Dominique's Release: A Captive Souls story

by Kimberly Kaye Terry

  “Good, because I don’t think I can break anyone else in. One overbearing half angel is enough for this girl,” she quipped.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, pulling away from her, a mock frown on his face.

  “You heard me, now come and show me how much you plan on protecting me,” she replied and laughed along with him as she shoved him back down onto the bed, straddling him.

  With one sure stroke he surged deeply inside her welcoming heat, and Dominique released a sighing moan of pleasure.

  As she gently rode him, she glanced down at her dark angel through eyes narrowed in pleasure.

  She knew that although her journey of discovery of who she was, what she was, wouldn’t be easy, it was no longer a journey she’d have to take alone.

  About the Author

  Kimberly Kaye Terry pens interracial and multicultural delicious tales that expertly blend eroticism and true romance, as well as erotic fiction for Kensington Publishing, Harlequin Spice, Harlequin Kimani and Arabesque, Simon and Schuster/Strebor and most recently with Samhain Publishing. She lives with her husband, a lieutenant. colonel in the U.S. Army, their beautiful child, and two ridiculously spoiled poodles who think they’re human, in a suburb in Texas. Kimberly has a Bachelor’s degree in Social Work, a Master’s degree in Human Relations and Counseling, and is a proud member of the one and only Zeta Phi Beta Sorority. Kimberly invites you to relax while you curl up with one of her scintillating tales of vivacious women and the amazing men who love them as they make their journey to finding true love. You can visit her on the web at www.kimberlykayeterry.com, www.myspace.com/kimberlykayeterry, or her Facebook at www.facebook.com.

  Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

  Stone’s Embrace

  © 2009 Delilah Devlin

  Captive Souls, Book Two.

  Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and, passed down from the father she will never know, a shameful power. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

  Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

  Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

  They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

  Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods…it’s all good when the reward is freedom.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Stone’s Embrace:

  The shock reflected in the woman’s blue gaze couldn’t have been any greater than his own. From one moment to the next it seemed, Octavius had felt his heart petrify, his mind freeze in horror—and then, he’d awoken, his wounds healed, and wrapped in silken heat.

  He wasn’t sure what it meant; only that he couldn’t let her go. Would he return to stone without her touch? He glanced up at the darkened house. No light shone in the window he’d exited. Moonlight glinted on replaced panes of glass. Around him, the pristine garden had given way to neglect. He’d slept a long, long time it seemed.

  Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, pinching him. Her back bowed, then her hips bucked, almost dislodging him, but he couldn’t let that happen.

  With his wings wrapped tightly around her, he fell to the ground, cushioning her against the crash, and rocked his hips to sustain the orgasm that rippled all along his shaft.

  Her cunt caressed his whole length, flushed it in liquid heat. He growled and pressed deeper, rutting, his knees digging into soft grass to gain leverage and continue stroking.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered brokenly, her head thrashing. “This can’t be happening.”

  “It’s happening…between us,” he gritted out, nearly as overcome as she, so wild were the sensations rocketing through him. “Give yourself to me. Save me.”

  “Save you?” she gasped as he stroked deeper, harder. “You’re raping me.”

  Octavius forced himself to ease the ferocity of his strokes, knowing the herbs he’d consumed might still be ruling his body. “Am I raping you?” he said, between clenched teeth. “How did I awaken with my cock embedded deep inside you?”

  Her lips trembled. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You were stone. I…”

  He lifted a brow, mocking her. “You used me to gain your own pleasure without my consent. Is that not the definition of rape?” Still, he gentled his thrusts, screwing in slow circles, and rested his elbows beside her shoulders within his winged cocoon. “Although, personally, I don’t feel the least violated,” he said, letting his voice ease into a softer rumble.

  Her forehead furrowed with a scowl. “You aren’t real…weren’t alive…it’s not the same at all.”

  He wondered if she even realized that she’d tightened her legs around him to bring him deeper. “I’m aroused,” he replied. “Don’t you feel any responsibility for my condition?”

  “I apologize, and you can’t know how sorry I am. It’s my fault that you’re ‘awake’ at all. But still…”

  “Yes, it is your fault. So why shouldn’t I expect compensation for your use of my body?”

  “Compensation?”

  “Quid pro quo.”

  “I said I’m sorry,” she said, a hint of stubbornness in the tilt of her chin.

  Octavius bent and scooped at that chin with his lips, nipping it gently. “I don’t share your remorse. You freed me.”

  The fair-haired woman beneath him wrinkled her nose. “If you feel gratitude, then how can you not release me?”

  “I’m afraid to, love,” he said truthfully, letting her see a fraction of his desperation in his face. “I don’t know how this happened, but I suspect you’re the key. I don’t want to be returned to that state again.”

  The fingers pinching his shoulders eased to cup them. She drew a deep breath. “So do you plan to stay inside me forever?” she said softer now, near whispering. “How awkward would that be?”

  “Not forever,” he replied just as quietly, sensing her surrender. “Just please don’t ask me to withdraw. Not yet. The sensation is too incredible. You’re very warm, so wet.” Tentatively, he rocked his hips, driving his cock inward again, watching her expression for signs of alarm or revulsion. Didn’t a “gargoyle” hold her pinned to the ground?

  Her mouth rounded and she gasped. Her eyelids fluttered then closed. “Do what you must.”

  Octavius snorted. “What I must? Take my pleasure? Would you make me your rapist after all?”

  Her eyes opened, tears welling again, and then she turned her head away. “I know better than anyone that you aren’t responsible. It’s my curse.”

  “You believe you invite rape?”

  “My touch makes a man forget himself.”

  “You are lovely, but why would you think your allure is any more compelling than another woman’s?”

  “You were stone. Now you’re living, breathing.”

  “I lived and breathed before. Your touch released me from my prison.”

  “Do you always awaken aroused?” she asked more harshly now, meeting his unflinching gaze.

  “I’m male. But I understand what you ask. I was given an herb that muddled my head, fired my blood. My cock was constantly aroused throughout the battle I fought just before I was made into stone.”

  “Then it’s not just because of me?”

  He heard a hint of doubt in her voice and wondered about it. “I’m grateful to be breathing again. Pleased to be awakened like this. But I’m also afraid that I must finish this with you. You
sought concourse with this body before to please yourself. Why not use me to appease your appetite again? Please us both.”

  “I don’t know. This is different. Embarrassing.”

  “Because I’m aware?”

  She let out a short, strangled laugh. “That sounds so wrong.”

  “Because it is. Make it right.”

  Fleeting expressions flickered across her face. Her teeth worried her bottom lip while her gaze slid away again.

  He slowed his thrusts again although the effort nearly killed him, offering her a moment to make a clear-headed choice.

  Her chest rose, her tiny breasts poking at his chest, and then slowly her glance raked his shoulders, lifted and rested for a moment on his lips then hesitantly swept up to meet his gaze. “I’m not like this. Not…sexual.”

  “You’re a woman, all parts lovely and welcoming to man.”

  “You’re not human. Not a man.”

  “I am male. Do the wings frighten you?”

  “They’re soft. Tensile. I’m not frightened…exactly.”

  “Shall I unwrap you?” His gaze dropped to her expressive mouth. Her lips were plump, almost pouting. She teased him now.

  “The grass is wet,” she said, her tone slightly sullen.

  “Would you prefer I keep you dry?” His lips curved. Her sex was very, very wet.

  A swallow moved the smooth skin of her throat. “When we’re done, will you release me?”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “This is a very strange conversation. And maybe I’m not frightened because I’m in shock.”

  “Then let me give you something to be truly shocked about.”

  Octavius came to his knees, which forced her to straddle his lap, and slowly unfolded his wings, unwrapping his lovely hostage like a present. Despite the silvery light shining above, her hair gleamed gold and was long and straight. The oval shape of her face served as the perfect canvas for her overlarge and pouting mouth.

  A deep rumbling growl worked its way up from his diaphragm, but he ignored her widening gaze until light glinted on an oddly shaped blue iris.

  He crooked his forefinger and lifted her chin.

  Her eyelids drifted down, her lips trembled.

  “Let me see.”

  Her eyes opened slowly, her gaze rose hesitantly, and then locked with his as he stared at the disturbing shape. Elliptical, like a demon’s. The girl wasn’t full human.

  “It explains a lot,” he said softly.

  “Now will you let me go?” she asked through tightening lips.

  “I’m not holding you. You sit astride my hips. You impaled yourself on me.”

  Her hands flattened on his shoulders and her thighs tensed. But she didn’t rise as she’d intended. Instead, her gaze, still held steady by his own, filled again, this time overspilling. Tears tracked down her cheeks. “Does my touch not ignite your passion?”

  “Your sex, gloving mine so wetly,” he gritted out, “feeds my hunger for you.”

  “But my hands…they don’t feel different from other women’s hands?”

  “They’re warm…” Gods, they were hot, her whole body was warm, moist… He shook his head; she’d asked the question like it should mean something.

  She blinked away moisture. “Maybe because you aren’t human, you’re immune. Wouldn’t you know it would take another demon to be able to resist my curse?”

  Octavius blew out a deep breath, trying to even them, trying to keep himself from plunging upward. “I’m no demon, but you speak of a curse…”

  “My touch incites men into sexual frenzy, makes them lose their minds.”

  Her shiver helped him concentrate. He canted his head, read the tension on her face, and he got a hint of the deep anguish inside her. “Has it forced you to keep away from men?”

  She nodded quickly. “And I wear gloves. Just in case.”

  He clasped her soft, warm hands inside his, and stroked his thumb across her palm.

  She sighed.

  At that moment, he knew she’d never known a man’s gentle caress. How intriguing. How perfect. If he could lure her lonely soul to him, he might stave off the spell that had rendered him stone. “You’ve never known a gentle lover?”

  “No.”

  Submission is the only path to his salvation…

  Demon Dreamer

  © 2009 Vivi Anna

  Captive Souls, Book Three.

  Born a seer, Kiara Brodie has always been feared for her power to see others’ fantasies. She’s fine with that—it keeps the men of her Irish Gypsy caravan at bay. She wants more than this transient life. A letter from her estranged father, summoning her to Louisiana, could be her long-awaited chance to put down roots.

  She finds two half-sisters she never knew she had, and an old mansion haunted by a darkly sexy demon who inhabits her dreams. At night he whispers to her of carnal delight, enticing her on a journey of extreme pleasure—and pain.

  Malvo knows just what to do with the curious woman who wandered into his lair behind the library bookcase—lock the door behind her and make her a lustful proposition she can’t refuse. He seeks to temporarily ease his lonely torment, but Kiara’s willing and wanton response opens his eyes to the possibility that she is his path to his own salvation.

  If only she is willing to remain captive to his every sinful desire—forever…

  Warning: Contains every sinful fantasy you have ever secretly entertained—including some of the deadly ones. Being bad was never oh, so good!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Demon Dreamer:

  Standing, she stretched out all the kinks in her bones and muscles. She moved toward the fireplace and found two fat candles to light. A box of matches lay next to them. Kiara lit them both, and carrying one she continued her investigation of the library. She’d always been an avid reader, so to be surrounded by so many books was a treat. She flitted from shelf to shelf, devouring the titles and running her fingers along the mahogany wood.

  She pulled out book after book and skimmed the titles. There were tons of books here she’d never even heard of. Old books long ago out of print or she suspected one-of-a-kind originals. By the time she picked out something of interest, her stomach was rumbling. It had been over twelve hours since she’d eaten.

  She hoped the kitchen was stocked. By the looks of the rest of the house, the fact that it was clean and looked lived in, she figured there would be some food in the cupboards. But when she turned to seek out the comfort of food, the wall of books she’d been standing in front of moved.

  Startled, she stared as the tall shelf slid sideways to reveal an opening behind it. A blast of cool air hit her in the face. She sucked it in, noticing that the air was laced with a delectable smell of spices. Her stomach rumbled in response and saliva pooled in her mouth.

  Curious—she’d always been so to the chagrin of her mother—and after relighting the candle for light, Kiara stepped into the dark opening. It was a corridor, the walls stone. Her heart raced but not out of fear. As a child, she’d always been the one to go first, to face the monsters under her bed. She wasn’t much afraid of anything.

  Sweat trickled down her back and she appreciated the coolness that the corridor afforded her. Taking in a deep breath, she followed it. And as soon as she took four steps, the wall behind her slid back into place, plunging her into a claustrophobic darkness. Thank goodness, she had the candle still.

  More curious than before, Kiara continued following the corridor. It wound its way further inward like a coiled snake which she found peculiar as she didn’t think the house went that way. In fact, the library had been at the back of the house, so technically the existence of the corridor and the way it moved was an impossibility. But Kiara had always believed in the impossible.

  After a few more minutes, she walked out of the long, winding passageway and into a huge room. Warm and inviting, the room was lit by several candelabras mounted on the burgundy painted walls. The floor was covered by a sof
t moss green carpet that looked opulent in both texture and style. She scrunched her toes into it, reveling in the feel of it on her bare skin. Surprised, she looked around, taking everything in. From the huge hearth along one wall, ablaze with a fire, to the exquisite paintings hanging on the walls, to the stylish furnishings arranged artfully around the room. The room reminded her of a long ago era, European possibly, aristocratic most certainly. Someone was definitely living here.

  “Hello?” she called.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Startled, Kiara swiveled toward the deep masculine voice. Out from the shadow along one wall stepped a man. A tall, elegantly dressed, sexy man with longish black hair and even darker eyes. She gasped at the sight of him. He was an impressive figure and she hadn’t seen him there standing in the dark with her first perusal of the room. And he was definitely the man from her dreams. Her dream demon.

  For the first time in her life, she felt unsure of herself and apprehensive. Although she’d just only hours ago wished for him to be real, flutters of uncertainty filled her stomach. Her heart hammered as if in her throat and she lifted a hand to soothe it. “I came through the sliding wall in the library.”

  He moved closer to her. “Obviously, but what are you doing in my house?”

  “Your house?”

  He nodded.

  “I thought this house belonged to Jean-Paul Durant.”

  He frowned. “That fool thought he owned this place, but he was very wrong.”

  Kiara took a step forward. “That fool was my father.”

  Arching an eyebrow, the dark man grinned. “Was he now? Interesting.” His gaze searched her form, from her bare feet to the top of her head. “Very interesting.”

  Kiara felt the heated intention of his stare. Flutters of desire bloomed deep inside her belly. Her thighs clenched at the possibilities.

  “You have the mark.” He gestured to her eye.

  “Aye.” She lifted her chin to show him that she was not ashamed of her deformity.

  “You are proud of your difference.” It was a statement, but Kiara heard the curiosity in the words.