Securing Sara (The Beast Masters Series)
Read Securing Sara (The Beast Masters Series) Online
Authors: Reagan Hawk
Table of Contents
Securing Sara (The Beast Masters Series)
Securing Sara (The Beast Masters Series) © Copyright 2013 by Reagan Hawk
Thank you for reading Securing Sara by Reagan Hawk
Prospect Springs Shifters Book One
Securing Sara (The Beast Masters Series)
Reagan Hawk
Securing Sara (The Beast Masters Series) © Copyright 2013 by Reagan Hawk
First Electronic Printing January 2013, The Raven Books
Cover art by Eliza Black © Copyright 2013
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Reagan Hawk.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence.
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The Beast Masters Series
Securing Sara
Reagan Hawk
The Beast Masters Series, Book 2
Jaston and Malock were once as close as brothers. War and the scars it left behind changed that. It’s not until a woman, charged with a crime, arrives on their planet in need of sanctuary, that they’re able to set aside their differences. Problem is, she’s not quite as willing to submit as they’d like her to be. In fact, she’s as spirited as they come. The males of Ralen are naturally dominant and the need to reproduce is upon them. If they don’t do it soon they risk The Heat overtaking them.
Sara isn’t one to bend to anyone’s whim, let alone two hunky alpha males who want to not only pleasure her but collar her for life as well. She doesn’t want to admit she has feelings for both men and worse yet, she wants to submit to them. She wants them to dominate her right into an orgasmic frenzy. Too stubborn to admit as much to them, she finds herself agreeing to live a life of servitude in a House of Pleasure rather than simply stating the truth—she wants them both.
Warning: Novella contains graphic language, light BDSM play/themes, extreme alpha male shifters who cannot wait to get a collar on their female to brand her as theirs for life, women willing to submit, and scorching hot sex scenes. If you don’t like strong men who take control in the bedroom and sometimes out, or if you’re in the market for long, drawn-out plots, this isn’t the series for you. This novella is hot and dirty and won’t apologize for that fact.
Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a how-to book or a manual to the BDSM/fetish lifestyle. It is merely meant to be read and provide a mental escape for your enjoyment. Always practice safe sex and never enter into BDSM play without proper knowledge and understanding of the lifestyle and a trained, trusted practitioner to guide you through it all. Serious injury or death could result from improper BDSM/fetish play. Safe, sane and consensual (SSC) is a must. The Raven Books and its authors, owners and operators are not responsible for any injuries or death that may occur from improper use of techniques or information found within this document.
The Beast Masters Series
Securing Sara
Rescuing Reya
Capturing Clara
Binding Bree
Chapter One
Jaston of Ralen tossed his gaming pieces onto the Bayabin board and laughed as a series of disgruntled grunts and groans sounded from the guards he oversaw on a daily basis. The others had lost at Bayabin to him—again. He’d always been good at the game that was part strategy, part skill and part luck. He collected his winnings and stood, stretching fully after having sat too long in one place.
He liked to be moving, not sitting, but the guards under his command liked it when he joined in their downtime. He only did so rarely.
Malock, a rival who at one point Jaston had considered a close friend, approached and clapped contemptuously. There was no mistaking the mocking look upon his face. He lifted one brow, showing off one of the visible scars he’d gotten during the Battle of Tasieni. A battle they’d fought in side by side. One that had marked the start of Malock’s descent.
Innocent people died during the battle, and Malock still held the guilt of it close to his chest, though nothing he could have done would have prevented the tragedy. All the men had thought the woman who entered the building was nonthreatening, that she sought refuge as had many of the villagers of the area. The men had assumed what she was holding was a bundled baby.
How wrong they’d been.
Jaston closed his eyes for a split second, remembering the horror of it all—when they’d realized their error. Malock had tried to tackle the woman sent to kill so many, only to be thrown back by the blast. He wore the scars of the ordeal both on his flesh and deep within. The scar on his face, running from his forehead down his right cheek, was the most visible.
The man’s long, brown hair touched his broad shoulders. For the past several cycles Malock had worn it pulled back at the nape of his neck, hardening his appearance even more than it already was. It was unusual to see his hair down now. Something was off with him—even more than normal. He puffed out his chest and put a hand on his hip. “Does the great Jaston best you all yet again? Notice he does not play me. He knows me a worthy adversary, so he hides with his tail between his legs among the young.”
Jaston growled. Gone were the days when he’d do his best to ignore Malock’s slights. They came too frequently anymore. Jaston knew Malock suffered with the loss of so many lives. That the man he used to call friend had given so much of himself during the battle and left much of him behind upon that planet. Even with the knowledge, it grew harder and harder to blindly accept Malock’s increasingly destructive behavior.
The men under Jaston’s command said little, but their gazes said it all. They were awaiting a fight between the alpha males. One had been brewing for some time. As of late, Malock had been pushing more and more, doing his best to cause a fight of some sort. Now wasn’t a wise time. Already Jaston’s beast was on the brink of pushing free. It was closer to The Heat than he was willing to admit, and should he let go of it, he feared he could kill another, possibly even Malock.
Malock’s gaze lit with amusement as if he sensed how close to the edge Jaston was. It would be just like Malock to not care. To push harder. To attempt to drag others into his world of darkness and despair. To leave Jaston no choice but to go over the edge and into the abyss.
Aladore, a guard under Jaston, neared him and shared a long look with him. Aladore was younger than Jaston by fifty cycles, but already showed signs of leadership possibility. He was able to smooth over most rifts among the men. This wasn’t one he’d had a lot of luck with. Still he tried. Aladore’s clan was known for their peacekeeping skills. Sadly, they did nothing for the tension between Malock and Jaston.
“Shift,” he said in a low voice to Jaston. His hair was so blond it bordered on white. A trait that came from his family. There had never been any mistaking what clan of the beast Aladore belonged to. “Be one with the beast. It needs to be free. We are during downtime now. Use it to run off the rage.”
With the nod of his head, Jaston walked past Malock, purposely hitting him shoulder to shoulder. Malock merely laughed and the sound grated on Jaston’s nerves.
“See, he leaves rather than face a true opponent,” mocked Malock.
Jaston bolted into the tree line. The fast-growing forests of Ralen often changed so quickly that it proved hard to find the way around if one was not vigilant. Already the deep blue of the leaves of the talium tree showed yellow on the ends. It marked the end of the warm season and the start of the cold. Temperatures on the planet had started to fluctuate and would soon become frigid. With the cold came The Heat—seasonal for younger males but older ones fought it all year round, more so in the cold. Despite its name, it was far from welcome regardless the climate.
With a roar, Jaston flung off his loincloth and leapt into the air. He allowed his beast to take over, morphing his body from that of a man to a predator. The change was relatively painless. His paws landed with nearly no sound on the forest floor. He kept going, kept running full force, allowing nature to surround him. He needed to burn off energy and the desire to level Malock.
He ran until the beast was soothed and then strolled to the edge of a small stream. Dipping his head, he calmed and then began to lap cool, fresh water from the stream. When he’d had enough, he backed away from the edge and shifted back into his base form, that of a man. He stood naked near the water, his muscles aching with overuse, but he was content because the run had been much needed.
He bent before the stream and scooped up a handful of cool water. He put it on the back of his neck and rubbed it around the front of his chest. His body temperature always ran hotter after a full shift. He gathered more water and allowed it to pour down his torso. As it dripped down to his exposed cock, he took his shaft in his hand and knew the time had come to ease the other burning—the sexual one.
Houses of Pleasure held no appeal to him anymore, when at one time they had been his everything. He’d once gone twice a day for nearly five straight cycles. They’d fed his carnal desires to a point but left him empty at the end of it all. He’d not seen it then—a sign of the impending Heat. He’d fucked his fill of the women who resided in the Houses of Pleasure. A couple had become favorites of his, liking it when he tied them up, flogged them and then took them from behind—his preferred position. It appealed to his beast side greatly and he did not have to look upon their faces.
He stroked his cock as he thought back to his last visit to a House of Pleasure. A tiny slip of a female had sucked his cock for hours, unable to make him come. His focus had not been on the task, nor her gifted mouth. It had been far away in thought, burning with the need to locate the one for him. A woman to bond to him for eternity. To be collared. A woman to chase away what he did not want to admit out loud was upon him.
He pumped his long shaft, his gaze moving to the other side of the stream where a yalenise flower bloomed. They were rare and only bloomed late in the season. The red of their bloom was impressive and had always appealed to him. The center was a pale creamy white—a sharp contrast to the petals. Jaston’s gaze glassed over as he pulled at his cock, drawing it out with his hand, doing what needed to be done to allow himself release.
