by Renee Rose
Training His Human (Book 3)
“YOUR OBEDIENCE TRAINING BEGINS TODAY.”
Seke has no interest in owning or training a slave. Not even Leora, the beautiful human who had captivated his thoughts and fantasies since her arrival on their pod. As the Zandian Master of Arms, he has a war to plan and new troops to train. He can’t be tempted by the breathtaking human slave, who, according to Prince Zander, grows aroused by punishment. Yet he can’t allow another male to bring her to heel either. Not his Leora.
In all her lifetime as a slave, Leora might have submitted in body, but never in mind. But the prince has given her to the huge, scarred warrior, Seke, for punishment and she finds he has unexpected ways of bending her to his will. Ways that leave her trembling and half-mad with desire. But her new master is unwilling to take a new mate, and she fears that once he deems her training complete, he will set her aside, leaving her heart in pieces.
His Human Rebel (Book 4)
CONSCRIPTED BY AN ALIEN ARMY, SHE PLOTS HER ESCAPE…
Cambry doesn’t believe the aliens’ propaganda for one minute. The Zandians may have saved her from one death, but they planned to send her to another. She bides her time, waiting for her chance to get away and find her brother, enslaved by a different species. The only thing she didn’t count on was Lundric, the tempting Zandian warrior who, for some reason, decided she was his female.
Lundric knew the fierce little rebel Cambry belonged to him the moment he saw her toss that auburn hair in defiance. He knows she hasn’t accepted him or the Zandian’s cause, but he vows to win her, no matter what it takes. But when Cambry steals a ship and attempts to escape, even his harshest punishment may not restore the trust between them.
His Human Vessel (Zandian Masters Book 5)
HE PURCHASED HER TO BEAR A CHILD...HE WILL ALSO OWN HER SUBMISSION.
Bayla's destiny had been set from the beginning. Her body would be used for sex and breeding. Nothing changed when the sexy Zandian doctor purchased her from the baby farm and brought her to his examination room.
Nothing. And everything.
Daneth has always lived in his head, letting science govern his thoughts and choices. Having Bayla in his lab shouldn't change that, but somehow the submissive human female gets under his skin. No matter how harshly he punishes her, she responds to his touch with passion, sparking a lust that threatens to distract him from his plans.
When Bayla learns Daneth has a weakness for her, she presses her advantage, but she has no desire to bear yet another child and have it taken from her arms. If only she could figure out how to stay with the dominant alien doctor but avoid the pregnancy...
Also, check out The Hand of Vengeance
~Winner, Best Erotic Sci-Fi, The Romance Reviews Reader's Pick Awards~
ON HIS PLANET, WOMEN ARE PUNISHED WHEN THEY DISOBEY...
Dr. Lara Simmons can handle difficult surgeries on the battlefield of a war-torn planet. She can even handle her capture by rebels who need her skills to save the life of an important figurehead. But she wasn't prepared for being stuck out in the wilderness with Blade Vengeance, the fierce tattooed rebel warrior with antiquated views of gender roles and corporal punishment. Dominant and unyielding, he doesn't hesitate to take her in hand when she disobeys his rules. Yet he also delivers pleasure—with a passion she's never before experienced.
Blade finds the doctor from Earth sexy as hell, especially when she's giving him attitude, but once he delivers her safely to headquarters, he pulls back from her allure. Known for single-handedly starting the revolution and freeing many of his people, his life is one of hardship, slavery and war. Going soft on a woman isn't part of his plan, especially with the final strike of the revolution so close. But when he sends Lara back to Earth to keep her safe during the upcoming battle, he inadvertently delivers her into enemy hands. Can he find and save her from the revolution he caused?
Her Alien Masters (Captives of Pra'kir Book 3)
SHE SURVIVED THE CRASH. THEY’LL MAKE HER WISH SHE HADN’T…
Mira thought the crash into an alien planet was bad. Even worse was their police chasing her through a mall and shooting at her. Imprisonment for her and her shipmates’ supposed crimes took the cake.
But now they've sentenced her to a lifetime “fostering” with two enormous males who punish her, keep her subjugated and force her to call them “master.” And they’ve given her a job—raising their three nieces, whom she inadvertently orphaned when her ship crashed.
Twin brothers Jakk and Gav’n already have their hands full trying to manage their three unruly and grieving nieces. The last thing they need is a rebellious human. Except they find she’s more than worth the trouble. She may be unwilling, but she is beautiful, intelligent and best of all, bound to them for life.
READ NOW
Have you started Renee Rose and Lee Savino’s new Bad Boy Alpha series?
Enjoy this sample chapter from Book 1, Alpha’s Temptation
CG: Catgirl was here.
King1: I see you.
CG: Nice code.
King1: You’re going down. No pity for the kitty.
CG: Oooh, talk tough to me, baby.
—Conversation between hacker and Jackson King, CEO and founder of SeCure, 2009
Alpha’s Temptation - Chapter One
Kylie
Holy irony, Batman.
As a teen, I hacked into a company and waved a virtual victory flag in the founder and CEO’s face. Nine years later, I’m interviewing for a job there. And not just any job—one in infosec. Information systems security, that is. If I get the job, I’ll be defending the company against hackers. Like Catgirl—my old DefCon identity.
So here I sit, in the opulent lobby of SeCure’s international headquarters, wondering if they’ll somehow recognize me and send me out in handcuffs.
A group of employees stroll past me, laughing and talking. They look relaxed and happy, like they’re headed into a resort, not their nine-to-five grind.
Damn, I want this job.
I changed my outfit approximately ninety-seven times this morning—and I usually don’t care what I wear. But this is the interview of a lifetime, and I’ve obsessed over getting every detail right. In the end, I chose a sleek black suit, the kind with a fitted jacket and short, tight skirt. I opted for no hose, going bare-legged, but stuffed my feet in a pair of sexy heels. Underneath the suit jacket went my favorite Batgirl shirt. It fits tight around my breasts, and the hot pink glittery bat nestles perfectly between the lapels of my jacket.
The outfit screams “young and hip” IT genius, while the suit flips a nod to the conservative corporate thing. I debated over heels or Chucks, but, in the end, the heels won out. Which is too bad, because when Stu, my contact, comes down for me, I’ll have to stand up in them. And walk.
If my teenage hacker self saw me now, she would laugh in my face and call me a sellout. But even she shared my obsession with SeCure’s billionaire founder/owner, Jackson King. An obsession that’s morphed into admiration with a heavy dose of sexual attraction.
Okay, it’s a crush. But Jackson is totally crush worthy. Billionaire philanthropist, he’s endlessly impressive. Not to mention smoking hot. Especially for a geek.
And the one moment we shared—the moment when I made it past all his security measures and found myself face-to-face with him—well, cursor to cursor—is branded in my memory as the hottest encounter of my youth. I didn’t steal anything from him. I simply wanted to see if I could get in—crack the genius code. I backed out after he found me, and never risked going back.
Now, I might have another shot at cyber sparring with King, and the thought thrills me.
Especially since, this time, my actions wouldn’t be illegal.
“Ms. McDaniel?”
I shoot to my feet, hand already extended, ready to shake. I only wobble a little on the heels. “Hi.” Damn, I sound breathless. I force my shoulders down and smile as I grip the offered palm.
“Hi, I’m Stu Daniel, infosec manager here at SeCure.” He looks like a proper nerd, glasses, collared shirt, slacks. Thirty or so. His eyes flick to the pink bat in the middle of my boobs and then away. Maybe the T-shirt was a mistake.
I keep pumping his hand, probably for too long. I read five business books to prep for today, but can’t remember what Interviewing For Dummies said about the proper length of time to shake a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Fortunately, Stu is just as awkward as I am. His eyes keep detouring downward. Not like he’s trying to perv, but like he’s too shy to maintain eye contact. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll head to the sixth floor for the interview.”
In addition to unbreakable cyber security, SeCure’s physical fortress is also well-protected. When I walked in across the gleaming marble floors and checked in at main reception desk, they told me to wait in the lobby for an “escort” to my interview.
I trail after my escort. “Beautiful building you have here.”
Okay, that was lame. I suck at small talk. Like, really suck. Maybe I shouldn’t have spent the last eight years hiding from all social interaction. IT geeks shouldn’t have to interview like normal people. They should just have to take a test or hack something. But, presumably, SeCure already knows about my code-cracking abilities, or so the headhunter said. I nearly choked on my coffee when she called me up out of the blue. I thought it was a prank by one of my old online compatriots—the Clean Clan. But, no, it was legit.
Besides, the chances of anyone from my old life finding me now are nil. At least, I hope so.
Stu leads me to the elevator bank and hits the up arrow. The doors of one elevator swing open to reveal a man in an elegant suit, his head bent over his phone. Tall and broad-shouldered, he takes up more than his fair share of the elevator. Without looking up, he moves to the side to make room for us.
Stu lets me step on first, and I push down panic. It’s a small elevator, but not too small. I can handle it. If I get the job, I’ll find out where the stairwells are.
I focus on the bright buttons and hope it’s a fast ride.
Before my escort can board, someone calls his name.
“One sec,” Stu says as a young woman bustles over, followed by two other people. “Stu, the Galileo server shut down this morning…”
Great. Just what I need—extra time in an elevator. I swallow, ignoring the prickling on my skin. A panic attack will not make a good impression.
Stu takes his foot out of the door as the young woman opens her laptop to show him something.
The door snicks closed, and the elevator ascends. Just like that, I’ve lost my escort. So much for tight security.
I punch the number six button. I know where I’m going. The sooner I’m off this tiny box of death, the better.
We’re halfway up when the lights flicker. Once, twice, then off.
“What the…” I trail off to focus on breathing. I have about a ten second window before full on freak out.
The suit next to me mutters something. The light from his phone casts an eerie blue light on the walls.
The elevator car grinds to a stop.
Oh no. Here it comes. My heart slams in my chest; my lungs grab for breath.
Stop, I tell my panic. It’s nothing. The elevator will start up again in a second. You’re not stuck here.
My body doesn’t believe me. My stomach clutches, skin grows clammy. Everything goes dark. Either my vision has dimmed or the guy has just put his phone to his ear. I sway on my feet.
The big guy curses. “No reception in here.”
My heel twists under me, and I grab the rail, breath coming in quick gasps.
“Hey.” The guy has a voice to match his giant size, deep and resonant. I’d find it sexy under different circumstances. “Are you freaking out?” Slight disdain in his tone.
Not my fault, buddy. “Yeah.” I barely get the word out on a pant. My death grip on the handrail tightens.
Stay on your feet. Don’t faint—not now. Not here.
“I don’t like small spaces.” Understatement of the year.
Did the elevator just move? Or is my body reeling out of control? Old panic grips me. I’ll die in here. I’m never going to get out.
Two large hands push me back against the elevator wall, pinning me with pressure on my sternum. “Wh-what are you doing?” I gasp.
“Triggering your calm reflex.” He sounds calm, as if he shoves hyperventilating girls up against a wall on a daily basis. “Is it working?”
“Yeah. Having a strange guy grope me always calms me down.” I swore I’d hide my sarcasm until I landed the job, but here it comes, spewing out. Being seconds away from passing out will do that to a girl.
“I’m not groping you,” he says.
“That’s what all the guys say,” I mumble.
His short chuckle cuts off as soon as it starts. Almost like he didn’t mean to let it out.
Who is this guy?
My heart rate slows, but my head still spins. I’ve never had a man stand so close to me before. Not to mention touch me. A few inches over, and he’d be cupping my breasts.
Now, there’s a thought. Sensations I haven’t felt before outside the privacy of my bedroom thrill through me.
“Not that I mind you groping me,” I babble. “I just think you should buy me dinner first—”
His hands leave my sternum so fast, I lurch forward. Before I can fall, he catches my shoulders and flips me around. He locks his arms around me from behind, applying pressure to my breastbone again.
“How’s this?” He sounds amused. “Better? I don’t want my good deed to get me written up on charges of sexual harassment.”
God, his voice. His lips are right next to my ear. He’s not trying to seduce me, but, man oh man, just the words “sexual harassment” light my body up.
“Sorry.” My voice strangles a bit. “I didn’t mean to accuse you. What I meant was...thank you.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move, and I breathe into his firm hands, surrounding me, protecting me, keeping me safe. And all I can think is…damn. I thought a panic attack would be bad. Now I’m stuck in an elevator, wrapped in a total stranger’s arms. So. Very. Turned. On. It’s like my pussy is disconnected from my body. The rest of me is running around wringing my hands with worry, but my hooha thinks being manhandled by a stranger in a dark elevator is a good reason to get all excited.
“You should sit down.”
Apparently, I have no choice, because he lowers me to the ground with steady, inexorable pressure. Once there, he eases me against the wall, his firm, yet gentle hands maneuvering me like a doll. Sharp words dance on the tip of my tongue—I’m a grown ass woman, not Barbie—but sitting feels good. Despite his blunt caveman act, he’s taking care of me. I almost miss his hands on my sternum.
“Where’d you learn that?” I ask to distract myself from the fact I’m trapped in a tight rectangle of space with a guy who has no qualms about running his hands all over me. I am totally qualm-less about it, too, though I wish I could remember what he looks like. All I have is a vague impression of a rugged jaw and air of impatience. I was too focused on psyching myself up to ride the elevator to check him out.
“Years and years of terrifying women in dark places.”
Ah. A kindred spirit in dry wit. I like him even more. “Thanks,” I say after a moment.
He sits down next to me, his suit jacket brushing mine. “You’re still freaking out.”
“Yeah, but it’s better. Talking would help. Can we talk?”
“Okay.” He adopts a German accent to sound like Freud, “Ven did you first notice zee problem?”
~.~
Jackson
The beautiful human female’s laugh comes so hard, she almost chokes on it. She continues to giggle for a moment—somewhat hysterically. Little bubbles of laughter keep rising to the surface every time she tries to speak. Finally, she chokes out, “I meant talk to distract me—about something else.”
I never joke—especially at work—but the leggy brunette in a short, tight skirt puts my body on alert in an all-too pleasurable way. It’s better now that I’m not touching her. When I did, the electricity between us set my skin on fire. The itch and burn of the change came upon me as fast as it does a pubescent teen just learning how to shift. I nearly shoved her legs apart, pulled that miniscule skirt up around her waist, and claimed her right there.
Actually, my wolf senses went haywire the moment she stepped onto the elevator. It was all I could do to keep quiet and study her. Her scent intoxicates me—like some exotic flower begging to be plucked, except decidedly human. None of it makes sense. There’s no reason I should be attracted to her, apart from the fact she’s gorgeous. I’ve never been attracted to a human before—hell, I’ve hardly ever been attracted to a she-wolf, even at the full moon.
To make it worse, she became aroused when I touched her—the scent of her nectar fills the confined space. For the first time in my life, my fangs sharpened, slick with serum, ready to sink into her flesh and forever mark her as mine.
But that is insane. I can’t mark a human—she wouldn’t survive it. This human—beautiful though she may be—can’t be my mate.
I look her over, at a distinct advantage because I can see in the dark and she can’t. She’s stunning in every way—long, shapely legs, an ass that fills her short skirt, and Batgirl tits. That is, she has a hot pink bat on the front of her shirt, right over a pair of perky tits. And something about that bat just throws me over the edge. Spunky little superhero, begging to be bested.
