Claiming Her Beasts Book One

by Dia Cole

  Adding to the chaos were the half a dozen children racing from one end of the basketball court to the other, their joy a dark mirror to their parents’ anxiety and fear.

  Not finding my mate there, I searched adjacent rooms. The boys’ locker room was empty, but a faint echo of voices drew me deeper inside the girls’ locker room. I flew through the restroom stalls and lockers before finally finding Lee and her family in the shower area.

  Reed lay on the white-tiled floor, a shirt bunched under his neck.

  Eden, who was free of handcuffs and shackles, cleaned dried blood from his forehead. “Stop worrying, sissy. It’s a mild concussion.”

  Lee, who was pacing back and forth under the showerheads, whirled around. “I’m sorry, did I miss you getting your medical degree?”

  Eden ignored my mate’s sarcasm. “His pupils aren’t dilated and his breathing and color look good. There’s some bruising and swelling, but he’ll be fine.”

  “You were a vet assistant, Edie. He needs to see a nurse or a doctor. There has to be someone in the gym that can help him.” Lee started to walk out.

  “Let me go,” Eden said as she stood. “You'll scare the kids.”

  Lee frowned. “It’s just a little blood.”

  “You’re stanky, sissy.”

  “You’re stankier,” my mate shot back.

  “Not possible. I’m going to grab some food from the vending machine before I start my doctor search, so you have time for a quick shower,” Eden called out as she left the locker room.

  Lee looked down at her bloody clothing and made a face. Then, giving Reed a quick glance, she walked to the open shower in the corner of the room and undressed.

  Her bare skin drew me like a beacon. Transfixed, I floated next to her and watched her turn the water on.

  She let out a muffled shriek when the icy spray hit her, and her nipples went stiff as berries. Berries, I longed to taste.

  As the water turned steaming hot, tension seemed to leave her shoulders. She found an abandoned bottle on the floor and began lathering herself down with its contents.

  Seeing her hands move over her lush curves filled me with the need to reclaim every inch of her body.

  Without even a flicker of indecision, I dove into Reed. I sensed the cocksucker attempting to regain consciousness, but it was easy enough to shove him aside and take control. A split-second later, I opened my new eyes and sat up. My head throbbed, but the dull pain was easy enough to ignore when my female was standing naked just a few feet away.

  Lee faced the wall, her head under the streaming water. She didn’t seem to hear me tear off the clothes I was wearing and pad barefoot over to her.

  When I reached out to touch her back, she whirled around. Blinking furiously through the water running down her face, she said, “Thank God,” and threw herself into my arms.

  I groaned at how good her wet body felt pressed against me. My cock turned to stone and throbbed between us.

  She jumped back, flushing. “Oh, um. You want to shower? I’m just finishing up.”

  “No, dirty dancer. I don’t want to shower. I want to fuck you.” I stepped under the showerhead. The spraying water made the cuts and bruises on my face sting like a bitch, but I ignored them. All my focus was on my mate.

  She retreated until her back pressed against the wall. “Reed—”

  “I’m not Reed,” I said, bringing my mouth down on hers.

  She gasped against my lips. Her hands pressed against my scarred chest as if to push me away, but then they twined around my neck. “We can’t,” she moaned against my lips. “Not here.”

  I deepened our kiss.

  Her tongue danced with mine as my hands roamed her slick skin. When I cupped her breast and thumbed her nipples, she broke our kiss to let out a ragged moan.

  I scraped my mouth down her jaw and then lavished my attention on her incredible breasts.

  Her breath came faster and sharper as I sucked her swollen nipples.

  When I’d finally gotten my fill, I knelt down and laved her belly button ring with my tongue. The shiny piece of jewelry captivated me as much now as it had back in the club.

  "Reed," she said again, the name sounding like a plea.

  "Not Reed." Hot water scalded my back as I grabbed her leg and draped it over my shoulder.

  Thrown off balance, she braced her hands against the wall. “What are you—?” Her question turned into a long moan when I buried my face between her legs.

  Her sweet honey taste was so addictive. I’d licked her to three orgasms before the sound of a gasp had me jerking my head around.

  Eden stood across the locker room wearing a shocked expression. “I—I’ll be in the gym.” With a squeak, she turned and ran.

  “Oh, God.” Lee closed her eyes and let the back of her head hit the wall. “She’ll never let me hear the end of this.”

  “Let’s make it worthwhile then.” Giving her a wicked grin, I reclined back on the floor and yanked her down on top of me.

  “Reed,” she said breathlessly, her entrance poised over the tip of my cock.

  “I told you. I’m not Reed.” I gripped her hips and slammed up into her tight, wet heat.

  She let out a hiss, her body trembling.

  Fuck. She’s probably sore from earlier. Cursing myself for being a brute, I went still. “We can stop.” As much as I wanted her, I refused to bring her pain.

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. Then she began to ride me. Initially, she moved slowly. Then, faster and faster. Soon her dizzying pace made my eyes cross and my balls ache with the need to spill inside her.

  I fought for self-control, wanting to make our encounter last.

  She made it near impossible with the way she circled her hips.

  Keening sounds escaped her lips as her muscles tensed and her eyes went unseeing. Knowing she was close, I ground my pelvis against her clit.

  She threw back her head and screamed so loud I imagined Dom could hear her orgasming outside.

  A burst of masculine satisfaction rolled through me. “You’re mine,” I exclaimed.

  Her spasming pussy clamped down so hard on me I saw stars. Unable to hold back, I came with a shout that echoed through the empty locker room.

  Panting, Lee pushed her wet hair out of her face. “That was even better than last time, Not Reed.”

  Incapable of speaking, I grunted and dragged her over me. As I held her tightly under the hot spray of the shower, something that felt a lot like hope stirred inside my chest.

  All was not lost. My twin brother was alive somewhere. I’d discovered a way to be with my mate. And although I was bound to my enemy, I’d found a way to slip his leash. Using this body, or another, I’d make Dom pay for his crimes.

  Soon, I’d be free of him and anyone else who would seek to control me. Then, with my mate by my side, I’d make a new life in whatever remained of this world.

  Ghost was right. Opportunity came from chaos and I was going to seize it by its motherfucking throat.

  Smiling against my mate’s wet hair, I let myself relax for the first time in a very long time.

  “Sooo,” a voice drawled inside my head. “Am I still hallucinating?”

  The adventure continues with Claiming Her Beasts Book Two…

  Live by his rules or die by them…

  The city fell. Help never came. Now our lives depend on playing by Dominic’s punishing rules. But the icy-cold sergeant’s brutal tactics and questionable motives make him just as dangerous as the monsters outside.

  Even worse, my visceral attraction to Dominic and a deadly shifter is pushing Reed further into insanity. His bouts of amnesia and animalistic rages may force me to make a soul-shattering choice—love or survival?

  DID YOU ENJOY CLAIMING HER BEASTS BOOK ONE?

  I’d be so appreciative if you left a review on Amazon or any other reader site or blog you frequent.

  To get your FREE copy of the steamy reverse harem novel
la Claiming the Bride click here!

  About the Author

  Dia wanted to be a writer from the time she could hold a pencil. A lover of paranormal romance, reverse harem, science fiction, urban fantasy, and horror, she writes action-packed stories featuring kick-butt heroines and the alpha male heroes who fall for them.

  You can find her books on amazon.

  If you want to be notified when the next book in the series releases please sign up for my newsletter.

  You can follow Dia on:

  https://diacole.com/

  Books By Dia Cole

  Claiming the Bride (FREE)

  Claiming The Nanny

  Claiming Her Mates: Book One

  Claiming Her Mates: Book One Bonus Scene FREE!

  Claiming Her Mates: Book Two

  Claiming Her Mates: Book Three

  Claiming Her Mates Series Collection

  Claiming the Wardens

  Claiming Her Beasts: Book One

  Claiming Her Beasts: Book Two

  Excerpt from Claiming Her Mates: Book One

  1

  Havana

  “What do you want for Christmas, you naughty girl?” asked the middle-aged man leering at me. The light from the dusty chandelier reflected off the gold band on his left hand, temporarily blinding me.

  He probably told his wife he was working late. Ugh. Years of playing my seductive role prevented me from curling my lip in disdain. Instead, I continued undulating to the beat of the dance music being piped into the small red velvet VIP room.

  “Come on, you can tell me,” the man insisted, stroking his Santa-like white beard.

  I should’ve been coy with my answer, but the truth sprang from my lips before I could bite back the words. “Someone to share it with.”

  The man blinked up at me with blood-shot eyes.

  Great, Vana, why don’t you just kill the mood? Trying to salvage the moment, I tossed back my hip-length black hair and winked playfully. “Is that someone you?” With a practiced flick of my fingers, I slowly removed my silver-studded black top and tossed it to the man.

  He tried to catch it and missed. The tiny scrap of material slithered to the blood-red carpet as he fixed his gaze on my swaying bare breasts.

  “Have you been a bad boy this year?”

  “Y-yes,” he stammered. His eyes glazed over as he swayed in his seat.

  He must be trashed. Good. A drunk and his money are soon parted. Throwing club rules out the window, I stepped down from the small raised platform I was dancing on and approached his chair. “Then you need to be punished.”

  “Yes, Mistress Robin,” he gasped. Unlike most of the club patrons intrigued by my dominatrix persona, this one seemed truly snared by the fantasy. For the right price, I was happy to indulge him.

  I cast a furtive glance at the camera nestled at the base of the chandelier. In the past, Max, the club owner, might’ve skinned me alive if he’d caught me doing a little extra on the side. Now he’d only ask for a percentage.

  Times were tough for everyone. Strip clubs included. Case in point, this guy managed to secure a private dance from me for a mere seventy bucks, something that would’ve been unheard of before the canine flu hit this past spring. But global pandemics had a way of changing things.

  I leaned over the man, my nipples grazing his rumpled tweed vest. “It’ll cost you.”

  “I have money.” He reached into his olive dress pants pocket and pulled out a worn leather wallet with trembling hands. “How much?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “How much do you have?”

  He opened his wallet and out fluttered several receipts.

  Sadly, it looked like he had only a handful of twenties, but it was better than going home broke. “That works,” I purred. I wouldn’t have sex with him, of course, but men like him weren’t after that anyway. Years ago, my mom explained some men get off as much on pain and humiliation as they did pleasure. Ah, the joys of having a stripper mom. While other kids were learning how to ride bikes, Mom was giving me crash courses in the various ways to seduce men. Big surprise I ended up at the same club where she used to work.

  The man swallowed hard, sweat dripping off him as if he was in a sauna. “Take it all.” He pushed his wallet at me.

  I found myself staring at a family photo. Gathered in the arms of a heavyset woman were three young children. I couldn’t help glancing between the professor and the photo. Why isn’t he home with them? Hell, if I’d had kids there’s no way I wouldn’t be with them right now. With a pang, I remembered the big amber eyes of the little girl I’d used to nanny for. I miss Mira so much…

  Her father’s handsome face flashed in my mind and my throat tightened. It’d been three months since Nathan shattered my heart, but the pain was still fresh. Trying to put my ex out of my mind, I flipped past the photo and found the twenties. Mentally tallying the money, I pulled out the folded bills and slid them into the top of my thigh-high stiletto boot. A genuine smile tugged at the corner of my lips, it was a better haul than I’d anticipated. “Take off your clothes, Dr. Sullivan.”

  He gaped at me for a moment.

  I tossed his wallet back at him not bothering to explain that I’d seen his Southern Arizona University ID badge inside. “I said, take off your clothes. Now.”

  He jumped to his feet. “Yes, Mistress Robin.” He gazed up at me adoringly.

  My five-foot-ten height plus my seven-inch stilettos ensured I towered over nearly everyone I encountered, including the professor.

  He fumbled with the top buttons of his oxford shirt before realizing he needed to remove his vest first.

  “Fold your clothes and place them over there,” I instructed, pointing at the side table that in better days held ice buckets filled with Cristal. Now a bottle of drugstore champagne swam in a plastic tub of melted ice.

  He practically tore off his vest and shirt. As he unbuckled his belt, he turned to face me. “I’ve never done this before.”

  I made a noncommittal noise. Right. That’s what they all say. Finally noticing his bare torso, I inhaled sharply. What the hell? Black veins covered the man’s flabby arms and a portion of his silver-haired chest. I’d seen some strange-looking tattoos over the years, but nothing like that. Unable to help myself, I asked, “What’s going on there?”

  The man looked down and paled. “My God. Those weren’t there this morning.” He gave me a frantic look as if I had the answers.

  I backed up a step studying his bloodshot eyes, pale skin, and sweaty face with new eyes. He’s not just drunk. “You're sick.” And that meant I needed to get as far away from him as possible. I’d never heard of the canine flu causing dark veins like that, but you don’t mess around with a bug that killed a quarter of the world’s population.

  He raised his hands. “I’m not. I just got the canine flu vaccine yesterday,” he said, mentioning the coveted shots the CDC had just rolled out. “I-I don’t feel so good.” His knees buckled, and he fell back into his chair.

  Shit. “I’ll get help.” Max will know what to do. I turned to grab the curtain.

  “No. My wife. She can’t find out…” he gasped sliding to the floor.

  Damn. If the guy passed out in my VIP room, I’d never hear the end of it from the other girls. Especially Jess. That nasty redhead would love to get one over on me. She’d been downright venomous since I reported one of her stupid pranks to Max. Who the hell coats the stage steps with baby oil? Seriously. I’d taken a nasty fall and probably fractured my spine, not that I could afford to get my aching back looked at by a doctor.

  “Please, don’t call Sharon,” the professor wheezed bringing my focus back to him.

  “No one will call your wife. Just relax. I’ll be right back.” I bent down, retrieved my top and tied it back on.

  He nodded, flashing me a relieved look.

  I blinked. Are more of his veins darkening? Shuddering, I pushed through the heavy velvet curtain door and rushed down a long hallway back into the main
club. Immediately I was assaulted by the smell of liquor, cigarette smoke, and the twang of the latest hit country single. On the stage, the new girl, Jade, twirled around the pole in a cowboy hat and crotchless chaps. Poor girl, I thought with a stab of sympathy. Max had wanted me to cover Jess’s country set after she was a no-show for the second time this week, but I’d talked him into having the new girl do it. Good experience and all. Seeing her dance to a sea of empty tables filled me with guilt. No one even watched. Sly, one of the regulars, was already passed out and the group of dark-haired men sitting in the back of the club ignored her.

  As if feeling my gaze, one of the heavily tattooed men looked up at me. He gave me a once-over and flashed me a dazzling set of gold teeth. The long-haired man sitting next to him followed his friend’s gaze and leered at me with a predatory intensity that made me glad for the knife hidden in my boot. A girl couldn’t be too careful these days.

  I bit back a shiver of fear as the long-haired man beckoned me over. Their gang, the Calaveras, was one of the deadliest in Arizona and I needed their kind of attention like I needed an engineering degree. Ignoring the men and their menacing vibe, I scanned the rest of the near empty club for Max.

  He was at the bar, eyes glued to the television along with Donna, the cocktail waitress, and Justin, the gray-haired bartender who looked like he’d been a defensive lineman back in the day. I’d always wondered why he had a television at his bar. I mean who comes to a strip club to watch TV?

  Donna looked up as I approached. “Honey, you need to see this. There’s some freaky shit going down.” She ran a hand through her bleach blond hair, knocking aside the felt Santa hat she was wearing.

  I shook my head. “Tell me about it. I got a guy covered in black veins about to pass out in the VIP room.”