Lorcan Hunt can’t believe the very sentinel who had him arrested six weeks ago is on the auction block, completely at his mercy. What better way to get even—and pass the time until his next job—than force her to submit to every new and wicked revenge he can imagine? His every demand for her submission, however, comes with a price: a burning need that slides under his skin and grows stronger with every concession she makes.
When Kaela finally gives in to the fierce desire between them, Lorcan finds himself hopelessly caught in an impossible choice. Honor the commitment binding him to his next job—or hold onto the one woman he can never have.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Enslaved:
A satisfied smile caught the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t want to lose my
slave
in the crowd.”
“I’ll bet.”
Without warning, he snaked an arm around her, hauling her closer.
Too close. Breathing now meant drawing him in, letting him overwhelm her senses when she was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Events that gave him every legal right to drag her around. For now. She’d taken the mission knowing the risks, agreed to the terms set forth by the bondskeeper and hadn’t complained, even when the final step meant accepting the mark of an indentured slave on her hip.
But she sure as hell wanted to complain now. The arm looped around her back felt too tight, the grip too possessive, the man holding her too dangerous, arrogant and out of his ever-lovin’ mind. Plastered to his front, the hard planes of his chest made her increasingly aware of how little she wore, and each steady inhale only made the silk bunched between their bodies less noticeable. Seeing as how his gaze dropped to her cleavage, which was perilously close to spilling over his hasty tie job, he knew it too.
“The only expectations you need to worry about,” he growled, “are mine. More specifically, how many ways I’ll want your legs wrapped around me.” His rough voice and the hypnotic sweep of his thumb along her jaw made for a treacherous combination. Made it impossible not to think about it—his body covering hers, his mouth sliding down her throat and her legs anchored around his hips, locking him against her, inside her.
Which made it pretty damn impressive she could respond at all. “Either they left you in solitary confinement too long, or you’ve always been this deluded.”
The dig had the desired effect. Lorcan’s expression darkened and he spun around, jerking her after him. Left with barely enough time to suck in a relieved breath, she had no choice but to follow. It was either that or be dragged. Taking a stand against her
prime
in the middle of the promenade would land her in the brig faster than being caught on the run.
And that was the best-case scenario. She refused to consider the lengths to which some primes went to teach their slaves a lesson in obedience. Kaela hadn’t forgotten the party she’d attended while tracking a Battalian scientist wanted for testing his biological weapons on innocent settlers in the Astral quadrant.
Lorcan strode away from the promenade, away from Varek’s slave dealer and Caplan. The farther he led her along the spaceport’s winding corridors, the more determined she became to devise a new plan.
Getting him alone could give her the opportunity to incapacitate him, but wouldn’t solve the problem of disengaging the locking mechanism on the bands joining them. She’d need tools for that. Unfortunately, lugging around an unconscious man until she could track down something to do the job would be a bit too conspicuous.
All of which left her back at square one.
He picked up the pace, turning toward the port’s merchant district.
“Hunt,” she began.
“I think Master has a much better ring to it, don’t you?”
“So does fuck y—”
He turned a corner off the main corridor, one she suspected led to a maintenance shaft, and pivoted to face her. “I think you and I need to come to an understanding.”
Kaela snorted. “
I
think you need to let go of me.” She stared at the hand that molded to her upper arm, mentally running down and discarding any maneuver that would involve breaking her own wrist or arm to get him to release her. Being Lorcan’s slave didn’t qualify for that kind of extreme measure. Yet.
“Now that’s the beauty of this arrangement,” he continued. “What you think doesn’t matter.”
An old anger flared to life inside her, his tone a little too reminiscent of superior officers who’d made it their personal mission to remind her, as often as possible, they didn’t believe she’d earned her position on merit alone. More than once she’d been tempted to point out her mother hadn’t involved herself in Kaela’s life since becoming a quadrant chancellor years ago, let alone pulled any strings where her career was concerned.
Overtly disagreeing with those ignorant opinions had always landed her the shit assignments. She didn’t doubt that disagreeing with Lorcan now would invite retaliation, one she feared would prove she hadn’t been the right sentinel for this assignment. Not taking into account Lorcan’s unexpected role.
Stumbling across Hunt outside a trading settlement on the Outer Rim had given her a way to evade the handful of mercenaries looking for her. Escaping them without having obtained her mission objective or positively identifying the Dominion official Varek was suspected of bribing pissed her off more than getting caught. She hadn’t expected to find anything on Hunt’s ship when he gave her a ride to the closest spaceport, least of all cargo that didn’t belong to him. “It wasn’t personal.”
A cold smile hugged his lips. “It was to me.”
“I was doing my job.”
“We both know you could have looked the other way.”
Not when looking the other way meant ignoring the duties and responsibilities she took seriously. Once any Dominion officer started down that path, letting greed compromise their integrity, a one-way trip to Dadelus penal colony lurked right around the corner.
Lorcan’s eyes narrowed. “You cost me a lot of money.”
“Here’s a tip. Don’t steal.”
“You made the wrong call.”
“Not my problem.”
He leaned in, his mouth hovering above her ear. “It is now.”
And now that opportunity has come, a way to show Derek that she can be the woman he needs. Without waiting for his permission.
Unaware of her identity at a masked sex party, he offers Katrina everything she’s dreamed of—to be her master for the night, teasing her with a promise of intensely arousing discipline and praise.
Only Derek is a demanding master. Learning to serve his needs is a ruthless lesson in pleasure she won’t soon forget.
Warning: Contains graphic language, bondage, toys, anal play, and sexual encounters in public settings.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Tamed:
His thigh slid farther between her legs and back again as he pulled at the pebbled tip. Heat seared her from cunt to tit as he moved his thigh in sync with the tease of his strong fingers at her breast. She gasped at the pinch and pull, until her pleasured moan mingled with her pained cry. She was on the brink of climax, her breath ragged, her heart pounding.
Derek!
She almost cried out his name but caught herself at the last second. She couldn’t reveal that she knew who he was without revealing her identity as well. At this stage, that was too much of a risk.
He eased his leg back from its hold. The pressure was gone but the heat remained.
She blinked. What was he doing?
Leaning forward so his mouth grazed her ear, he answered the unspoken question. “All you have to do is say it.”
Her voice wavered as she asked, “Say what?”
“Say ‘yes, Master’ and you will be mine for the night.”
There it was. All her planning had come down to this. Everything was within her grasp and all she had to do was choose it. Her throat tightened, stifling her words as she fought the sudden rise of panic swelling within her, the irrational tears that threatened to come. No! This was what she wanted. Clearing her head, she forced herself to study Derek’s face, remember every moment they shared together. She could do this. She wanted to.
He traced half circles back and forth over the tops of her breasts and then stopped to pull the bustier back up over the tortured nipple. The leather was soft against her sensitive skin, but she longed for the wet of his mouth instead. Her mind spun. She was so aroused, so near to coming, she could barely think.
His hands moved to her upper arms and he turned her around, pulling her shoulder blades into his chest. His cock bulged through his pants, pressing against the small of her back, his solid thighs against her ass. They stood angled against the wall in a hallway overflowing with anonymous guests, but for Katrina there was no one there but them. The world ceased to spin in anticipation of her answer. It should have been easy, she’d been planning this night, waiting for her chance for months, but now she was overwhelmed by trepidation.
Did she really dare to uncover what dark desires lay behind those blue eyes that had never looked at her quite this way before?
His left hand circled around her hip and slid under the hiked skirt to her soaked G-string. Grazing her bare neck and shoulder with his teeth, he growled, “You’re so wet now. But this is nothing compared to what I could do to you.” He hooked a finger under the swatch of sodden fabric and pulled it to the side, exposing her clean-shaven pussy to the warm air swirling around them. “These panties are in my way.”
“Take them off,” she begged, gasping at the sting of the strap as it snapped off her hips almost before the last word escaped her lips.
He fingered the torn garment, bringing it up so that Katrina could see the darkened fabric, smell her own musky scent. He tucked the wet panties into the cleavage of the bustier, leaving just the crotch peeking out. Stroking down her arms from shoulders to wrists, he took her hands and pressed them against the wall. “Stay,” came the low command from behind her.
“I would tie you up, punish you,” he growled at her ear. The bullwhip was in his grip now, the handle in one hand, the slack looped in the other. Her heart skittered at the sight of it as he lowered the handle to hip level and rested it against her mound. It was thick and long and looked almost like ivory, shining, poised above her pussy in a taunt.
“I would make you obey,” he whispered, taking the soft wound leather of the whip and stroking between her lips, circling her swollen clit. Her juices seeped from her tightening core, coating her thighs with a trickle of wet.
“Take you as I desired, filling every hole any way I pleased.”
Breath entered her lungs in staggered pulls as she listened to his promises and threats.
He teased the handle between her slick folds, sending shuddering waves of pleasure through her faster than the streaks of terror could follow. “Say it.”