by Selena Kitt
"At twenty years you could retire." Her eyes narrowed as her voice turned firm with conviction. "You've done your fair share, Flynn. Nearly two decades is more than enough."
His hand slid out of her hair to cup her cheek, intense pleasure welling in his chest as she nuzzled his palm. "Such a tigress in defense of your man. I like it. Rest easy though, the chances of being reassigned to another team are very low. I promise."
She lowered her eyes and nodded, then ran her hand down his chest, pausing on his still wet abdomen and returned to her task. As she lifted the towel to pay attention to the parts she had missed, he had other ideas.
"Drop the towel, Cassie. I think your tongue will suffice."
He didn't have to ask twice as the terrycloth fell to the floor. With butterfly kisses, she lapped up the droplets from his skin, beginning low on his right hip as her hands came around to his backside and slid over his ass. His cock jerked, demanding her lips pay it the attention it was due. He took it in his hand and as his fingers speared into the hair at the side of her head, he guided it to her mouth.
"This is in need of your attention the most."
Hot and wet, her tongue came out and swirled around the head. Then she dipped down, and with her beautiful blue eyes gazing up at him, she slowly dragged the flat of her tongue along the underside of his dick. His balls ached at the sensation and a tightness formed low in his gut.
"Suck me." His order raspy with a throaty groan. "Slow and deep, with plenty of wetness and suction."
Moving back up to the tip, she opened and sank onto his cock, taking him onto her tongue and to the back of her throat. Those bright blue beautiful orbs locked onto his, as she swallowed his cock, had to be one of the most erotic sights he'd ever seen.
She withdrew slowly with strong suction, then without releasing it, went down on him again. His other hand came up and slid into her hair. As she steadied herself on his thighs, he began to slowly fuck her mouth, not giving her more than she could take, while still setting a pace he liked and showing her clearly that he had control.
"Damn, Cassie, you have an incredible mouth."
He thrust his hips, and she took him deep, handling all that he gave her. It was almost too much for him. If he didn't stop soon, he'd come down her throat. That was for another time, sooner than later, but tonight he wanted to come in her pussy.
Flynn withdrew from the heaven of her mouth, pulled her to her feet, and into his arms. He took her lips, sucking her talented tongue into his mouth. Urgent to taste her sweetness again, he broke off the kiss and lifted her, carrying her back to bed. There, he located the cuffs secured to the headboard, greatly pleased with her eager compliance when she helped by holding up her wrists.
"You like being bound, don't you, baby?"
"Yes. Giving up control to you is hot, sir."
"So noted." He grinned. "You'll be glad to know I like having you bound and spread, open wide for whatever I want to do to you. That's what does it for me."
With her wrists tied to the posts at the head of the bed, he found leg straps on the sides of the bed and wrapped them around her thighs, holding her wide open and completely vulnerable. He took a moment to admire the sight of her, lips parted as she panted from excitement, full breasts rising and falling rapidly, her pussy glistening wetly as she waited for what he would do next. Hungry again, he lowered his mouth to her sex and consumed her, the sweetness of her cunt something he'd never get his fill of. He didn't stop until she screamed through not one, but two more climaxes.
Then he rose above her, and with his knees on the bed, he bracketed her torso with his hands and locked his arms. Then in a slow downward plunge, he drove his cock into her tight, hot, dripping wet channel with excruciating slowness.
"I'm gonna come again," she cried.
"Then do it, realizing that makes the count six to two, and I'm not letting you up until I even the score."
"You're going to kill me with pleasure."
"Highly unlikely, sweetheart." He grinned as he lowered himself into her body with a slow reverse push-up. "But that sure would be a hell of a way to go."
* * *
The following Monday, they drove together to work, Flynn dropping her off before heading to the firing range for drills. He came around to her side of the SUV and opened the door, watching as Cassie hopped down, wincing a bit at the jarring landing.
"What's wrong? Are you sore?"
"Yes, my muscles aren't used to such activity."
"You're out of practice, imp. I'll have to whip you into shape. Maybe I'll put you through phase one conditioning like we do with the SEALs."
"I'm afraid running and swimming aren't going to help where I hurt, Commander."
He slammed the door and took her hand, becoming more than a little concerned when she groaned as they mounted the stairs.
"Tonight, you get a hot bath and a deep tissue massage. I didn't intend to fuck you until you couldn't walk, truly."
She gasped, glancing around to see if anyone may have heard. "This isn't from sex. I weeded your rose garden out back yesterday."
"What for? I have a lawn service for that."
"I know, but they missed your granddad's white roses, then when I started I couldn't stop. Now my hamstrings are killing me."
"New plan. Bath, massage, then a sound paddling."
Her head snapped up and she gaped at him. "What did I do to earn that?"
"You don't have to earn it," he replied with a chuckle. "Your ass fits my hand perfectly and is made for spanking."
"That can't possibly be my fault."
"No, but since your gardening made you too sore for me to fuck, you've got to give me something."
She rolled her eyes as she walked through the main entrance while he held the door. He caught the move, and couldn't keep from smiling and teasing her more. As he came alongside her, his hand fell to her waist, the tips of his fingers deliberately resting on the upper curve of her behind when he added, "That look right there earned you a plug for good measure."
"What have I done?" she groaned dramatically. "You're a sadist."
"Hardly. Wait until you see the real ones at the club. And, you have to admit, you've enjoyed everything I've done to you so far."
"Yes, but you have a vivid imagination."
"True, which means all the better for you, sweetheart. Say 'Thank you, Flynn.'"
"How about I love you, instead?"
He came to a halt and spun her into his arms, hauling her mouth up to his for a kiss, not caring in the least who might be around. "That I'll take, baby, every day."
The End
Maddie Taylor
A lifelong reader, Maddie became a romance junkie as a teen with her first romance novel, The Wolf and the Dove by Kathleen Woodiwiss. From then on, she was hooked, and gobbled up everything she could get her hands on, whether contemporary, historical, paranormal or sci-fi. If there was romance to be found between a strong alpha male, and a sassy, adventurous and oftimes defiant yet loving woman Maddie was all over it. As an author, she stays true to those themes writing steamy erotic romance, with a side of kink, and adding elements of intrigue, danger and suspense to her plots.
Maddie started writing as a hobby. Her stories stayed private while she raised a family and worked full time as a registered nurse. It wasn’t until 2012 that she decided to take the plunge and submit her first book for publication: Captain My Captain. She found acceptance at Blushing Books and published an impressive twelve novels the first year.
She’s still juggling writing with her day job and you’ll find her working at her laptop into the wee hours of the night, scribbling plot ideas onto the notebook she always keeps handy, and working out the details of a scene while floating around in her pool with a lemon drop in hand. Don’t be surprised if you see her pulling over on the side of the road to capture an idea for a scene on paper, because as Maddie says, her best ideas always come when there isn’t a pen in a five-mile radius.
An int
erview with Maddie Taylor
http://creativelyconstance.blogspot.com/2013/07/maddie-taylor-sent-to-dungeon-for-being.html
Visit her webpage here:
http://www.maddietaylorromance.com
Visit her Facebook page here:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Romantic-Erotic-Fiction-by-Maddie-Taylor/406292399483414
Don’t miss these exciting titles by Maddie Taylor and Blushing Books!
Club Decadence Series
Faithfully, Prequel
Captain, My Captain, Book 1
You Said Forever, Book 2
Little Light of Mine, Book 3
Unbind My Heart, Book 4
Second Time Lucky, Book 5
What About Love, Book 6
Decadence L.A. Series
Master My Love
Anthologies:
The Sons of Johnny Hastings
With Hearts Aflame: Valentine's Day Box Set
The Naughty List
Single Titles:
Surrender Your Grace
The Gift
Everything Christmas
The Juniper Bride
Decadent Nights Series:
Hooked
Understanding The Enemy
By
Tabitha Black
Chapter One
Lena's heart was in her throat; she could hear nothing but the roaring in her ears. After so many weeks of being careful; night after night of creeping about, that slightly sick feeling of dread whenever she approached the compound, the cold, the ruthlessly attacking insects... the game was up.
She was trapped. Or was she?
Wildly, she looked around, trying desperately to blot out the shouts of those who, if they caught her, would surely kill her on the spot—or worse. She could hear dogs, too, the genetically enhanced hounds which had been bred purely to track—and attack.
Oh, dear God, please, please let me get out of here in one piece. Or at least make it a clean shot to the head… not the dogs. Please not the dogs.
The moon was almost full, but it had been darkened by the thick clouds which always burdened the sky above Saxo, day and night. But it was a blustery night and for once, luck was on Lena's side. For the briefest of moments, the pale orb came out from its hiding place. It was enough. The voices were coming from Lena's right and, to her left, she saw a path through the tangled, thorny scrub which surrounded the compound.
It was her only hope. Lena ran.
Ignoring the way the overgrown bushes were tearing at her arms and legs, she ran as fast as she could; her only thought being that she couldn't let the militia get her alive.
The militia.
The camera.
With a strangled cry, she fumbled for the camera she had been using night after night to record the militia's movements; the layout of the compound—the biggest weapon the Resistance had—and managed to tug it free from her shirt, flinging it as far away as she could.
Then she heard the first shot; felt the first bullet whizz past her ear.
On sheer instinct, Lena dropped like a stone; flattening herself to the muddy ground, trying to hear anything above the roaring, pounding of blood in her head.
Then the sick feeling of dread turned into full-blown panic when a heavy boot landed on the back of her neck, pressing her further into the dirt.
"Gotcha."
* * *
Blaze sat at his desk, running his hand over his closely shaved head. Another night, another shift. It was his life. Sleep, wake up, train, eat, go to work, endure the long hours, go home, eat, go back to sleep.
It's not a life. It's not living. It's existing.
Sometimes he wondered about the point of it all. Then his eyes would light on the single photo on his desk, his finger would trace the faded wooden frame and he'd stare into those huge, beautiful blue eyes... and he'd remember.
He'd remember why he was there. What he was fighting for.
Not what. Whom.
Sandrine.
"Sergeant Blaze! We've got one!"
Blaze looked up as Andy burst into the room, his eyes alive with excitement. "You've got what?"
"A member of the Resistance!"
"Alive?" Blaze asked.
"Affirmative. Alive and... muddy."
Blaze fought hard to suppress a shudder. It was what he dreaded most—a live prisoner to 'interrogate'. It didn't happen often, but as far as he was concerned, once was often enough. He squared his shoulders and swallowed hard, careful to keep his expression neutral. "Put up a fight, did he?"
"She, sir. She's a she."
Fuck.
It was his biggest nightmare come true. A woman. Those fucking Resistance bastards; didn't they have any men brave enough to send out? Did they have to resort to sending out a damn girl?
For the briefest of seconds, Blaze considered telling Andy to let the prisoner go. No, to go and fuck himself. Fuck Andy, fuck the militia, fuck the Saxian party.
Then he saw those blue, blue eyes peering out at him from the faded photograph.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Like he had a choice.
He spoke deliberately, carefully. "Where is she now?"
"Being prepared, sir."
Blaze raised an eyebrow. "Prepared?"
"Well, she was covered in mud, so the boys thought they might clean her up a bit before sending you in to see her. And…" Andy had the grace to avert his gaze, "well, they thought they might have a little fun in the—"
Blaze pounded his fist on the desk so hard the glass jumped in the picture frame and his untouched black coffee sloshed over the side of the mug. "No!" he barked.
"S-sir?" Andy's eyes were wide as he stared at his sergeant.
Blaze was a deeply disciplined man, but it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to pull himself back from the brink of his fury. "No," he repeated, with as much calm as he could muster. "Get back there at once and tell them they are to clean her up and take her to the back room to wait for me. Nothing else."
"It..." Andy paused. "It might be too late—"
"Then fucking hurry up!" Blaze roared, sending the young man scurrying out of his office and down the corridor.
As soon as he was alone, Blaze rubbed his face, forcing himself to take several deep breaths.
A fucking woman. I can't do it.
Sinking back down into his chair, he closed his eyes, cursing the hand fate had dealt him. To be born into this... this clusterfuck of a society.
Into a world where the population had no liberty, no justice; where they were little more than slaves, under constant surveillance and threat of punishment, where food was scarce and smiles were non-existent. Where physical violence and brainwashing were the order of the day. Where a dictatorship was barely disguised as a democracy, and those who refused to abide by the rules were summarily executed.
Two miles. If I'd just been born two miles further south. In Vraya.
There, everything was different. Blaze wasn't foolish enough to believe the whispered tales that milk and honey flowed freely in the streets but he knew that, compared to Saxo, Vraya truly was paradise. There, the government was just, the people had liberties Saxians could only dream of, and even though they had just as little food to go around, it was distributed more fairly.
Not for the first time, Blaze wished things were different, but regret wouldn't change anything. Words meant nothing; he'd sat through enough 'party announcements' to know that. Empty promises and veiled threats from the Saxo government. Appalling to think that so many Saxians still believed the bullshit; still thought that things would change… that if they behaved and did as they were told, they would be rewarded.
Blaze almost snorted with derision. He knew better. And so did the woman waiting for him. If she really was a Resistance member, she was one hell of a lot braver than most people he knew. And she would suffer a helluva a lot more.
Praying that his buffoon team had got it wrong; that she'd simply got lost and could be sent home with a warn
ing, he rolled his shoulders and stood up.
Time to go and find out.
God help him.
* * *
Lena huddled in the corner of the cell, shivering uncontrollably, whether from cold or terror, she wasn't sure.
As soon as she'd been hauled into the militia base, the men who'd captured her had dragged her into a shower block, sneering and making lewd remarks about her body as they tore her clothing off. Stoically ignoring them, she'd raised her chin and done her best not to show her fear. As they began to go through her pockets, she breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief that she'd at least had the presence of mind to throw away the camera. If they'd found that, she wouldn't stand a chance.
"Look at those pert little titties," one of them had said gruffly, poking her nipple with a thin, tapered finger. "Little slut's begging for it, aren't you?"
Lena had merely pushed her shoulders back and fixed her gaze on a cracked tile somewhere behind the bastard.
"Answer me when I'm talking to you!" the man had said, giving her nipple a savage pinch.
"She's a cute little thing," another said, unwittingly saving her from having to reply. "Bet she'll be even cuter once she's had a good wash. Turn the shower on."
The icy blast of water had raised goosebumps over every square millimeter of her skin, sluicing away the mud and dust and pummeling her flesh.
"Don't forget her pretty little face," someone said, and the jet was directed straight at her head until Lena was gasping for breath.
Still, they couldn't make her talk. No matter what they did. She kept hearing Gregory's voice in her ears, repeating it over and over again like a mantra; if they catch you, talking won't save you—but not talking will save us. She forced herself to remain still, resisting the urge to punch one of them, to raise her hands to protect her eyes from the pounding, frigid water.
"That's right, lads, get her nice and squeaky clean. I don't want to fuck some muddy bitch," the first man said with a guffaw. "Told you she'd clean up good. Look at that mouth… I know just what I want to do with it."
