by Terra Wolf
“Okay…” She was a bit reluctant, but also curious and excited about the idea. Sure, she had read a couple of romance novels while at Alma Venus, but the sexy bits had always been more on the sweet, vanilla side. This was all new to her. Her jumper was now in the way, so she grabbed it herself and pulled it over her head, making more of a mess of her fluffy hair.
“You don’t have to do anything. Maybe just hold your tits like that with your hands.”
He showed her how, and she did what he told her.
“Yes, like that. Now sit back and enjoy.”
His cock fit perfectly between her full breasts, and as Max started moving his hips, Avelyn didn’t know where to look. Her eyes drank in the sight of his strong chest and his perfectly-defined abs contracting with every thrust. Because she was holding her boobs for him, his hands were free to squeeze them here and there. His thumbs found her hard nipples and started drawing circles around them, flicking them, and pressing gently, making her push her chest forward into his skilled palms. The way his cock moved up and down between her breasts fascinated her. It all made her feel like a sinful, naughty girl who had tasted the forbidden fruit and, now, nothing else could bring her satisfaction. She watched the engorged head disappear between her breasts only to re-emerge bigger and redder, and wondered if she was going to like the taste of his cum, because from that position it was quite clear that he was going to shoot all over her face and chest. She bit her lower lip in anticipation.
Max’s thrusts became erratic, and Avelyn could see the muscles in his abdomen and thighs tightening. He was moaning loudly now, and his thumbs were pressing harder on her nipples. The first stream of cum barely missed her chin, so she leaned in, mouth open wide, eager to have a taste. Seeing her like that, Max whispered her name in his deep, husky voice. He shot the white liquid right on her tongue, coating her lips and cheeks. She even had some on her pretty nose, and her neck and breasts were bathed in it. He thrust a few more times, and when he stopped, Avelyn leaned all the way in and cleaned the tip of his cock with her naughty tongue. He let go of her breasts and thread his fingers through her disheveled hair, slowly massaging her scalp. He was rewarded with a low moan that wasn’t very far from a purr.
“Wow! That was… unexpected,” he said smiling.
She finished licking him and raised her eyes to meet his. Her smile was playful and mischievous.
“I hope I wasn’t that bad.”
“Are you kidding me? That was the best sex I’ve ever had, and we didn’t even do much.”
Max removed his softening cock from between her breasts and lay down beside her, exhausted. He turned on his side and embraced her, hiding his face under her right breast, nuzzling it playfully. He couldn’t have enough of that soft, generous body, but neither of her bright, blue eyes. He lifted his head to look at her, and was entranced by how her flushed cheeks made her eyes stand out even more. He moved up to her level and captured her plump lips with his, tasting himself on her tongue.
After long minutes, they broke the kiss, and Avelyn was once again surprised at the tenderness she saw in his eyes. Still, she had come down from her height, and the rational part of her brain started driving the sex-induced fog away.
“At least now you know I was worth the money.”
“Don’t go there.”
Avelyn saw the immediate change on his face. His eyes hardened and his brows furrowed slightly. “Ah,” she thought. “That didn’t last long.”
“Why not?” she said out loud. “It’s the truth.”
“No, it isn’t. I didn’t buy you for… sex. A shifter-bride is not a sex slave, you know that.”
“The fact that no one uses that term to describe us doesn’t make it less true.”
Max pushed himself away from her and gave a deep, exasperated sigh. The Avelyn he knew was back.
“Please, let’s not ruin this moment.”
His voice was almost pleading, and Avelyn wanted to comply and take back her words. She had enjoyed everything that had happened between them since the moment they woke up, but that didn’t change the fact that she was still trapped in this room and she still had to face the reality in which he had thrust her against her will. Yes, sex was nice, and she now knew that Max could treat her right if he was in a good mood. However, none of this made her less of a prisoner. Coming here hadn’t been her choice. Being with him hadn’t been her choice. The fact that she enjoyed some of it didn’t make it all better.
“Okay,” she said, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t disguise the sadness in her voice.
There was a moment of silence, then Max squeezed her hand, and raised it to his lips to kiss it.
“Come on, let’s take a hot shower.”
“You go first.”
“That was not…”
“Please, just go first. I need some time.”
He wanted to protest again, but it wouldn’t have done any good. The magic was broken. He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
Avelyn wrapped herself in the thin sheet that had been covering the mattress but was now wrinkled and messed. Her gaze locked on the tall windows, and the desire to go out in the sun and enjoy the fresh morning air sent a pang through her chest. After a couple of minutes, she sighed, turned to look around the room, then at the closed bathroom door. She thought of the power she had had over Max during their passionate game, and an idea took shape in her mind. “If I play my cards right, he’ll let me out of the room in no time.” She straightened her back and smiled with new-found determination. “The Schloss is huge and I’m sure his lackeys can’t possibly guard every door and crevice. Yes, Mr. Blackmane, my dear husband, every cage has its weakness.”
END OF BOOK ONE
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Book 2 Synopsis
Book 2 Synopsis
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Avelyn knows that her only chance to escape her luxurious prison is to gain Max’s trust. She sets on a mission to seduce him, unaware that she might be setting a trap for herself. All she needs is his permission to leave her room, so that she can begin exploring the castle and assessing its weaknesses. After all, there is a way out of every cage.
Legends have been told about the dark, cold dungeons underneath Schloss Blackmane. Avelyn would gladly avoid them if they weren’t her only chance of regaining her freedom. The second she learns the dungeons can take her somewhere deep in the forest, far from the castle, a plan forms in her mind. But, will she go through with it? Does she still want to leave Max, or has she fallen in love with him? She feels like she knows him, and his every gesture, word, kiss and touch tell her he might be the man to spend her life with. That is… until she finds out he’s been hiding a secret so terrible that he had to lock it up deep down, in the dungeons. Now, Avelyn knows that the sane thing to do is to run away. His secret is not her business. She can’t possibly fix what he has broken.
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About the Author
Cara Wylde loves to write about strong, feisty women and their hot Alphas who will do anything to make them happy. Her books are filled with romance and just a dash of mystery, suspense, and that eerie atmosphere she fell in love with reading too many gothic novels. With a master's degree in Comparative Literature, she can't help but play with tropes and themes from various genres, trying to come up with fresh perspectives on the paranormal characters her readers love so much. Vampires, shape-shifters, demons, witches... Cara will always make sure they get their own twists.
When she's not writing, Cara is reading, planning her next story
, or daydreaming. Her idea of pure heaven is a day filled with nothing but her laptop, a huge coffee pot, relaxing music, and a new, exciting project.
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Mark of the Bear
by
Meredith Clarke
One
Cash
“Cash, you’re up!”
I looked down at my bloodied hands and wrapped them tighter with the fabric that was once white. I’d busted through at least three knuckles on my left hand and one on my right. I couldn’t understand why they wanted me to fight again. I’d already been in the ring today. I didn’t need any more practice.
“Will, I’m good. I don’t want to bust on my shoulder again before the fight tonight.”
Will put his calloused hands on either of my bare shoulders. His thumb just brushed against my newest tattoo, a quote about fighting. It was all about freedom, that’s what it said. And to me, that’s exactly what getting torn up in the ring was about. “You need all the practice you can get, kid. The guy that you’re going up against tomorrow night, we don’t know much about him. All that I know is that he’s got some underground experience, and you know how those fuckers play. He’ll go right for your face. And by the time you realize what happened, you’ll be flat on your back and he’ll have won all our money.”
I shook my head. “You know I won’t let that happen. Besides those damn wolf fighters, they’ve got nothing on us real pros. Bears always come out on top. I know what I’m doing and I rank better than anybody else you have in this gym. And when I say I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough.”
Will pulled his hands off me and put them up in surrender. He might’ve been three times my age, but the old man did know what he was talking about. He had been a boxer first and then learned MMA. He had been my coach my entire life. But he also knew that I wasn’t just some little cub anymore. I was starting to get interest from sponsors and other investors. If I didn’t want to fight today because I knew it wouldn’t make me ready for tomorrow, then I wasn’t going to do it. After my shoulder injury two years ago I thought it was going to be completely done with fighting. But it was my passion, my life. I had done enough rehabilitation for five guys just to get myself back in the ring. And finally after another two years, I was in the prime of my fighting career. There was no way I was going to let some wolf beat the hell out of me on my turf.
“Fine. But I want you hitting the bag for at least another hour. And then definitely take some time to do some stretching this evening. Maybe even go for a run in the woods. Your kick’s a little weak. Especially your left.”
I nodded and walked away. I made a stop at the locker room to grab my water and stretch out my shoulder in private. I didn’t like for other guys to see when I was in pain.
I put my hands on either side of the sink and looked into the mirror. My shaved head was new, but I liked the look it gave me. Menacing. I had the look of a guy that said, “You don’t even want to begin to fuck with me. I’ll kill you.”
I pulled my mouth guard out and spat blood into the sink from where one of the rookies had gotten an easy punch on me. I looked away at Will for just a moment and the kid came at me. Like he had something to prove. I ended him—might’ve broken a couple of his ribs in the process. That way he’d learn that you don’t mess with Cash Jackson.
I walked over to my locker and opened it up, pulled out a gallon of water, and started sucking it down. I pulled a towel out and wiped off my sweaty face. There wasn’t much in my locker besides those two things. I liked it that way. Clean. Everything had a place and was a necessity if it was in there. But when I reached to put my towel back, my hand brushed against something I forgot I had left here. I considered pulling it out, just to look at it. Just to make me feel little bit better, stronger, but I didn’t. I let my hand linger there just a moment too long then I pulled it back like I’d been bitten by a snake.
I was Cash Jackson, an unbeatable fighter. But everyone has a weakness.
Two
Bianca
I totally hated being up this early in the morning. But I didn’t have a choice; the first day of classes was already upon us and I had to get ready for school.
I picked out my outfit the night before, so I dressed pretty quickly, but calming down my unruly, naturally curly hair and getting my make up just right took time. I looked in the mirror as I was brushing my teeth, trying not to say some sort of mantra like today is the beginning of the rest of your life, or some other bullshit like that.
It wasn’t the beginning of the rest of my life. It was just another day, just like every day.
I look down at my phone buzzing because I pressed snooze one too many times. When I saw the picture that was set as my background I quickly shut it off and continued with my morning routine.
I felt like my phone could tell you my whole life story. A perfect background shot of my ex-boyfriend and me laughing together on the beach, when we were happy. Screenshot after screenshot of text messages from him.
I need you.
Bianca, you’re everything to me.
I know we’re soul mates.
But then the voicemail that ruined it all. “I think you’re just too serious for me. I really believe we’re meant to be together, but you just want more than I can give you. You deserve more than what I have.”
My phone was my lifeline to Shane.
We’d been together for four years, my entire college career. We met at freshman orientation, where he was a mentor sophomore and I was fresh out of high school. I had always felt like he was the more serious one, talking about our future and making plans. I had just wanted to have fun in college, go to parties with my friends, have random sex with guys whose names I didn’t know, but instead I had Shane. And for so long he had seemed so perfect. But then his texts were less frequent, our dates became more mundane, and our sex life had all but dried up. It was discouraging, to say the least. I wanted to love Shane forever, but the moment that I mentioned moving in with him after college, suddenly I was too serious for him. I guess I’ll never know if it was me or him, or if there were other girls on the side like all of my friends had always suggested. I should’ve listened to them earlier.
The first week without Shane had been hard; chocolate wrappers and liquor bottles littered my bedroom floor, and a few of my sorority sisters had threatened to throw me in the water themselves if I didn’t shower soon. But after that I got my shit together. I went to the on-campus doctor and got an STD test. Luckily I had been in the clear. I would never really know if Shane had been with other girls, and a part of me still thought that I probably couldn’t handle the truth.
I looked into the mirror again, applying mascara on my heavily shadowed lid. My long dark hair framed my face with its natural curls flowing down to the middle of my back. This was going to be my last semester of college. I was graduating, and I had absolutely no plans. Everything had hinged on Shane and what his career would do for us. He wanted to be involved in politics, and I’d always liked the sound of being a first lady. Preparing functions and dressing well were things that I was good at. I’d been raised in that way. My father had become governor of the state of New York when I was only twelve; for a while I thought the presidency might be in our future. But after his accident, things had changed. Now we’re just a typical well-off family with a lake house and nice cars, and no real friends. That was the only thing that worried me about the political life: I would never really know who was in it for me. I hadn’t even known my boyfriend well enough to know that he wasn’t.
I rubbed blush on the tops of my cheeks and grabbed my light pink lipstick. Getting ready for class was harder these days, as I was always tr
ying to impress the other senior guys, or even a graduate student. I had to find a new boyfriend at some point, and three months had been a long enough time for me to be celibate. I was just about to rush out the door to my first class of the semester when my roommate, Zoe, walked in.
“Damn! You look good for 9 AM.”
She tossed her messenger bag on her bed and lay back, allowing the soft sheets to absorb her. She never made her bed; it was just one of those things you had to accept about her.
“And you look exhausted. Another late night out, with… What’s his name?”
She sat up with a broad smile on her face. I was still getting used her new haircut, a fierce, dark purple pixie cut, but it fit her personality well. It would’ve been easier to accept, except that she’d been blonde with shoulder length hair for the past three and a half years. Something changed her over Christmas break, but she hadn’t talk about it yet, and I wasn’t one to pry.
“I think his name is Elliott, or maybe Eli? God, you know I’m terrible with names!”
I laughed at her, “No, I know you’re terrible with boys. So I guess it’s not that serious yet? How are your mom and dad going to feel about that?”
“You know sometimes I think all that they want is for me to get married. But then I do get serious with some guy, like remember that one guy, Dean? I really liked him. But when I brought him home they got all weird. ‘You’re too young to get married. Don’t settle for anyone. Make something of your career first.’ I don’t get it. It’s like I hear from my mom that my internal clock is ticking and my dad on the other hand wants me to have this long fabulous career before I make any real decisions.”