Sequel to Loving Sarah
Owning Sarah
It’s been a month since Sarah Marshall was kidnapped and held at knifepoint by her ex-fiance. But Jesse Colter and Adam Sinclair, her two loving Doms, know that there is an even deadlier threat still out there—Ryder Malone.
He blames both Sarah and Jesse for sending him to prison eight years ago for attempted rape, and he’s determined to make them pay. So, he begins a systematic campaign of terror and intimidation against them. But the danger he poses doesn’t end there.
Set against the deepening love and commitment between Sarah, Jesse, and Adam, Owning Sarah is more than just a sexy, sensual, BDSM love story. It is a harrowing race against time for Jesse, Adam, and a team of former SEALs to stop one of the biggest arms-for-drugs deals in US history. And to rescue Sarah before Malone sells her to a human trafficker and she’s lost to her men forever.
Note: This book contains topping by the heroine.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 140,110 words
OWNING SARAH
Sequel to Loving Sarah
Julie Shelton
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
OWNING SARAH
Copyright © 2013 by Julie Shelton
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-501-0
First E-book Publication: September 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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This is Julie Shelton’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Shelton’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Jill, my critique partner, research assistant, idea guru (especially when it comes to anything naughty or kinky—the kinkier the better), encourager, cajoler, martinet, and all-around, general noodge. She is also my friend.
The fact that you are holding this book in your hand is due in large part to her. Without all of the above, I would probably still be writing it.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
OWNING SARAH
Sequel to Loving Sarah
JULIE SHELTON
Copyright © 2013
Prologue
Omigod, heavy! Heavy! Heavy! Putitbackputitbackputitba—holy shit!
Unable to lock his elbows, arms getting weaker by the second, he watched in mounting terror as the heavy barbell wobbled dangerously above his head. A guttural growl became a panic-stricken roar as the weight grew increasingly unsteady.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
His heart was pounding so hard, he was amazed it didn’t explode. Surely he’d ruptured several major blood vessels. Muscles straining with superhuman effort, he barely managed to guide the heavy weight back toward its stand, dropping it between the prongs with a loud, metallic clang!
Christ, that was close! Fuckin’ thing coulda crushed me! Holy fuckin’ hell!
Unable to lift his arms, he just lay there, lungs heaving like a bellows, feeling his muscles spasm and twitch like they were being zapped with an electrical current.
Christ, I never shoulda let myself get so outta shape. If it comes down to a showdown between me and those two fuckers Ms. High-and-Mighty Marshall’s been leadin’ around by their dicks, I gotta be prepared. Gotta be faster than them, stronger than them, smarter than them. He grinned. No problem there. That stupid Breed—yeah, he’s big, but can he get out of his own way? Can he think his way out of a paper bag? After all, wasn’t he in the fuckin’ army or something? Sayin’ yes sir, no sir and followin’ orders like some mindless zombie? Riskin’ life and limb…and for what? God and country? Hah! Gimme a break! Only stupid people join the military. After all, what could be stupider than wearin’ eight hundred pounds of heavy gear and gettin’ yourself shot at?
Oh, yeah? Well, if he’s so stupid, then how come you’re lyin’ here liftin’ weights instead of lyin’ on some sunny beach somewhere fuckin’ your new sex slave? How come, in the month since you first tried to snatch her, you haven’t been able to get within spittin’ distance of her?
How come? I’ll tell you how come. Those fuckers got to her first, and they’ve isolated her. Between all the damn bodyguards that surround her everywhere she goes, and some kind of super electronic surveillance system at Colter’s property, that fuckin’ Breed has somehow managed to keep me from carryin’ out my plans.
But I’ll get her. I’ve waited too long to give up now—eight fuckin’ years. If I can wait eight fuckin’ year
s, I can wait a few more days. There’s a weakness in their arrangement—has to be. I just haven’t figured it out yet, but I will.
Curling upward to a sitting position, he kept going until he was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging, hands dangling between his legs. He took a deep, fortifying breath and nearly gagged. Christ, I need a shower! I smell like a fuckin’ goat.
Chapter One
“Afternoon, Counselor. Got a minute?”
Sarah’s pen hovered over the page, her whole body tightening in anticipation. That voice. God, she loved that voice. Midnight dark, velvet smooth, full of promise…and sensual threat. Her belly clenched, sending a flood of pussy juice out onto the already-wet silk of her panties, as if the thoughts she’d been having about all the delicious things they’d done in bed that morning had somehow conjured him up and brought him to her. Slowly she lowered the pen and raised her head to see Jesse standing in the open doorway of her office, his magnificent body filling the empty space.
One shoulder rested casually against the doorframe, one booted foot was crossed in front of the other, and his arms were folded across his broad chest. His stance may have been easy and relaxed, but the raw power emanating from him left no doubt that he controlled the space around him. And the look he gave her, a look filled with raw, sexual hunger and need, left her in no doubt that he would soon be controlling her as well.
Her mouth went dry. Holy crap! Her stomach plummeted and even more juice spilled out onto her panties as she found herself staring into the obsidian depths of his gaze. He had never looked more predatory than he did at that moment. Every cell in her body burst into life, celebrating like a squad of demented cheerleaders, jumping up and down and shaking pompoms. God, he was so gorgeous! How she loved those wide shoulders, that massive chest, slender hips, and nicely rounded ass. To say nothing of those full, sensuous lips, hawk’s blade of a nose, and killer cheekbones—Yum! And don’t forget all those delicious muscles, her inner imp, Dolores, reminded her, bunching and rippling and…Good grief, how could any one man be so damn sexy? Dressed in the official Marshall’s Creek PD uniform of black cargo pants and logoed black T-shirt, with his mirrored aviators hooked over the neckline, and black biker boots, his score on the Official Alpha Male Hot-O-Meter was…okay, so he broke the Official Alpha Male Hot-O-Meter.
As she watched, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, he unfolded his arms and pushed easily off the doorframe, moving with a fluid grace that was so at odds with his large size. He entered the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Her office was spacious, but with him in it, it seemed cramped. As soon as she saw his shit-eating grin and the predatory gleam in his eyes, she knew she was in trouble. He looked raw. Untamed. Stripped of civilization.
“Jesse…”
“Strip, little sub. Now.”
Okay, strike that. She wasn’t in trouble. She was in bi-i-ig trouble. “I beg your pardon?” Oh, my God, is that my voice? I sound like a chipmunk on helium! Tilting her head regally, she rose from her chair and stood stiffly, lifting her chin in defiance. She was determined not to go down without a fight. This was her office, for crying out loud, not The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. She cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders and summoning all the authority and righteous indignation she could muster. After all, it was important, in any new relationship, to set boundaries. “Jesse, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re not going to do it in here.”
One eyebrow rose as he continued to advance.
Just in time she stopped herself from putting up her hand to ward him off. Yeah, like that’d work.
“I gave you an order, Sarah.”
“Jesse!” It was an angry hiss. “This is not the bedroom, this is the county attorney’s office. My office, where I’m in charge. You can’t just come barging in here and order me to strip!”
“No?” He stopped around a foot in front of her, lifting his right hand to palm the side of her neck, a deliberate act of possession. He held her in place easily while the fingertips of his left hand traced a path across her cheek, down her throat, barely grazing her skin before coming to rest against the pulse point pounding frantically in the hollow of her throat. “You tellin’ me you don’t want this? ‘Cause this”—he tapped his fingertip against it—“tells me otherwise.”
He watched her throat work as she swallowed. Hard. Knew she was torn between her lingering sense of propriety and her overwhelming need to surrender. Knew how difficult she was finding it to believe that freeing her from the last of her shyness did not equal humiliation, but glorification. He’d already done everything he could to control this particular scene. He’d told Heather, her receptionist, that they were not, under any circumstances, to be disturbed. And he’d locked the door on his way in.
But he wasn’t about to tell Sarah that. Not yet anyway. After all, it was important in any new D/s relationship to set boundaries. A good Dom always kept his sub off balance. It was a matter of principle, as well as a matter of trust. She had to trust him enough to know he would keep her safe while giving her the pleasure she craved. The pleasure she needed. Although he and Adam and Sarah had only been together for a little over a month now, she was still finding it difficult to just let go and put herself fully in their hands.
It was a situation he regretted to the bottom of his soul. A situation he knew he’d played a major role in by disappearing from her life eight years ago with no word of explanation or farewell. A situation he and his best friend Adam were determined to remedy by taking her beyond her comfort zone into sexual freedom. By continuing to push the boundaries of her pleasure, revealing the exquisitely wanton and sexy woman she was beneath all the layers of sanctimonious crap heaped on her by her harsh, judgmental father, her abusive ex, and society at large. But mostly by loving her, by cherishing her, and slowly but surely, by earning her trust.
Trust didn’t come easily to her, especially since her harrowing experience less than three weeks ago with Phillip Nugent, her ex-fiancé. He’d kidnapped her and held her at knife-point, nearly slitting her throat before Jesse and Adam and two of their SEAL buddies were able to rescue her.
Jesse closed his eyes, swallowing with difficulty around the sudden thickness in his throat. He wouldn’t think about that now. Wouldn’t think about how close he’d come to losing her. He gentled the hand gripping her neck and bent his head to place his forehead against hers. “Did you not catch the part where I told you to strip?” he asked quietly.
“Did you not catch the part where I reminded you that you are in my office?” She fought to inject steel into her voice, but failed miserably. She’d already lost this particular battle and she knew it. The heat from his body flowed over her like liquid fire, weakening her knees and igniting a conflagration deep within her core. Electricity arced between them, crackling and sparking like a damaged control panel on the Starship Enterprise. She could almost smell the ozone. Caught up in a wave of shimmering desire, she could feel her resistance ebbing away.
He straightened. “Look at me, Sarah.”
She licked her lips, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on Jesse’s chin, unwilling to meet his eyes. She didn’t want him to see just how close she was to giving in. “I’ve seen you before,” she replied stubbornly. “I know what you look like.”
Suppressing a grin, he tightened his grip on the back of her neck. He loved her sass, but wasn’t about to encourage it. Threading his long fingers through her hair, he fisted them, using her hair as a handle to tug her head back and force her gaze up to his.
Her breathing hitched then stopped. Something dark and wild roamed in the glittering blackness of his eyes. Something that sent yet another torrent of fresh cream gushing between her legs. Something that excited her even as it frightened her. She crossed her arms over her breasts.
“You’re trying to control me, Jesse. Just like Phillip.” Oh, my God! Did I just say that? Did I just compare this man, the man I love more than life itself, to the man who n
early killed me just to get his hands on my money?
“Not like Phillip, and you damn well know it!” His voice sharpened, taking on a harsh edge. “Fuck, Sarah, how can you even say such a thing?”
“I—” Her throat closed. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Adam and I control you because we love you and cherish you and want to spend the rest of our lives givin’ you multiple orgasms so we can have the pleasure of watchin’ you come. And even then, we only do it because you allow us to. After all, that’s what your safe word is for. With that, you can stop us any time you want. Did Asshole give you a safe word? Did he listen when you said no? When you told him to stop, did he? Of course not! In fact, less than a month ago, he hit you so hard he broke your cheekbone, then nearly slit your throat.”
She winced, remembering the pain and horror of that encounter.
Both Jesse’s voice and his touch gentled. “Nugent controlled you with violence and intimidation purely in order to crush you, to grind you under his heel and keep you subjugated. Because that’s the only way a weak man can deal with a strong woman like you. We control you with pleasure, in order to free you, to let you fly. That’s the difference between power exchange and abuse. With power exchange you have a choice, with abuse, you don’t.”
“Like I have a choice now?” she asked.
“You always have a choice, Sarah. Submittin’ is a choice. All you have to do to stop me right now is say your safe word, and I’ll go back to the station.” He paused. “Are you usin’ your safe word?”
Owning Sarah [Sequel to Loving Sarah] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 1
