by Opal Carew
“Yes.”
“And you decided to check in on me again before you left?”
“I couldn’t leave without trying one more time to convince you to come back with me.”
She leaned down and smiled at the little cat. “Hey, there, fella. You’re now officially my new best friend.”
Terrien laughed as he opened the cage and let the cat out. It prowled around the small spaceship, exploring everything with great interest. Terrien sat in the pilot’s chair, and Crystal sat in the chair beside him. As Terrien put the ship in motion, the cat leaped onto Crystal’s lap. She stroked its little head, then along its sleek, furry body. It purred loudly.
Crystal laughed, loving the soothing sound and the warm fuzzy feeling it gave her. Maybe having a cat wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She glanced over at Terrien, who piloted the ship with a wide smile on his face.
After all, the choice to welcome a man into her life had been a satisfying one.
Her heart pounded as she realized she’d finally accepted that Terrien was her soul-mate. The man she would spend the rest of her life with. She almost felt faint, but not from trepidation, as she’d feared after making this irrevocable decision. Instead, joy swelled through her.
Because she knew, to the core of her being, that she had made the right choice. Because she had chosen love.
About the Author
Opal Carew writes erotic romance. She was named “Fresh Face of Erotic Fiction 2009” and her books have won the Award of Excellence and the Golden Leaf Award, and been finalists for the National Readers’ Choice Award, HOLT Medallion, Laurel Wreath Award, and Passionate Plume Award.
Opal loves crystals, dragons, feathers, cats, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent fifteen years as a software analyst before turning to her passions as a writer. She lives in Canada with her husband, two sons and two cats.
To learn more about Opal, visit her website at www.OpalCarew.com, or contact her at [email protected].
Look for these titles by Opal Carew
Now Available:
Celestial Soul-Mates
The King and I
The Commander’s Woman
Attraction is easy. Trust is like reaching for the stars
The Commander’s Woman
© 2011 Opal Carew
Celestial Soul-Mates, Book 2
Eva’s anticipation of a free Bona Vista Resort getaway is as sweet as the welcome mixer cocktail in her hand. When she steps aboard a VIP elevator, though, she ends up a whole lot farther away than expected. An alien spaceship, loaded with twosomes, threesomes—and more—having lusty sex at the drop of a zipper.
Worse, they’re trying to sell her on the idea that the mouthwateringly hot first officer is her soul-mate. While Commander Larson Raa-ling makes her knees weak, she’s not buying. In her experience, men want only one thing from women, and it’s not everlasting love.
Larson easily senses his soul-mate’s desire for him, but it’s trapped inside her lovely body like a caged bird. Only patience will win her trust. Every time his touch draws her one step forward, though, she withdraws two steps back.
Eva tries desperately to remember her vow to never again surrender control. But as Larson chips away at her defenses one sensual pebble at a time, her resistance is crumbling by the second…
Warning: The author is not responsible for heart palpitations brought on by anticipation, suspense and smoking-hot sex. These aliens have talents that fit every woman’s needs—literally. ’Nuff said.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Commander’s Woman:
Larson gazed at this woman he’d never met before, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with, the woman he’d longed for with a demanding ache that would not relent. He needed her with a desperation that overruled everything else.
He loved her.
He took a step forward, and she took a step back. He stepped forward again, and she backed up until the wall thumped against her back. Although she seemed intent on resisting her attraction to him, that attraction was quite evident. Her nipples hardened to tight beads, thrusting against the thin fabric of her black dress. Peaking toward him. He longed to slide the black fabric aside and brush his fingertips over them, then run his tongue around the rigid buds and the pebbling flesh surrounding them.
He curled his fingers tightly into his palms, knowing he had to control himself. He had to fight the desperate need to throw her onto their bed and drive into her. To make her his immediately. His cock throbbed with the need as it strained against his trousers.
As he stood mere inches from her, chaining in the desperate ache pummeling through him, he knew he had to touch her silky skin. He raised his hand and stroked her cheek lightly. The feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips sent his nerve endings dancing and heat shuddering through him.
“Do you know how long I’ve yearned to touch you?”
“You don’t even know me.” The words trembled from her lips.
He knew she would resist. She had been torn from her world and thrown into an unknown environment. She had lost all control of her destiny, or so she believed. This would not be easy for her. His heart ached at her pain. He would make it as easy on her as he could. If only he could make her understand how much he loved her. If she let go of her fears, she would see how much she loved him too.
He stroked the line of her jaw.
“I know you. More than I’ve ever known anyone before. Our hearts and our souls are linked.”
He wanted to nuzzle her neck and breathe in the delicate scent of her. His fingers forked through her hair and curled around the back of her head. Her lips trembled as he leaned toward her. What he wanted even more was to feel those delicate lips beneath his. He hovered within an inch of her mouth.
Her eyes widened, and she stiffened. Shock prodded him as he realized she was afraid. Of him. His gut clenched.
He eased away, then smiled warmly, hoping to reassure her.
“I am sorry,” he murmured. “I could hardly contain myself. I have ached for you for so long.”
Eva stared at him, relieved he’d backed off a little. As soon as his fingertips had brushed her cheek, she’d wanted to push his hand away and shoot across the room, far out of reach, but the allure of his touch had mesmerized her. When his lips had hovered so close to hers, she’d felt as if she’d die if he did not kiss her.
And that’s when blinding fear had consumed her.
“I won’t have sex with you,” she blurted.
“I know, my love.” A sadness tinged his turquoise eyes.
“Don’t call me that, Commander.”
“To you I am not Commander. I am simply Larson. I am your tanash’ae.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
“I don’t believe that.”
“It is true nevertheless.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Her pulse drummed loudly in her ears. She dearly wanted to put distance between them, but was afraid to push past him. A memory shot through her…of Roger grabbing her wrist, then viciously twisting it until she crumpled beneath him…of being helpless to his will.
“Are you going to take me to my quarters?” she demanded, keeping her voice strong and steady.
“These are your quarters. And mine.”
“Yours? But—”
“Don’t worry, laiya. You have your own bedroom.”
Laiya. The way the word slid off his tongue like silk sent goose bumps tingling across her skin. Clearly, it was an endearment of some kind.
“I don’t want to stay here. I want you to send me and my friends home.”
“I can’t do that, but we don’t have to stay here right now. I’d like to take you somewhere we can have a drink and get to know each other.”
They have bars on starships?
He took her hand and led her to the door. As they walked along the familiar cor
ridor, she tugged her hand free, so he lightly grasped her elbow.
“It’s near shift change. The perfect time,” he said.
He drew her into an elevator of sorts, but its movement seemed horizontal rather than vertical. After a five minute ride, they exited, turned a few corners, then entered a large room with round tables and chairs, like some kind of restaurant or club. The light was softer than the office-level lighting of the corridors. A handful of people sat at different tables, most staring at what looked like small, portable DVD players. From the quick glance she got as Larson led her to a table, some had text and some video.
This must be some kind of lounge where the crew came to relax. Commander Raa-ling had mentioned something about a shift change.
“This is the red room,” he explained as they sat. “Would you like a drink?”
“Wine.” She needed something stronger than water.
He smiled and stood.
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to run away?” she couldn’t help asking.
He shrugged. “Where would you go?”
She sighed. She’d been wondering the same thing.
He returned in a moment with a slender, purple bottle and two tall, slim glasses. He poured clear liquid into the glasses and handed one to her. She sipped it. At first, it seemed totally tasteless; then her taste buds blossomed with a delicate, dry, fruity flavor that delighted her senses.
A few moments later, a woman entered the room, followed by a man, both in uniform. Instead of sitting at one of the tables, they moved to a large alcove recessed in the wall near Eva and Larson. They nodded to Larson and smiled at Eva.
The horizontal surface started about two and a half feet above the floor and extended about seven feet wide and several feet into the wall, with a plush surface and filled with cozy-looking cushions. The two newcomers sat, and Eva realized the floor of the alcove was padded. Was this a place for crew members to take a nap between shifts or while on a break?
“Do you want to wait for Kairo?” the man asked his companion.
“I only have twenty minutes. We’ll have to start without him.”
Commander Raa-ling leaned toward her. “The woman is Adeira, and her partner is Jano.”
Adeira stripped off her uniform jacket, then, to Eva’s complete horror, began to unfasten her shirt buttons.
Four people. One rope. Desire plunged into dangerous obsession.
Dark Empress
© 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod
Onic Empire, Book 5
Errion Ald’Areed senses that his business partner’s passion for designing pleasure upgrades for service robots has cooled, but nothing he’s tried—men, women, exotic adventures—has lifted Lorren D’Buren’s ennui. Until he sees the look in Lorren’s eyes when the intergalactic ambassador from Diola crosses their path at a charity ball.
Under the watchful eye of Gabriyel, her faithful bodyguard, Farjika is determined to live down her empress mother’s scandalous reputation for taking multiple lovers. Her instant attraction to Lorren, though, tempts her to cross her self-imposed bounds of propriety. And Gabriyel is shocked that his level-headed mistress has fallen so easily into a torrid affair.
At first Errion is pleased that Farjika has roused Lorren out of his funk. When he notices the depth of the mutual fascination, though, he realizes he must act quickly—or lose his sometime lover and best friend.
His plan to eliminate the threat is perfect in its beautiful complexity. Until one snag in his delicate web of seduction plunges them all into a potentially deadly tangle with no way out…
Warning: Contains humor, masturbatory robots, mystical BDSM, stern punishments and more variations on m/m/m/f than the author can count. Sex toys are not included with purchase but are strongly recommended.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Dark Empress:
“Tell me, my lovely one, what do you hope to accomplish here on Avalith?” Errion knew the question was a light one. Any visitor would have a stock answer ready to spew out to satisfy any who asked, yet Farjika actually considered his question.
Lifting her gaze to capture his, she softly informed him, “My world is isolated. We have been so for many hundreds of thousands of seasons. I hope by coming here, to Avalith, and donating a large portion of funds, to show the galactic community that we are concerned with our brethren. That we wish to break free from our self-imposed seclusion.”
Errion wanted to capture her mouth, cutting off her words long before she could finish speaking them. Not only was she utterly lovely, but she was kind and sweet. Worse, she had a conscience. She wasn’t just repeating words she’d been told to say, she honestly believed in what she said. Red flashes of warning went off behind his eyes. This woman was dangerous. Farjika truly could sway Lorren from any path he might be on, and she could do it without much effort. Farjika was a woman who could steal a man’s soul without intention. Raylor’s bursting balls, but she’d effortlessly stolen Errion’s attention and yet seemed utterly unaware!
As he drew her into the main room, her gaze slid around, appreciating the paintings, sculptures, rugs and the furniture. She finally settled her gaze on Errion. “I am impressed by your estate. You clearly have a unique turn toward art.”
He nodded, offering her a drink, which she cupped lightly in her hand.
“How long will you stay on Avalith?”
She took a sip to give herself time to think of her answer, and he realized she honestly didn’t know. Her hesitation worried him. His gut told him her stay depended on what happened with Lorren.
“I find I am intrigued by your planet. I would like to stay and learn more about your culture even after my official visit has come to a close.”
As she spoke, he noticed she kept taking surreptitious glances at one sculpture in particular. He had to work hard to suppress a lusty grin.
“Where are you staying?” Casually, he maneuvered himself across the room until he was standing near the life-sized rendering of an intricately bound woman. Between her parted legs, a man thrust deeply into her. The woman’s head was bowed in submission; however, her face was still visible as her hair was drawn away. The man’s head was flung back in ecstasy, his lips peeling away from his teeth with an artfully captured snarl of possession.
“I am staying in my skip.” When he tilted his head, she offered, “A small planet-safe ship while my larger spacecraft remains in orbit.” She took another sip of her drink that turned into more of a gulp when she drew her eyes away from him and the erotic rendering. “Master D’Buren graciously offered one of his fallow fields to station the craft.”
“Lorren’s father is always so generous with visiting dignitaries.” Usually so he could finagle an exclusive marketing contract for his robotic servants. Wouldn’t he be surprised when he realized Diola had no desire for mechanization? “Is something wrong?”
Darting her gaze to the entwined figures, then away, she whispered, “Are all of your statues so explicit?”
Errion laughed.
Her head stayed low as her gazed traveled up. She seemed unsure if he were laughing at her or at what she’d said.
“Explicit?” He chuckled as he slapped his hand to the man’s muscular ass. “He’s fucking her as she wishes.”
Eyes widening at the vulgarity, Farjika cupped the fragile glass, which trembled in her hand. He could tell she struggled with the idea of whether she should say something or not. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. Darting her gaze around to ensure they were alone, she asked, “If she wants him, then why is she bound?”
The woman’s arms were artfully tied behind her back, and she used them to leverage herself up. Her legs embraced the man who had his head back in the throes of release.
Lowering his gaze, pinning her where she stood, Errion murmured, “She is bound because she finds pleasure in giving control to the man.” Softly, he asked, “Haven’t you ever let a lover tie you up?”
Farjika’s gaze met his, her pupils dilating. In tha
t moment, he saw the hunger in her eyes. A dark hunger for something that Lorren would never give her but Errion could.
Before she could answer, he deftly removed his jacket, tossing it casually on a nearby chair. “I would think a future empress would be well schooled in the art of lust.” He turned, giving her an excellent view of his bulging trousers. Pleasure rippled across his tense muscles when she looked down then quickly away. Slowly and deliberately, he looked at her chest, making sure she saw him looking. He noticed her nipples pressed tightly against the fabric, twin bits of tightened flesh. “I understand that on Diola, sex is practically your religion.”
“That is not true.” She frowned at what he’d said. Her displeasure deepened when she noticed the way he was looking at her. Setting her drink upon the closest table, she said, “Sadly, many seem to think that it is, but I assure you—”
“How did it feel when he slid his tongue into you?”
Caught off guard by the question, she sputtered in shock, then turned her gaze around the room again. “Where is Lorren?”
Running his finger down the rope that bound the woman’s breasts, he murmured, “He’s a little tied up at the moment.”
He could tell that Farjika was trying to determine if he were being literal or not.
“I think I should go.” Her skirt flared around her legs as she spun toward the door.
“Without a word to Lorren? That’s hardly courteous behavior,” he scoffed, continuing to stroke the rope that trailed down the woman’s torso. The metal felt cool below the heat of his hand. “Especially after all the trouble he went to for you.”
She stopped in midstride, apparently thinking over what she should do. He’d hit his mark well; she did not wish to appear ungracious or rude, not to the object of her affection.
Frankly, he didn’t mind getting another look at the back of her dress and her hair, which was startlingly similar to the rope on the statue. Farjika would look exquisite bound, and binding would only heighten her awareness of her body. Already he could picture how he would drape the silk rope around her frame using various lengths of crimson cord that would highlight the color of her skin. Deliberately, he would place the knots to give her the greatest pleasure. To have her bound and at his mercy was such a heady prospect, he couldn’t stop thinking of the ways he could pose her. Of course, if he acted on his cravings, Lorren would kill him.
