tying me up for a show anymore, not right now. You’re asking me to do this intimately. For who knows how many times.”
“Is that the only way I’d get any tonight?” Anuhara asked after a moment’s pause.
Sherilynn nodded. She didn’t understand the hesitation. Anuhara seemed all for the rope at first. Sensing more to Anuhara’s question, she waited with bated breath.
“Is this what you want every time?” Anuhara asked quietly.
The question had the same gravity as the questions Anuhara had first asked before full consent to go on tour.
“Easy,” Sherilynn soothed. “This isn’t marriage. We’re only talking about tonight. One step at a time.”
Anuhara shook her head. “No. Once you get those ropes on me, I’d be influenced. Drunk. Or whatever. I won’t be in my right mind. I need to know if this is the only way I’d get to experience you, to have you.”
Sherilynn took a deep breath. “Sweets, you have me. You’ve had me from first sight. I can’t imagine anyone else in my ropes. The ropes add so much pleasure for me, to know that you trust me enough to restrain you, to know that your orgasm is at my mercy, to feel our bond, our energy, vibing off each other, you don’t know how much all that means to me. Besides, I like you when you’re soft. In my ropes. You’re pure expression then. Unadulterated passion. It takes my breath away. Every time.”
“Okay,” Anuhara said with greater ease. “We’ve been humping before. You know from my medical release forms that I’m clean. How about you?”
“I have mine. I can get them.” Sherilynn didn’t wait for a response. She got to her feet and retrieved her phone to draw up the necessary email. Once she had the screen active, she showed the forms to Anuhara, who glanced at it and scrolled through the results. “Good?”
Anuhara exhaled in relief and nodded before handing the phone back to her.
“Anything else you need from me before I get you drunk?” Sherilynn joked, drawing on Anuhara’s earlier comment about her ropes.
Her humor landed, because Anuhara shook her head and chuckled. “Go. Do your worst.”
After putting her cell phone away, Sherilynn looked thoughtfully at her.
“How do you want me?” Anuhara asked to break the silence.
“You’re fine just the way you are, sweets. I’m terribly distracted with my choices right now. I want to taste you, fuck you with my fingers, pummel into you with a strap-on, get you bucking with my vibrator, fuck every hole ten ways to Sunday. Positions, positions, that is the question.”
Holy Mother of Guam.
Anuhara’s belly more than warmed at the menu of delights ahead. Her lips quirked at Sherilynn’s dilemma. “The easy part is done. I’m already naked.”
“How do you feel about having no sight?”
Her breath hitched. “Like what Jackie did to Ginny onstage tonight?”
“I’d like to try that. I’m not sure if I’m up for that tonight though.”
“Why don’t you tell me a word, a short word, that you will say when you want sight?”
“Can I use the word sight? That’s obvious, right?”
Sherilynn nodded. “Yes. That’ll do. Sit up so I can do that then.”
Anuhara got up and sat cross-legged on the bed.
“Close your eyes.”
As soon as she shut her eyes, her focus turned inward. She reconnected with her breath, filled her belly and began to do the seven-count breathing technique her friend from Hawai’i had taught her.
Sherilynn used the rope like a brush, dowsed her with several paths of blazing sensation from head to ear to shoulder to bosom to belly to face. There, she wound the rope over her eyes for several passes before securing it at the back of her head.
“You’ve got such beautiful hair,” Sherilynn said as she combed it aside. “Thick. Dark. Wavy. Wild.”
Anuhara let the words slide down her skin like silk. Bathing in the embrace of rope and woman, she breathed it all in and her shoulders sank deeper into the spell.
Sherilynn’s hand trailed to her chest, her lips grazed her neck. A length of rope stretched from her neck, taut over her chest, to the opposite rib cage.
“Feel that?” Sherilynn murmured.
“I want every piece of you marked by my rope one day, in all kinds of patterns.”
Anuhara’s breath quickened. “Do it, then. Start now.”
“Impatient, aren’t we? Tonight, sweets, I want to feel your body against mine. As bare as possible. Nothing between us. Lay down.”
Anuhara settled back into the bed. Once she connected with the pillow, she was even more aware of the binding of her blindfold at the back of her head. That knob further reinforced her lack of sight, which made her eyes flutter underneath the hemp. Expectation spiked when she had no visual clue where Sherilynn was and what she planned to do. Despite her initial reservations, she found the blindfold utterly arousing.
Sherilynn dragged a length of hemp lightly over her chest and over to her left wrist. She wrapped it several times, thick enough to become some sort of wrist guard. Then she secured the rope and pulled her arm to the side of the bed to lay it flat at an angle above her head. Sherilynn did the same thing on the other side, allowing the rope to slither along her body before securing her remaining arm on the opposite side of the bed above her head.
Sherilynn blew out a whistle. “You should see yourself. You’re a waking wet dream, perfect masturbation material.” Her fingers snaked around Anuhara’s right ankle and slid up along her leg and tapped her inner thighs, which were stuck side by side hiding her obvious anticipation. “This won’t do, though. Wider now. I want access.”
Before she knew it, Sherilynn had more rope on her. She wrapped one ankle with several passes of hemp and secured her leg to its respective side of the bed. Then she did the same with her other ankle. She was bound, spread eagle. With a hot wet streak fast turning cold from exposure between her legs.
Unconsciously she pulled at her bonds. She didn’t recall the bed having any posts. How had Sherilynn gotten the restraints to hold?
“Not happening, sweets. You’re going nowhere.”
Anuhara stilled. And gulped. The bed dipped between her legs.
“You’re so hard already,” Sherilynn purred in approval and proceeded to graze her nipples, tease them, and have her hissing with pleasure. Her hands bunched up in reaction to the riot of sensation, spurred by Sherilynn’s unrelenting competence. Her low back arched off the bed. She writhed from head to toe, a mist of perspiration dotted her upper lip.
“So sensitive,” Sherilynn praised. “Perfect.”
Her head buzzed. Her knees weakened. Her tits were on fire. Her clit ached for contact. Plus, she had no free hand to help with her release. Perfect was the last word she’d use to describe her predicament.
Sherilynn strummed her raised buds, prompting Anuhara’s thigh reflexes to kick in for the squeeze. Instead, she met resistance. She strained against her bonds, bit back a curse and groaned.
“I can make love to you all night, Anuhara.” Sherilynn’s hoarse voice interrupted the litany of curses flooding her mind.
“No, you’re not,” Anuhara scoffed. “You’re playing me.”
“Exploring. Learning. Finding out what makes you slick.” Sherilynn’s expert fingers continued their siege at her tits while Sherilynn blew at her nether seepage.
Despite herself, Anuhara shivered in arousal and obsessed over where Storm Sherilynn would hit next and if she’d get relief any time soon.
“This is torture,” she squeaked in a voice that sounded hardly her own.
Sherilynn chuckled. “Exquisite, isn’t it? You can’t hide from me. I intend to claim every part of your body, sweets.”
Before she could screw her head on right to mouth a reply, Sherilynn moved one hand from nipple to belly and then sank two fingers in her and made quick work of her G-spot. Finally.
Sherilynn thumbed her clit, gave it a swirl, and continued to tease her nipple like some DJ at the turntable. Helplessly, Anuhara jerked in tune, in time with the rhythms.
She strained against her bonds, however useless the feat. She felt raw, exposed. Yet, she’d never been so turned on in her life. Her body ached in delicious tension. Her scalp grew tingly from pleasure zipping up and down along her spine. Her channel grew thick around Sherilynn’s scanty fingers.
“More,” she whimpered.
Sherilynn slipped in another finger. Knuckle deep.
“You’re so wet. I have half a mind to lube you up and put my whole hand in here.”
Just imagining the size of a whole hand up her vagina made Anuhara shiver. She’d heard of fisting before but had never tried it. “I want that.”
“Perfect.” Anuhara heard Sherilynn’s wicked grin. “We’ll table it for another night.”
The force at her G-spot increased, bringing Anuhara right back to the situation at hand. The circling at her clit tightened and heightened in speed. All the while, Sherilynn strummed her captive tit and suckled at the neglected one.
Never had she blissed out on such a rich buffet of delights. Nor had she ever been in a position of complete receptivity, bound and prevented from giving in kind. The force of her desire surprised her, shook her. Inevitable release called to her, threatened to flood her and take her away to foreign lands. The more she resisted her binds, the faster Sherilynn worked and the less Anuhara knew what gibberish came out of her mouth. She had half a mind to wonder if she’d even be conscious after the peak.
“Take it home, sweets. All of it.”
With one fell swoop, Storm Sherilynn thundered through the hills and valleys of her breasts, smothered her with suckles and kisses and teases, all the while plundering the depths of her pussy with a vengeance akin to the raw power inherent in the universe’s natural forces. She’d left no stone unturned, no mercy, no leeway, no corner to hide, no space for Anuhara to keep only for herself.
“Fuck!” she cursed.
Orgasm overtook her. Involuntarily Anuhara thrashed in her restraints. Her pussy convulsed, gripped at the satisfying girth. Back arched, hips bucked. In mindless oblivion she’d catapulted into outer space, danced with the twinkling stars, communed with the moon and the sun and the whirl of another galaxy. Seconds, minutes, milliseconds. She had no idea how much time passed before she came down from her high.
Vaguely she sensed Sherilynn at her side, releasing the bonds one at a time. The rope at her eyes finally lifted, one length unwrapping at a time. She could see, if she chose. Instead, she kept her eyes shut and relished the aftershocks rippling through her, here and again.
Sherilynn nestled beside her, pressed her full weight against her and pulled her in for a cuddle. The full-on contact of woman, warm, earthy, anchoring. The very thing that she needed at the moment to feel her body again.
When she regained her voice again, Anuhara said, “I thought that there was more to that menu.”
“All the ways you wanted to fuck me.” She held on to a shred of hope that fisting remained on that agenda.
“Oh, believe me, sweets. In time. You’re not getting away with only one orgasm tonight. I think I can pull several more out of you before the night is over. I’ll fuck you until you’re totally exhausted and all you can do is sleep like the dead. Then you’ll wake up properly fucked, properly freshened up, and ready to rev through another day of travel and performances. How does that menu sound?”
Jacintha Topaz is the author of Purr Erotica Romance, devoted to F/F, M/M, LGBT, Menage and More BDSM, kink, bondage, fetish, spanking, domination, submission, hot, sexy, erotic romance reads. When not writing, she can be found indulging in cashews and kefir and her secret love of armchair gardening.
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Tamara looked out the passenger window as she listened to the men talk about their plans when they arrived in Wisconsin. She knew that it was important for her fiancée to find out more about his condition but she was afraid that the trip was leading them to a dead end and she was worried about how Declan would take that.
“Honey? Did you hear what I just said?” Declan’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she turned her attention away from the window and to the man driving.
“I’m sorry, my love, I guess my mind was wandering. What did you say?” Tamara tried to smile but only succeeded in giving a grimace.
Christian leaned forward between the two seats, “What’s wrong, toots? You’re not worrying about Poppy’s, are you?”
She shook her head, a real smile blooming on her lips on his assumption that her worry was over her life’s work, “No, of course not. Alexandra has everything well in hand over there. I actually believe we might make more this week due to her organizational skills than we have in the last six months.”
Declan pulled into a motel parking lot and turned off the car, turning to look at his fiancée, “If it’s not the restaurant then what are you worrying about?”
Tamara turned her smile to the man behind the wheel and placed her hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’m worried that we’re not going to find out much more than what we already know. That this might turn out to be some kind of fool’s errand.”
Christian and Declan exchanged a look before Declan responded, “When it comes to following a lead, my heart, there are no guarantees that it will turn up anything concrete. That’s one of the first things we learn in class. Right now I’d be happy to find out that there is more than just me out there. Yeah there’s so much more that I need to find out about myself and what it means to be a Were-Fossa, not to mention just how rare they really are in the supernatural world, but I’m okay if this turns out to be a dead end. Christian and I will just keep surfing those conspiracy theory sites and keep an eye out for any more sightings. Granted, we may not always be able to travel to the state or wherever that sighting may be but we can still check into it.”
Tamara nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, somehow feeling more reassured hearing him say that, “That’s great to hear, my love. I wasn’t sure how you would react if this turned out to be nothing.”
She looked out the front window to the motel office building, “How about we get signed into our room and get some rest? It’s been a really long drive and, while I don’t know about you, I’m wiped.”
The men looked at each other then back to her with knowing smiles on their faces, “I’m far from exhausted. What about you, Christian?”
Christian shook his head, “Nope, not in the least bit tired.”
Tamara looked from one man to the other and shook her head, “You two are incorrigible. I suppose I can dig down deep and find some energy for us to have a little fun before we rest.”
She leaned forward and gave Declan a passionate kiss before opening the car door and stepping out, “I’ll go sign us in and get the key. Why don’t you get the bags and meet me in front of the office?”
The men looked at each other once more and smiled, Christian answering when they returned their attention to the woman standing by the car, “Sure thing. Be there in a few.”
She closed the door behind her and made her way to the motel office.
The bell above the door rang as she pushed it open and the clerk looked up from whatever magazine he was reading to pass the time, “Can I help you?”
Tamara smiled as she approached the front desk, “I certainly hope so. You should have a registration for ‘Fairfax’.”
She leaned against the desk as she watched the clerk tap some keys on the keyboard of his computer, waiting for him to look up her fiancée’s name.
“Ah yes, here you are. Room 275. Just sign in here and I’ll go get you the key,” the clerk said as he pushed a clipboard her way.
Tamara pocked up the pen and signed her soon-to-be married name to the piece of paper in the next blank line and pushed the clipboard back toward the clerk.
He took the clipboard, gave it a glance and then set it back down, “Great. I’ll be right back with your key.”
She nodded, tapping her fingers impatiently on the desktop, her gaze roving around the office until it settled on the glass door she had just come through. Tamara saw her men standing just outside waiting for her, the bags resting on the ground at their feet. She smiled as she felt a wave of desire flow through her body as she looked at the Weres outside the glass door. Tamara wasn’t sure how it had happened in such a short amount of time but she had grown to love the idea of having both men all to herself. She knew it couldn’t last forever but she would enjoy it while it lasted.
The men waved to her through the door and watched as the clerk made his way to the desk from the back room, “Here you are, Miss. Enjoy your stay.”
She gave him a polite smile, “Thank you, I’m sure I will.”
Tamara took the key and headed out the door to meet her men, “I’ve got the key, fellas. Let’s go check out our room.”
She threaded her fingers through Declan’s and reached for Christian’s hand as they walked in the general direction of Room 275, “It’s on the second floor but at least we won’t have to worry about any prying eyes.”
The three of them took the stairs two at a time suddenly in a hurry to be inside their room.
Christian wrapped his arms around Tamara’s waist as soon as the door was closed behind them and pressed her against it with their bodies so close together that she could feel how happy he was to be there. She could see the heat in his eyes right before she closed her own as he claimed her mouth.
Declan cleared his throat from across the room as he set the bags he was carrying down by the end of the bed, “Save some for me, mate. I mean, I don’t mind watching but I enjoy so much more joining in on the fun with my girl.”
Christian stepped away from Tamara, laughing, his face glowing in his humor, “I’m sorry, buddy. I just can’t seem to keep my hands off of this tasty little morsel.”
He looked back at the woman in question the humor still shining in his eyes, battling with the heat that was still very visible, “Let’s get you out of those clothes and onto that bed.”
She moved away from the door, stripping her clothes as she made her way to the bed. Tamara looked over her should, relishing in the undivided attention of the powerful men standing in the room with her.
Crawling onto the bed, she gave an exaggerated shake of her ass, “Well? What are you boys waiting for, a written invitation?”
The men needed no further prodding as they rushed to strip their own clothes. Christian moved around to the right side of the bed and watched as his best friend moved around to the left side. Tamara stretched out on her right side, watching as the men surrounded her. Declan slid his naked body behind hers, pulling her close. Christian stretched out in front of her, his hand gliding its way along her hip causing her to squirm. Her squirming was causing a reaction in her fiancée, which she could feel between her ass cheeks as his cock grew harder. Grinning, Tamara reached out and grabbed Christian’s cock, stroking it until she felt the silken skin tighten. Declan kissed the back of her neck enticing a moan and causing her to grasp the cock in her hand tighter. Christian began to pump his hips, sliding his cock in and out of Tamara’s grip. Her head fell back as Christian leaned forward and took her right breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the nipple until it was a taunt peak. Moaning, Tamara snaked her right hand around Declan’s neck, bringing his head down until their lips met.
Declan broke the kiss, licking his way up her jawbone to her ear, whispering, “Do you know what DP is?”
When she shook her head, Christian whispered in her other ear, “DP means Double Penetration. Does that sound like something you might like to try?”
Tamara felt her body flush as the thought of both her men taking her at the same time, one cock in her ass and the other in her pussy, making her clit throb. Her breath caught when Declan licked a wet trail from the back of her neck to the top of her tailbone and Christian sucked on her left breast, nibbling on the nipple to make it stand at attention for him, Tamara moaned as she ran the fingers of her left hand through Christian’s hair and reached behind her with her right hand to grasp Declan’s cock, enjoying the feel of the soft skin covering the rigid muscle that would soon be pumping away inside of her ass. Moving her left hand down, she reached for Christian’s cock feeling how hard he was, stroking him slightly until she felt the precum ooze from the tip.
She rubbed her thumb over the small hole, making sure it was wet and shiny before removing her hand and placing the digit in her mouth, “Mmm, salty.”
That was all she was able to say before she felt her mate’s cock bumping the hole of her ass.
Declan pulled away, “Christian, you take her first. I want to lube up a little more so that I don’t hurt her when I take her from back here. This is the first time we’ve ever done anal and I don’t want it to be an unpleasant experience.”
Christian smiled at Tamara as he nodded, “I understand, buddy. But hurry.”
She smiled at Christian, then looked over her shoulder at her true love, “I second that thought. Hurry…”
The rest of her thought was lost as the man in front of her slowly slid his cock into her pussy. Her eyes rolled back as Christian slid in as deep as he could and stopped. He enjoyed the feel of Tamara’s pussy clenching around his erection, almost seeming to draw him in even further. She rolled her hips trying to get him to move, whimpering in frustration when he didn’t.
“Are you ready for me, my love?” Declan asked from behind her as he positioned his own cock at the opening of her ass, slowly pushing inside.
When she pushed back against him, taking his cock further inside, he smiled, “I suppose you are.”
All thoughts were pushed away as the three of them found a rhythm and lost themselves in the throes of the passion they were beginning to be consumed by.
Elvira Bathory is a succubus who preys on the strongest of men. In her 35 years on this Earth, she has seen some of the most carnal acts of passion committed by man, some she has caused herself.
Having spent so much time consuming the energy that came from other couples enjoying each other’s company, she decided that it was time for her to enjoy someone’s company on a more permanent basis.
Traveling the world, she chose to settle in a small town in the state known as New Mexico. Still in search of that perfect man, she spends her nights inventing him from her mind onto the pages of her steamy erotic stories.
Find Elvira on [+ Facebook+] and , or sign up for her [+ Newsletter+].
“My brother’s getting married.” Gigi stepped into the living room, slipping out of her high heels with a sigh of relief. “Can you believe that?”
“Ryder?” Leo looked up, his green eyes reflecting his surprise. “I didn’t know he was seeing someone.”
“He’s not.” She walked over and joined her husband on the couch, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s a marriage of convenience.”
“Really?” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Ryder as well? Is this something that runs in the family?”
Gigi punched him lightly on his arm. “Ours turned out pretty well, don’t you think?”
Leo pulled Gigi onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Well, I was crazy about you all along, so I’m not surprised.”
“You hid it well.” Her face scrunched into a frown. “I had no idea.”
He smiled at her, his eyes warm. “Who is the girl Ryder’s marrying? And why?”
“Her name’s Zoe,” Gigi responded. “Bianca Russo at City Council made a pass at Ryder, and he didn’t want to offend her by turning her down, so he asked Zoe to marry him instead.”
Leo blinked in confusion, then honed in on one sentence. “Bianca Russo made a pass at Ryder? But she’s married.”
“I guess she doesn’t take her vows very seriously,” Gigi said automatically, before rethinking her words. Bianca’s marriage wasn’t any of Gigi’s business. She’d seen enough in her life that she wouldn’t judge a stranger without knowing all the facts. “Never mind. That sounded catty. Maybe Bianca has an open marriage.”
“She doesn’t.” Leo’s voice was emphatic.
“How do you know? I didn’t know you knew her.”
There was a frown on Leo’s face. “I don’t. I know her husband.”
“You do? I didn’t know that. So, what gives with them?”
Leo shook his head. “Sorry, little rabbit, I’m not going to tell you. I’d be breaking a confidence.”
Gigi huffed, but she knew from experience that Leo wasn’t going to relent. In fact, though she might pretend to sulk, his trustworthiness was among his most attractive qualities. That, plus he was really, really hot. “If you aren’t going to give me the scoop,” she said, her voice husky, “what should we do instead?”
Leo’s gaze turned wicked, and at his look, Gigi’s insides flooded with heat. “Want to fool around?”
She ran her hands over his big, strong chest. “Always,” she said. “I always want to fool around with you.”
“Good girl.” His lips quirked into a smile. “There’s a package on our bed. Head upstairs, open it, and follow the instructions.”
“Ooh. Tell me more.”
“And spoil the surprise?” Leo shook his head. “You have five minutes to get ready, love. And if you aren’t, I’m going to spank that delectable ass of yours.”
A naughty grin covered her face. “In that case,” she sassed, “I think I’ll make sure I take ten minutes to get ready.”
On the other side of town, Ryder Drake poured himself a glass of wine and slid open the screen doors to step outside. It was just after five. The afternoon was lovely and warm, with a hint of a breeze from the lake. The normal hustle and bustle of the city was muted here – Ryder could hear the faint murmur of voices from his neighbor’s back patio, but enough distance separated the two houses to muffle the sound.
He’d proposed to a woman today. A beautiful, fascinating and complex woman. Zoe Robinson, who had been shingling her roof when he’d visited, though she was clearly terrified of heights. And he wasn’t sure if he’d been wise, or if he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
What he did know was that he was very attracted to her, and judging by the way she’d kissed him back at the party yesterday, she felt the same way. Yet she’d taken sex off the table for the duration of their six-month charade of a marriage.
Her reasons were sound, sensible. Ryder didn’t think he could share her bed for half a year without emotional consequences. Already, she’d occupied far too much space in his mind since that kiss last night.
His cock grew hard as he thought of Zoe in the green dress she’d been wearing. The neckline had plunged low, and the soft swell of her breasts had driven him crazy with desire. Had they not been in a public venue… if she’d only agreed to share his bed…
Ryder closed his eyes and lost himself to the fantasy, his right hand unzipping his jeans and closing around his cock. He had a flash of Zoe kneeling in front of him, her breasts falling out of her dress. Ryder, she whispered, looking up at him through lust-glazed eyes. Let me touch you.
His hand started fisting his dick as the movie rolled in his mind’s eye. Zoe licked her lips in anticipation before leaning forward to take him in her mouth. No hands, he said. Lock them behind your back. Just your mouth, Zoe.
Yes Ryder, she said compliantly. Her lips parted and her tongue flicked out to lick a drop of pre-cum from his engorged head. His cock hardened further at her low throaty moan of pleasure. She took him partway into her mouth and started to suck on him lightly.
Oh god Zoe, he moaned, his eyes tightly closed as a shock-wave of lust traveled up his spine. His hands tangled in her caramel-colored hair, pulling her deeper down his cock. Take it all.
She started bobbing on him, her mouth forming a tight, wet passage for his shaft. Her hands moved position, her fingers sliding inside her panties. He couldn’t quite see her touch herself. The long skirt of her dress obstructed his view, but he could imagine her delicate fingers parting her tight pussy, spreading her petals open. Her thumb strumming over her clitoris, faster, moving in steady strokes…
He could feel his balls draw up, his climax approaching rapidly. I’m going to come, Zoe, he warned her, and rather than pull away, she sucked on him with increased determination. He started to buck his hips into her mouth, and as he came, she swallowed every last bit.
Tasty, she said, when he’d finally softened in her mouth. That was fun.
I’m glad, Ryder said, lost in his fantasy, unmindful of the fact that he’d ejaculated all over his clothes, in his backyard, in broad daylight. And it’s your turn now.
In a different part of Toronto, Zoe Robinson shut the door to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, wondering what she’d done.
She’d just agreed to marry a man she barely knew for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Money that would pay her grandmother’s overdue property tax bill, and would allow her to stay in the home she’d lived in most of her life. That was worth it, right?
With any other man, the answer would have been an unequivocal yes. Nellie Robinson was the most important person in the world to Zoe. She would do anything to protect her grandmother from the wolves that circled at their door.
But Ryder Drake? His eyes promised sin, his body embodied desire, and his kisses would wake the dead. Last night, his lips had been tender and demanding all in one, and she’d been helpless, unable to resist. Unwilling to resist. Oh, who was she kidding? She’d kissed him back, wanting him just as fiercely as he seemed to want her.
Her skin was hot to the touch. Thinking of Ryder, she experienced the same uncontrolled need she’d felt last night. Almost in a daze, she reached over for the dildo she kept in a drawer at the side of her bed.
Thankfully, her grandmother didn’t enter her room without permission.
Zoe shut her eyes, taking her mind back to the party. She watched herself kiss Ryder. Come home with me, he asked.
And this time, because she was living a fantasy, and because dreams had no consequences, she said yes.
Ryder threaded his way through the crowd, his hand holding Zoe’s wrist, ignoring the people who tried to engage him in conversation. Once they escaped the party, he made his way to an elevator and pushed a button.
Where are we going?
To my office. He flashed her a smile, though his eyes were molten with heat. I can’t wait. I need you now.
The elevator doors parted, and she entered, tugging him with her. What floor? she asked, her fingers poised over the panel. She was just as impatient as he was. More impatient.
Top. He pushed her against the back, holding her wrists above her head with one hand. With the other, he cupped her breasts, squeezing them until she gasped with pleasure. More, she begged. Harder.
His dark gaze swept over her. He saw her. Saw through the good girl, looked inside to find the deepest, darkest part of her. His fingers rubbed at her nipple, then he pinched and twisted, hard.
She couldn’t hold back her moan. Rough enough for you, Zoe? he asked, a wicked grin creasing his lips.
More. Her voice was almost a sob. Please.
He pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, tugging the fabric down to her waist. He pulled her breasts out of her bra, and stepped back, his eyes drinking her in. Stay like that, he ordered, as she moved to lower her hands in an instinctive attempt at covering herself.
A beep sounded, and the elevator doors parted open.
Ryder, she whispered, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. Someone will see.
Don’t worry. There’s no one on this floor except us. His voice was calm. He led her down a luxuriously carpeted hallway, and opened a door at the end.
Your office is massive.
An amused smile filled Ryder’s face. That’s not the only thing that’s massive, Zoe. He inclined his head towards the couch. Take the dress off, sit down, and spread your legs.
She obeyed, her body prickling with heat and nerves and arousal. He slid to his knees gracefully, his dark head bending between her legs. I need to taste you, Zoe. His eyes burned with desire. I need to find out if you taste as sweet as your kisses.
Ryder, she cried out, as his hands traced a slow path up her inner thighs.
So wet, Zoe. He removed her panties, and with one finger, he rubbed a circle around her clitoris, slicking some of her wetness onto her bundle of nerves. Another finger slid into her pussy. So tight. He looked up into her eyes. I want you to touch yourself, he said. Cup your breasts and pinch your nipples, honey.
She flushed at the thought of pleasing herself in front of him, but her need was greater than her diffidence. Her palms glided over her chest, thumbs rubbing at her erect nipples. Her fingers trapped the hard nubs between them, and she squeezed, and the delicious pinch of pain made her groan out aloud.
Ryder watched, his dark eyes intent. So beautiful, he murmured. I could watch you all day. Taste you for eternity. Feel the quiver in your flesh as you respond to my touch.
His tongue licked a broad path up her pussy, while his fingers stroked her calves. She bit her lip and threw her head back as he feasted on her, lingering, nibbling, nipping. When his teeth grazed across her clitoris, she gasped out aloud. Again, she begged, jolted by a sharp shock of intense pleasure. Do that again.
She felt her body tighten and tremble. Her core started to spasm and her hips thrust towards him. His mouth and teeth and tongue kept up their attack on her pussy, and her desire crested, unable to be contained anymore. She exploded, her back arching, a scream on her lips.
Through her haze, she heard a condom wrapper tear, and his thick, hard cock plunged into her. Massive had been the right word. He was huge and he was splitting her open, and she’d never welcomed the pain as much as she did in that moment.
His thrusts were sharp, fast, uncontrolled. I can’t hold on, he ground out. Neither could she. Her pussy clenched spasmodically against his cock, and he groaned aloud as he came, his body shuddering with pleasure.
Zoe lay in her bed for a few minutes until her body recovered from the intensity of the climax that had shattered her. Would it be as good as my fantasies?
Then she shook her head, dismissing that wayward thought.
She could have sex dreams about Ryder Drake.
She could orgasm with his name on her lips.
But she couldn’t cross the line and make her fantasies a reality.
No sex with Ryder, she told herself firmly. This marriage is about money. Don’t bring emotions into it. It’s only six months. You can resist Ryder for six months.
Yet even as she thought those words, she knew she was lying. Ryder was entirely too irresistible for his own good.
And they were getting married.
Tara Crescent is a writer of steamy romantic fiction. She believes in sassy submissives, firm Dominants, completely consensual relationships and happily-ever-afters! Her favorite kind of romance stories are ones that are somewhat believable. In her spare time, Tara reads, gardens, cooks, and procrastinates about cleaning. From time to time, Tara blogs about what she’s working on (and anything else that she finds interesting) at http://www.taracrescent.com. She lives in Toronto. She is somewhat active on and Twitter, especially when the writing is going poorly.
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Hiding in Plain Sight
by Crystal Dawn
Edited by Eagle Editing
Copyright 2016 by Crystal Dawn
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a coincidence. While some actual places may be named, they are used only in the context of imaginary events. The story is strictly created from the author’s imagination and all of the events are fictitious.
Ven got up when the phone rang just a little bit before his alarm would have gone off. That didn’t bother him too much. It was just a few minutes early and he’d actually been awake already with thoughts of getting up on his mind. “Hello?”
“Hey Ven. I’m sick and can’t come in today.”
“Wolves don’t get sick. If you need a day off, just ask.”
“I need a day off.”
“Okay, but don’t make a habit of it, Hendricks.”
That was how it had all begun. It turned out to be both the best and worst day of his life. So far nothing was really out of the ordinary. Ven and Hendricks ran the local motorcycle dealership. Ven actually owned it having scrimped, saved, and worked more than one job at a time just for the down payment. The shop carried not just bikes but any accessory a biker could want. There was also a garage next door his cousin Amos ran for him that repaired anything that might be wrong with a bike, mechanically or body wise. His cousin was gifted and even did restoration.
Someday he figured Amos would have a shop of his own but for now he was young, without ambition, and had no desire to be anything or anywhere other than where he was. Ven was happy to have him even if he knew it was only temporary. Life was good although Ven had goals he had yet to accomplish the main one being finding his fated one. He would never settle for less.
Knowing he would be running things alone today made him hurry so he would be early enough to do his own tasks and those Hendricks usually did. One of Hendricks task was to run by the donut shop to get two dozen donuts for any customers who might drop by. Hendricks and he usually finished them off toward the end of the day, but they were popular with a few loyal customers that sometimes dropped by just for the donuts, or so he suspected. Once in a while they left with a lot more so he considered the donuts a good investment. Besides, he and Hendricks liked them too.
Hendricks also had a crush on the new girl at the donut shop. Ven was dressed and ready to go so he hurried down the steps to his Harley. Hopping on he was out on the open road in seconds. Mere minutes later he was entering the donut shop where his usual order was ready and waiting. A quick look around showed no sign of their new employee.
“Where is Loren?” he asked.
“You mean Lorilie? Don’t tell me you’re pining after her too?” Nie asked.
“No, I was just concerned that you might have lost another one.”
The pretty redhead huffed at him. “She called in sick.”
“And so it begins.” It wasn’t that Nie was hard to get along with, she wasn’t. It was that she was reduced to hiring high school and college kids most of whom didn’t expect to work hard. Nie kept them busy causing many to quit in the first week.
She sighed. “I hope she stays. The girl actually puts in a good day’s work. She’s got a couple more years of college before I know I’ll lose her.”
Ven kept his mouth shut even though he was sure he knew where the girl was. It wasn’t his place to interfere with love. “Thanks for having the order ready.” It surprised him that she didn’t ask why he’d come instead of Hendricks but maybe she suspected and didn’t want to know for sure.
“No problem. Have a nice day.”
More people came in as he left. Nie would have a busy day but she was up to handling anything. He suspected she was a white wolf, the almost magical blood line thought extinct until recently. Now they were turning up everywhere. They had bred with humans and others until they scented mostly human but one bite or the magical changing ceremony and they would be as much a wolf as he himself was.
Tying the box of donuts down in his carrier, he took off rushing now that he had lingered too long.
It was a surprise to find a female waiting on his doorstep. An attractive female with dark hair and she looked a bit out of place. “Hello.” She called to him as he approached. “Do you work here?”
Shooting her a brilliant smile he gave her a quick once over. “I certainly do, ma’am. Is there something I can help you with?”
“My name is Sharon and I’m looking for a motorcycle.”
“Of course. We have a good selection plus if you can’t find anything in stock we have a catalog to order from.” It was amazing the effect this female was having on him.
They’d walked to the Harleys which was where her interest lay. She’d looked them over explaining how much she could spend, which was significantly less than the cost of the one she loved. He’d shown her other bikes but her heart had been set on one she couldn’t afford. Slowly he’d dropped the price as they negotiated until he wasn’t making a dime, but her smile when he’d accepted her final offer had made it all worthwhile.
It was official, he was in love. She agreed to see him the next night and he was over the moon with excitement. The next night he waited at the local watering hole to buy her a drink. In his mind he was celebrating his luck in managing to get a date with Sharon. The night went well and she agreed to another date. This one he hoped would get him more than a chaste kiss.
It was the next day at work when his phone rang so he answered it since it could be a customer. It was Sharon and at first he was delighted.
“Hello, miss me already?” He teased her.
“I’m sorry, Ven. I didn’t know you were a wolf and I just don’t date wolves. It’s best that we break things off now.”
“How did you know?” He asked wondering if he’d done something to reveal his nature.
“My family deals with supernaturals a lot. Good bye, Ven.” She whispered with regret.
He finished his day before he started making calls only to find out she was a white wolf. That explained some of the pull he felt but he was sure she was his white wolf. A few weeks past but she was always on his mind. One night out on the backroads he saw a bike off on the side of the road. Someone was broke down. It was just his way to stop to help when he saw it was Sharon. She’d managed to run out of gas.
He helped her out and she agreed to see him inviting him to come to her house. His heart leaped pounding hard at this chance to reclaim his female. Pride wanted to make her wait, put her off, but deep inside he knew she’d run. He asked for her address and went home for the night. Once he got off work the next day, he hurried home to get ready. Was he a fool? Yes, for his fated mate and no one else.
Her house was a small two bedroom that she rented from her cousin. It was nice for a single person. “Here I am.” He said unnecessarily nervous as hell. Ven was certain what she was to him which made him hope she had finally realized it too.”
“Yes, you are.” She said as she stared at him like he was a tasty morsel. That’s when he recognize what this really was. It was nothing more than a booty call. Ven loved sex but with this female he wanted so much more. Maybe he could use the sex to bind her to him.
Pulling her into his arms, his dominant side came out to play. Her desire grew until the musky sweet scent filled the room. Lowering his lips to her he sucked in her lower lip biting it just enough to taste her intoxicating blood while she moaned in his arms. Ven planned to brand her so she would know she was his, never wanting to leave his arms again. Stripping her slowly, his hands and mouth worshipped her silky smooth skin. She shivered but not because she was cold, she was needy.
“You are wearing too much.” She pointed out.
“Sweetheart, this is how things are going to work. In the bedroom I’m in charge and I will make sure you are completely worn out and satisfied by my hands, lips, tongue, and cock.”
Her knees seemed to go weak so he supported her as he looked around for a place to lay her down. Lifting her into his arms he carried his naked siren to her couch spreading her out before him like an all you can eat buffet. While she was lying there looking at him he decided to give her a show. His T-shirt went over his head then once he was free of it he flung it to the floor. Her eyes widened as he unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them slowly. When he slid them down with his underwear and his cock popped free, she licked her lips.
“I’m not sure I can take all that, but I’m willing to give it a shot.” She said softly watching him in awe.
“Oh, you can take it, Sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’re so hot and wet it slides right in.” He could hear her gasp. Either he’d shocked her with his dirty mouth or she was extremely turned on, maybe both. Ven waited a few seconds to let her look her fill before he moved to the couch getting on top of her. Holding his weight off her with one hand, he palmed a breast in the other.
“I love your tits Honey.” She moaned as his fingers found her nipple tweaking it.
Ven moved down licking and nipping until Sharon writhed with need. Now his face was between her legs. Breathing deeply he let the aroma of his female’s need wash over him. His tongue flicked out for a taste, she was as sweet as he’d expected. Settling in, he was going to give her an orgasm she would never forget. One hand slid under her squeezable ass cheeks and tilted her for easy access. Fingers from his other hand began to finger fuck her slowly at first with one finger then faster as he added another finger. His tongue went to her clit worrying it as she gripped his hair trying to pull him even closer.
It wasn’t long before she screamed his name loud and long. A rush of honey flooded his face as he tried to get it all. When he finally lifted his face, a smile of satisfaction was on it. Now he slid up her body impaling her inch by inch on his sizable cock. As he’d told her, it slid in slowly but surely until he was fully seated. They moaned together, damn it felt good. It was rough and quick the first time. He tried to hold back but need rode him hard. Pounding into her, he was amazed how fast she reached her peak again. Her channel squeezed him so hard his seed spilled out until not a drop was left.
Once they had calmed down, he picked her up carrying her to her room where they spent hours fucking each other until they were both sated. He left just before dawn and it started the pattern of them hiding their relationship right in plain sight. Everyone thought they were just friends and he felt like a dirty secret. Something had to give. Finally it did.
He was lounging on her bed looking at her as she tried to read a book. “You know you’d rather ride my face.” It was cute the way she blushed. There was a knock on the door.
It turned out to be a cousin who suspected something. It upset Sharon so badly she broke it off with him again. That made him wonder if she felt what he did but he realized she was running scared. She actually thought she could escape destiny and him. Somehow he would find another opportunity and next time, there would be no escape.
When she’s not out hunting rogue vampires and werewolves, you can find Crystal Dawn out exploring the galaxy. She can do it all without ever leaving her computer. She kicks ass, takes names, and puts it all down for the enjoyment of her readers. At least that’s what I think she told me.
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“Never thought I’d find myself tied hand and foot beside a beautiful woman in the middle of the desert.”
Mariel smiled as she opened her eyes. She’d been dozing off and on as the sun slowly sank toward the horizon. She guessed they still had a good half hour until sunset, which meant that she and the Marshal—Clay—were prisoners for a little while longer.
Prisoners wasn’t quite the correct term for what they were, though. She wasn’t sure there was a correct term for what she and Clay were, which was basically living food for the vampire named Vellum. Willing food, she corrected herself. At least in my case.
The Marshal hadn’t experienced what she had in the cargo car, so he was still resistant to being at Vellum’s mercy. She didn’t blame him one bit. Vampires were one of the most feared creatures in the Empire. Tales of bloodsuckers kept children from misbehaving and deterred many would-be bandits from roaming the streets at night. For Clay, being unarmed and in the clutches of a vampire had to be a worst case scenario.
If only he knew what she knew.
“Could be worse,” she said, prompting him to look over at her. “You could be tied up with a big, hairy man who smells like a pen full of pigs.”
“That’d definitely be worse,” he agreed, and flashed her one of his heart-stopping grins. “When you put it that way, I’m the luckiest man in the Empire.”
She was proud of herself for not blushing beneath his intent, whiskey-eyed gaze. Marshal Clay Carson had a reputation that made women scoff in the company of other women and left them fantasizing in private. Tall, lean and handsome in a sunny and disarming way, he was difficult to resist. Mariel had been fighting her attraction to him since the moment he entered her inn in Willowtown and informed her he was escorting her to Everton Fort whether she liked it or not. Had he been ugly, she might have put up more of a fight.
Maybe it’s time to stop fighting. You already had your fun with Vellum, after all. What’s one more man?
She inwardly laughed at her boldness, but a part of her considered the idea. A big problem was that Clay had no idea that Mariel had already experienced the vampire’s bite and been…affected by it. He didn’t know that in the darkened cargo car, Vellum had literally swept her off her feet and delved beneath her skirts. Vellum had done more than drink her blood—he’d shared with her a taste of something delicious in return. Something she might now be addicted to, because before falling asleep she hadn’t thought of escape; she’d anticipated the next time Vellum would need to feed from her and whether it would be as mind-blowing as the first time.
She had surrendered to Vellum the way she had to no man, and it had been liberating. She was now aware of her sexuality in a way she never had been before. And she hungered in a way she hadn’t before. She hungered for pleasure.
Would Clay understand this carnal creature she had become? Would he accept it? Or would he judge her for having sex with a creature of the night, maybe think her tainted now? Mariel was afraid to find out. She liked Clay.
“What’s the matter?” he asked softly, his brows drawing down. He brought his bound hands up between them and gently brushed her hair off her forehead. “We’ll get through this, Mariel. I promise you.”
She turned her cheek so she could nuzzle into his palm. The rope binding his wrists grazed the side of her neck where Vellum had sunk his fangs into her. Thankfully the bite hadn’t left a mark. And yet…her heart raced as she imagined Clay seeing the two puncture wounds and realizing what the vampire had done to her.
“I’m not afraid,” she told him honestly. “Not anymore.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why not anymore?”
She glanced over his shoulder at the crate which held Vellum’s sleeping form. When the sun finally disappeared, Vellum would push the lid aside and untie her and Clay. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would leave them tied and helpless as he fed from them. She imagined it too easily: Vellum crawling over Clay, pushing the Marshal to the ground and sealing his lips over the strong cords of Clay’s throat. Mariel would know the instant Vellum pierced him with his fangs because Clay’s entire body would stiffen and then he would moan, unable to stop himself as Vellum’s vampiric lust overcame his inhibitions.
Mariel closed her eyes and shuddered as she imagined Vellum sliding over to her next, his lips red with Clay’s blood. Vellum’s dark eyes would pin her where she lay. He would hold her bound hands above her head so he would have access to her entire body. It was too easy to imagine his weight on her body, his hand cupping her breast, his cock rubbing sensually against her folds. Beside them, Clay, drunk on lust, would roll toward them, needy and hungry. As Vellum sank his fangs into her throat, Clay would find her lips and slide his hot tongue into her mouth—
She blinked at Clay, shocked at how easily she’d slipped into the fantasy.
He smiled uncertainly. “Something tells me I’m losing my touch with the ladies.”
That made her laugh. The mounting lust in her body eased. “I don’t think you need to be concerned about that, Marshal.”
“Are you saying that look on your face right now was on account of you daydreaming about me?”
If only you knew, Clay.
“You want me to dream about you?” she asked, deciding to push the issue.
Clay’s eyes darkened and the playfulness melted from his handsome face. “To start with, sure. But dreaming can only get you so far. It’s reality that’s worth living for.” He shifted closer, hampered by his bound wrists and ankles. Still, he managed to loom over her simply because of the width of his shoulders. “You telling me you’re in the mood for some reality, Mariel?”
Her heart thundered in her chest. Clay didn’t possess the thrall that Vellum did, but that didn’t seem to matter. Her blood was hot just from Clay being who he was.
“Maybe I need it,” she whispered back.
He groaned beneath his breath. Taking her bound hands in hers, he moved their shared grip above her head as she fell onto her back with him following her down. He cursed at being unable to sling a leg across her hips and had to settle with resting his lower body against hers while he pressed her down with his broad chest.
She felt his heart beating, as powerfully and quickly as hers. Her nipples poked into his chest and she could tell that he could feel it. Strands of his light brown hair fell around his temples but he didn’t seem to notice, his attention focused on her as though nothing else mattered, not even the vampire lying asleep only a few feet away.
“Every day that we’d been riding that train I’d wished we were together for a different reason,” he confessed to her, his voice low and rumbly, tickling her low between her legs. “You’re my kind of woman, Mariel.”
“You hardly know me.”
“After what we’ve been through?” He smiled wryly, briefly. Then he became intense again. “You’re strong and you’re intelligent. And you’re as brave as any Marshal I’ve worked with. Maybe I didn’t know all that about you when we first met, but I could tell there was a core of steel in you. Not to mention everything wrapped around that steel is as pretty as a rose.”
Men flirted with her all the time at the inn. She was used to brushing it off. But despite that, and even though she was aware of Clay’s reputation, Mariel was affected. It meant something to her to hear such words from a man like him, especially out here, where Clay had nothing to prove to anyone. Clay didn’t believe he had any competition, so he didn’t need to try hard. Yet he was trying. Maybe because he really did want her.
“You told me on the train that you’ve heard stories about me,” he went on, as if reading her mind. “I won’t lie and tell you they aren’t true. But after a while, Mariel, a man gets to thinking that his life would be a whole lot better, a whole lot brighter, if he could settle down with that one special lady and forget the rest.”
Mariel stared up at him in wonder. Was Clay about to confess his feelings for her? At first, her heart leaped with joy. Clay was any woman’s dream come true. But the quiet scrape of wood over wood dashed that thought immediately. She felt him tense above her, and noted her own heart had begun to race.
“Good morning,” Vellum said pleasantly. “Mariel, is the Marshal growing frisky? Do you require my assistance? Or should I take a walk and leave you two to…come to terms?”
Her cheeks blazed. Did Vellum think her a whore for lying with him and now apparently coming on to Clay? Was he upset? Jealous? Or was the casual curiosity in his voice genuine? What kind of relationships did vampires form?
“Mariel’s fine, no thanks to you,” Clay shot back angrily. He rolled off of Mariel and onto his opposite elbow so he could face the dark figure standing over them. “What kind of monster are you, tying a woman up and leaving her on the ground for eight hours?”
Mariel rose up, too, but she couldn’t see Vellum’s face thanks to the indigo and purple glow of the dying sunset behind his shoulders. He was a shadow of a figure, nothing more.
“I’m the kind of monster that saved your lives.”
“At the expense of sucking our blood!”
Vellum’s chuckle raised goose bumps on Mariel’s skin, though whether from fear or sensual awareness, she couldn’t say.
“If that’s the only price to pay, I dare say you might thank me by journey’s end, Marshal.”
“What does that mean?” Clay growled.
“It means that even if Mariel could run, I doubt she would. And soon, that will be true of you, as well.”
Mariel bit her lip, praying Vellum said no more. If Clay must learn that she’d been intimate with the vampire, she wanted to be the one to tell him.
To her relief, Vellum turned and walked to the horses. “I’ll untie you both momentarily,” he said from over his shoulder. “I’ll just see to building a fire, first.”
Once the vampire was out of earshot, Clay rolled back over to face Mariel. “What was that about?” he demanded. “Why would he say you wouldn’t run if you were free?”
“Because there’s nowhere to run to!” she shot back. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
She held her breath, afraid he would see through her. Eventually, though, Clay nodded with resignation. “We’d have to steal the horses. You’re right that we’d die of thirst if we left on foot.”
Mariel shut her eyes in relief. Clay didn’t suspect. But Vellum could change that at any time. Would the vampire call her out? Boast to Clay about how he’d brought her to orgasm nearly instantly? She didn’t think so, not carelessly. Not without a motive better than one male bragging to another.
But maybe he just admitted that he has one. He’s going to feed from Clay, too, remember?
She pictured it again: the moment Vellum literally sank his fangs into the Marshal. And though Mariel knew she should feel trepidation for Clay for what lay in store for him, she mostly felt only anticipation. Because if Clay felt even a fraction of what she’d experienced when Vellum had penetrated her with his teeth…well, there was no telling what the three of them might get up to out here where no eyes could judge them and no one could tell them no.
Tricia Owens has been publishing fiction of various genres since 2002. She’s visited over 70 countries and climbed mountains, but she prefers to sit around in her pajamas. She makes her home in Las Vegas.
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Danny leaned back in his chair with a frown as he studied the reports. I already knew what they said, and didn’t blame him a damn bit for the disgust written all over his face. You could only give someone so many chances before it became apparent they had no plans to change. In this case, we’d issued citations at a residence with a dog hoarding situation a few times. The newest report, just sent in from a home visit, showed there was no change.
“We’re going to have to seize them. I’ll make a call to the judge and get him to sign the warrant. Meanwhile, you need to coordinate with a rescue down there that we’ve worked with before. The owner’s name is Hope Hopewell. She’s a good gal. Tell her I’ve retired and you’re taking over for me,” Danny instructed.
I grinned at him. “Yeah, boss. You sure look like you’ve retired.”
He laughed and ran a hand through imaginary hair on his balding head. “I guess I’m like a dog with a bone. I’m so set in my ways, I don’t know how to let it go.”
“I’ll take all the training you’re willing to give. I want to bring my best to this job and give it my all,” I assured him.
He stopped and the look he gave me was slow and measured. “Wes, you’re going to make a damn fine manager of Fayette Animal Control. Now, go call Hope from Last Hope Rescue and see if she’ll be able to take on some of these dogs.”
Hope? The reality of what he was telling me to do set in and I hesitated for a moment. “Yes, sir,” I finally managed before walking to my desk. Surely it can’t be. It’s just a coincidence.
I sat down and pulled up the internet to get the info for this Last Hope Rescue. The website appeared after a quick search, and I clicked on the name. The picture that met my eyes had me cursing as the world dropped out from beneath my feet.
I know that face. I know that smile.
Even though the only image I had of the woman I wanted the most was from a picture, it burned in my memory like a brand. And there was no mistaking the photo in front of me now. Just to be absolutely fucking sure, I grabbed my mobile out and logged on to the kink forum I stalked nightly. Every waking minute in the evenings, I talked to a certain woman…
Using her profile, I navigated over to the photos a friend of hers recently posted. Force2NJoy knew her in real life, and while Hopefully seemed conservative and private, Force2NJoy freely uploaded and tagged photos of them together. I scrolled through them and finally found the one I was looking for. The picture on my phone matched the one on the computer screen. A beautiful, dark haired woman smiled at the camera while a passel of puppies romped around her. On the kink site, Force2NJoy had typed the caption, Sorry boys, this is the only person I’m in to puppy play with. On the computer, the photo welcomed potential adopters to the rescue.
I’ll be damned. It’s her. I found her.
Excitement rocketed through me and I felt like I was out in the field running a course with my newest group of trainees and their K9’s again. The sheer sense of achievement coupled with anticipation had my palms sweating as I picked up my desk phone.
No… It couldn’t be like this. HopefullyBreathless and I talked every damn night. We shared our deepest, darkest fantasies and made half promises that someday we’d meet. I’d always wanted more, but never wanted to pressure her. But this was too beautifully orchestrated to be sheer chance. After nearly taking a bullet on deployment in a warzone, I didn’t believe in chance anymore.
I rubbed at my face and took a deep breath. If I knew Hope—and damn did it feel good to finally have a real name—she wouldn’t know how to handle it if I was completely upfront about my identity when I talked to her. Despite her sexy kinks, she seemed scared under it all. She’d never mentioned anything bad happening, but her nature screamed cautious. I respected that. But I also knew I wanted to meet her. To see her beauty in person. To know what her voice sounded like, and the notes of her laughter.
Great. You’re becoming a sopping romantic for a woman you’ve never met in person.
But I still knew her. Knew so many intimate things about her. And I knew, once she met me, if I played my cards right, she’d be comfortable finding out who I was.
Work first, then personal business.
“Make sure to remember to have her sign the transfer paperwork,” Danny called as he set his phone down. “The judge said you can pick the warrant up tomorrow morning.”
I stood and stuffed my phone back in my pocket. I knew what I had to do, and with that knowledge came a determined satisfaction. It equally matched the excitement dancing inside me.
“Danny, do you mind if I go talk to Ms. Hopewell in person? I’d like to introduce myself and tell her what’s going on. Since we’ll be working together, I thought it might help to start us off on the right foot.”
The older man raised an eyebrow, and the look on his face sent disappointment zinging through me. “Wes, I ain’t stupid, and I ain’t so old I’m senile either. Hope’s beautiful and she’s single. If you’re gonna get friendly, you better treat her right or I’ll come in here and pester the shit out of you until the day I die.”
A burst of laughter erupted from me before I could stop it. If only Danny knew just how right I intended to treat Hope. How amusing would it be for him to find out just how dirty that sweet girl wanted to play. “I promise I’ll be careful and respectful.”
He issued a noncommittal grunt and I grabbed the keys for one of the company trucks. “I have my cell on me if you need me. I’ll probably stay in Norrington for the night. That way I can get the warrant first thing in the morning and get those poor dogs away from that mess.”
Danny waved a hand at me and I headed out the door as quick as humanly possible before he could change his mind. Even as I strode toward the truck, excitement seized hold of me once more. In about an hour, I’d finally meet the woman I’d been dreaming of for months face to face.
Hope was mine. She just didn’t know it yet.
When D. F. Krieger was banned from writing contests at her school, she immediately set it in her head that she would become a professional writer. Since then, she has thrown away her plans of world domination through books, but she still enjoys writing. By the time she pens her final book with a hand ravaged by age, she hopes to introduce her readers to many alternate worlds, lines of thinking, and captivating characters.
Find more of D. F. Krieger on her or
Next thing Kim knew, they’d taken her up on her wild proposal. They always joked about having a threesome, and tonight, she not only took them up on their offer, but she made demands to be in charge. She needed this control, this release, and damned if she would feel one moment of shame about it.
Walking into the bedroom, the guys threw their shirts on the floor, thrust their wrists out, and waited to be tied as if they feared she might change her mind.
She moved them, guiding one to each side of the bed.
“I’m giving you both enough slack you will be able to lie side by side on the bed, as well as on top of each other. I want you to be able to move, but I want you powerless to a degree as well.”
She shrugged, very pleased with herself as she removed David’s jeans. He stood there as a dusty-blond haired god in his own right. Mesmerizing chocolate brown eyes with thick, dark lashes were right on par with his killer, washboard abs. Yes, he was something right off the big screen. Of course, when she popped open the button and undid his zipper on his jeans, a nice, hard package pressed forth to greet her every desire. His cock hung thick and long, with veins a rugged accent to the red, tight skin.
“Damn,” was all she could get out as she licked her lips. Tonight wasn’t necessarily about control, but a reigning in of power, maybe like roping a bull.
She walked up to David until their bodies were flush. A fire sparked to life in her belly.
His roped hands cupped around her face, caressed her gently. She allowed him this as she got lost in his darkening blue stare, waiting.
She took the next step, putting her hands flush against his solid chest and leaning into him. She touched her lips against his, lightly at first, but quickly moved on to being more possessive. He opened his lips slightly under the pressure, and she slipped her tongue in to taste. His flavor reminded her of the beer he’d had with dinner, but she didn’t mind. She tilted her head to a better angle and leaned all her weight into him.
“There is a wild and restless woman in you, and I can’t wait to release her,” David mumbled against her lips, his breath a sigh of heat across the swollen flesh.
“I can’t wait to free her,” she panted out, stepping away from him and moving around the bed, seductively approaching her next gift to unwrap.
Jake was taller, wide, muscle upon muscle. He had black, silky hair, blue eyes, and a smooth, hairless chest cut in all the right places. His olive-toned skin shone as if he’s oiled it down and she licked her lips at the idea of running her tongue over the lightly darkened skin, tasting his musky essence.
Once she had his jeans and boxers down, she marveled over the nice dusting of russet-colored hair that caught the light, the lighter, almost golden tips shimming around his cock like a halo. Erect, it stood out proud with a perfectly sculpted head.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to touch his tantalizing flesh just yet.
“Do I get one of those kisses as well?” He tried for meek, she could see, with his hands together in front of his cock. The sheer size of him, however, made his intent all the more humorous.
Giggling, she leaned in and met his lips. Their kiss had no less passion, but was more like a game. Each time she moved in, he would retreat a bit, tease, before coming back in and pressing hard against her mouth. At which point, she’d pull back a little, look into his cerulean eyes, and then come in again for more. She moaned as she pulled away after several rounds.
“Why don’t both of you lay down on the bed on your stomachs, side by side.” After they obeyed with enthusiasm, she spread their legs apart while staring at their asses, the way they framed their full balls. Jake’s ass was bubbled up more than David’s, but each were fantastic in their own way. David’s more rock hard, where she knew with Jake’s she would have something to dig her fingers into. Oh, the possibilities here.
“I just want to munch. Damn, you guys are something.”
She grabbed the lube they had set out for her, going first for David’s ass. Running her fingers between his ass cheeks was sublime. He tensed, teasing her. Her fingers dug into solid muscle to open him back up so she could spread lube around his puckered hole. He bucked at her, and she relished the feel of pinning his hips to the bed by sitting on him. She took control of his ass, sliding her wet fingers around it, touching, teasing, testing. Then she moved off him, intentionally leaving him wanting.
Something tingled low in her belly. She followed that stray inclination and brought her hand down hard on his ass. He jumped, and then moaned. His ass clenched and released, then he circled his hips, grinding his cock on the bed as if he were fucking it.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Her hand warmed, as did David’s ass, turning a nice shade of red as she gave him a few more hard swats.
Next, she helped Jake get up on all fours as if he weren’t capable on his own. She positioned him over David’s body, making Jake sit on David’s red, tender cheeks. David growled in response to the pressure on his warmed globes.
Jake’ dick, long and hard, almost purplish in its need, stood out in front of him. She lubed up his erection, letting her fingers glide slowly over the soft skin covering tight flesh. He moved against her hands, alternately groaning and sucking in deep breaths in unison with David now.
Spreading open David’s ass cheeks again, she ordered Jake to push his cock in. Watching Jake’ long, hard dick open up David’s ass and slide in, made her pussy throb, her tight nipples ache.
“Fuck him,” she ordered. They obeyed and then some.
Beyond anything she’d ever witnessed before, her body trembled as she smacked Jake’ ass now. Each hit made him fuck David harder.
Once reddened, she kissed and bit at Jake’s ass, and the sides of David’s as they moved together. Just watching them, the sheer power of their bodies, the invasion, she got lightheaded.
She couldn’t get enough of watching Jake’s cock move in and out of David’s hole. Beyond words, but animalistic, raw, slow but rough, she could stare all night and intended to do just that.
By day, Abby is what the world tells her to be, but by night, alone with her imagination, she is who she wants to be. Giving into the breathy voices that paint new and exciting sexual scenarios inside of her head, she pounds away at her keyboard. Is writing in bed naked wrong? She doesn’t think so. Abby’s only goal is to have her readers free their own minds, grab their ereaders, and go away with her into a world where no one judges what the body wants, instead they explore what the flesh is capable of.
Find Abby on or her
It was lovely seeing Dorian like this—relaxed, satiated, and half dressed. I appreciated all three, specifically the half-naked part. Something about a man in workout pants slung low enough to display those delicious Adonis Belts curving along his hips, or the subtle line of dark blonde hair leading to the Promised Land turned me on. One item I didn’t appreciate were the fading wounds on his body—the ones I sutured.
I should run screaming from both his penthouse, and the man, but it was as though he were a spider and I found myself captured in his web, unwilling to escape.
“Would you care for something to drink?” he yelled from the kitchen, visible from my spot on his sleep-inducing black leather couch.
“Sparkling water would be nice.”
He chuckled, snagged a liter of Pellegrino, two glasses, and lime wedges, and returned to the living room. Instead of sitting, he gestured with his head. “Let’s move outside.”
“Do I want to know what you find so amusing?” I tugged the hem of his soft gray shirt and followed through the door, pausing as soon as the chilly air licked my thighs. “This isn’t outside attire.”
“I’ll keep you warm.”
“That’s what disturbs me,” I grumbled. Go me. I’m nothing, if not an agreeable hostage. Who am I kidding? I didn’t become a captive when he brought me to Chicago from Wisconsin; that took place the moment he walked through the doors of Chuck’s Steak House looking like an assassin.
Miniature white fairy lights flickered to life under the moonlit April sky. Balcony my foot! I stood on a terrace out of a movie set. I could easily imagine a candlelit dinner with a violinist serenading the couple right before the man dropped to a knee with a ring cradled in his palm.
The terrace stretched the width of the building, complete with views of Lake Michigan and the Chicago skyline. Similar to the interior of the penthouse, the décor leaned toward masculine but modern furnishings. The trees and ornamental plants made this the ideal backdrop for seduction.
A seduction I’m sure he’d orchestrated more than once. Imagining Dorian with numerous women made me nauseous, and the night less special. I wrapped my arms around my waist, knowing I was being petty and immature, but unable to stop.
“Over here.” Dorian waved and tossed a blanket onto a large sectional couch, frowning when I stepped into the pool of light enveloping him like a halo. “What happened in the thirty seconds since we stepped outside?”
“You do that a lot?” I nodded at the blanket and scowled at the open chest beside the couch. “What else is in your little trunk of tricks?”
Yes. “No.” I grunted and flicked an imaginary speck of lint off my sleeve. The image of his long lean body tangled with another slayed me. Hence, the reason I shouldn’t stick around.
“Would you believe me if I told you I don’t bring women to my home?”
I gave him the try again buddy face, and he chuckled. I enjoyed that sound. It reminded me of a chocolate sundae—thick, rich, and sinfully delicious.
“Of course you wouldn’t.” He moved so quick, I would’ve never believed he’d been shot less than a month ago.
Someone tried to kill him. I shuddered, picturing someone removing him from my life before he’d even entered. Looking back, the story of us read more like The Brothers Grimm than anything written by Mother Goose. I wouldn’t change a thing.
“Hey…” He slid his hands into my damp hair, and leaned closer, pressing his forehead against mine. “Where’d you go? I’d rather see you horny or pissed off. Never sad.”
Why was he so sweet? “I was… remembering the last few weeks.”
“Obviously not the part involving orgasms. Come, sit with me.” He led me to the sectional. Instead of sitting beside me, he sat a few feet away and patted his lap. “Feet.”
I wiggled my magenta painted toes and did as he asked—or should I say ordered.
I already believed his tongue and magnificent cock should be bronzed and placed in the Smithsonian, but I needed to add his fingers to my list of preferred body parts. Hell, at this rate, I was tempted to dip his entire sexy body in a molten vat of metal.
His thumbs pressed against my arch, and a blast of electricity shot straight to my clit. I’d received more pleasure in the month with him than the last…I don’t know…decade or so?
“If you keep that up, you’ll need assistance from local law enforcement to evict me.”
“Which part of you’re not leaving until I decide, do you not understand?”
“In case you’re not aware, that’s a felony.”
“I make my own laws.”
Once I could focus, I found him watching me, scrutinizing me. I couldn’t explain it. Each time that dark gaze captured mine, it felt as if he peered into my soul, unearthing my secrets.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours now?”
“I know next to nothing about you.” And how much I’d savor removing those pajama pants with my teeth, and licking you from head to toe and back again—but you don’t need to know that part.
“How about a game?”
He gave me a look that said he thought I’d finally lost my marbles. Maybe I had, but somewhere between saving Dorian’s life and him completely upending mine, I’d decided to stay and enact my darkest fantasies. If I planned to share my body with this carnal man, I’d like to be friends as well as lovers.
The feral grin on his rugged face made me lick my suddenly dry lips. “Entertainment of my choice?”
I shook my head, because if I opened my mouth, I may agree with anything he suggested.
I cleared my throat and gave him a wobbly smile. “You know the game Never Have I Ever?”
“Never have I ever heard of that stupid ass game.”
“Did you just make a funny?” I used the voice reserved for adorable babies and fluffy puppies.
He lifted and positioned me so I straddled his lap, and slapped my butt. “Learn some respect, woman.” He rubbed his hands in small circles on the cheek he just smacked. With a man like him, I understood why women liked a spanking every now and then.
“This is a modified version; I’ve changed the rules.”
“What did I say about me and rules?”
“You won’t mind these.” I know I wouldn’t. “Well, I thought we’d substitute kisses for alcohol.” Immediately, I regretted my suggestion. I squeezed my eyes shut. When would I learn? A man like Dorian wouldn’t want to play a game meant for teenagers. My ex-husband’s mocking laughter echoed through my mind, along with his constant snide remarks about my lack of polish and breeding.
“I can do that,” he said.
I opened one eye to find him looking up at me with an expression more heart melting than mocking. Maybe spending time with Dorian would be good for more than my sex life.
“Never have I ever spent intimate time out here with another woman.” His calloused hands rested on my thighs, thumbs trailing back and forth beneath the edge of the shirt.
“You’re not supposed to make it easy. That’s clearly not the truth.”
“Are you certain?” His hands inched higher on my inner thighs, and he rewarded me with a salacious grin “Then prepare to pay up.”
“Nope. This is one of the few places I can truly relax, something I can’t usually do with company—until now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” He looked anything but sad. Horny, handsome, and amused—yes. Everything else? Not so much.
“That you can’t allow anyone in enough to see this guy.” I couldn’t help myself; I leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It must suck.”
“All of this—” he motioned with one of his hands “—does not suck. Why does it not impress you?”
“I’m impressed by the things that matter.” I shrugged. His place should receive the full treatment from Architectural Digest, and he knew it, so I didn’t even plan to go there.
“I’m not into ego stroking.” But his body… That, I could stroke all over. I would run my fingers through his hair and touch my lips to the frown forming between his brows in appreciation of that sharp brain. Then, I would trail my tongue along his lips. The ones that did wicked dirty things to my body and made me angry enough to perform an act of violence. I considered stroking other parts far lower on his anatomy and allowed my gaze to drift.
He cleared his throat, interrupting my journey into the gutter.
“New rules.” He leaned me away from him until my back arched, and brushed his thumb across nipples that perked up the moment he entered a room. “You can have your kisses, but I chose where.” Instead of pulling me closer, he sat up and covered my breast with his warm mouth. Even through the shirt, his mouth sizzled. By the time he finished I was ready to play make me orgasm. The cocky bastard stared at me, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a you know you want me smirk.
Payback, thy name is Ryann.
“My turn.” I trailed a finger through the dark blond hair on his chest until I reach that delicious happy trail. I already knew what lay at the end of that path, and I wanted to take that trip again. He cleared his throat, and I poked him in the stomach. “I’m deep in contemplation here, don’t interrupt.”
I took my time wondering at life’s crazy detours. He may be a crazy pit-stop until I reached the next chapter in my life, but I already knew I’d never forget him. “Never ever have I wanted someone inside of me so desperately.”
“I can abso-fucking-lutely make that happen.”
When not writing or reading, AC Nixon is on a perpetual hunt for the perfect red wine to pair with dark chocolate and attempting to wean herself from social media. Since that won’t happen soon, feel free to friend her.
Find more of AC Nixon on or sign up for her
“Samantha Smith: You are hereby summoned to Club Diablo. You are charged with providing a human, Sassy Rivers, a spell allowing her to turn into a wolf shifter. Because of your actions, the aforementioned individual gained illegal access to the premises. Laws passed by the Paranormal Government forbid humans from entering any paranormal establishment, for their safety as well as our own. If you are found guilty of misdemeanor charges, you face fines up to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. If you are found guilty of felony charges, your magic will be stripped from you, permanently. You will then be executed and sent to the Underworld to spend eternity. Hades will be your Judge, Jury, and Executioner.”
My heart started to pound violently against my chest as I stared at the black parchment letter clutched in my left hand. I could feel the oxygen in the room slipping away as I forgot how to breathe.
A deliveryman had transported the letter to my house after he confirmed my identity and signature. He gave a cheery smile and wave as he walked out the door. I wondered if he knew what kind of letter he’d just delivered, or if he was oblivious to the threat of my pending demise. I can’t imagine anyone would be happy delivering that kind of news, but what did I know? There were sick individuals who got their jollies off in weird ways.
The words on the parchment had literal flames dancing mockingly on a black background as I re-read through the summons. I felt scorching heat teasing the tips of my fingers and realized it generated from the letter. If I stuck my fingers too close they’d be burned to a crisp. As careful as possible, I commanded my hand to let go of the letter and lay it down on the table. It took a few tries for my body to listen to my mental screams, but eventually my hands were free.
When was I supposed to face these charges? I leaned over and quickly scanned the parchment again. Looking at the clock, I realized I had less than an hour to present myself to Hades. Shit. No pressure or anything.
The club was pitch black when I arrived with just five minutes to spare. How was I supposed to present myself to Hades if there was nowhere for me to go? What would happen to me if they thought I didn’t show up? Would it be an automatic sentence to the Underworld? I heard rumors Hade’s was an asshole, and I really didn’t want to test the theory by missing my hearing.
I climbed out of my car and headed over to the dark entrance to the club. My palms felt damp and I wiped them on my jeans while mentally telling myself to stop freaking out. The worst case scenario was getting sent to the Underworld to spend the rest of my immortal existence. It didn’t say they’d torture me during that time, so it probably just sounded worse than it was. If I controlled a paranormal government, and I wanted to terrify people into compliance, I’d make everything sound like impending doom, even if it wasn’t.
I took a deep, calming breath and knocked three times on the door. The sound seemed to echo in the parking lot and I looked around to see if there was anyone else. Not even a cricket sounded. The entire situation felt creepy and ominous. I didn’t like feeling like some girl in a B-horror movie where the audience is screaming ‘“_don’t do that_”’ and the killer is right behind the door. Or when the main character hears something and calls out ‘“Hello?”’ Do they expect the killer to respond with ‘“Yeah, I’m down here with a knife. Want to join me?”’ The whole situation just felt like a movie and I didn’t like it. This wasn’t a movie; this was my life. I quite enjoyed living in the mortal world, with my magic intact, with my physical body.
The door creaked open slowly and the interior was dark except near the bar. Backlighting illuminated the long counter, and there was a man standing there. He wore a black shirt snug against his muscular chest. His ash blonde hair was spiky at the top, and gave off a boyish appearance. He looked up at my approach, and I saw bright blue eyes framed by gorgeous, long black lashes. Wow. His bottom lip was full and appeared to be crimson in the lighting. A defined chin. Distinctive cheekbones. Milky, pale skin.
“You’re late, Samantha.” If his voice could have been a temperature, it would have been an icy storm, crackling like hail against a window in a blizzard. Yikes. It was still sexy, but uncontrollable chills raced up and down my spine. I glanced down at the phone in my hand to verify the time.
“I’m not late. I was here five minutes ago. Your parking lot is dark. There were no further instructions on where to go and the club itself looks closed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t rushing to the door in the dark after getting a creepy ass letter outlining the ways I could pay for my transgressions. Please forgive me, Your Highness.” The sarcastic response just rolled off my tongue before I could stop it. My brain and mouth had no filter and it got me into a lot of trouble. But I really didn’t need this crap from some work jockey on a power trip.
His stare became intense and he scoped me out from top to bottom. It was like he suddenly found me interesting and the feeling was unnerving. Having an intensely, sexual Ice Prince stare at you like he’s suddenly hungry was nerve-wracking. I caught myself fidgeting under his perusal and commanded my body to stop. I met his stare with a challenging one of my own. I would not back down. If I got struck down in the process, so be it. But I wasn’t some nilly willy flower to be trampled over, and I really didn’t care what this guy thought of me.
When I boldly met his stare, he smiled. A very sharp smile. Wow, he had fangs. Great, I had just provoked a bloodsucker. I hope he didn’t have a favorite blood type, like say O negative.
“Can we just get this over with? Where am I supposed to go to meet Hades?” I wasn’t particularly looking forward to meeting the God everyone claimed was a dick, but at the same time I didn’t like the intensity of this vampire. His whole persona screamed ‘I’m a hot immortal asshole whom you’ll despise, but you’ll still want to jump in the sack with.’ And you could tell he knew it, too. God only knows how many women an immortal vampire had been with. I was not interested. Really.
“Hades isn’t here.” His grin widened, and with a little snap of his teeth he continued, “I’ll be substituting for him tonight.”
Great. I had just pissed off the hired help. The one who’d be deciding my fate. Foot, meet mouth. I gave him a small, sheepish smile, “Oh. Sorry about that. I don’t have a filter. Can we start over?”
He shook his head and my heart sank as he continued, “I’ve already decided your punishment and Hades agreed with it.”
Great, I was going to get drained dry as this man’s delicious dinner and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye.
The silence stretched on until I couldn’t take it anymore, “And? What is my punishment?”
He tapped a finger to his chin as if in deep thought. “You’ll be charged with a misdemeanor offense.” My heart started to slow again. I wasn’t going to be sent to the Underworld. Thank Hades. His next words had me swallowing, “After you’ve paid your two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, you’ll be cleared of all charges. You have twenty-four hours to return your payment to me.”
“Doesn’t that seem to be a steep punishment? Who has that kind of money just lying around? Nothing happened. Sassy didn’t get hurt, and since then she’s been turned into a wolf shifter and found her eternal mate. What about the good of the situation? Doesn’t that count for anything?” How was I to pay that kind of money? Did other immortals just have this kind of cash tucked away in their mansions? I sure as hell didn’t. I lived in a little studio apartment and some months I just barely squeaked by.
His tone was mocking, “It’s not a steep punishment. Your actions with the human put Hades into a tight spot. He now owes an unknown witch a favor, one to be determined by her at a time of his choosing. He had to swear on the River Styx, which is an unbreakable promise. So the punishment might seem steep to you, but to Hades? You’re lucky he’s not sending your ass to the Underworld and torturing you for the next hundred years.”
“And what happens if I can’t afford the payment? I don’t know many people who have a quarter million just floating around.”
He gave me a pitying look. “If you can’t make the payment, you get stripped of your magic and sent to the Underworld until Hades feels your debt has been paid in full. To be honest, the last situation similar to this, the person couldn’t pay it and he’s still down there, a hundred years later.”
My heart sank. Come up with an ungodly amount of money or rot in the equivalent of hell. The only way I could come up with that amount of moola would be to rob a bank, and with my luck I’d probably get shot and killed in the process. Choices, choices. What was the least offensive outcome out of my available options?
“Although, there is another alternative. You don’t strike me as an individual who would take a different option like this, however. Might be a bit too much for what I imagine your standards are.” He eyed my designer outfit with judgment written all over his face. So what? I liked nice things. Nothing wrong with a witch looking her best. Wait, there was something else he hadn’t mentioned yet.
“What is the alternative? You don’t know what my standards are. You might be surprised. Tell me what options I have.” At this point, I’d take anything besides having to pay a huge fine or rotting in hell and being tortured. Nothing could be worse than losing my magic or my life.
“Financially, I’m well off. I’m an immortal and have accumulated more money than I could ever spend in my long life. What I’m lacking is a passionate lover who likes to give as much as she likes to receive. I don’t want just a quick fuck. I want blinding passion. Heat. The world falling away. You strike me as a match just waiting to combust with the right touch. The kind of sexual hunger I’m looking for. Spend the night with me, and I’ll pay your fine to Hades right now.”
He pulled out a briefcase and slid it across the bar counter. He popped open the locks. It was completely full of hundred dollar bills. If I had to guess, I would say that was my entire fine. Wait, how did this guy just happen to have this kind of cash on hand? Like he knew he was going to make this offer before I even showed up?
“How did you have this cash ready to go, like you knew you were going to offer me this?” His grin could have melted panties. “Because I had to do a profile on you before this meeting. I already knew what I wanted. I want you in my bed. I promise it will be pleasurable for us both. Let me feel your heat tonight.” He licked his top fang as his direct, blue eyes fucked me in every position possible.
What were my possibilities now? One: Death & Torture. Two: Hefty fines. Three: Scorching sex with an immortal lover. No matter what this vampire thought of me, I wasn’t a prude. I could enjoy a no strings romp through the sheets with the right guy. Hopefully he was as good in bed as he looked. Would hate to get a dud in the bedroom. Though the alternative was still better than torture.
I tilted my head to the side and gave him a full body scan. I waited until he started to fidget a bit before I gave him my answer, “Okay, but first I want to know your name.”
His mouth dropped open for a moment, like I’d surprised him. “My name is Onyx.”
He quickly recovered and jumped over the counter with supernatural speed, and before I knew it I was getting an up close visual of his rugged features up front and personal. He backed me up against a nearby wall. One hand reached up to grip the back of my hair. He gave a slight tug and pulled my face up to receive a sharp kiss. He gently nicked my lower lip with his fangs and groaned as he licked the pooled bead of blood.
“You taste like magic. Delicious. Wild. Free. Scrumptious.”
At his words, I grabbed his face to pull him down for a deeper kiss. I bit down on his lower lip, encouraging him to lose all control.
He reached around to grab my ass, and with one strong pull he ripped my skirt from me.
The power needed to do that had my arousal trickling to pool in the black lace panties I wore.
His hands traced along the material and he broke away from the kiss to kneel down in front of me. “This is going to be a fun night.” He leaned in to rub his face against my mound, and with a growl that sent shivers down my spine, he used his fangs to savagely rip off my panties. He spread my legs and propped one on his shoulder, before he ravenously licked and flicked his tongue at my core.
I grabbed his head to hold him there as his fingers joined his mouth. He sucked on my sensitive clit while he finger fucked me. The intense pleasure had me biting my hand to keep from screaming out as I rotated my hips uncontrollably.
I could feel an orgasm building up and I wanted to tell him to stop because I couldn’t take it. But, at the same time, I craved the release he was offering.
Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. Fast forward, and a climax hit me so hard that my shrieks could be heard through my hand.
Suddenly he was in front of me and I almost fell over from the lack of support, my rippling climax still raging through my body. He leaned in to give me a bruising, wet kiss.
I licked his lips, tasting my juices running freely on his chin. Sweet and salty.
He used one hand to free his shaft from his pants. “Put your legs around my waist,” he commanded.
Without question I did as he asked. Big hands reached around to cup my buttocks, and in one smooth motion his cock was buried deep inside. The fullness I felt was a mixture of pain and pleasure.
His masculine, husky groan had me reaching out to grip his shoulders. I dug my nails in. “Are you going to fuck me or stand here in contemplation for the rest of the night?”
Onyx gave a small laugh and his blue-eyed gaze met mine. “Oh, we are going to fuck for the rest of the night. You’ll be contemplating me for more than this one night.”
He was thrusting into me with blurring speed before I even knew what was happening. Holy shit. This was like riding a fake bronco at one of those country bars. Only this bronco was very much alive and appeared to have the same intensity as a wild bull.
I held on tight and tried to muffle my shrieks by burying my face into his shoulders. I’d never had sex like this before, and I had a feeling this vampire had ruined me for any future men. The feel of his cock sliding in and out of me at a rapid tempo had another orgasm building up. This time I bit down as hard as I could on his shoulders. In less than a minute I felt his fangs penetrating my neck. He drank a few small pulls before he roared out his own release. His big body gave a shudder, and I felt goosebumps break out on my skin.
What an erotic sight to see a man lose complete control. There was nothing sexier than knowing I had made him lose it.
“Wow. That was definitely worth not getting sent to the Underworld.” I began to look around for something to cover up with when he gave a mocking laugh.
His gorgeous eyes met mine, “You didn’t think we were done, did you? We’ve got all night and there are many things I’d like to teach you, little witch.”
My body gave a full shiver at the dark promise in his tone.
Who knew casting a spell would have such sweet consequences?
Isis Pierce is possessed by the spirit of an ancient Egyptian fertility god. But that’s beside the point…she’d cheerfully pen smutty tales even without his influence. A former Librarian, Isis has recently decided to change careers and put her vast experience of all things naughty into your hot little hands. Careful, she just might set your e-reader on fire.
Find more of Isis on or sign up to her .
Alex pulled into a parking spot and shifted his car into park. A smile slipped over his face as he stared at room 209. Enid’s car was a few spaces down from his. She was in there and waiting for him.
He shifted in his seat as his cock twitched and strained against the confines of his jeans. In a few short weeks he’d fallen head over heels for the gorgeous she-wolf. Enid wasn’t a fling, he was in love with her, and she was his mate.
Alex shut off the car and hopped out, strutting towards the door. He wiped his palms on his jeans as he reached out and twisted the metal knob.
Enid stood, peering at her reflection in the mirror. Alex growled in his throat as he took in the bewitching wolf. Her long auburn hair fell in soft curls, covering her bare breasts. Her round ass greeted him, begging to be spanked. He shoved the door shut behind him and flicked the lock.
“You’re late,” she told him as she met his gaze in the mirror.
“I can see that,” he replied as he appraised her. Damn she looks better than I remember.
“You’re staring,” she sassed with a grin.
“It’s hard not to.” He strode to her as she spun around. His hands went to her waist and he lifted her onto the counter.
Her fingers went to the hem of his shirt and she yanked it off him. “I need you, Alex,” she breathed as her fingers went to the fly of his jeans.
“It’s been too long,” he agreed as he wiggled out of his pants.
“You didn’t call me on Monday,” she reprimanded as her silky fingers wrapped around his cock.
Alex closed his eyes and grunted. “My dad—”
“Let’s not talk about them right now,” she said as she crushed her lips against his.
Alex threaded his fingers through Enid’s hair as she continued to stroke his length. She rolled her thumb over his tip and he groaned. If she kept this up he’d be coming in no time, and there was no way he was coming before she did.
He grabbed her wrist and she whimpered as she released his throbbing cock. “I need to be inside you, Enid,” he said as he met her eyes.
Enid scooted her ass closer to his straining member until the tip pressed against her glistening center. “What’s stopping you?”
Alex grinned. “I love you,” he whispered as he slid inside of her.
Enid’s eyes widened, whether from his admission or the joining of their bodies he didn’t know, nor did he care at the moment. He buried himself to the hilt, letting her core envelop him like a glove.
Alex peppered kisses to her shoulders as he set a slow, steady rhythm.
Enid wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted her pelvis, drawing him even deeper. Her nails glided up and down his back, scratching enough to leave a mark. His wolf yipped at the idea of her marking him. Enid was his mate, his true love, and he wanted to show her.
He ghosted his lips up her neck and across her jawline and licked her lips. She opened her mouth and he slipped his tongue inside, grazing it over her teeth. Enid moaned into his mouth as she clenched him tighter with her thighs.
One of his hands went to her breast. He found her sensitive bud and pinched it, causing her to gasp.
“Do you like that?” he purred against her mouth.
“Yes,” she hissed as she wiggled her hips.
Alex pumped against her harder, enjoying the way she called out his name in time to his thrusts. Her thighs gripped him tighter and he tweaked her breast again as his free hand slid between their sweat-slicked bodies to her clit. He flicked his thumb over the tiny bundle of nerves and Enid screamed out his name.
Her inner walls milked his cock, spurring on his release. His length twitched and his seed spilled inside of her. Alex placed light kisses against her lips as she melted into him.
He brushed her matted hair out of her face and met her eyes as they fluttered open. “Do you forgive me for not calling?” he asked as he kissed her nose.
She bit her lip as she grinned. “I’m starting to.”
“How can I make it up to you?” he asked as he pressed his forehead against hers.
“You can take me out for pizza,” she replied as she shoved him away with a laugh.
“You don’t want to order in?” he questioned with a pout. He’d been hoping they could go a few more rounds before they both had to leave again.
Enid slid off the counter and sauntered over to her clothes that were folded neatly on the bed. She beamed as she slipped her lacy thong on followed by her matching bra.
A loud knock on the door caused them both to whip their heads to the rumbling metal entrance.
“Alex, I know you’re in there!” his father’s voice hollered. “Open the door or I’ll break it.”
Enid tossed her clothes on as Alex hopped into his jeans. He knew his dad would find out about Enid sometime, but he didn’t want him to find out like this.
“Alex,” Enid whispered as he passed her. Her fingers wrapped around his elbow.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised though his voice lacked conviction. Enid’s pack and his were enemies. She’d had to jump through hoops to be allowed onto his pack’s land so she could attend the police academy.
He placed his hands on the lock and twisted it. This wasn’t going to go well.
Enid sunk onto the plush mattress with a sigh as the hotel door slammed shut. Her heart hammered in her chest and angry tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Alex paced the worn, blue carpet in front of her as he ran a hand through his disheveled locks.
“What do we do?” she asked breaking the silence.
Her dad was waiting in his car in the parking lot for her. He’d given her ten minutes to collect her things, get in her car, and follow him home. If she didn’t come, he’d leave without her and she’d be banished from the pack for life.
“Don’t go,” Alex said, stopping his frantic walk. He knelt down and clasped her hands with his. “Stay.”
“Do you think your dad was serious?” she whispered as she swallowed the thick lump in her throat. His father had threatened the same thing. Go figure, the two men hated each other, but they’d come together to break the two of them up.
Alex looked away and nodded.
“Mine too,” she admitted.
“We could make it,” Alex whispered.
“On our own?” Enid wondered with a gasp. “Where would we go? We can’t trespass on any pack lands any where in the world. If we did we could be hunted down—killed. We’d never be able to settle or have a family. What kind of life would that be?”
The werewolf law would make it almost impossible for them to find a place to live. There were hundreds of packs all over the United States. Each pack had their own land and would protect it from outsiders with force. Pack territories took up most of the landmass in the United States. Any place that wasn’t occupied was less than desirable. She’d never been overseas, but heard things were more vicious over there.
“I…” Alex trailed off as he slapped his hand on the mattress beside her. They both knew what they had to do, but neither wanted to say it.
“There is nowhere for us to go and they know it,” Enid muttered through gritted teeth. They would have to separate.
“I’m not ready to give up on us, Enid,” Alex said as he grasped her hand again.
“I’m not either,” she said as she gripped his hands tighter. “Tell me how we can make this work?”
Alex opened his mouth and he closed it again. “We can drift. We’ll find something eventually,” he insisted.
“Okay,” Enid agreed. She might be nineteen, but she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Alex. He was her mate. The wolf inside her could feel the connection between them.
The door to the hotel room burst open again, slamming against the wall. Alex jumped up and spun around as his father entered.
“Are you ready yet?” his father demanded.
“No,” Alex replied.
“No?” his dad questioned.
“I’m not coming home,” Alex told him.
“The two of you plan to make a go of it on your own?” he sneered.
His dad’s eyes darted to her and Enid swallowed under his scrutinizing gaze. “Yes,” she whispered. It’s crazy, but I can’t imagine living my life without Alex.
The old man threw his head back and cackled loudly as if she’d told him the funniest joke in the world.
“There is no where for you to go,” he told them as his gaze drifted between them. “Your refusal is suicide. Don’t be stupid, Alex. If you won’t think of yourself, then think of her.” He pointed at Enid. “By leaving you’re denying her the right to settle down and have a family.”
“You can’t make us go with you,” Alex argued.
“You’re right. I can’t,” his dad agreed. “But I will make sure that you have no place to go. I have connections all over the globe,” his father reminded. “If you leave with her you will no longer be my son. You will have no pack to call home.”
“Do you hate her father so much that you would punish us? That you would make sure we had nowhere to go and doom us to death? Enid isn’t her father. She has done nothing to you,” Alex bellowed.
“She has her father’s blood. That is all that matters,” his dad hissed. “I should’ve never allowed her to attend the academy to begin with. I certainly never imagined this would happen.”
Enid swallowed as she stood up and walked to her overnight bag. She collected her things as she stuffed them inside. If she stayed with Alex she would be happy, but for how long? Days, weeks, months, it wouldn’t be years. Their time would be numbered without a pack to house them. That was the way their world worked. If she could get her father alone, maybe she could convince him. He’d always been reasonable until now.
“Enid?” Alex questioned.
“We don’t have a choice,” she told him as she bit back tears. Without a pack, without a place to call home, they would be wanderers. Their inner wolves would go insane. Not to mention, wolves would hunt them down if they trespassed onto pack territory and then there was the witches. God forbid they stumbled onto their territory allotted by the treaty in place for decades. It was no life to live.
“At least one of you is using common sense. I guess that is a quality you did not get from your father,” Alex’s dad muttered.
Enid drew in a deep breath and let it out as she marched to the older man. “You don’t know anything about me,” she hissed. “You and my father are just alike. Putting your own feud between Alex and me. Shame on you for splitting up two people who love each other; you’re too narrow-minded to see beyond your hate. I’m not my father and Alex isn’t you.”
“Get out!” the man snapped. His finger jutted toward the door.
Enid held his gaze a few moments longer before turning to Alex. Her bottom lip trembled and she wasn’t sure she could speak with the thick lump lodged in her throat. She took his hand and placed a kiss to his lips. “I love you,” she whispered. “I’ll speak to my father again when we get home. Maybe once we are there, I can help him see reason.”
“I hope so,” Alex said, capturing her lips again.
Enid breathed in his scent until he was ripped away from her. “Enough,” Alex’s dad ordered as he put himself between them. “Out!”
“We will see each other again,” she promised Alex. Somehow, someway they would find each other. She placed her hands on her lips, savoring his lingering kiss for as long as possible. I don’t know when I’m going to feel his lips on mine again.
Alex nodded. “I love you.”
Enid gathered her bag on her shoulder as she shot one last glare at one of the men forcing them to separate. “This isn’t over,” she promised. A love like theirs would never die. They just had to find a way.
Bethany Shaw has always dreamed of being an author. When she isn’t writing, she is spending time with her family. They enjoy bike rides, soccer, reading, and going to the movies.
Find more of Bethany on or sign up for her
Club Stratosphere Application for Dungeon Partnering. Alexandra sat in the shade beneath the big maple tree in her front yard, laptop balanced on her knees as she stared at unopened the email from the Club’s administration. She had filled out the application in minute detail a week ago. Curiosity picked at her, egging Lexa on to open the much anticipate email, but she couldn’t. Had this decision been the right one?
Accessing her cloud based personal drive, Lexa opened the saved pdf of the application she submitted to the club. She skimmed the five-page document, ensuring that every field had contained the requisite text or check mark indicating her likes and dislikes, soft and hard limits, safety and aftercare protocols. Everything. The application left no stone unturned, no detail uncovered. There was zero room for error or misunderstanding left over once their questions were answered. A good thing, considering the service they offered—pairing her up with a Dominant suited to the specific list of needs and desires listed on pages two and three.
Four weeks ago, Lexa had come forward and confessed to her husband about her desire, her need, to submit. Looking back on that disastrous day, she knew it was something that should have been done long before then. Telling Barry that she was a submissive and about her lifestyle preferences should have been addressed early on in their relationship, definitely before their engagement and subsequent wedding.
Wiping a rogue tear from her cheek, Lexa shook her head to dispel the ugly memory of the discussion that ended her marriage. What was done, was done. The only way to move was forward, and the email sitting in her inbox was her way of doing just that—moving forward. With a series of quick swipes across the trackpad, Lexa closed the pdf and pulled up her email program. She moved the mouse pointed to hover over the unopened email, took a deep, steadying breath, and clicked.
Welcome to Club Stratosphere, Angel. Your application has been approved.
She read the first line, closing her eyes after seeing the approval, and tilted her head against the back of her lounge chair. Approved. Forward. Here I go. Letting out a slow breath, Lexa opened her eyes and continued to read. The email contained details about the dominant matched to her based on the criterion provided in the application. Sir Daniel, a sadist who favored the use of a single tail whip but was proficient with a host of other implements designed to offer whatever degree of pain required by the masochist under his care.
Alexandra continued to read through the email which contained a detailed listing of the dominant’s skills, several glowing recommendations from previous submissives and a photograph of Sir Daniel. Saliva pooled in her mouth as she looked him over. The man was built like a god. Tall, broad shouldered and narrow waisted, not an inch of him wasn’t covered in muscle. Light blue jeans hung from his hips, the deep grooves on either side of his abdomen dipping into the unbuttoned waistband. His arms were crossed, thick biceps and strong forearms holding a coiled whip against the heavy slabs of his chest.
A hood covered Sir Daniel’s head, concealing his identity, but that was fine by her. The man could look like a troll under the mask for all she cared, as long as he could provide what she needed. Pain. Control. Release. It had been too long since she felt any of those. The craving for them deep enough to bring Lexa to her knees, or to fill out an application such as the one which brought her to where she was, reading the stats card of a dominant chosen by unknown people to fulfill her wishes.
The final line of the email contained instructions should she wish to schedule a session to determine if she and Sir Daniel were a compatible match. All she had to do was reply to the email with the word ‘Accepted’ in the subject line. She would then receive an invitation containing a prescribed date and time to meet him at the club for a trial session. Provided their time together went well, and both were amenable to the match, they would then be free to set a schedule that suited their needs.
Alexandra swiped her finger over the trackpad, tapped the ‘Reply’ button and typed “Accepted” into the subject line. She hit ‘Send’ and sat back, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized was trapped in her chest. It was done. Now, she waited and would let the cards fall where they may.
He stood in the private room, the quiet broken only by the soft thud of bass from the music playing out in the main room of the club. His fingers lovingly traced the leather strapping of the single tail’s handle where it rested against his right pectoral.
The door opened and the face of Emilia, the club’s pixie-like door girl, popped through the gap. “She’s on her way,” she informed him with a wide grin, her lavender eyes flashing. Emilia gave a little clap and bounced giddily, like a kid who’d just been handed her favorite candy. “You’re going to cream yourself when you see her, Sir. She’s stunning.”
Sir Daniel nodded, the hood negating his need to smile. She wouldn’t see it. He waited for the door to close and relaxed his arms, flexing his gloved hands in an attempt to release some of the tension built up in his muscles. The door girl’s excitement over his prospective sub intrigued him. Probably more than he cared to admit. Standard protocol when a submissive was about to enter a private room was for the club surveillance team to signal via a small red, yellow and green light system above the door. Yellow indicated the sub was on their way, green meant they were just outside the door, and red meant the room was secured from intrusion by anyone other than security. Emilia’s breach of protocol set him on edge. What was so special about this girl that she inspired the other woman to break the rules? The green light flashed and he set the thoughts aside. He’d find out soon enough.
A faint buzz indicated the door locks were disengaged, and Sir Daniel rose to his full height of six-foot-one, his shoulders squared. He braced his feet apart, hands clasped behind his back as he fixed his gaze intently on the door as it opened.
She stepped inside and, like a punch to the gut, stole his breath away. Sir Daniel sent up a small prayer of thanks for the mask he wore as he watched her enter the room. With her head held high and eyes downcast, she moved with the regal bearing of a queen. Back straight, breasts pushed forward, Angel—as her name was listed on the application—stopped mere inches away and held up her hands, offering him her wrists, bound in a set of leather cuffs.
He studied her from behind the safety of his mask, taking in the curve of the subs cheeks beneath the lip of her half mask, the slight catch in her breath as he brought a hand forward and traced the delicate line of her collarbones. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. The heavy globes, tipped with the most delicious little pink nipples he’d ever seen, tempted him, begged to be lashed until they glowed a lovely shade of red.
Sir Daniel stood behind her, removed his gloves and gave a sharp snap of his fingers. With the graceful movements of a dancer, she dropped to her knees and spread them wide. She clasped her hands beneath the thick coil of a dark brown bun at the back of her head, her back straight and the sexy curve of her ass lifted precisely six inches from the floor. Fuck, she’s perfect, he thought as he circled her, admiring the beautiful creature that she was as Angel knelt at his feet and submitted to his commands with the ease of someone born to it.
Uncoiling his whip, he tapped the underside of her chin with the leather wrapped handle. Angel tilted her face up, her eyes following his gaze as he looked over at the frame setup in a corner of the room. She turned her eyes back to him and gave a single dip of her head to indicate her consent. He snapped his fingers again and she rose, crossing to the apparatus. Arms aloft and legs spread, she held still as he clipped her restraints to the loops provided.
He stepped back to his preferred striking distance, the length of his whip sliding through his fingers as he studied her. Would she scream, moan or beg when the whip bit into her skin? There was only one way to find out. Pulling his right arm back, he flicked his wrist and let the whip fly. The leather slithered through the air, cracking as it snapped against the curve of her right butt cheek.
Angel’s back bowed with the impact, a soft gasp slipping from her plump pink lips as her body danced for him. He drew back, redirecting the whip to the other side as he let loose again. Their agreement was for a series of ten lashes as a test, and Sir Daniel secretly wished he’d negotiated for more as he watched her take what he dished without much more than the breathy sounds she made with each impact.
The woman was a beautiful submissive, and an exquisite little masochist. She followed his orders effortlessly, and with grace. She took the pain he doled out, and turned it into a thing of beauty. He let loose the tenth, and final stroke, coiling the whip around his torso as he strode to the frame and released her. She leaned into him, and Sir Daniel lifted the slight woman into his arms, cradling her to his chest in a princess hold as he carried her to the cot set up across the room.
Settled on the camp bed, he placed a fingertip beneath her chin and tiled her face up to his. Warm brown eyes met his green ones and she gave him a small smile, nodding in the agreed upon signal that she accepted him. Sir Daniel smiled back, his own head tilting in acknowledgment. He curled a hand around the back of her head, tucking it against his chest, and reached for the blanket, wrapping it around her. His submissive. He knew it was wrong to think of her in such a manner, but Sir Daniel instinctively knew that he wouldn’t—he couldn’t—let any of the other house Dom’s touch her. There was something about Angel. Something he knew that only he could give the petite brunette. Something that called to him—the Dominant, the sadist, the man.
Danielle Gavan lives in Ontario, Canada with her two sons. Danielle has been writing in her spare time since she was in middle school. She is currently writing part time. Readers are welcome to visit her website on or .
Michelle “Mitchy” Tigris stared at her bedroom ceiling. Her gaze focused on the dark water stain on the ceiling directly above her head. She had talked to Brett about repainting it, but after their last conversation, he’d been making up excuses not to see her. Damn that man! She would have to call him again tomorrow morning, or she could call him now. Apartment managers were on-call twenty-four seven, but if she called, Brett might insist on staying over tonight. Well, it wouldn’t be bad if he did. It was just that he’d probably want to talk about their situation again.
It had been a week since she’d had him in her bed. She wanted the man, yeah. He knew what she wanted and never left her half-full. However, there was that part of her that Brett couldn’t fill.
As she stared at the ceiling, the stain began to fade, replaced by images of the man whom she wanted most of all. James Huntington.
Since that day James walked in the office wearing dark green cargo pants and a white short-sleeve polo shirt, his hair windblown and laughing at something the owner was saying, Mitchy had lost her heart to him. Oh, James carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence and oozed sex appeal that had woken up every part of her. Then, he winked at her. She would never forget that.
It had been a simple flirty gesture and yet changed everything around her—the sound of the seaplanes turned into music, the sun brighter, and she felt beautiful. James had that initial impact on her. So, when she learned he’d be one of the pilots at Kenmore Air where she worked as a receptionist, she thought Fate had finally paid attention to her and granted her wish.
With Mitchy, it was love at first sight. A feeling she thought would remain foreign to her forever.
She glanced at the clock. Ten at night, but sleep hadn’t visited her yet. Maybe she should see her psychiatrist again. Her antidepressant had been doing its job helping her sleep. Lately, though, its effect had diminished. She noticed sadness started enveloping her heart again and her freezer was once again full of Ben and Jerry’s Coffee Buzz Buzz. Not good.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. She wished she could just stop thinking about James and accept what Brett had been offering. Unfortunately, her heart wouldn’t listen. Damn.
Feeling the frustration setting in, Michelle got off the bed and padded her way into the kitchen. One of the many good things about living alone was she could walk around the apartment wearing practically nothing. Like tonight. She wore her favorite see-through cropped cami and white mesh panties.
Turning on the kitchen lights, she stared at her fridge. Just a couple scoops of ice cream might help her find sleep. It contained milk, yeah? Milk was believed to help one fall asleep. Okay, just a taste to satisfy her craving and she’d be good.
Opening her freezer, she took out a container of ice cream. “Hello there, Ben and Jerry. Long time no taste.” Michelle laughed. Quickly, she opened her drawer and took a spoon out.
Her psychiatrist had once asked her why she loved ice cream. Michelle replied that it soothes and relaxes her. Partly true. What she didn’t mention was its effect on her body. Ice cream made her hot, her heart beat faster. It made her want to lie down in bed with nothing on.
She sat on the couch then began eating. With each spoonful of ice cream, her body temperature rose. Oh, she loved it. Michelle propped her feet on the coffee table then leaned back. Maybe, someday, she’d be able to share a quart of ice cream with James. Right now, though, Brett was the only one accessible.
Brett Randalls grinned when he saw the name on his cell phone’s screen. He could think of many reasons why Mitchy would be calling him. At past ten at night, though… He had a pretty good idea why she called. He let his cell phone ring one more time before picking it up.
“Quite late don’t you think, darling?”
“You’re the only available maintenance guy in the complex. Can you come over?”
Brett’s cock thickened as soon as he heard Mitchy’s soft voice. Oh, hell yeah. He’d bet his dick she was already hot and wet. “Something’s broken?”
“You already know what needs to be done around here,” Mitchy replied, almost mewling.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Brett finished his can of Coors, then stood up. He’d showered fifteen minutes ago. All he had to do was change his clothes and he’d head over to Mitchy’s.
He’d known her for two years now. Twenty-nine years old, about five feet and two inches tall with muscled thighs, dark-haired that she often colored with light brown highlights, been working at a seaplane company for years, and single. She kept to herself, never had friends or relatives that came for a visit because most of them lived outside the state of Washington. Mitchy was a lonely, beautiful woman he wanted to share his life with. He loved her and wanted more than just keeping her company on a night like this. However, her heart belonged to someone else. She told him that, which he didn’t like much.
Just as he had suspected, Mitchy needed him for something that didn’t require a wrench, hammer, or nails. Although, he wouldn’t hesitate to use those if she was up for it. Brett grinned at the thought, then closed the front door. He leaned against it while he stared at Mitchy who sat on the couch with her legs propped on the table. She met his gaze. Her hair was down and she wore sexy clothes that left nothing to imagination.
His cock throbbed. Good fucking God. He needed strength to last tonight.
“Evening. I see you had your late snack already.”
“I have more if you want some.”
Brett could see the dark patch through her panties. Fuck! He wanted to snack on that. It had been days since he’d tasted her. “I don’t think ice cream and beer would go well together.” Slowly, he walked toward Mitchy. He could see the rise and fall of her chest. The shape of her breasts and hard nipples were visible through her top. Fuck. He loved sucking those delicious tits.
The strong need to unbutton his fly and whip out his already thick cock made him grit his teeth. He needed to slow down. The purpose of his coming here wasn’t all about his own satisfaction. He loved this woman, and he would give her whatever she needed to make her happy. Didn’t matter that she’d already told him about another man occupying her heart. A man who was clueless about Mitchy’s feelings for him. Yeah, he’d let her go if that would fulfill her dreams.
“Are you just going to stand there or join me here on the couch?”
“I like the view.” As soon as he pushed off the door, he took his shirt off, then hung it on the chair. He unbuttoned his fly, but kept his pants on. “Consider my offer and you won’t have to call late at night.”
“Brett, please.” Mitchy held out her hand.
Brett moved Mitchy’s leg so he could sit on the coffee table in front of her. “Please stop or please…what?” With her legs on each side of him, he could really see her pubic hair and pussy through her mesh panties.
He ran his hands from Mitchy’s calf and up to her thighs. “So smooth.” He leaned forward to kiss her moist lips. She met him half way. Their tongues dueled, and their breaths mingled, fueling his already burning need.
Brett ended the kiss, then stared at Mitchy. “You’re beautiful, you know,” he said, then snaked his hands inside her top to cup her breasts.
Mitchy licked her lips and covered his hands with hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too, love.”
With their gazes locked, he went down on his knees, then began to kiss the insides of her thighs. He sucked her hard until he drew blood on the surface of her skin. Fuck, he wanted to do that to her clit, to her breasts, and everywhere he could touch her.
“Yes, love. I know.” He wrapped his hands around Mitchy’s ass, then pulled her closer to the edge of the couch. His cock throbbed at the sight of her panties, already wet. Unable to control himself, he pressed his mouth on her crotch, then he licked her. With Mitchy’s juice and his saliva, the thin material of her panties was soaked right away. Brett’s heart pumped so fast. He loved her taste and smell.
“Brett, come on…”
Oh, he knew what she wanted. So he gave it. He sucked her clit.
Mitchy gripped his hair. “Oh, yes.”
Brett groaned at the sweet feeling of having her small sensitive flesh at the roof of his mouth, but it wasn’t enough. Oh, he wanted more. Hooking his fingers on the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down. “Fuck yeah.” He stared at Mitchy’s pussy for a heartbeat then lowered his mouth again to taste her.
His cock was rock hard and the head was already out of his briefs. Brett felt he’d go nuts if he didn’t claim her any time soon. However, he wanted to please Mitchy first. She loved it when he sucked and licked her pussy. Her favorite, she told him once, and he’d never forgotten it.
Using his two fingers, he penetrated her while he kept his mouth clamped on her clit. She tasted of heaven.
“Don’t let go, Brett. Don’t…please.”
He didn’t let go of her clit until Mitchy’s walls tightened around his fingers and she moaned his name. Brett loved it whenever she came. It made him happy. Damn, he really loved for this woman.
As soon as Mitchy’s body began to relax, Brett stood up to shuck his pants. He sat on the coffee table, then motioned for Mitchy to sit on his lap. She already knew what to do.
In that position, Brett was able to suck Mitchy’s nipples while she ground her hips, taking his cock deep into her sweet and wet pussy. He let her take control.
“Fuck, you’re good,” Brett whispered.
“I know. Ohh…”
“Come on, baby. Almost there.” Brett spanned Mitchy’s waist, then urged her to go faster. He couldn’t hold his orgasm at bay anymore. With a grunt, he released his seed.
Wrapped in a bed sheet, Mitchy stood beside the bed while watching Brett put his clothes on. Earlier, he had carried her into the bedroom where they made love two more times. Sleeping with Brett had been great, and if she’d be honest with herself, she cared for him, too. She would not, however, commit with him when another man occupied her heart.
“Call me.” Brett leaned to give Mitchy a soft quick kiss. “Anytime.”
“Will do.” She cupped Brett’s face with her hands and returned his kiss. “Brett, thank you for your understanding. I wish—”
“Baby, I know. Do whatever it is you want to do. Find answers to your heart’s questions. Take whatever steps you want to take to have the man of your dreams. Just remember though, no matter the result, I’ll always be here.”
“Brett…” Damn it! She wanted to cry, to scream. Here was a man who loved her, but she pined for another. Why couldn’t she just look at Brett and be happy? So what if James looked like a god that fell on Earth? So what if he oozed with sex appeal, and so what if he made her want to wear new panties and bright red lipstick all the time? Why couldn’t she just ignore those qualities about James? Brett may not be as equally handsome, but he had great qualities, too, that any woman would fight to get. Could it be that she was just blinded by strong infatuation toward James that she misconstrued as love? Damn it. What should she do? Just let Fate dictate what her tomorrow should be? Or try to do something to make James see that she had feelings for him? Oh, God.
“I love you, Mitchy. Goodnight.”
Brett turned around and walked out of Mitchy’s bedroom. She just stood there and listened for the front door opening and closing. Mitchy swallowed. Brett had been someone she leaned on to for the past couple years. He loved her, too. She didn’t want to lose him. But…ugh!
With a heavy heart, Mitchy went back to bed and stared at the dark stain on the ceiling again. Just like the confusion in her heart, she needed to remove her uncertainty. Then, and only then, she’d be able to see clearly. Maybe all this pining and dreaming about James had been nothing but an infatuation gone bad. And maybe it had been Brett who truly resided in her heart all this time.
All this Time is a short story based on Michelle’s character in Always You
Tierney O’Malley always enjoyed writing stories—first on her school books, journals, and then to her first personal computer. Addicted to romance books, she dreamed of one day publishing her stories and sharing it to a wider audience. Totally Bound, in conjunction with other wonderful publishers—all listed on her page—have made her dream come true. She is the bestselling author of steamy Knight Brothers and Blue-eyed Four series. For more information about her upcoming releases, sign up for her .
Tierney loves to hear from readers. Email her at or visit her cyber home at .
Jordan looked out over the rolling hills and smiled in anticipation. Families were gathering on the hills, pitching tents and setting up RVs. Children gathered kindling from the thick forest while their parents dug fire pits and prepared grocery lists for the festivities. Her own pack traveled light, carrying what they needed on the backs of their motorcycles and foraging for the rest. They’d found an abandoned hunter’s cabin, deep in the woods, and claimed it as theirs. But they still need a space for their pack at the party and so several of her bears dutifully found stones and marked off a circle that was theirs and theirs alone.
It was a sleepy start to what would become the greatest celebration any of them had seen in twenty years. The Conclave was to begin tomorrow and none would ever forget it.
The Alpha Conclave had begun in the sleepy town of Bearfield. The heads of the bear clans from every part of the western United States, northern Mexico, and the Canadian Rockies were present. It was a once in a generation meeting, called by the Alpha of Bearfield to handle new business, settle old feuds, and to rekindle family ties that had been all but extinguished.
That was all well and good, but Jordan had her own agenda.
“My Lady, the preparations have begun,” said a voice at her side. It belonged to Cassie, her right-hand woman, the shortest bear shifter she’d ever seen. Most of the bear-blooded were tall and strapping. The men tended to be massively muscled while the woman were ample and curvy. Cassie was curvy all right, but hardly more than five feet tall. She wore glasses in her human form and dyed her hair a purple that reminded Jordan of the last fingers of sunset.
“Thank you, Cassie,” she said. “If it all goes the way I expect it to, I’ll be wed by the end of the Conclave.”
“He is so lucky,” Cassie said, her Californian accent making the most of the vowels.
She and Lady Jordan were a study in contrasts. Where Cassie was short and curvy and full of smiles, Jordan was tall and muscular and given more to frowning. Cassie was so white she could scarcely go in the sun without turning red, whereas Jordan’s skin was the same honey brown as her mother’s. Jordan felt a comfort around Cassie that she couldn’t find in the rest of her pack. Was it because of them all, Cassie represented the least threat to her? Being Alpha of the Furies meant that at any moment she could be challenged by the other women. It hadn’t happened in years, but the possibility of being challenged hung in the air unspoken at all times. All it would take was for one of her best fighters to come at her on a bad day, and all she had worked for and all she had built would come toppling down around her.
“How is the pack today, Cass?” Lady Jordan asked.
“Excited, mostly. None of us have ever been to a Conclave before. Spiderfoot wants to look for things to steal. Iron Jenny wants to enter the Tournament of Claws, with your blessing. Lexi and Sweet Katie are out looking for boys. And the rest are pretty much in it for the food, the drinks, and the party.”
Jordan sighed. “So no challenges today?” It would be a good day. She was sure of it.
“No challenges, my Lady,” Cassie chirped. Before she joined Jordan’s pack, she’d been a production assistant on a reality tv show. Something about her suggested that she wanted to be holding a clipboard and checking in with people over a walkie. Cassie was the best Beta she could have hoped for.
“What I need is a mate. A strong mate, with fire in his blood, to watch over me as I sleep. To have my back in a fight. To give good counsel when needed and to warm my bed at a moment’s notice.” And Jordan had just the man in the mind.
Cassie blushed at the mention of beds. She was remarkably innocent.
From the hill they stood on, they could see a parade of trucks and mobile homes and motorcycles stretching down the winding mountain road, headlights winking in the morning fog. How many people would show up at the Conclave? All were commanded, but some couldn’t make it. If it was a poor showing, it was as good as a vote of no confidence in the elders. It’d be trouble—bloody trouble—as a new generation of Alphas warred for their seats.
If Jordan hadn’t had her heart set on seizing her mate, she would’ve been at the front of the fight, silver sword in hand. But this was her chance to get her claws into Danny Morrissey once and for all.
“Tell me about him,” Cassie said, smiling shyly. “Your scent changes when you think about him, y’know? It goes all,” she waved her hands in the air, “girly.”
Jordan grinned. “The Elders say that we each have a fated mate, somewhere in the world. One person who is perfect for us, known only to the Great Bear herself. Finding that one person is a life’s work, but I swear I found him when I was only twelve. That’s when I met Danny Morrissey.”
Cassie gasped. “You’ve never said his name before. I know that guy. We’ve seen him around. He’s gigantic and, like, domesticated, right?” Her eyes were huge behind her glasses. Cassie wore her heart on her sleeve, unlike Jordan who said little and showed even less.
“He’s a city shifter. He has a job and an apartment and everything, though once we marry he’ll have to give all that up. He is joining my pack. I am not joining his. I’ve arranged it all with his parents.” She smiled wide at the thought of her plans finally coming together.
“But isn’t he an Alpha? How can you make him wed you?”
“Even an Alpha must obey the elders. I’ve convinced them that he’s turned his back on our kind. That marrying me, siring some cubs with me, is the only way to bring him back. The elders owe us—owe me—for all we’ve done for them lately. They agreed quite quickly.”
They met as children, in the dusty lands of Mercy Springs. The two of them and a handful of other shifter kids had fled terrible homes and forged their own pack, living like the Lost Boys of Neverland out of a treehouse. They hunted for food, fought and trained together. Danny was her first love and she his. For a few brief years, everything had been perfect.
Until they robbed a bank.
Robbing the bank had seemed like such a good idea. They needed money. And banks were where all the money was. Jordan had expected they’d use it to fortify their home, to turn a run-down clubhouse into something more like a farm where they could all live happily ever after.
The robbery went off without a hitch, but the money revealed cracks in their little family. Money meant freedom, after all. And for Jordan, that meant freedom from squalor, but for Danny it meant freedom from Jordan.
“You’re thinking about him again,” Cassie said.
“He had ten years to find his mate. That was the deal the council gave him. It’s been ten years now. He either comes to the Conclave with his mate tonight, or he’s mine.”
“Is that why you keep sending Spiderfoot to San Francisco?” Cassie asked. “To spy on him?”
Jordan nodded. “He’s slept with every woman in the city and none are his mate. None of them can give him what I did. He left me to find his future, but he didn’t realize then that I was his future.”
Jordan had a terrible itch in her bones. It was the full moon. She was always horny when the moon was full. Her need made her aggressive—more aggressive—and irritable.
“Cassie, I’m going into town. I need to take care of something. Make sure our girls do what’s needed.”
“Yes, my Lady,” Cassie said, bowing low in deference.
Jordan couldn’t see Danny like this. She needed to be relaxed. To be cool. He’d been around city girls for a decade. Those girls were stylish. They had conversational tricks. Jordan had always been blunt when it came to speaking. It served her as Alpha just fine, but it had a habit of rubbing Danny the wrong way. If she met him in the state she was now, they’d likely end up snapping at each other. She spent too much time bossing around her pack. Her girls might follow orders, but an Alpha like Danny never would.
She needed to scratch her itch before Danny arrived.
The only solution then was to go to town and find some local for a roll in the hay.
Sebastian sat in the Growler and nursed a root beer. He wasn’t twenty-one yet and everyone in town knew who he was. His father was the Alpha of Bearfield, the big man on the mountain. Sebastian had inherited his strength, his build, and his character, but not his supernatural gifts. He was bear-blooded, but no shifter, and faced with the prospect of attending his first ever Conclave, he drank.
The Growler was Bearfield’s finest and only roadhouse. They served food that stuck to your ribs and drinks that knocked you on your ass. Even the homemade root beer was good. His aunt ran the place with the help of a team of orphaned werewolves. It was a long story. Sebastian spent most of his time at the Growler, propped up on a stool, chatting with the wolves or reading a book. He enjoyed the way the mountain light shone through the stained glass windows and painted the long wooden table in dappled reds and oranges.
Tomorrow he’d be at his father’s side, walking the Conclave to meet and greet the far flung clans of bears. And each and every Alpha would look upon him with pity in their eyes, knowing that he should have been born a shifter. It wasn’t his fault of course. These things happen. But that didn’t soften the blow. He’d be at his father’s side, running a gauntlet of recrimination, right up until the ceremonies began, and then he’d be barred with all of the other bear-blooded. Shifters only. No humans allowed.
He sighed into his drink, wishing again it was something harder and more alcoholic. And braced himself for what was to come.
The saloon doors to the Growler swung open. Sebastian glanced over, expecting to see one of the lunchtime regulars like Sheriff Pete or Eddie Chigliak from the movie theater. But instead what he saw took his breath away.
A woman stood in the doorway. Light from the stained glass windows flowed over her, casting her in a golden glow. She was damn near as tall as he was, with wide shoulders and thick thighs. The woman wore motorcycle boots with spiderweb stockings, cut off jean shorts that hardly covered anything, a ripped t-shirt advertising some band called The Furies and a leather motorcycle jacket. Her head was shaved on one side and the other side was spit curled like some 1920’s flapper. To Sebastian, she looked like post-apocalypse Beyonce. The woman had serious eyes and wide full lips painted bronze. She scanned the room as if looking for someone to kill. Her eyes took in each and every person, weighing them and judging them, until they focused on Sebastian.
One she saw him, she strode over to him.
He couldn’t decide if he should fall to his knees and beg forgiveness or leap out the window, so he did neither.
“You, are we related?” she asked in a voice like a hand stroking fur.
“No,” Sebastian said, his voice almost breaking. “At least, I don’t think so. My name is—”
She put a finger on his lips. “No names. Follow me. I have need of you.” She turned and strode from the restaurant. Sebastian couldn’t tear his eyes off her wide, shapely ass.
Two of the werewolf busboys laughed at Sebastian and pushed him from the chair. “Have fun!” they called.
What else could he do? It beat sitting around feeling sorry for himself in the Growler. Sebastian hurried after her, emerging into the bright mid-day light and blinking at the sight of the woman sitting astride her motorcycle.
“You are young and strong,” she said.
Sebastian stared at her.
“That was a question.”
“Yes? Yes, I am.”
“No heart conditions?”
She sniffed the air, taking his scent. “Are you a virgin?”
“Not since Halloween,” he grinned. “It’s a funny story actually,” he began, but then stopped once he saw her expression.
“Very well.” She patted the seat behind herself. “Come with me.”
“Where?” It wasn’t his habit to run off with the first amazingly hot woman that asked him to. But on second thought, it didn’t sound like a bad habit to have.
“I have a cabin. Up in the woods where my pack is staying. They are all at the campground now and the place is deserted. I’m going to take you there and you are going to make me cum. A lot. Do you understand?”
Sebastian’s cock answered for him, rapidly hardening in his jeans. The woman smiled at him and his heart crashed in his chest. If she was gorgeous when she looked like she wanted to kill everyone in the Growler, she was doubley so when she smiled.
“Why me?” he asked, throwing a leg over the back of her bike.
“Because you are pretty and strong and I have a desperate need to get laid.”
“Fair enough,” Sebastian said as she gunned the engine and took off like a bat out of hell.
The cabin was an old hunter’s squat. Not opulent by any means, but dry and cozy with a crackling fire and bottles of wine on ice in a fancy silver bowl. Bearfield was full of these kinds of places, little nooks and crannies where people could go to be alone. In the old days, it’s where shifters came to weather the full moon, or where smugglers stored their illegal hooch during prohibition. They were built to provide seclusion and few of them were on the map.
These days the little cabins had all been bought up and put on VRBO or AirB&B by cagey townies. Bearfield didn’t have as many shifters these days, so no one needed the little cabins for their monthly alone time. And only a fool tried to hunt these woods. They were protected at every level.
On the ride to the cabin, Sebastian had tried to talk to the woman. She ignored all his questions but one. When he asked her name, she told him, “Jordan Nothing.” She said it in a voice like he’d know what it meant, like she was famous. But he’d never heard of her. After that he just held her hips in his hands and enjoyed the view of the world from the back of the motorcycle.
In the cabin, Jordan pushed past him and selected a bottle of wine. It was a local vintage, pretty good from what Sebastian knew. With a practiced motion she uncorked the bottle, the steel opener a blur in her hands. She stared Sebastian in the eyes as she poured. He had no idea what she was thinking.
“Drink.” She pressed the glass into his hands and then peeled off her boots and jacket. She had that thing going on where even though she was dressed, she seemed naked. Maybe it was the cotton t-shirt clung to her curves, or her bare arms, or the suggestiveness of her stockings. Sebastian didn’t know what caused the effect, but he liked it. A lot.
“Why me?” He sipped the wine. It was sweeter than he expected, almost honeyed.
Jordan sniffed her wine and her eyes fell shut in pleasure. Her mouth opened in a little O as her chest rose and fell with the moment. Not for the first time, Sebastian wished he had shifter senses.
He tried again. “Of all the guys in the Growler, why’d you pick me?”
Without opening her eyes, Jordan said, “Because you are pretty. You won’t break when I ride you. And because you remind me of the man I love.” She sighed and sipped the wine. “I can’t have him. Not yet. But if all goes the way I want it to at the Conclave, he’ll be mine by Monday.”
The room was dominated by a thick fluffy bed. A quilt made of crimson and silver squares neatly defined its surface. The bed loomed large in Sebastian’s mind.
“Why not wait then? If you love him, why bring me here?”
Jordan opened her eyes and they were softer now. “It’s the full moon tonight. My need is always strongest during the moon. This is not love, boy. This is thirst. I am parched and you will slake my appetite. I cannot come to him hungry. I will not come to my love desperate on my knees. He will kneel before me and pledge himself. I am an Alpha and I bow to none.”
Sebastian smiled at her, a lewd smile. “You like men on their knees?” he said, lowering himself down to kneel on the rug. Jordan towered above him, but the sweet spot where her legs met was so close to his mouth. He looked up at her, silently asking permission. He saw then the tremble of her lips, the craving in her eyes. She wanted this bad.
Slowly, Sebastian unbuttoned her shorts and slid them over her powerful thighs.
How was this happening to him? It wasn’t important. Strange things happened in Bearfield and you just had to roll with them or spend your life a befuddled mess. If a beautiful black bear shifter wanted him for a night, he was eager to be of use. Truth be told, he hadn’t gotten laid since Halloween almost six months ago. He was just as thirsty as she was.
Under the shorts were the spiderwebbed stockings and under them her panties. They were simple, gray cotton and cut high on her hip. If Sebastian had been a shifter, he would have growled now in appreciation. His eyes would have flashed with fire. But instead he sighed and said, “These are nice.”
Jordan sipped her wine and ran one hand through his hair, playfully tugging at it. “Do you know what to do down there, boy? I didn’t bring you here to admire my underthings.”
“I know what to do,” he lied. Well, he had an idea. Several ideas. First he ran his hands up her thighs, marveling at the way the stockings whispered under his touch. He removed her stockings and panties next, hoping he didn’t fumble it too badly. The way she watched him was unnerving. He felt like a student trying to do a trig problem on the chalkboard while the teacher watched. Once he had them down she stepped out of her clothes. Her toenails were painted silver, he noticed. How unexpected.
Sebastian breathed deep and centered himself.
She’d picked him out and brought him here. She wanted sex even more than he did. There was no reason to be nervous. There was no chance he wouldn’t seal the deal. She was a person like any other. She may look like a goddess, but she had flaws and fears and hopes and joys just like him. Have fun, he told himself.
But the thing was, Sebastian wasn’t a submissive. He didn’t get off on being ordered around. Kneeling at her feet was nice for the view it gave, but it didn’t flip his switches. He had to show her that he wasn’t a toy. He was a man, son of the Alpha, and he’d be treated as such.
But while he was down there …
Jordan spread her legs apart and offered herself up to his mouth. With her hand gently tugging his hair, Sebastian knew exactly what she wanted. He grabbed her ass and pulled himself close. Taking just a moment to appreciate how pretty her cunt was. The labia flared outwards, brown at the edges but shading to a deep red in the middle. It reminded him of a beautiful seashell. With his fingers he spread her lips open and licked slowly up her slit.
A warm murmur of pleasure fell from Jordan’s lips. The sound did something primal to Sebastian—his cock stiffened immediately growing painfully hard in his jeans. He needed to hear more of those sounds.
He licked and sucked his way up and down her sex, listening for the sounds he elicited from her. He was feeling her out, taking her sounding. He’d always been a quick study. Her murmurs and moans became words. She hissed out “yes” and “right there,” then moaned, “oh my goddess, my goddess” as he sucked her clit and strummed it with his tongue.
Sebastian tried looking up—he desperately wanted to see her face, to see the expressions of pleasure—but the angle was all wrong. He slid one finger and then two into her, curving them sweetly against the syrupy hotness inside her. Jordan was molten inside. The heat inside her was almost uncomfortably hot. He stroked her slick walls and then both of her hands were on his head, the wineglass empty and discarded. She tugged at his hair rhythmically, driving him on.
“Right there,” she purred. “Right there. Suck me. Faster.” Her words grew softer, her voice rose three octaves. Sebastian fell into the moment, fell into her, licking and sucking and pumping his fingers inside her until a silence fell upon her.
Jordan’s legs trembled. Her grip in his hair became painfully tight. Her breathing stopped.
And then she roared, her body danced above him, her cunt seizing his fingers as her pleasure moved through her like an earthquake.
“Yes, Danny! Yes!” she screamed over and over.
Sebastian didn’t stop, didn’t know how to stop. He kept at her until she release the hold on his head, turned, and sprawled onto the bed.
“Who’s Danny,” her lover asked.
Jordan always had moments of disorientation after she came. When she younger, she hated them. Before, that hazy space her mind went to seemed a place of weakness. Her guard was down. She was vulnerable. Anyone could have bested her in those minutes as she floated back to herself.
But now she treasured them. She was free in that post-orgasm place. It was a glimpse of the goddess, of eternity. It was a gift to feel so unburdened and so she answered the boy’s question.
“He was my boyfriend when I was younger. A bear shifter, like me. And after the Conclave he’l be mine again. I’ve arranged everything with the elders. They all agree he needs a mate and since he hasn’t found one, it will be me.”
Something soft was under her. It was a bed. It was a bed and she was in a cabin. The context of the world began to reassert itself.
The bed groaned as her lover—had she ever learned his name?—clambered on next to her. He was naked now. The scent of his lust was honey in the air. He lay down next to her, the tip of his cock rubbing against her thigh leaving a trail of wetness behind.
“He’s that great?” her lover asked. Was there a trace of hurt in his voice? Did the boy grow attached so quickly?
“He is everything I want and need. Our lovemaking will shatter mountains. Our romance will be an epic war that poets will write of. Our children will be strong and handsome and will burn the world with their fury.” She could see Danny in her mind’s eye clearly. He’d be hers. He had no choice. And she would take him home and claim him, mate him, again and again until the strength fled their bodies.
The thought of it made her heart race.
Her lover—Sebastian! That was his name—guided the head of his cock to her sex. She was on her belly and he behind her. It was a less dominant pose than she was sued to, but the novelty of being taken from behind by a mortal amused her, so she did not stop him.
Jordan spread her legs invitingly and Sebastian took it as the sign it was. He entered her, spreading her wide and she gasped loudly at the sensation. His cock was thick. Thicker than she was used to, for sure. She glanced back and saw him, face dark with concentration, as he held himself above her. His shoulders gleamed with sweat as he slowly worked himself into her. She felt full already, but he still had more to give her.
Jordan gripped the quilt under her and pushed back against him. A moan of utter delight fell from her enraptured lips.
She had underestimated the mortal.
His cock dove into her, demanding respect and she rolled her hips up to meet each of his thrusts. He drove deeper and deeper into her in a persistent surge, claiming more territory with each assault. She tightened around him, squeezing him. She meant it as a fight, to hold on to some high ground, but instead it just heightened the sensations. Her cunt was worshipping him, stroking him like a sycophant.
He raked against every inch of her, finding every one of her secret pleasures and exploiting them.
“You like this?” he asked. His voice was cool and calm.
“Fuck you,” Jordan replied. How dare he be cocky with her.
“What’s that?” Sebastian increased his pace, plunging into her faster and faster. “What did you say?”
“Fuck you,” she moaned.
He braced himself on one hand while the other slid around them under her sweat-slick belly, to find her clit. He strummed her button then withe expert fingers. “Tell me you love it. Tell me you love the way my cock makes you feel,” he commanded.
“Fuck me,” she gasped. “Shut up and fuck me.” Her body was moving by itself, trapped between his stroking fingers and his enthralling cock.
“Tell me love it, or I walk away,” he threatened.
He couldn’t be serious. Could he? Jordan did not want to take the chance. It didn’t make her less of an Alpha to admit she liked getting fucked.
“I love how you fuck me,” she whispered. Her body moved on its own now, it was an ocean of pleasure. Her hips rolled and rocked. Her ass rose in time to grasp greedily for more of Sebastian.
“Louder,” he said.
Jordan bit her lip. She was getting close.
“Louder,” Sebastian said, slamming into her.
“I fucking love how you fuck me!” she roared as she came. The roar cracked the windows. It shook trees. Every shifter within a mile heard it.
Her climax ripped through her and then Sebastian’s cock swelled and burst within, flooding her with his hot seed. It tripped her over into another climax and then another. So many that she lost count.
The full moon shone on them through the window and in her blood Jordan knew it was more than half responsible for her night. It brought a madness to her bones, the moon did. But it was a joyful madness.
And anyway, Sebastian didn’t seem to mind.
She waited until she came back to herself. Until she could remember her name and could feel her toes and until she could stop laughing throatily at the pleasure still rolling in her body.
“You can find your way home from here, yes?” she asked Sebastian.
“What?” he said.
But Lady Jordan didn’t hear him. The moon fever had broken and it was time to return to her pack. She had a big weekend ahead of her and by the end of it Danny Morrissey would be hers.
For Danny Morrissey’s story, please check out Alpha Fever. 22 romance novellas by 22 bestselling authors. Available March 19th at all major ebook stores.
Jacqueline Sweet is the USA Today bestselling author of the Bearfield paranormal romances. She lives in Oakland, California.
For a free book and discounts on all new books, please sign up for her mailing list.
James held the door open for Patty. A lamp in the corner cast soft light through the bedroom. Even the dirty laundry in a basket in the corner was less offensive in the glow.
“You’re sure?” James asked, his breath curling in her ear. “I mean, we can wait if you want to.”
Patty turned and wrapped her arms around James’ neck, pulling him into a kiss. With her lips solidly locked on his, she turned and used her hip to close the door. “I’m sure.” Her fingers traced his brows and cheekbone. He would be only the third man she’d slept with, but Patty knew she wasn’t making a mistake.
The others hadn’t been mistakes precisely; they’d just failed to meet her expectations. James would be better, she was certain.
Not breaking his hold on her hips, James twirled her toward the bed. The brass posters reflected the lamp dimly. Patty perched on the edge of the mattress and James slipped warm fingers under her shirt and lifted it over her breasts. Their kiss broke only long enough to yank the fabric out of the way. Patty ignored James’ shirt and instead attacked his jeans, which strained to contain his impressive cock. She’d gotten a glimpse and touch on their last date, so she was eager to have a more complete encounter.
“You are so sexy, Patty. I can’t get over how soft your skin is, so brown and creamy.” He kissed her cheek and throat, working her fly open.
“James.” She tucked her nose into the crook of his neck and reached into his underwear. “You feel so good.”
James groaned and nipped her neck. “Fuck, yes, that does feel good. Let’s not waste it in your hand, though.”
“Definitely not.” Lifting her ass from the bed, she shimmed her skinny jeans and panties to the floor. All that remained was her bra, and she stretched up over the bed, posing for his enjoyment.
“Goddamn, I can’t wait to get that bra off.” He shucked his clothing as quickly as he could.
“This?” she teased, running red painted fingers over the lacy black cup.
“This.” Pouncing on her, he pulled one strap down and kissed her shoulder.
“Yes, this should go.” Arching her back, she doubled her arms behind her.
“Let me.” He slipped his hand around her and squeezed the two halves together, popping hooks from eyes.
“You have practice at that,” she accused.
“Damn right I do.” His cocky grin matched his words. He pulled the garment away to kiss her breasts and nibble her nipples.
The first warmed her and the latter sent shocks down her spine. “God, so hot,” she complained, slipping her hand down between her legs to touch herself.
James pulled her hand away and scooted until his face took its place. Pushing her legs up, he buried his mouth in her crotch and she squealed in surprise and delight. His nimble and wet tongue sent ripples through her pussy.
“You know, I’ve only had one guy do that before.”
His mouth broke contact with her skin for only a moment. “Lucky guy. Am I as good?” He followed his words with an attack on her clit. The nibbling on her nipples had sent shocks, this sent waves of fire.
“Oh, God, yes. Better. Much better.”
“Good. Come for me, baby.”
He lapped and sucked and even rubbed his stubbly chin against her, making her squirm. The roughness built the fire already speeding through her into a rage, and she clutched his covers, waiting for the peak.
“Yes, James. Fuck me.”
“Need a bit of that?” he asked, sliding fingers into her and pumping them. He continued to stimulate her now sensitive clit.
“Yes, yes.” Patty squirmed more in anticipation. Her diaphragm flexed and constricted, but instead of a climax, overwhelming pleasure drained away.
Patty started to sit up, unsure what had just happened.
James crawled up to kiss her with lips that smelled of her sex. It didn’t turn her off but made her eager to reward him for giving her such lavish attention. She reached to his cock at the same time that her tongue explored his mouth.
“You sure you don’t want that somewhere else?” He reached to a bedside table and produced a condom.
“You’re right.” She ripped open the package. Surely this time she would peak with him. Sliding the sheath over him, she squeezed and tugged his length making him groan.
“You didn’t come nearly loud enough for my taste. I will have to do better this time.” He slipped a hand under her bottom and pulled her down slightly, making her giggle.
With her pelvis pointing up, he plunged his condom-sheathed cock deep into her, making her eyes squeeze shut. She moaned and arched, pushing herself into his hips, trying to take another inch, another millimeter.
“Yeah, baby. Tell me what you want.” He held her legs by the knees and spread them. When he thrust next, he hit the bottom of her pussy and her teeth clamped shut, barely missing her tongue.
When she was able to speak, she muttered, “I want you to fuck me. Fuck. I want to come for you. Fuck me. Fuck me. That feels so damn good.” Her pussy constricted and James’ face contorted. He would come soon and she’d be damned if she missed it this time. She reached down to rub herself.
“Yeah, yeah. Rub yourself. Come. Fuck.” His hands tightened on her knees and Patty could feel him throbbing inside her. In echo, her pussy closed on him, and she bucked harder, feeling the edge so close. So close.
James grunted and loosed his grip on her legs. She continued to rub herself and tears formed at the edges of her eyes. “Close, close, close.” She begged him, “Help me.”
“You got it.” He used his hand, trying to fill her the way his cock had. When that didn’t work, he sat up and used both hands, one inside, one on her clit, but the orgasm kept slipping away once her hips got going.
“I can’t, I can’t. I keep slipping.”
James’ expression turned stormy and he braced on his hands on either side of her face. “Do you trust me, Patty?”
“Good. Hold on.” He reached into one of his drawers and pulled out two sets of fuzzy handcuffs. “Give me your wrist.”
She grinned and spread herself between the posts, her wrists bound by cuffs and two belts served for her ankles.
“How is that? Will it hold?”
She pulled and shifted. “Yeah, that’s good.”
“Good. Now, you are going to come for me, my pretty girl. Make it a loud one.”
Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, so excited by this prospect of losing control.
James started with his mouth again, and then added fingers. Although she was still sensitive, it took time for her to build back to where she had been. She tried closing her eyes and focusing on how she had felt minutes ago.
When James didn’t get the response he wanted, he used both hands as he had before and took one of her dark nipples between his teeth. The bite worked and the resulting zing woke all her nerves. Now his fingers on her clit and pumping inside stoked the banked fire, bringing back the roaring flame. A flame so hot, that she couldn’t stay still.
“Yes, yes,” she groaned. Her hips tried to shift, her clit so sensitive, but she couldn’t escape.
“No,” she cried, twitching. Her vision turned red and she doubled her efforts to snake away. “No.”
“That doesn’t sound like a stop, Patty. Come for me,” he commanded.
He was right. She wasn’t asking him to stop, she was trying to escape, trying to fight against the stimulation.
A moment later the fight ended. She thrashed as far as the ties allowed and felt her whole body burst into flame.
“Yeah, baby, yeah.” James encouraged her, still using his fingers in her pussy. “You’re gonna squirt. Do it. Do it.”
She had no idea what squirting was, but a wash of fluid ran down her thighs alongside a release of pressure in her groin.
She screamed for him then. Obscenities, prayers, every foul word she’d ever learned.
When that barrage ended, he put his head on the bed next to hers but didn’t untie her. “You have to help me change sheets.”
She chuckled. “Sure. Just let me out.”
“Oh, I don’t want to do that yet.” His smile reminded her of a cat that held a mouse in its jaws.
She laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Come on now.”
“No,” he said, still light-hearted. His hand slid over her abdomen and curled into her sex.
She squealed and wriggled. “Too much.”
“Yeah, that’s the best part.”
“My arms are starting to kink.”
“Well, boo.” He reached up and pushed a button to release the cuff. “I can’t convince you to stay tied to my bed?” He made no move to release the other. “You can move now, take the pressure off?” He kissed her and she reached over her head to fiddle with the cuff until she got it open.
“Nope.” She scooted down to release her feet.
“Wait a minute,” he told her, grabbing her ribs to block her attempt to free herself. His fingers wiggled and she erupted in unwanted giggles.
“No, I’m ticklish. Eeek!” she squealed, still writhing.
“Now be a good girl. Lie still and I won’t tickle you anymore.”
“A good girl?” she taunted. “Who’s a good girl?” She twisted to get one hand on her ankle. The awkward position made her hamstrings cramp, but she got the belt loose and couldn’t be held any longer. “I’m not a good girl.” Kicking him aside, she leapt off the bed.
“No. You’re a brat. Only one thing to do with one of those”
She cocked her head, curious. He ducked, put his shoulder to her hips, and hefted her over his shoulder. “Spank you into submission!” He held her there, smacking her bum.
She laughed at first but soon squealed, her bottom getting warmer and redder. She kicked and thrashed to get away from his hand. He dropped her onto the bed and she reflexively curled up in a ball.
“Stop, please, mercy!” She was still laughing and he was still grinning.
“Okay, but only if you’re sure you don’t want me to tie you up.”
Heavy breaths made his chest inflate, and she realized she was huffing and puffing as well. That had been a workout, one of a type she would eagerly repeat.
“I definitely want that. Just not tonight, okay?”
He slid onto the bed beside her his shoulder against hers. “Not tonight. Damn, Patty, that was fun.”
She couldn’t argue. She also couldn’t fight the yawn that cracked her jaw.
“Yeah. Let’s call it a night. First, though, help me change the sheets.”
She groaned but rolled off the bed to strip the linens.
“James?” She tucked a fitted sheet over one corner. “It was more fun fighting to get away. Is that okay?”
He laughed. “Hell, yeah. We just need to make sure I know when you really want me to stop and when you’re just being a brat.”
She nodded. “Yeah. A code word or phrase.”
He chuckled again, fighting a yawn of his own. He flopped on the bed and held his arm out for her to curl into. “They call them safe words, baby, and we’ll have one next time.”
Smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, Patty knew she hadn’t made a mistake at all.
Angelica Dawson, best selling Naughty Nights Press author, has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards—mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.
Find more of Angelica on , , or sign up for her .
It had been a very, very long night.
Annah Felton, video technician to the Haysham UFO Society, had been lying on her stomach for the best part of the evening, staring through her night-vision camera and seeing nothing worth documenting, while listening to her teammates Wade and Aster bicker over her head.
“Pass the star map, Wade. I need to check something.”
“Get it yourself. I thought you didn’t need a man to do things for you.”
“Oh, grow up. It’s right in front of you. Just throw it over here.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather do it for yourself? Really?”
Honestly. If she had to listen to one more night of those two pretending they hated each other’s guts when everyone knew they secretly wanted each other, she was going to scream.
Walking back to their cars afterwards, she had looked over her shoulder to find the one person she cared about seeing. She made eye contact with him and raised her eyebrows, asking him the question she always asked after nights like these.
Coming back to mine?
Pushing his dark forelock out of his eyes, Zack Gennaro gave her a brief nod, one corner of his mouth quirked in a small smile. Annah turned to open her car door, hiding her face behind a veil of blonde hair.
Nobody knew, and nobody could know. It was more special that way.
She always loved the sky at night. Watching it whoosh by as she drove down the freeway, she always felt like she was flying. Watching it from a field, as was their usual location when out on an alien-hunting vigil, she felt as though she could fall into the stars.
For her it never mattered that they had never had a proper alien encounter. She could stay there and film the stars all night.
But now, after hours of bickering and lying stiffly in the grass, she needed Zack. Needed him more than she would admit.
Arriving at her house, she waited in the car for a moment, wondering how long it would take him to get there. He always took a different route from her, hiding the fact he wasn’t going home. Sometimes she would be waiting up to an hour, impatient and wet, wanting his touch.
Hopefully tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights.
She was inside the house, watching at the window, when headlights blazed along the driveway. The front door clicked open and footsteps came along the hall, stopping in the doorway behind her.
“You looked great tonight.”
Annah turned to face him. Zack stood, hands in his pockets, his dark T-shirt outlining the ridges of his abs. His eyes were focused on her, intent in that way he had, sparking with desire. Her body flushed in response, but somehow she found herself talking, covering her need for him.
“It was a hell of a night.”
“I spend every damn evening waiting for Wade and Aster to stop fighting and fuck already. It drives me insane.”
“You know what drives me insane?” Zack responded, taking a step forward. “Seeing you there and not being able to touch you. Having to hide it in front of them every time.”
Annah paused, holding his gaze. She felt her gut tighten with longing.
“You can touch me now.”
Zack took another step towards her, then another, and in a sudden rush she found herself in his arms, pressing her body to his as she turned her face up for his kiss.
It was always like this. Restraining herself all night, she would find herself desperate for him, crushing herself against him as though they could meld into one. They rarely had time to even remove their clothes, although she remembered the first time she had seen him naked – his hard muscles, the trail of dark fuzz leading to his stiff cock – and that image carried her even when their coupling blazed away in five minutes of hurried fumbling. Tonight she wanted to be naked, and she tugged at the edge of his T-shirt, pulling herself away from him just long enough to wrench it over his head, hoping he would understand and help her.
The urgency transmitted from her to him and Zack reached for her shirt, yanking it upwards, and they shed their clothes in a blur of motion, stopping only when they were both naked and breathless, staring at each other as though they wanted to eat the other alive.
“In front of the window.” Annah’s voice was hoarse. She turned to face the window, resting her hands on the sill. Her reflection stared back at her, a vision of sleek curves and blonde hair covering her bared breasts.
She let the image blur, looking past her reflection at the stars as she felt Zack’s hands on her ass, gently pulling her back so her cheeks were pressed against him, and then she felt his hard cock slowly, tenuously slide inside her moist channel.
Oh. Her toes curled in the carpet as he set up a tortuous rhythm, gliding back and forth against that sweet spot inside her, and one hand moved around her thigh to the pulsing point where she needed him most, spreading her folds to tease her clit.
The night sky drew her in, filling her with wonder, and her eyes glazed over as the stars seemed to expand across her field of vision, tumbling and falling as she flew past them, becoming a glittering haze.
Faster, closer. Sparkling, dancing. Her body began to tighten, pleasure rippling upwards and outwards from her clit to her fingertips. She blinked as Zack’s thrusts grew harder, jolting her out of her reverie, and bliss was closing in on her, nearing, now -
Zack groaned, and Annah let out an answering cry as she convulsed, her eyes falling shut, finally blocking out the sky.
She followed him out to his car, wanting to hold onto the moment as long as possible.
“I’ll see you at the next meeting, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Annah couldn’t remember exactly when it would be. Not soon enough.
They paused for a moment, the car door open, Zack leaning on the roof.
“Do you think we should tell them?” Annah asked, finally.
Zack cocked his head curiously.
“I didn’t think you wanted to.”
“I – “ Annah shrugged. “Maybe it would give Wade and Aster a kick.”
As silence fell between them again, Annah knew what the answer would be. She wouldn’t tell them. It would remain their secret.
She stayed in the driveway as Zack’s car revved, drove away, throwing up gravel. Looking up, for a moment she thought she saw movement in the sky.
Lights. Lights moving between the stars. Could that be—
But she waited, watching the lights, until the sky blurred, until she felt like she was flying.
Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of twenty-seven by way of the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme. Her debut novel “The Hand He Dealt” was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012. Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica.
Find more of Tanith on or
Fall in Savannah, GA, is usually pretty mild. However, today is a dark day, between the pain I can feel in my bones, the loss of my Uncle, and my President. My head pounded as my uncle’s casket was lowered to the ground. The chrome pins from the brothers in the Syndicate were shining in the late afternoon sunlight. When the creator of your bike club dies, everyone comes out and shows their respect. I looked over to Lucas and noticed the solitary tear running down his face. I had wished mom would come, but when she said she wanted nothing to do with my uncle, she meant it.
After the funeral we made our way back to the clubhouse for the wake. Lots of beer, drugs, and beautiful women. That’s how Uncle Luke rolled. I almost burst out laughing when I saw the gravestone cake Casey had ordered.
“Do you really think that cake was the wisest choice Casey?” I said, trying to hide my amusement. Casey shrugged and smiled at me as she made her way to my side. This wasn’t the way I wanted to get my Pres tab.
“I would like to introduce everyone to your new President of the Sinister Sons Syndicate! Fucking hear, hear!” Blade grabbed my arm and held it high in the air. He pulled me in for a hug, and patted my back as I buried my head in his shoulder.
Hammer stands in the corner, sipping on his jack. He sneers at one of the hunnies as she tries to sneak by him.
“Thanks for coming everyone. I hate getting together on these circumstances, but does a son ever really need a fucking reason to party?” I lifted my drink in the air.
I finished my drink and snuck off to my room. I kept the light off so no one would notice, but to no avail. Casey snuck in and whispered through the darkness, “Gavin are you here?”
I reached forward in the dark and pulled Casey into my arms, conquering her lips as I pushed her toward the bed. I slowly laid her down, as she pulled her panties off from under her skirt. I unzipped my pants, and let my throbbing dick loose from the confines of my jeans. I crawled in between Casey’s tight legs, and pressed the tip of my thick cock deep inside her wetness. She let out a moan, as I pressed myself into her harder and harder. I reached up Casey’s shirt and grabbed her large breasts.
Casey reached around and grabbed my tight ass. She matched my rhythm as she wrapped her legs tight around my waist.
I could feel the pressure starting to twitch in my balls, and before I could stop it– I spilled my seed deep inside her wet cunt. I unsheathed myself from her heat.
She moaned as she pressed up to kiss my lips.
I crawled off of her and made my way to the small bathroom attached to my room. I flipped the lever to the shower, stripped, and stepped in.
I could hear the loud music of the party even over the volume of water in my shower.
Casey knocked on the door and stepped in. “Gavin, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Casey. Just taking a shower.”
“I know, but he was like a father to you and Lucas. I was just trying to check on you.” Casey said as she closed the door behind her.
Within a moment of Casey being gone, there was another tap on the door. “Holy Fuck! I’m fine, just let me have a fucking minute, Casey.” I growled.
“Gavin, it’s me.” Lucas said as he closed the door behind him. He stuck his head in the shower to see me.
“What do you want, Lucas?” I said as I looked up into the water and let it cascade down my body. My tattooed chest, and arms always made the bubbles look tri-colored. I finished rinsing my black hair, and turned the shower off. I grabbed my towel and stepped out.
“I was just making sure you’re all right, Gavin.” Lucas said as he leaned against the sink.
“I’m fine. I don’t know why y’all are so damned worried about me.” I said with my irritation clear in my voice.
“He was my best friend, Uncle, and President. Of course it fucking hurts, but in our line of work, it’s kind of guaranteed. I know I’m never going to be able to have a retirement, and that’s ok with me. If it’s not okay with you then you’re in the wrong fucking family, bro.” I held the door open for Lucas to leave, and dressed in my usual jeans, and black t-shirt. I slid my boots on and pulled my kutte on. My VP tab was gone, and about to be replaced with the Pres Tab. I always wanted this job, but not like this.
Dawn White resides in Southern WV with her husband and three daughters. She has always been an avid reader and seems to live a busy life as a wife and mother. One thing that keeps Dawn sane is her writing. She will always strive to give you the best of her busy mind.
Find more of Dawn on or
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