MILITARY ROMANCE: The War Within Himself (Alpha Bad Boy Marine Army Seal) (Contemporary Military Suspense & Thriller Romance)

by Claire Branson

  "There is so much I want to do to you," he said, voice low, with a growl along its edges. Lily shuddered with the sound of it, the way it crawled down her spine and settled hot in the pit of her stomach. "The question is where to begin."

  He was up and across the room with a fluid motion, going through a chest that sat in one corner, its wood burnished gold in the flickering light of the candles and the fireplace. When he turned, he was holding a riding crop in his hand. Lily had never seen one in person, but she recognized it well enough from movies, and her stomach tightened.

  "It does not have to hurt," he said as he settled back on the bed.

  The leather tag at the tip of it was soft as it ran up the inside of her leg, just light enough to almost tickle. At the apex of her thighs he turned it, ran it back down the inside of her other leg, then back up the outside, over her belly, up along her side to trace the length of each arm while she whimpered and shifted under the teasing touch. Oh god, she wanted more. Wanted his hands on her. Wanted him inside her.

  "Do you?" he purred when she spoke the words aloud, looking down at her with a predatory light in his eyes. He seemed to consider the request, dark head tipping slightly to one side. His smile widened. "I think not. You will just have to wait."

  The end of the crop flicked against her nipple, not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it drew up tighter, so that when he rubbed it over and over with the crop in slow, firm circles, she arched in her bonds and tipped her hips up in silent pleading. Damien didn't seem inclined to answer this plea either. He laughed a little, not as though he was laughing at her. More as though he was simply pleased with the result of his play. He flicked the crop against her other nipple, traced the same circles over and around it until she begged aloud again.

  "Please. Damien. Please."

  He smiled.

  "I would like it if you called me Sir, I think," he said, in a tone that didn't allow room for argument.

  Lily moaned softly, the words affecting her more than she would have expected them to. "Sir," she said, low and pleading. "Please, Sir."

  That, she could see, had affected him. He groaned, and one of his hands reached down as though he could not help himself but touch her, ran firm along her thigh and back down again, nails catching against the skin just enough to leave faint, burning lines behind to match the ones left on her other thigh.

  The crop came down over the marks with a stinging slap, and Lily jumped. The pain of it faded almost as soon as it had landed, and Damien's cold fingers moving over it soothed the slight lingering burn.

  "If you want another, ask for it."

  Did she want another? Lily looked up into Damien's blue eyes. He wanted her to want another. She could see it in his expression. But he wouldn't push her. And it was clever, she thought a little distantly, to do it that way. To give her the chance to back out easily, still in command. Yes, she decided. She wanted another. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, and she saw his eyes follow the motion.

  "Yes, Sir. Please. Another."

  "Good girl."

  The words made warmth bloom behind her ribs, made her gasp, and then the crop came down again, a burning line just below the first, a little harder than the last slap had been, and she caught her breath behind her teeth.

  "Oh. Fuck. Another. Please, Sir."

  His smile was wicked, pleased even, and Lily felt her whole body flush with warm pleasure at the knowledge that she had made him happy. And, oh. That was a little bit of a surprise. But it made sense, didn't it?

  The crop smacked against the opposite hip, and she lost her train of thought, lost the thread of analysis. But that was okay, because there would be time for that later. Right now there was Damien, and the crop, and the insistent heat between her thighs.

  "Another, Sir. Please."

  "So very brave," he purred. "So very good. You must watch yourself, Lily." The crop hit her thigh again. "I will never want to let you go."

  "Please, Sir. Another."

  It was five, she thought. Or six. She wasn't keeping very good track. But there was another lash of the crop, and another, always over the fleshy part of her thigh, the outer curve of her buttock, always when she asked for it. When she pleaded for another, it came down on her inner thigh, and Lily moaned, tears springing a little unexpectedly to her eyes. That had hurt more than the others, but she asked again, and again it landed, this time on the opposite side, over the same sensitive skin. Lily jumped with the sting, then lay against the mattress, panting. Trying to catch her breath. Deciding if she wanted another.

  Damien decided for her. He laid the crop aside, and traced the faint marks it had left with his fingers, his tongue, chilling them, chasing away the sting. Between kisses and licks he murmured that she was good, that she was beautiful. That she tasted so sweet. His mouth was on her inner thigh, soothing the last of the stinging lines left behind by the crop, and then he was moving up, and she was curling her fingers around the ropes that held her in place and pleading for the touch to go higher, to go where she needed it. For a moment he didn't answer, just pressed kisses to her thighs as high up as he could without ever touching her where she wanted him the most.

  "Yes," he said finally, and Lily nearly sobbed with gratitude. "I think you have earned it."

  One last flash of that grin in the candlelight, and then his mouth was on her, his tongue sliding between her folds, slow as though he had all the time he could possibly desire, as though he was simply enjoying himself. He flicked the tip of it over her clit, and Lily tossed her head against the mattress, whimpering. Cool, long-fingered hands curled around her thighs, holding her open though the bonds already did, holding her still as he teased, tracing lines she couldn't follow over her clit, down along her folds to where she was wet and wanting and empty. He drew circles around her opening with the tip of his tongue until she was begging in words that stumbled over each other. "Please," and "Sir," and "Need." Then, finally, he slid his tongue inside her, giving her something, not enough but so good, and she was sobbing his name, and Sir, and she couldn't seem to remember other words. Her fingers were still curled around the ropes, holding until her knuckles were sore with the tight clutch.

  When he pulled back, she whimpered, but he didn't give in again, just looked down at her as he unfastened his pants and slid them off with an easy, lithe grace. They were gone in an instant, and he was stretched out over her, his arms holding his weight off her body, the head of his length pressed against her, but not yet sliding inside, not yet filling her.

  "Tell me what you want."

  "You," she answered. "You. Please, Sir. Damien. Please."

  He shifted his hips so that he rubbed over her clit, then back down again, a slow drag that made her writhe under him. His smile was smug. "Ask me again."

  "Please," she sobbed obediently, wanting. Needing. "Please, Sir. Want you inside me. Need you to take me and fill me up. Please. Please."

  He growled the way he had against her throat, and one of his hands tangled in her hair, tipping her head back for a kiss that was more like being devoured than being kissed, her lips bruising against his. She pulled at the ties that held her wrists, wanting to reach up and touch him in return, her body arching as he began to—slowly, slowly—slide into her, deliberately teasing her, making her feel every inch of him. Lily was caught between him and his bindings, a shaking arch, her eyes closed and her lips parted even as he pulled back to allow her to breath. Her breath came fast and uneven. She could feel her heart beating against her ribs, but couldn't feel the beat of his, and for a moment she was distracted by its absence. Then he slid over that place inside her that made her whole body shudder and tighten, and she forgot everything but that.

  He wasn't moving. She wanted him to move. Needed him to move. But when she pled with him he ran his fingers tenderly through her hair and still didn't move—and it was so cruel to tease like that. He laughed. She must have said the words aloud.

  "What do you say?" he asked, cool voice st
ill completely in control. "When I give you what you want?"

  "Thank you," Lily gasped. "Oh. Fuck. Thank you, Sir."

  She was rewarded with a deeper thrust, a deliberate slow stroke over her g-spot that drew a moan from her throat. Damien's fingers tightened in her hair until it was almost painful, and he nipped at her lower lip, licking over the minute puncture wounds with his tongue until they didn't hurt anymore.

  "Please," Lily breathed. "More."

  For once, he didn't tease. He picked up a rhythm that went hard and deep and slow, and Lily was quickly beyond words, rocking to meet him as much as she could move with her wrists and ankles still tied. He, of course, was not out of breath, didn't breath, but Lily heard the small sounds he made, low and rough, and they sent little sparks of pleasure through her veins. She had always liked to know that her lovers were pleased, were enjoying her. She wasn't going to last long, not after his teasing, his mouth. When his fingers pulled out of her hair and slid down instead so that he could rub her clit with his thumb, she gasped, spine pulling into an arch, legs trying to close, trying to open wider. Her thighs trembled.

  He stopped touching her. Slowed until she sobbed with frustration.

  "Please," she managed, dredging up the word from someone. "Fuck. Please. Don't tease me anymore, Sir."

  "Tell me what you want."

  "Let me come," Lily answered. "Please. I can't—" There were more words but she didn't remember them. "Please, Sir. Please." The last word was a sob.

  His thumb pressed down against her clit, and he thrust in hard, and then again, and she was coming, falling over the edge of ecstasy with her body shaking beneath him. He didn't stop though, even when she was panting and shuddering with the aftershock. His thumb kept rubbing, and he was still fucking her, still moving the way she had begged him too. Lily bucked under him, pulling at the ties that held her, but there was no way to slip away, and the over-sharp pleasure was pushing her onward again, too much too soon, but so good. And so she sank against the mattress, moaning, and let him have his way, let him take her through another orgasm. Colored lights bloomed behind her eyelids. The pleasure was sharp as his bite. Through it, she felt him follow her, felt him still and shudder, his forehead against the curve of her shoulder. She drifted in the content haze that followed, distant and a little dizzy with it all. For a long moment they both lay like that, still and silent in each other's arms. Lily's breathing slowed. Her heart beat a little quieter in her chest.

  Chapter Five

  When Damien moved, it was to untie her. He pulled out carefully, kissing her when she hissed softly at the sensation. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they unfastened the knots that had held her in place, checked over her wrists and ankles. He stretched out alongside her then, and Lily opened her eyes to look up at him. Everything was still soft around the edges. Still warm and bright and good.

  Damien smiled down at her, reaching up to run his fingers through her tousled hair.

  "You pleased me very much, Lily."

  She dropped her gaze, but looked up again through her eyelashes, suddenly shy. What they had done was outside her realm of experience. And it had been good. It had been amazing. But her footing felt suddenly uncertain. Damien's fingers were still sliding through her hair, and she tilted into the touch with a sigh. She felt a little better, then. A little less like she had done something really monumentally stupid.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked, as though he knew.

  "Good," she said, a little unsteady, trying to find the words. "I mean. It was the hottest thing I've ever done, I think. I just... It was kind of crazy, doing it the way we did it, don't you think?"

  "No. It was what we wanted. And what's wrong with that?" His fingers in her hair tugged gently, coaxing her to look up at him. "I wanted you in my bed, and you wanted to be there. And so it happened. And I, personally, would very much like to do it again."

  Lily stared at him for a long moment, and then laughter bubbled up in her throat, and she was smiling. "Yeah," she admitted softly. "I'd like to do it again too, actually. Even if it is crazy."

  "Then it wasn't crazy."

  "Technically, it was super crazy," Lily said. "I mean, you're a vampire. I broke into your house, and then I had sex with you, and there was a riding crop involved."

  His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. He failed. "When you put it that way…"

  "Oh my god. My uncle. And Fred. I completely forgot about them."

  Damien briefly looked as though he didn't know who she was talking about. "Oh," he said then. "The men who came with you." He waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure they're fine."

  "Except they're probably out marshalling the entire police force to come find me." She scrambled for her jeans, found her phone in the pocket with ten missed calls and three missed messages. "Fuck."

  "For such a pretty woman," Damien said behind her, his tone teasing, "You have an exceedingly dirty mouth. I think next time we will do something about that."

  He was wrapped around her then, taking the phone from her unresisting fingers and dropping it back on top of the pile of her clothes.

  "I'm not concerned about the police. I'm sure you can come up with something to tell your uncle when you leave." He gathered her up in his arms and lifted her back onto the bed. "For the moment, however, you are staying here with me."

  Lily looked up into his blue, blue eyes, and smiled. "Is that an order, Sir?" Her tone was teasing, but when he growled low in his throat and rolled them so that she lay beneath him once more, looking up at him with her hair spilled out around her, a shudder ran down her spine.

  "Yes," he said. "It is."

  His fingers traced the bruising marks on her thighs where he had held her while he'd gone down on her, waking a faint ache in their path, and when he looked up at her, his smile had a wicked edge. His hands closed around her wrists, lifted them over her head. Lily looked up at him, breathless with new anticipation. His smile only widened.

  "Now be still," he said. "I have plans for you before the dawn comes."

  THE END

  The Alpha Lion that Loves me

  A Lion Shifter Romance

  The Alpha Lion that Loves me

  Chapter One

  Northern California

  Cassie

  “Did you hear the news?” Jessica asked, her eyes bright in the dark laboratory, much like the bioluminescent cells Cassie was studying. “They’ve brought in a white lion.”

  Normally, Cassie Judd paid little attention to what Jessica considered news – usually unpleasant gossip from around the zoo where they both worked as research scientists – but this time, Jessica earned her full attention. In shock, Cassie stepped away from the lab table.

  “What do you mean they’ve brought in a white lion? You can’t just bring in a creature like that out of nowhere. There’s paperwork and preparations that have to be made–”

  “I don’t know,” Jessica said, cutting her off. “The deal was done last night. It’s a surprise to everyone. They’re loading him into his den now.”

  Intrigued, Cassie hurried out of the lab, giving Jessica her freedom to continue spreading the word. As she rounded the familiar paths, bypassing the aquarium and the gorilla enclosure, she removed her lab coat from her curvy frame and pulled loose her pony tail, allowing her glossy mahogany hair to pour down her voluptuous back. She wanted to appear more casual. If she called attention to herself as a scientist, she’d be inundated with questions about the animals at the zoo. Right now, her only focus was the white lion. She had read about the rare genetic mutation that made a small number of African lions so pale, and the superstitions surrounding them, but she had never seen a white lion up close.

  That changed as soon as she turned into the lion’s den, a sheltered area behind the public enclosure. Behind the gate was a magnificent creature with strong, bulky muscles, a mane thicker than most male lions, and alarming grey-green eyes that stood out against his snowy coat. His eyes captivated he
r, much more than the novelty of his color. As he paced in his cage, those eyes spoke of a sadness. Cassie believed animals capable of emotion, but the depth of his sadness unnerved her. It was unnatural. And heartbreaking.

  Briefly, the lion stopped pacing and looked at her. Something within her, something primal, told her it was not out of curiosity, but with intent, as if he were trying to communicate something to her.

  “Where did he come from?” she asked the zookeeper handling the lion’s arrival – an older man who had worked at the zoo for most his life. At twenty-four and only starting her career, she had a lot of respect for the man.

  “Don’t know,” the man answered, rubbing the sweat from his forehead. In the dead heat of the summer, the lion’s den was sweltering. “Got a call from the director this morning to say a new lion was on its way. Something about an emergency transfer. I was to move the other lions outside and prepare the den for this one. Never imagined he’d be a white lion. He seems like a pretty tamed fella, but there’s something about him that seems... odd.”

  Cassie nodded her head. She couldn’t agree more. Tenderly, she put her hands against the metal gate that separated her from the beast. “What have they done to you?” she asked.

  ***

  In the aquarium, Cassie tried to focus on the bioluminescent jellyfish, which looked like an infestation of tiny parachutes floating in the giant floor-to-ceiling tank, but her mind kept wandering back to the new lion.

  Out of fear he wouldn’t interact well with the other lions, he’d been given his own enclosure. The public was delighted, fawning over him like bees to honey. The gift shop sold out of white lion plush toys his first day out of his den. He was the star of the zoo. But to Cassie, his newfound celebrity made his situation all the sadder.