by Renee Rose
Jackson wedges the lubed tip of the plug between my ass cheeks and nudges my back entrance. He’s punished me with his cock there before and I admit, I loved it. There’s something so taboo, so wrong in all the right ways. It requires my complete surrender, not that any sex with Jackson doesn’t, especially during the full moon. He’s always rough, always demanding. He can’t help himself, which, in turn, makes me feel powerful. Desirable.
Still, I resist the cool metal intrusion, squeeze my cheeks to prevent its entry. Jackson slips a hand into the front of my panties and twiddles my clit. The rush of pleasure loosens my muscles and I inadvertently relax. He breaches my tight entrance. I mewl and pant, working to drop my resistance. The plug stretches me, fills me. I groan, my pussy dripping.
“That’s it, kitten.” His hot breath feathers across my ear. “Almost there.” The plug seats, but my relief is short-lived. The fullness, the stimulation on my anus have me squirming for satisfaction.
I shift on my feet, pressing my mons into his hand.
He tsks and removes his fingers, leaves me trembling against the window, waiting.
“I prefer to spank you bare-skinned with my hand.” He walks to the end of the wall-length window and unhooks the plastic tilt wand from the blinds. “There’s nothing more satisfying than your ass under my hand.”
I struggle to think of a snarky comeback, but the buzzing in my clit is too distracting.
“But I’d hate for my secretary to hear. So I’ll have to use something quieter.” He slaps the tilt wand into his palm.
I eye it doubtfully. It looks mean, even with my newly activated shifter DNA, which makes any pain or marks disappear in a matter of hours, if not minutes. Apparently, my pussy doesn’t object, because my arousal drips onto my thighs. Jackson’s nostrils flare and I know he smells it.
A low growl rumbles in his throat. “Push that ass out, kitten.”
Tingles race over my skin, my breath rises and falls quickly as I hollow my lower back and present my plugged ass to him.
The wand whips through the air and lands across the middle of my buttocks. A line of fire streaks across my flesh and I yelp. “Fuck!” My hands fly to cover my ass and I whirl around to face Jackson.
He smothers my planned protest with a hard kiss, stamping his lips over mine, coaxing his tongue into my mouth. He keeps kissing me until I whimper and soften against him, arms looping around his neck. When, at last, he pulls away, he closes his teeth around my lower lip and pulls it out before he releases it with a pop.
“That fucking hurt,” I complain.
He cups my ass, rubbing and massaging away the pain. “Ready for the elevator?”
I lift my chin. “No elevator.”
The hands on my ass roam lower, slide between my legs and stroke my wet pussy. “This pussy, baby,”—he demands another kiss—“belongs to me. And I need it in the elevator.” He kisses me again, more gently, lips stroking mine, nibbling lightly. “You know you’re safe with me. If you get scared, I’ll take care of you. You’re mine, baby. I’ll always protect you.”
A shiver of something much deeper than lust runs through me and tears prick my eyes. I drop my cheek to his chest and press my body against his to recover my breath. He continues his steady torment, stroking my throbbing clit while nudging the butt plug with his arm.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s go.”
Jackson’s grin is one hundred percent wolf. He puts my clothing back in place and cradles my neck, tipping my head to the side to drag his mouth up the column of my neck in a slow, open-mouthed kiss. “I’ll make it good for you, kitten. I promise.”
I wrap his tie in my fist and tug his mouth down to mine. “You’d better.”
~.~
Jackson
I straighten my tie and usher Kylie out of my office.
“Oh Mr. King?” My secretary, Vanessa, tries to get my attention.
“I’ll be back in five,” I say. Or twenty. Depends on how long it takes to get my beautiful mate off in a tight space.
I haven’t officially acknowledged my relationship with Kylie at work, because it’s none of their goddamn business, but Kylie pulls the alpha female with Vanessa every time she tries to overstep, so my secretary must know by now we’re an item.
I should probably buy Kylie some kind of diamond ring to mark her in the human fashion as mine. Make sure no humans who can’t smell my scent on her think she’s fair game.
Kylie stiffens as the doors to the elevator swish open, but I place my hand on her lower back and guide her gently forward. As far as I know, she hasn’t been in the elevator since the day she interviewed. She always takes the stairs.
I hit the “R” for rooftop. My office is on the top floor, but the elevator goes up one more level, and heading in that direction insures we’ll be alone.
“What is R?” she asks. The elevator doors close and her swallow gives away her nerves.
“Rooftop.” The elevator ascends. “You’re okay, baby.” I spin her around and press my body against the back of hers, pushing her up against the wall.
She’s breathing quickly, but judging from her scent, it’s more fear than arousal.
The elevator stops and the doors slide open, letting the Tucson sunlight stream into the compartment. I push my thumb over the “door open” button and hold it in. “There, baby. The doors are open. You can breathe fresh air. But you’re still in the elevator. And I’m still going to nail you against this wall.”
Her body melts against mine, breathing slows.
“That’s it, kitten.”
The elevator makes an angry beep to let me know I’m holding the button too long. I ignore it.
“Now, I need you to peel that skirt of yours up to your waist.”
She removes her hands from the wall and tugs up the hem of her black skirt.
I use my free hand to yank her panties down in back. My own pants give me a bit more trouble opening one-handed.
Kylie rotates and slithers into a wide-kneed crouch at my feet, reaching to unbutton my trousers. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I reach for her head, forgetting about the elevator button. The doors snick closed and I lunge to catch the button again, just before the elevator car starts to plunge back down.
Kylie’s gold-flecked eyes are on me and her gaze doesn’t waver as she releases my cock and licks around the head.
I curse, threading my fingers through her hair, urging her to take me into that sexy mouth of hers. I love when she turns the tables on me. I’m supposed to be the one seducing her, but I see the glory of power and control shining in her eyes, and there’s nothing I’d do to change it.
“Fuck, Kylie. Take me deep.”
She does. She slides her full lips down the length of my cock, tongue massaging the underside. Then she clamps down and sucks hard as she pulls back.
I shudder, my thighs tightening. I use my fist in her hair to pull her head off. “Up,” I command, my voice so deep I hardly recognize it. “I need to be in you, baby.” I help her up. Her panties are still up in front, so I say, “Lose the panties.”
She does the stripper-perfect squat again to get them off and I nearly jizz all over her face. The minute she stands up, I tug her thigh up to my waist and line the head of my dick up to her slick entrance. One thrust is all it takes to sink into her wet heat.
I pin her back against the wall to get leverage and do my best to dial it back, which results in slow, hard thrusts that send her higher and higher on the wall.
She lifts the other leg up and wraps them both around my waist. I hook my forearm under her ass and pull her hips forward on the perfect angle to go deep.
Her mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes roll back in her head.
“Next time you need to come up to my office,” I manage to say through gritted teeth, “you take the elevator.” I slam in harder and harder, making her take every solid inch of me. “And you think about this, baby. Think about who fucked you in this elevat
or.” I pump faster, with shorter strokes. “Remember that I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again. Understand?”
”Y-yes, sir,” she pants, then strangles on a scream.
I claim her mouth, swallowing her cries as her pussy clenches and contracts around my length. The second she squeezes, I come, her muscles milking my cock, wringing me out the way she does every fucking time.
The elevator buzzes again, a loud warning.
Still holding my beautiful mate, I stoop to snag her panties from the elevator floor and step out into the sunlight.
“Marry me.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand.
Kylie’s still in another world, her eyes glassy, lips swollen from my kiss. “I already have.”
“I want you the human way, too. Mrs. Jackson King. Ring, marriage certificate, all that.”
Her body is soft and relaxed against mine. She rests her head on my shoulder. “Yes,” she whispers.
“Yes, what?”
She laughs the husky, throaty sound that drives me wild. “Yes, sir.”
To read Jackson and Kylie’s full story, check out Alpha’s Temptation.
To get all the bonus scenes, including when Sam met Jackson, be sure to sign up for either Renee or Lee’s newsletters!
Other books in the Boy Alphas Series
Alpha’s Temptation
MINE TO PROTECT. MINE TO PUNISH. MINE.
I'm a lone wolf, and I like it that way. Banished from my birth pack after a bloodbath, I never wanted a mate.
Then I meet Kylie. My temptation. We're trapped in an elevator together, and her panic almost makes her pass out in my arms. She's strong, but broken. And she's hiding something.
My wolf wants to claim her. But she's human, and her delicate flesh won't survive a wolf's mark.
I'm too dangerous. I should stay away. But when I discover she's the hacker who nearly took down my company, I demand she submit to my punishment. And she will.
Kylie belongs to me.
Publisher's Note: Alpha's Temptation is a stand-alone book in the Bad Boy Alphas series. HEA guaranteed, no cheating. This book contains a hot, demanding alpha wolf with a penchant for protecting and dominating his female. If such material offends you, do not buy this book.
Alpha’s Danger
“YOU BROKE THE RULES, LITTLE HUMAN. I OWN YOU NOW.”
I am an alpha wolf, one of the youngest in the States. I can pick any she-wolf in the pack for a mate. So why am I sniffing around the sexy human attorney next door? The minute I catch Amber’s sweet scent, my wolf wants to claim her.
Hanging around is a bad idea, but I don’t play by the rules. Amber acts all prim and proper, but she has a secret, too. She may not want her psychic abilities, but they’re a gift.
I should let her go, but the way she fights me only makes me want her more. When she learns what I am, there’s no escape for her. She’s in my world, whether she likes it or not. I need her to use her gifts to help recover my missing sister—and I won’t take no for an answer.
She’s mine now.
Alpha’s Prize (Bad Boy Alphas, Book 3)
MY CAPTIVE. MY MATE. MY PRIZE.
I didn't order the capture of the beautiful American she-wolf. I didn't buy her from the traffickers. I didn't even plan to claim her. But no male shifter could have withstood the test of a full moon and a locked room with Sedona, naked and shackled to the bed.
I lost control, not only claiming her, but also marking her, and leaving her pregnant with my wolfpup. I won't keep her prisoner, as much as I'd like to. I allow her to escape to the safety of her brother's pack.
But once marked, no she-wolf is ever really free. I will follow her to the ends of the Earth, if I must.
Sedona belongs to me.
Alpha’s Challenge (Bad Boy Alphas, Book 4)
How to Date a Werewolf:
#1 Never call him ‘Good Doggie.’
I’ve got a problem. A big, hairy problem. An enforcer from the Werewolves Motorcycle Club broke into my house. He thinks I know the Werewolves’ secret, and the pack sent him to guard me.
#2 During a full moon, be ready to get freaky
By the time he decides I’m no threat, it’s too late. His wolf has claimed me for his mate.
Too bad we can’t stand each other…
# 3 Bad girls get eaten in the bedroom
...until instincts take over. Things get wild. Naked under the full moon, this wolfman has me howling for more.
# 4 Break ups are hairy
Not even a visit from the mob, my abusive ex, my crazy mother and a road trip across the state in a hippie VW bus can shake him.
#5 Beware the mating bite
Because there’s no running from a wolf when he decides you’re his mate.
Alpha’s Obsession (Bad Boy Alpha’s Book 5)
A werewolf, an owl shifter, and a scientist walk into a bar…
Sam
I was born in a lab, fostered out to humans, then tortured in a cage. Fate allowed me to escape, and I know why.
To balance the scales of justice. Right the misdeeds of the harvesters.
Nothing matters but taking down the man who made me what I am: A monster driven by revenge, whatever the cost.
Then I meet Layne. She thinks I’m a hero.
But she doesn’t understand—If I don’t follow this darkness to its end, it will consume me.
Layne
I’ve spent my life in the lab, researching the cure for the disease that killed my mom. No late nights out, no dates, definitely no boyfriend.
Then Sam breaks into my lab, steals my research, and kidnaps me. He’s damaged. Crazy. And definitely not human.
He and his friends are on a mission to stop the company that’s been torturing shifters, and now I’m a part of it.
Sam promises to protect me. And when he touches me, I feel reborn. But he’s hellbent on revenge. He won’t give it up.
Not even for me.
About Renee Rose
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won Spunky and Sassy’s Favorite Sci-Fi and Anthology Author, The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams.
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Check out Renee’s Zandian Masters Series!
HIS HUMAN SLAVE - EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
Zandian Breeding season.
That was the last consideration in his mind before liberating his planet from the Finn.
Breeding season.
Zander sat at the round platform, looking at the faces of the elders he respected most, the ones who had risked their lives to save him when the Finn invaded Zandia and wiped out the rest of their species solar cycles before.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious,” Daneth, the only Zandian physician left in the galaxy said, tapping his wrist band. “You are the best male representative of the Zandian species, the only one left of the royal bloodline, and, more importantly, the only one young enough to produce healthy offspring. If you go to battle without first procreating, our species will die with us.” He gestured around the room at the other members of his parents’ generation.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes in exasperation. “And exactly which female do you think I will produce these offspring with? Last I heard, there is no Zandian female under the age of sixty left alive.”
“You will have to cross-breed. I purchased a program and entered your genetic makeup. It uses all the
known gene files in the galaxy predicts the best possible mate for breeding.
He raised his eyebrows. “So have you already run this program?”
Daneth nodded.
He looked around the table, his gaze resting on Seke, his arms master and war strategist. “Did you know about this?”
Seke nodded once.
“And you approve? This is foolish—my time should be spent training with the new battleships we bought and recruiting an army, not—” he spluttered to a stop.
“The continuation of the species is paramount. What is the point of winning back Zandia if there’s no Zandians left to populate it?”
He sighed, blowing out his breath. “All right, I’ll bite. Who is she? What species?”
Daneth projected an image from his wrist band. The image of a slight, tawny-haired young female appeared. “Human. Lamira Taniaka. She’s an Ocretion slave working in agrifarming.”
A human breeder. A slave.
Veck.
Zander didn’t have time for this excrement. “There’s been a miscalculation.” He waved his hand at the hologram.
“No, no mistake. I ran the program several times. This female bested every other candidate by at least a thousand metapoints. This female will produce the most suitable offspring for you.”
“Impossible. Not a human. No.” Humans were the lowest of the social strata on Ocretia, the planet where his palatial pod had been granted airspace.
“I realize it seems an unlikely match, my lord, but there must be some reason her genes mix best with yours. The program is flawless.”
“I thought you might suggest someone worthy of formal mating—an arranged marriage with royalty of another species. Not a breeder. Not a pet.” Humans were not mates, they were slaves to the Ocretions. An inferior species. He hadn’t had much to do with them, but from what he understood, they were weak, fragile. Their lifespan was short, they did not recover from injuries quickly. They spread disease and died quickly. They lacked honor and fortitude. They lied.
