UNEDITED EXCERPT...A Hero to Master Me

COMING SOON!

UNEDITED EXCERPT!

A Hero to Master Me

by Marteeka Karland

There was pain in her eyes. And resignation. Mike recognized it the second she truly met his gaze, knowing him for the predator he was. Even his family had no idea what he'd really done while in the Marines. They knew it hadn't been pleasant -- one reason he never talked about it -- but most of what he'd done had been so classified Mike was surprised he hadn't been targeted for some kind of kill list. Score one for the good 'ole US of A. Black Ops only touched the surface of what he'd done, the things he'd seen. Only once had he broken protocol and he'd been thankful he hadn't lost so much of himself to the Corp that he'd followed the strict letter of his orders. He knew pain. He knew sorrow. And this woman held both in spades. Now, as then, he felt like a critical piece of his life was about to click into place. That failed mission had signaled his retirement -- his own decision. What would this lap dance do for him?

"Are you going to kick me out of my apartment," she asked. Over the din of the music and drunken laughter, it was hard to hear her, but Mike was focused on her so completely, she could have whispered the question and he'd have heard her.

"I'm taking a dance," was his matter-of-fact response.

"And if I refuse?"

"You won't."

Did she shiver? Her skin glimmered under the lights but Mike couldn't tell if it were from the lotion she used to give her skin a slight shimmer or from sweat. A sure sign of nerves.

The section she took him to created the illusion of privacy. There were dividers, but cameras still canvassed the place. No doors or solid walls. Looking around him, Mike saw silhouettes of dancers and their patrons all around him. He hated that they'd potentially have an audience but he was just damned selfish enough to take this from her.

"You can sit here," she said, gesturing to a small couch. Perfume seemed to waft from the upholstery hanging in a haze through the whole area. What he wouldn't give to get a good, unimpeded whiff of her scent. No matter. That would come later. Right now, he had work to do. Without a word, he sat. "You need to sit on your hands." Like hell.

"I know the rules," he growled. "Hands off the ladies. I won't touch you." With a grin he added, "tonight," and stretched his arms over the back of the couch.

Zaraiah swallowed, her eyes going wide. Oh yeah. she knew. Mike was ready to begin this, though he had no idea where he was going. He knew he was moving in her direction. Where they went together would ultimately be up to her, but he had the feeling she needed this as much as he did. His sexual tastes had always been more kink that vanilla, but he'd repress himself if necessary. Anything to have her. Mike was a Dominant in his heart of hearts. One reason the military had agreed with him. But in bed, he craved dominating a woman just to see her blossom under his touch. Could he give that up for her?

Absolutely!

When he nodded for her to begin. Zarriah gave a defeated sigh, her shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted. Then she began to dance.

The sensual sway of her hips mesmerized Mike as she moved around him. Her movements should have looked practiced. Instead, she was naturally sensual, as if her dance had always been for him alone. In that moment, Mike felt like he was the only man in her world. Thank God he'd sent the two pups away before they'd gotten a look at her like this. Mike was sure he'd have lost his ever loving shit if they had. As it was, he knew this was her last night in this place. She was his. Pure and simple. Now, he just had to convince her of it.

With a sigh, she gave herself up to the music, dipping in front of him, rubbing and stroking his thighs. Naturally, Mike's mind went straight to one theme and he nearly groaned out loud. Now wasn't the time. He had to have complete control of himself. Figuring her out would take some doing, but he was confident he could unravel this mystery. Melanie said she'd seemed restless. Like she needed something. Looking at her now, he could see the fine muscle underneath all that silky looking skin. She was obviously athletic. More than just dancing. There was evidence of hard work in her limbs and torso. Did she work out? If so, it had to involve more than weight training. She was too nimble and graceful. As she twirled around, presenting him with the perfectly rounded globes of her ass, he saw it. His breath caught.

Just above the dimple at the small of her back, was a tiny tattoo. The symbol? A sword standing on end with a snake wrapped around it. Zaraiah was a fucking combat medic. He'd bet his life on it. A few more things clicked into place. The anxiousness. Restlessness. If she hadn't had time to adjust to civi life, she was likely feeling the need for action. The superb condition of her body said she was either newly discharged or continued her daily workouts to ease the stress. But why had she taken up stripping instead of using her skills in the civilian world?

Right. With an ass like hers, why wouldn't she. She had to make more doing this  than she could as an EMT. But, if she did this regularly, why not get a more up scale apartment? Perhaps her boyfriend had frowned on her working here more than a night or two a month? Mike knew he sure would. Hell, he wouldn't want her to at all! Not because he looked down at her or her chosen profession, but he was a territorial bastard. He wanted no eyes on his woman but him. And, God help him, Zaraiah Nelson was his woman.

When Zaraiah bent to scratch her nails up his thighs, then up his chest, raising herself up to straddle him, Mike nearly forgot why it was so important to stay in control. She had the power here, but his dominant nature demanded he prove that he was the one calling the shots.

"You look relaxed," she commented, tilting her head as if she found him intriguing. "Most men are generally struggling to keep their hands to themselves."

"Oh, make no mistake, I want my hands on you right now."

"You don't look like you do." Did she look...disappointed? Hurt?

"I can't touch you, so why try to do what would get me tossed out on my ear. I'm not leaving your side tonight. As much as this situation...tempts me, get used to me. I'm not going anywhere."

Her breath hitched before she got control again. "You know you can't monopolize my time. I have work to do."

"That you do. And you'll do it with me. I'll pay for your time and you'll do as I command."

She grinned at him then, a breathtaking display of dimpled cheeks that nearly took his breath. "I doubt the manager would approve."

"You let me worry about that."

For the first time, she let her facade falter, her gaze looking stricken for the briefest moment. "Mr. Carver, I don't want you to pay for my time."

"Mike," he said.

"That's not appropriate." With a shaky breath, she gingerly rested her hands on his shoulders. "Are you going to use this against me?"

"Not in the way you're obviously thinking." Mike wanted her anxious. Nervous. He had plans for the little beauty on his lap but they didn't include her prostituting herself. For him or anyone else.

"If not that, then what?"

"Melanie said your boyfriend was gone. Is that true?" She bit her bottom lip before starting to slide off his lap. "No!" His command was sharp, an order to be obeyed even though his hands stayed resting on the back of the couch, not clutching her hips and urging her forward. The Army inside her responded. As did the woman. Before his eyes, her nipples hardened to tight peaks around her piercings, their color darkening subtly. Mike doubted she was even aware of the little whimper that escaped her. "You stay where you are until I tell you to move. Understood."

She gave a shaky nod, sliding her body back on his lap fully. The move was purely sensual, a glide up his rigid cock with her silken clad sex. Had the situation been different, Mike's eyes would have rolled back in his head and he'd have gripped her hips digging his fingers in to keep her close. As it was, he let her move, his gaze remaining fixed on her lovely, honey colored eyes.

"Tell me why he left."

Zaraiah paused in her movements, a confused look on her face. "You want to know this now?"

"Yes. And don't stop your dance."

A shudder seemed to flutter through, as if the idea of having a serious conversation with her straddling his lap in only a thong wasn't so much surreal as titillating.

"I--" she swallowed. "You're crazy."

"Now, Zaraiah." He kept his voice firm, knowing what he had to do to get the information from her, what she'd respond to the easiest.

She cleared her throat, pausing her movements only briefly before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I was Army," she began. "Field medic. I saw a lot of action. It...affected me. John couldn't deal with it and finally left."

"I gathered as much," Mike said. "I saw the tattoo on your back. There's more you're not telling me."

"Maybe," she said, lifting her chin, her first real show of defiance with him. "But that's all I'm telling you."

"Then ride me."

She did. 

Illicit

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EXCERPT!

Life was hard. Anyone who said otherwise was a goddamned liar. Still, Celestine knew there had to be a better way than this. Born to a drug-addicted hooker, her life had been bad enough. But when her mother sold her to the aliens as a “chosen,” she’d known everything had been about to change, and not necessarily for the better.

Now, she stood before the biggest man she’d ever seen. A man who looked like he could break her in half with little effort. What had she done to deserve this?

“I -- I have a message.” She stumbled on the simple sentence in her nervousness.

The man took the micro SD card from her trembling fingers, holding her gaze as he did so. Funny she should notice his eyes were the color of rich brandy -- a dark amber with flecks of yellow and green that seemed to make them glow. She hastily looked away, not liking the intensity of that gaze.

“Do you know what the message says?” His voice was rich. Deep. If she were in any other situation, she might find the sound pleasing. As it was, he only intimidated her more when he spoke.

Unable to force herself to speak again, she simply shook her head. She didn’t know, but she had a good idea. Over the past couple of months, she’d picked up enough of her captors’ language to understand they were offering this man some kind of bargain. A trade. Celestine had the horrible suspicion she was the trade. They’d lined her up with several women, inspected them all like a farmer might inspect a horse he intended to buy, then, after much discussion and several more inspections, they’d finally chosen Celestine. The only upside? They’d left her untouched. Celestine had heard the screams of the other women in the nights following her selection and knew she was glad she’d been spared.

How would this end for her now?

“Well…” The man indicated she should precede him into the room where he had his computer console set up. An office? “Let’s see what Jorak has to say, shall we?”

The audio file was in that same strange language, but Celestine knew enough to know she’d been right. Jorak was offering her as a token of peace. In exchange for her, Jorak wanted this man gone from his station and the Lunar Colony. When the clip ended, the man sat in front of the computer screen, one finger curled over his chin in concentration.

Celestine had heard him called Drac of Cluath, mostly in contexts that indicated he wasn’t somebody she wanted to fuck with. She didn’t know what his job was, but she knew she’d think twice before trying to escape him, and then only if she knew there was a more than reasonable chance she’d succeed.

“Well,” he said without looking at her. “It seems you’ll be in my care for a time.”

This surprised her. “You’re leaving the Lunar colony, then?”

He turned his head slowly, fixing that sharp, penetrating gaze on her. “No. But I have to make Jorak think I’ve accepted his… gift.”

A sense of dread and fear washed over Celestine and she started trembling, suddenly cold. “Are you going to hurt me?” She asked the question quietly, accepting she had no power in this situation but needing to know what he planned to do with her.

“Not unless you give me a reason to.” His answer sent another wave of shivers through her. This man truly meant what he said. Celestine could see it in his eyes. He had no plans to harm her, but wouldn’t hesitate to if the situation called for it. “I would have your name, girl.”

“Celestine,” she said, knowing denying him would only put her in a worse position than she was already in. Best to choose her battles carefully.

With an impatient growl, he scrubbed a hand hard over his face. “Well, Celestine, this is the last thing I need,” he muttered. After a brief moment, he looked at her again. “You will call me Drac,” he said, making it a decree. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. Food was the last thing she was thinking about. Unfortunately, her stomach chose that moment to protest her denial. Loudly.

“I see,” he said with a snort. “Not hungry at all.” Drac rose and punched a few buttons on a console. Seconds later, he had a steaming plate of some heavenly-smelling substance. Celestine’s eyes widened at the quantity. She’d never seen that much food in her life, unless it was in a trash receptacle. “Eat. I can’t have you starving in my care.”

At least he was being kind. If she could keep him happy, maybe he’d continue to treat her well. Though what would he expect for his kindness? Would she become the same kind of whore as her mother? Celestine stiffened at the thought. Would she be the kind of woman who’d sell her own daughter for the next fix?

Celestine wanted to be defiant, to let this man know he couldn’t bend her to his will, but the smell of the food, the emptiness in her stomach, proved too much. One bite led to another. And another. She didn’t even know what she was eating, but it tasted so very good! Before she realized it, she was shoveling the succulent meal into her mouth as fast as she could.

Drac didn’t say anything. In fact, he was so silent she briefly forgot about him until he set a cold glass of milk next to her plate. Celestine’s gaze shot to his, her lips parting as she realized how she must look. Mortified, she immediately put down her fork and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.

For several long moments, she sat there, head down, refusing to admit she needed more. Why did she have to be so proud? Her mother certainly wasn’t. Celestine hadn’t been raised to be proud. One took what one could get and didn’t ask too many questions.

“If you won’t finish on your own, I’ll have to feed you.” That deep, rumbling voice vibrated inside her. Celestine couldn’t decide if it was pleasing or not. She supposed it depended on his mood. At present, the sound was almost soothing, though she had the feeling he was having to work at it. “If I have to feed you, I’ll expect… compensation for my trouble.”

Celestine winced, hating that he was bullying her into what he wanted, yet not willing to find out what he’d demand in payment. Finally, she picked up her fork and started eating again, albeit more slowly this time.

They sat in silence for quite some time, Drac refilling her plate once and her glass twice before he seemed satisfied. Celestine had never been so full in her life. Again, he looked her up and down as if inspecting an animal he intended to buy.

“You could use a bath,” he observed. “And clean clothes.” He crossed massive arms over a massive chest. “The first I can help with readily. The second might be a bit of a problem.”

“I can manage,” she said, standing, smoothing her tunic over her body, very aware of his gaze on her.

“I’m sure you can. But I prefer to make sure it’s done right.”

At first she thought he might be teasing, but his eyes never wavered from hers, and he looked like he had every intention of following her into the bathroom.

“I’m serious,” she insisted, starting to panic. There was no way Celestine would let this man, no matter how much he intimidated her, force her to be like her mother.

“So am I,” he intoned, taking her elbow and ushering her inside the bathroom.

The room was more spacious than the flat she’d shared with her mother. The bathtub, while not overly large, was quite a bit bigger than the one that doubled as a shower in her old home.

Without a word, Drac crossed to the tub and turned on the water, adjusting it to his liking. As it filled, he turned to her, leaning one hip lazily against the wall, one eyebrow raised.

“Undress and get in the bath.” His voice sent shivers through her, though Celestine wasn’t sure if they were good or bad. On the one hand, if she were going to raise her skirt for a man, it would probably be Drac. On the other, he was forcing her into a situation where she had no choice, treating Celestine no better than a hooker.

“Not with you in the room.” Celestine raised her chin, trying to stand firm. Unfortunately, Drac was having none of it.

“You will undress, or I’ll undress you myself.” He didn’t raise his voice at all, but the underlying menace was there all the same.

Celestine swallowed, not wanting to give in but not really having a choice. Pride wouldn’t let her comply with his wishes, but fear made her want to. Unfortunately, pride won out over fear. Until he lunged for her, grasping her tunic and ripping it down the center until it lay at her feet in two pieces.

“I’m not in the habit of giving instructions twice.”

The worst part about the whole affair was that Drac’s expression never changed. His eyes were as cold as a glacier, his face impassive. If her nakedness affected him, Celestine couldn’t detect it.

“Now,” he continued. “Into the tub.”

She hesitated a moment, but did as he bade, sitting in the warm water, tucking her knees under her chin and hugging them tightly. Drac waited, regarding her for a moment. With a sigh, he began removing his own clothing.

“No!” Celestine breathed, her chest heaving, panic beginning to set in. “I’ll wash.” With a desperate lunge, she reached for the cleansing gel with shaking hands, squirting a generous amount onto the cloth lying on the edge of the tub.

Without waiting to see if she’d appeased him, Celestine began scrubbing herself vigorously, trying to hide her nakedness as best she could while giving herself a thorough washing. It wasn’t until the water sloshed and Drac’s big body slid smoothly into the tub behind her that she realized there would be no managing him easily.

“I’m washing,” she squeaked.

“And I told you I wasn’t in the habit of repeating myself. From now on, if you don’t do as you’re told the first time, I will take matters into my own hands.”

Drac took the cloth from her hands and smoothed it first over her arms, then her back. Shoulders hunched, knees tucked tighter into her chest, Celestine tried her best not to flinch with every stroke across her skin.

“You scrubbed your arms so hard you’ve reddened your skin,” he observed. “Was there a reason?”

She shrugged. “I was doing what you told me to.”

“I see,” he said. Celestine got the uncomfortable impression he saw much more than she wanted him to. When she remained silent he continued. “Tell me about your life on Earth. Why were you with Jorak’s group? Why did you agree to sacrifice yourself for their cause?”

Celestine thought about not answering, but she knew he’d get it out of her one way or another. As she’d discovered so far, Drac took what he wanted. The quicker one gave it to him, the easier the taking was.

“I didn’t agree to anything. If I had my way, I’d still be back on Earth.”

“I see. Your life there was content, then?”

She started to answer in the affirmative, but the words died on her lips. When she answered, it was with more honesty than she’d intended. “It wasn’t that great. But I knew what to expect. I could prepare myself for it, good or bad.”

“And now you have no idea what life has in store for you.”

Celestine didn’t answer, but then Drac didn’t seem to expect an answer. He just continued to run the cloth over her skin. Until he wrung out the cloth, tossed it over the side of the tub, and squirted the cleansing gel into his palms and started using his hands instead.

The rough, calloused texture wasn’t unpleasant, though Celestine couldn’t help but stiffen, anticipating the worst. Especially when he slipped his hands under her arms, skimming the sides of her breasts with his fingertips in the process. A little whimper escaped her throat. Drac stopped, as if gauging her reaction.

“Do you hurt?”

Of all the things she expected, that question was not it. Why would he care if she were in pain? “No.”

“I see,” he said again. And, again, Celestine knew he saw far more than she wanted him to. “So you dislike being touched. Or is it my touch specifically?”

“I’m not a whore,” she whispered, barely able to get it out past the lump in her throat, past her embarrassment and indignation. Celestine wanted so badly to have a different life than her mother. So far, the new life promised to other Chosen wasn’t turning out so different from her old life.

“Have I treated you as such?”

“I’m naked and in a bath with a man I don’t know. He’s rubbing his hands all over me. How is that not a prelude to sex?” Her words came out clipped, terse. Far differently than they should have given her situation. “I may not be getting paid for my services, but it’s obvious it’s what you expect.”

Drac was silent for a moment, never halting his ministrations to her body. More cleansing gel, more massaging her back and arms. Her neck. The sides of her legs. Everywhere he could reach. Never did he urge her to move her arms or legs so he could go places she wasn’t sure she could surrender willingly. “You are in the bath because you needed to feel clean. I am in the bath with you because you seemed unable to tend to yourself and because you needed to understand I meant what I said. I don’t give orders twice.” He stood then, water sluicing from his body to hers. Celestine chanced a look over her shoulder. He’d left on his underwear, which were encasing a massive cock that tented the wet material angrily. “Had I intended to avail myself of the kind of service you fear, have no doubt that, not only would I have forgone the bath in order to sample your considerable charms, but you would have begged me to.”

BUY!

AMAZON!

Mike Carver...Coming Soon!

A Mom for Christmas

EXCERPT!

Sebastian knew he was in trouble the second the movie started. Nightmare Before Christmas Great. The second it started, Sadira started scaring the girls. She quickly got Zoe recruited to help and the two of them proceeded to terrorize Jessica and Rebecca, though everyone ruined the effect with all the peals of laughter. Soon, all of them were buried into his sides during the “scary parts.” Zoe wrapped her arms and legs around him while Jessica and Rebecca both jockeyed for position on one side of him. When Sadira had given him a satisfied smile, as if she’d done it all on purpose, he’d snagged her arm and pulled her into the other side. With a giggle and a sigh, she’d snuggled into him. It struck Sebastian then that this was what families did. Even when he and Dedra hadn’t had issues, they’d never sat together like this and watched scary movies.

Once the scary show was over, Sadira put in a cheery family show, declaring one horror movie was enough. All three girls groaned and protested—even Zoe—but with more popcorn and Sadira’s brownies, they settled in again. By the time the second movie was over, it was well past midnight and the girls were all fast asleep, including Rebecca.

Sebastian had managed to keep Sadira beside him during the second movie, his arm resting on the back of the sofa behind her. This was what he wanted. What he’d always wanted. In that moment, his path became clear. Sadira was his. Theirs. Some way, somehow, he was going to convince her she belonged with them.

“It’s late,” he said, rubbing her shoulder, urging her closer to him. Sadira allowed the contact, giving a contented sigh as she snuggled against him. With the girls safely asleep and oblivious to the adults in the house, it seemed Sadira enjoyed the closeness as well.

“Yeah. Told you I should have taken my car.”

He chuckled. “Now, why would I have done that when it got you here, trapped in my home with the wicked king of the castle?”

She stiffened, but her hands clutched at his shirt. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” he said, leaning down to nip her ear gently. It was the first overtly sexual gesture he’d made to her. How would she respond?

“‘Bastian?”

Sweet Jesus, she just had to drawl his name with all that sensuality he’d observed when she just walked across the room. Hearing it in her voice as she shortened his name to an intimate form shot straight through him like an erotic punch. Straight to his groin.

“You know you can’t say my name like that, in that tone of voice and not expect me to kiss you.”

“Darn it,” she said, sounding more like a purr than regret. “But I supposed if you must…”

She met him halfway, touching her lips to his delicately. The contact seemed to send an electrical current surging through Sebastian, need slamming into him harder than it had in living memory. She smelled like heaven. All warm honeysuckle and woman.

After several long seconds, Sadira pulled back, relaxing against him once again. “So, what do we do now? I hadn’t really expected something like this to happen, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

The joy inside him was equaled only by budding hope. Could he finally find the mother his girls needed as well as the woman he needed? Could he make her happy?

BUY!

Taken by the Wolf King

Are you ready?

A Wolf King she can never have…
Leif Wolfheart: Tempted by a dark-skinned beauty he can’t figure out, he struggles to put aside his own needs in order to save his people from continued slavery.

A mysterious woman whose beauty is matched only by her treachery…

Elsa Thorne: Caught between deadly politics and a man bent on claiming her, all she can afford to focus on is saving her children. At any cost.

Betrayed…

Captured, tortured, and maddened by pain, Leif vows revenge on the woman he would have made his queen. But will his hatred of what she was forced to do build a wall between them that can never be torn down?

***

EXCERPT:


"Leif," she pleaded. "J-just calm down. Don't fight them, they'll only hurt you worse!"

"Elsa?" Already he was preparing for battle, his body growing bigger, stronger. The sound of ripping cloth was loud in the night as his clothing was unable to contain his growing musculature.

"P-please! Just go with them!" She sobbed openly now, hurting more than she could ever remember. Always she had to think of Jaccob and Surriah, but having to consciously make this kind of decision was killing her. "Don't hurt him!" Soldiers seemed to come from everywhere, dozens of them. All for one man. Leif. Her man. And she couldn't do a goddamned thing about it without risking the lives of her children.

With a roar of pure rage and menace, Leif exploded into violence, killing several men within seconds. Blood and gore streaked through the air, painting the concrete walk and the dirt surrounding it. Elsa steadily backed away. Never had she seen anything so completely and utterly out of control.

As she watched in horror, he killed man after man. The gruesome sight was more than she'd ever imagined he'd have to deal with. She'd thought maybe three of four men would come for him. Maybe even a handful. But this...

Leif slaughtered without mercy, his eyes glowing an eerie blue the longer he fought. Always, his gaze strayed to her. Even in the face of her betrayal, he still fought to keep himself between her and the guards. The coppery scent of blood hung heavily as body parts and gore shot through the air like a bomb blast. Never had she witnessed such carnage. Such wrath.

Openly sobbing now, Elsa collapsed onto the ground, wanting to close her eyes against such violence but unable to tear her gaze away. She'd led Leif to this destruction. The least she could do was bear witness.

Finally, one of the soldiers fired an electrically charged weapon. Two wires protruded from Leif's chest. The big man seemed to hardly notice as he batted the electrodes away only for them to be replaced by two more. Then more. Another pair. His muscles seemed to contract and spasm even as he roared in fury, unable to break the hold of the currents going through him.

"Knock the bastard out!"

"With what? Damned dog is too strong for the Tasers."

"Get a fucking rock then! Just knock him the fuck out!"

"No!" Elsa screamed. "Leif! No!" She couldn't watch this, couldn't see them bash him into unconsciousness.

Leif's eyes met hers as the rock came down, stunning him. He shook his head, his gaze blurry but returning to her eyes unerringly. "Betrayed...me..." he managed to grit out between his teeth.

"I'm so sorry! Ah, God, Leif! I'm sorry!" She sobbed brokenly, but she could tell it didn't affect him. In fact, he looked murderous.

"I will make you pay," he managed.

BUY!