by Vivi Anna, Sylvia Day, Delilah Devlin, Cathryn Fox, Myla Jackson, Lisa Renee Jones
The tension fled her body. Her cunt spasmed with want, clutching greedily for what it needed…
“Please,” she breathed, aching to hold him. “I need you.”
Max tilted Victoria’s head back a split second before the collar appeared. The thin black ribbon looked so innocuous, but it bound her more than chains ever could. It would fade when she was paired with a warlock, become a part of her, just as her new master would.
The sight of the collar and the submission it signified made cum dribble from the head of Max’s aching cock, every cell in his body flaring with masculine triumph. He yanked the dildo free and tossed it away, releasing her from his spell, catching her limp, willing body in a protective embrace.
He’d almost given in, he had wanted her so badly. Feeling her body grasping for him, hungry for him, had driven him crazy. The only thing that held him back was concern for her. If he failed to bring her back from the edge, They would kill her. And that would kill him.
Clutching her close, Max used his powers to take them home—his home. There he lowered her gently to his velvet-covered bed and then cupped her thigh, spreading her wide. The sight of the glistening lips of her sex and tiny pussy made his balls draw up. The look in her eyes made his heart ache.
Hours. That’s all they had left.
He climbed over her, admiring the new curves she’d acquired with careful tending. Under his care, she’d lost the signs of neglect. As he caught one of her wrists and pulled it over her head, he never took his eyes from her, using magic to pull the velvet rope from the bedpost and bind her.
“Max.” A whisper, no more than that, as she lifted her other arm without urging and used her own power to restrain herself.
Victoria was the most powerful woman he’d ever known, both in their world and the world they shared with humans. Her submission of that power to his demands was a gift of such magnitude it captured his heart. His eyes burned, his throat clenched tight.
His kitten. His.
He took her then, in a swift sure thrust that joined them so tightly there was no separation. A raw sound tore from his throat as she climaxed instantly, sucking his cock with ripples of pleasure, luring him to cum in her with hard, fierce spurts. Holding her shivering body tightly to his, Max pumped gently, draining his seed while prolonging her pleasure, absorbing her cries with pure infatuation.
Later, he laced his fingers with hers and rode her bound body again. Harder this time, releasing his passion in a brutal taking, his hips battering hers, his cock plunging deep.
Victoria accepted his lust with such beauty, her voice hoarse, her words barely audible over his labored breathing.
“Yes…yes…yes…”
Taking all that he was, blossoming like a flower beneath him, lush with such promise. The places he could take her, the things he could teach her, the freedom he could give her…
But he was a Hunter groomed to join the Council, and They didn’t keep Familiars.
So Max took what he could, his tongue and lips working at her breast, drawing on her with hungry pulls, worrying the hard nipple against the roof of his mouth. His hands pinned her down, kept her still for the steady rise and fall of his hips, his cock working her into endless pleasure, giving her no rest, afraid to stop touching her. Afraid to lose her.
Keep her.
The compulsion rose up so unexpectedly that his rhythm faltered, suspending him at the deepest point of a downward plunge, his cock scalded by the hot clasp of her cunt.
“No!” she cried, struggling beneath him. “Don’t stop. Please…”
How could he walk away? She’d sacrificed the life she’d built for herself to reenter his.
He would do the same for her. He needed to do the same for her.
“Never.” He growled and crushed her to him, resuming his claiming, his flushed cheek pressed to hers. “I’ll never stop. You’re mine. Mine.”
Victoria summoned the black robe Familiars wore when facing the Council and dressed silently. She’d preserved the garment all these years, saving it for the day she would face Them and exact her revenge. Now she donned it with a different purpose in mind.
As she prepared to leave, her eyes never strayed from the sleeping form on the bed. Max’s powerful body sprawled face down, the red satin sheets riding low on his hips. Gorgeous.
She ached to touch him, to wake him, to look into those molten silver eyes one last time.
How dangerous he was, even in slumber.
Tears fell unchecked.
Lost in her, his mind had lowered its guards, his thoughts and feelings pouring into her in a flood of longing and affection that destroyed. He was willing to give up all that he’d worked for to keep her, and she couldn’t let him do it.
She couldn’t lose him like she lost Darius. The Council would be furious at being thwarted a second time. Their spite had cost her one love. She refused to let it cost her another.
Better to lose him to a life apart from her than to death.
So she covered her mouth to muffle her pain, and left him.
Four
The moment Max woke from the depths of sheer physical exhaustion, he knew she was gone. Their connection was such that he had felt Victoria inside him ever since the collar had appeared. Now the warmth she gave him was no longer there, leaving him cold.
But he wasn’t alone.
Once again, you exceeded our expectations, the Council said, in a tone laced with satisfaction. The Familiar is returned to the fold, a result she says would not have been possible without your power and expertise. We are pleased.
Rolling out of bed, Max tugged on a pair of loose-fitting trousers, his heart racing in near panic. “Where is she?”
She is preparing for the joining ceremony.
“What?” He paused and glanced at the clock by his bed, his fists clenching. Two hours ago he’d been balls deep inside her. Now she was bonding forever to another man? “What’s the goddamned rush? I just collared her! The training wasn’t finished.”
How could she?
Black rage rolled over him.
We felt it would be safest, and most effective, to partner her quickly. Her warlock will train her to suit him.
“Who is he?”
Gabriel was selected. He was the only warlock strong enough, aside from you.
Max’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth. Gabriel was powerful, considered handsome, as popular with women as Max was, but the other warlock stayed far away from the darker edge of magic. To Max it was a weakness. Gabriel had a line he wouldn’t cross and it opened him to failure. Weakness like that would give Victoria too much leeway. She needed an iron fist. Craved it. Max had only one vulnerability, and it was one he needed to control her.
Victoria herself.
There was no line he wouldn’t cross to achieve his aims.
And he proved it by abandoning his home, his ambitions, and the life he knew to go after her.
Victoria stared at her reflection as the handmaidens adjusted her robes for the ceremony ahead. Her eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, bruised from lack of sleep and too much crying.
She’d forgotten who Max was, seeing him only through smitten eyes, failing to remember that he was a Hunter and next in line to ascend to the Council. He’d spent centuries working toward his goal, and two weeks working on her—one of many assignments in his past, with more to come in his future. He would forget her in time.
The thought made her heart hurt, the pain so piercing she panted with it.
Waving her attendants away, Victoria caught the edge of the vanity and gulped down desperate breaths. She’d been out of the loop so long, she had no idea who Gabriel was, but the handmaidens raved about her luck. Yes, she would pine for the man who’d taken over her body and filled it with mind-numbing pleasure, but perhaps, in a decade or two, she could come to tolerate Gabriel’s touch…
“You’ll never know, kitten,” rumbled a deep, familiar voice behind her.
Her gaze lifted and m
et stormy gray.
“Max,” she breathed, her palms growing damp at the sight of him. Bare-chested, barefooted, wearing only trousers that hung low around his lean hips. His shoulders so broad, his golden skin stretched over beautifully defined muscles. A predator.
Her mouth dried, her breasts swelled with desire, as if he hadn’t just fucked her into exhaustion mere hours ago.
He came toward her with his sultry, long-legged stride. She was held motionless by his stare, forgetting to breathe until her lungs burned, then she gasped and cried out as his hand cupped the back of her head. His strong fingers pinched strands of her hair and tugged roughly, bending her to his will. She stared up at him in a haze of fear and desire, the flush of anger on his face enough to frighten her. And arouse her.
“I’m keeping you,” he rasped, just before he took her parted lips with possessive hunger.
Having thought him lost to her, she melted in his arms. He anchored her, even as he brought her to heel. His breathing labored, he turned his head, his cheek rubbing against hers, absorbing her tears.
“The Council will punish you,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I-I can’t bear to lose you.”
“But you were about to.” He licked deep into her mouth, making her moan and open to him, silently begging for more. He obliged her, groaning, his tongue stroking along hers with so much skill it left her breathless. One arm supported her back, the other hand cupped her breast and kneaded it with the aggressive pressure she’d come to relish and crave.
“Let me be the instrument of your revenge,” he whispered darkly, his lips moving against hers.
A gift. For her.
Victoria swallowed hard, stunned by his statement and the ramifications of it. “Max.”
He held her gaze. “You have your business interests to occupy your daylight hours, but your private hours are mine. You will serve, obey, and please me. You will never question an order or deny me anything. I’ll do things to your body that will test your limits. Sometimes, you’ll want to tell me ‘no,’ but you’ll do what I want regardless. That is your commitment to me.”
He hugged her tightly to him, burying his face in the tender space between her neck and shoulder. His voice lowered and came gruffly, “My commitment is to care for you, and provide for you in every way. If you need your revenge to be free of the past, I will deliver the means to you. You are my greatest treasure, Victoria. I will always value and treat you as such.”
Her arms came around him, her lashes wet and vision blurry. “I want the Triumvirate.”
To give her this, he would have to skirt the very Council he’d aspired to for so long. There was more to that long ago night than she knew, and the danger was mortal.
Max nodded his understanding and agreement without hesitation, but the tic in his jaw betrayed him. “Will you love me like you loved him? Can you?”
She released a deep breath in an audible rush. Her heart reached out to him, revealing the many facets of her affection and adoration, the feelings she had for Max so different from what she’d felt for Darius, but just as powerful, and growing every day. She was beginning to see how much of herself she’d kept away from Darius, and how much of herself she’d already shared with Max—the man who’d shown her how to embrace her nature and revel in it. Safe in his embrace.
“Yes, Max,” she promised. “So much.”
His power swelled in response to her passion, flowing into her, and she enhanced it. The soul-deep thrumming that coursed through them was almost overwhelming. They would have to train, relearn everything they knew, find a way to control it. Together.
I can’t wait to get started. Max’s confident voice in her mind gave her courage.
The task ahead wouldn’t be easy…
You don’t like things easy, kitten.
Victoria offered her mouth to him and he took it, his chest rumbling with laughter as her lips curved against his in a catlike smile.
SYLVIA DAY is the multi-published author of erotic romantic fiction set in most sub-genres. A wife and mother of two, she is a former Russian linguist for the U.S. Army Military Intelligence. Her award–winning books have been called “wonderful and passionate” by WNBC.com and “Shining Stars” by Booklist. They also regularly appear on bestseller lists, such as Bookscan and Barnes & Noble. Please visit her at www.SylviaDay.com.
Quick Silver
Vivi Anna
One
As the communicator buzzed in her ear, Sangria Silver pulled her Hummer off Ventura Boulevard and onto the shoulder, knowing the significance of the call. Only important, influential clients had her private number.
After adjusting the miniature microphone attached to her ear down toward her mouth, she pushed the red connect button on the dashboard. “Yes.”
“I have a package for delivery.” The feminine voice was commanding and cold. Sangria noted that the caller was certainly no underling but most likely the main contact herself. This was indeed an important call.
She was used to dealing with intermediaries when it came to pickup and delivery. Usually the cargo that she transported around the country was illegal in some manner. She didn’t know that for sure, and she didn’t ask. Her discretion was the reason she was the number one Conveyor in the New States of America.
“Size?” she asked.
“A metal case. Six feet by three feet by four.”
Sangria sketched out the measurements on a pad of paper she had lying on the passenger seat. She had to make sure it would fit into the false bottom in the back of her Hummer. “Weight?”
“About two hundred and fifty pounds.”
She scribbled that down. “Explosive or toxic?”
“Neither.”
Sangria breathed a sigh of relief. She hated those jobs and was planning to avoid taking on any more. About a year ago, she transported a toxic case that was supposedly airtight and safe. When she arrived at the designated address, she was whisked inside a large warehouse by two men in white suits and facemasks and put into a detox station.
There she spent the next two hours naked, under scalding hot water, while two other men scrubbed her body with hard bristled brushes. She had been sore and raw for weeks afterward. However, she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever they were trying to get off her skin made its way inside anyway. She’d been feeling weird lately.
“Pickup and delivery addresses?”
“Pick up at the corner of Rochester and Selby; deliver to 1020 East Bonanza Road, Las Vegas.”
Sangria punched the addresses into her GPS system mounted on the dashboard. Instantly she had the distance calculated and the time estimation of how long it would take her to go from one place to the other if the traffic was flowing and she drove the posted speed limit.
“An approximate driving time of four hours and ten minutes. I can pick up the package early in the a.m.”
“Now,” the woman demanded. “I need you to pick it up now.”
Sangria didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Something about the woman’s voice bothered her. Too icy, too controlled. A woman without emotions was a very dangerous person.
“That will cost you—”
“Two million.”
Fingers poised over the GPS system, Sangria froze. That was more money than she hoped to make in the next two years. Her usual transporting fee was twenty thousand. She made a comfortable living on that, with a job or two a month. With two million from one delivery, she could actually retire from the job and settle down in a Caribbean country like the one she always dreamed of. But there had to be a catch.
“Excuse me?” Sangria choked.
“I will pay you two million dollars to come now, tonight, to pick up my package and deliver it to Vegas.”
“My usual fee is twen—”
“I know what you usually get paid, Ms. Silver,” the woman interrupted.
Sangria swallowed hard. The woman knew her name. She went to great pains to be anonymous. Her vehicle was registered t
o a company with three bogus owners who didn’t exist. Her modest house was leased under a false identity that Sangria had created online, complete with birth certificate and social security number. Being an orphan and having run away from every foster home she’d been sent to, she had no family to speak of. And she had no friends and no regular lover. Sure, she had a couple of acquaintances who owed her favors, but it was strictly business not personal.
How did this woman know who she was?
Before she could speak, the woman continued as if reading Sangria’s thoughts. “Yes, I know who you are. I wouldn’t be in my position if I allowed people I come in contact with to remain anonymous.” She chuckled. “But I have to admit it did take longer than usual to uncover who you really are. You’re very good at hiding.” There was a long pause and then, “I’ll have to remember that.”
“What do you want?” A sense of dread started to wash over Sangria. She was never any good at dealing with glitches in her system. Her attention to detail and organization made her feel safe, secure. Now, she felt anything but.
“Your silence.”
“If you’ve called me then you must be aware of my reputation for discretion.”
“I am quite aware,” she stated icily. “But I am not some drug dealer moving H across state lines, or an arms dealer moving guns from New Mexico to Texas. I am so much more dangerous than that, Sangria.”
All the air left her lungs, and she had to close her eyes to stop from panicking. The woman knew about Sangria’s other conveying jobs. How was that possible? Unless she had been watched for the past year? But why?
Sangria’s hands were trembling, and she had to squeeze them together to stop from shaking. She couldn’t take this job. She had a frightening feeling that it would be her last. And not in a good, retirement type of way. Somehow, though, Sangria knew refusal wasn’t an option.
“I figured that out the moment I heard your voice,” Sangria answered trying to keep her voice from trembling.
