His feet moved, stepping closer and closer to her. She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Instead she focused on his scuffed, leather work boots. He didn’t stop until his thighs touched her knees. His muscles rippled beneath his jeans as he took on a relaxed stance.
“Look at me.”
She shivered and shook her head, allowing her long hair to fall forward and cover her face. Taking a deep breath, Nikki let her gaze wander up from where their legs touched and got caught on the way by the massive bulge just beneath his zipper. Swallowing was hard and her lips were suddenly dry.
“Look at me,” he commanded her again.
“I am.” Her words were whisper soft as she fixated on his cock and imagined what it would look like if she unzipped him and let it out.
“My face, sweetheart.” He tilted her chin up with one long finger until her eyes met his. “As much as I’d love for you to get to know me that way, this isn’t the time or place.”
The cocky bastard was smiling. His brown eyes, yellowed with intensity, were crinkled at the corners and she got lost in their depths. Just below one eye was a hint of a forming bruise. Her heart lurched. Somehow he’d been hurt. His thumb came up to stroke her chin, making her completely forget everything except what his touch did to her.
“You’re beautiful, sexy, smart, and I can’t wait to bury myself inside your soft little pussy.”
Nikki gasped. She squeezed her legs together and tried to stave off the impulses spiraling through her because of his words. He could not have just said that. Could he?
“Yes, I did, and we will. At home, where I can lock you away until I have uncovered every inch of your delectable body.” Her heart pounded against her chest wall, her clit throbbing right along with it. “And then I’m going to taste everything I’ve just discovered.”
“Oh my God.” The starchy hospital gown rasped her nipples, making her moan and squirm.
“Now, get off that bed and get dressed so we can get the hell out of here.”
What’s a girl to do when she can’t change into the family wolf and Mr. Beast kidnaps her man? Take the evil on and kick some ass—with or without a furry coat.
The Beast Within
© 2006 Kelly Ethan
Cassidy Quinn, Private Investigator extraordinaire, helps down and dirty humans and monsters of Memorial City…for a price. But when a friend phones with a puzzling medical case, Cassidy knows the big bad has come to town—in the form of a rogue Werewolf out for blood. Making herself known to the new evil, she fights against his web of deceit and lies, battling to save her friends, family and sexy police detective Patrick Logan.
One problem—the beast has targeted Cassidy for his mate and he has the upper fang since she’s stuck in human form. When Cassidy finds Logan an all too seductive distraction, the beast’s anger explodes and Logan is kidnapped by the werewolf.
Can Cassidy find Logan before it’s too late and he becomes the main course?
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Beast Within:
There was pain and misery in the room, as well as an intense feeling of dread from whoever was in there. She took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s go.” As she entered the room, Cassidy mentally reached toward the bandaged figure on the bed. The pungent, gagging odor of pain and terror that beat at her was overlaid with the sharp, metallic tang of blood. The impression of a shadowy figure pleased with its handiwork jumped out at her. Peering further into the room, all Cassidy made out was a crumpled form covered in bloodstained white gauze. The figure twitched and yelled at them.
“No, no, stay away. No closer. You stink. Can’t you hear the pounding, too? It won’t go away. Make it stop.”
“Stay here, Maya.” Cassidy inched toward the man and watched while he cringed back into the bed. She saw his wizened face, aged prematurely beyond his years, dirty brown hair liberally dashed with streaks of pure white. Shock and trauma had aged this man and encroached on his life. Cassidy angled toward him and sniffed.
Someone else’s marker was on him. One unlike any other. It was not quite right, the tang of a predator, but twisted. Her stomach tightened with nerves as a feeling of distrust grew in her. She clenched her hands, joints protesting, her nails cutting into her palms before she forced herself to relax her taut fingers. Gaze narrowed, Cassidy inched closer and bent to pry open his shut eyelids. The figure screamed as he focused on her.
“For god’s sake, Cassidy, be careful.”
Cassidy crept backward and motioned for her to exit the room. They slipped down the hall and into a spare room. She closed the door, rested her forehead on it, and took a deep breath.
“Cassidy, what the hell is going on?”
“He was admitted with what looked to be deep lacerations to his chest, lower abdomen and his arms, right?” Cassidy turned and fully faced Maya. “He’s had a large amount of blood loss and seems hyper-reactive to light and has super sensitive ears and nose.”
“Yes. Do you know what happened to him?” Maya clenched her fists.
“The patient seems to showing signs of becoming a Were. But it’s not possible. Not possible at all.” Cassidy slammed her fist into the door and cracked the wood. “Oops. Sorry, Maya.” She looked at her un-bruised hand, it did pay to be part wolf sometimes.
Maya waved Cassidy’s concern over the door away, a frown on her face while she puzzled the problem. “You’re saying he’s a lycanthrope.”
“That’s the thing.” Cassidy turned toward the window. “It’s not possible. To be a Were, you have to inherit it through birth.”
“Maybe he did?”
“He couldn’t have. In one born a Were, the symptoms he’s showing usually happen when the cub is around five to eight years old. They can’t change until after.” Cassidy shook her head, confused at the contradicting evidence.
“The sensitivity to light and heightened other senses are all overwhelming. Cubs are taught how to cope and control the senses. This wouldn’t be happening now if he’d been born a lycanthrope.” Cassidy turned and started pacing. “The only other way is to perform a ritual or be cursed.”
Maya focused on Cassidy. “Okay, it’s the other way, but which is it? A ritual or a curse?”
“When did he start showing signs?” Cassidy stopped pacing and stared at her friend.
“He was admitted yesterday and started to show signs this morning.”
“That’s why it’s not possible. The ritual has to take place on a full moon, which was yesterday. If he’d been turned, the patient would have shown signs when he was first admitted. Maybe the guy was attacked by someone who had taken part.”
Maya sighed. “Well, what if it’s a curse? What do I do with him?”
Cassidy snorted. “Trust me. Curses don’t run on a timetable and there are usually conditions associated with it.” She strode toward the door and spoke over her shoulder as she went. “Look, I don’t think he’ll turn, but something weird is definitely going on. Isolate him and keep an eye out. It will take time for the symptoms to disappear.”
She grabbed the door handle and turned to look at Maya. “I’ll get back to you when I’ve worked out what the hell is going on. See you later.”
Cassidy marched out, gnawing away at the claw, which extended from her nail when she was angry or upset. Why now? Lycanthropes had only become accepted fifty years ago and mainly on the basis they weren’t contagious. If this became public knowledge, it could hurt them all.
They were tolerated now in society only because they’d had the foresight to place different members of the clans in strategic political, military and support services before they were outed by the random drug and medical tests.
Thank goddess they weren’t limited like the Weres in the old Hollywood movies. Natural born werewolves didn’t have to wait until a full moon to change. But they preferred the night, since it hid them better.
You couldn’t catch lycanthropy, but if you took part in a ritual or were cursed and something went wrong, technically
you could infect. However, the symptoms were temporary. There’d been hardly any episodes because the books detailing the rituals had been hidden. The last thing they needed was a spate of pseudo-Were killers. The balance between human and freaks was dodgy at best. And she didn’t want to be the one to upset the apple cart.
As she pushed through the door, Cassidy slammed into a hard wall of flesh. Flesh which carried the aroma of a tangy male and rocked only slightly from the impact.
“Hey, sorry about bashing you.” Cassidy stared into the face of a man who looked liked he’d been hewn from rock by a blunt instrument.
Brown hair with flecks of silver, grey eyes and a full-lipped mouth caught her attention. Whoopee, this one wasn’t a wimpy lawyer. Built like a brick wall, he looked like a rogue lover from a romance novel. But his natural perfume was like heaven and hell all rolled into one. A combination of the forest, sweat and gun oil. He smelled right and it made her think of settling down and having a family.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Talk about going off the deep end. Her mother would be glad to hear Cassidy was finally thinking about a man as a mate. However, she wasn’t ready to go there yet. Especially not with a human man who didn’t even know she was a freak.
“Maybe if you looked where you were going, you wouldn’t have to apologize.”
A velvety warm masculine voice rumbled at her from underneath her cheek and seemed to wrap around her like a cocoon. It took Cassidy a moment to realize the object of her lustful fantasy wasn’t exactly rolling around gasping her name in erotic abandon. In fact, he wasn’t even trying to be nice.
Cassidy sighed. “Oh well, another daydream bites the dust.”
“Did you hit your head? Do I need to take you back to the ward, ma’am?”
The brick wall stepped back in confusion.
Cassidy reared back and stared in disgusted disbelief at this man who was implying she’d escaped from the loony ward. Besides, how old did he think she was? Weres aged more slowly than normal humans did, but she wasn’t old enough to be called ma’am.
“No, I didn’t hit my head. Did you say ma’am? Do I look like I’m sixty years old to you?” Cassidy snarled at him. The brick wall took a step back and held his hands high to placate her.
“Hey, look I’m sorry, my mother taught me to respect women. If you don’t need any help, I have to get going.”
Cassidy glared at him and tried to ignore the heat pulsing through her veins. She watched as he tried to inch around her toward the doors. When he’d almost reached them, Cassidy smiled. “Isn’t it a shame when you have this wonderful image of a person and they spoil it by opening their mouth?”
The brick wall spun around with what sounded suspiciously liked a muffled curse. Cassidy made sure she’d already turned, and tried to waggle her behind in a sassy manner as she sauntered off. Cassidy swore she felt the scrumptious man’s gaze boring into her back. Take that, you arrogant mountain of a man. Payback’s a bitch isn’t it?
Can a powerless witch find happiness with an arrogant, impatient dragon? If the dragon has his way, she sure as hell will.
The Distressing Damsel
© 2006 Shelly Laurenston
Talaith's life has never been easy. A goddess has forced her into servitude. Her husband despises her. And all those in her tiny village fear her. But just when she doesn't think her life can get any worse, she's pulled from her bed one morning to be burned at the stake for being a witch. What she never counted on was a terrifying silver dragon deciding to rescue her.
Briec the Mighty didn't really know what to do with a human female. Especially this one. Chatty and a bit of a complainer, he doesn't understand why she can't simply admit to herself that she wants him. Who wouldn't? He was Briec the Mighty after all. Females fought to spend the night in his arms. But this one tiny woman with her many secrets and her annoying habit of referring to him as "arrogant" has turned his simple dragon life upside down
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Distressing Damsel:
It was the long tongue on the back of her knee that woke her up. Forcing her eyes open, she looked over her shoulder to see Briec, naked and beautiful, stretched across the enormous bed. His big arms placed on either side of her legs, holding his body over her as he leaned forward and again licked the back of her knee, reveling in it as if someone had spread the finest honey on her skin.
“What are you doing?”
“Waking you up.” His voice sounded raw and husky from sleep and sex. She liked it.
Nipping the sensitive flesh, he grinned. “See? You’re awake now.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“Too long.” It didn’t feel like too long.
When he’d finally exhausted her in the hot springs, he’d picked her up and carried her back to her bed. After quickly drying her off, he’d set her down and got in behind her, muttering something like, “It’s about time you let me in this bed.” Too tired to ask what the hell he meant, and enjoying the feel of his strong arm around her as he drifted to sleep, she instead buried her head in the pillow and quickly dropped off.
Now here he was, dragging that gorgeous body up and over hers, his warm, wet tongue leading the way.
“You taste good.”
“Coming from a dragon, that compliment can be a little scary.”
He nipped one butt cheek, then the other. “Be nice, woman.”
She didn’t want to be nice. She wanted to play. Especially since she never had before. At least not in bed. “Why should I be nice?” she teased. “You’re not nice.” And my, but she did enjoy that about him.
He kissed her lower back, right where her spine met her hips, then licked at it. “I don’t know how,” he murmured against her warm flesh.
“Perhaps I can show you how easy it is to be nice.”
Slowly his eyes lifted to look at her face. “Oh, I think I’d like that,” he breathed out huskily.
She pulled from his grasp, raising herself on her knees while he leaned back, his hands flat on the bed, propping him up.
Turning, she moved to his side and placed her hand on his chest. She stroked the hard, smooth skin and marveled at how her merest touch caused ripples across his body. And that was only with her hand.
Leaning forward, she used the tip of her tongue to tickle one nipple. He let out a harsh gasp, followed by a moan when she suckled him into her mouth. She slid her mouth to the other side and did the same. He shuddered and moaned again, making Talaith smile.
Who knew she had this kind of power?
Talaith slid her hand down his chest and her lips and tongue followed. Before she even reached his straining erection, he’d lifted his hips as if expecting her to take him in her mouth. Her arrogant dragon.
Instead, she licked it from base to tip and back again. Then she followed the pulsating veins, avoiding the head except to occasionally tickle it with her nose.
“Talaith,” he groaned.
“Aye?” Her tongue slithered up the underside of his shaft.
“Don’t torture me, woman.”
“Torture you? Me? The weak human torturing a dragon of such awesome power and intellect?”
He grinned at her teasing. “Yes, evil witch. You’re torturing me. At least have the decency to admit it.”
“I’ll admit nothing.”
“So I noticed,” he muttered while his eyes watched her every move.
She ignored his comment, unwilling to ruin the good mood with the reality of her situation. She had no idea how long before the goddess came for her, and she didn’t want to waste a second thinking about anything but him and how he made her feel.
Talaith wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, marveling at its length and width while enjoying the taste of it, of him. She licked fluid off the tip, teasing the slit with the tip of her tongue, forcing another broken moan from him.
His hand slid into her hair, massaging the back of her head with his long fingers. “Talaith…”
“Mhmm?”
/> He growled and she fought her desire to laugh.
“Stop teasing me, wench. You’re being heartless.”
“I find using the word ‘please’ quite effective at these moments.” She nipped the base and his body jerked in response. “Begging would be even better.”
When he didn’t answer, she glanced up to find him staring off, frowning.
Leaning back a bit, she stared at him. “Gods, you’ve never said please, have you?”
“I’m thinking.” He was silent for a few more seconds, then… “No. I never have.” He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “And I don’t plan to start now.”
Anyone else—king or peasant, husband or child—she’d feel insulted. Yet she wasn’t because she knew he wasn’t being cruel or cold hearted. Just a dragon who never had to say “please” and “sorry” before. And if she thought for one moment she would end up spending the rest of her life with him, she’d have some real concerns.
Since that wouldn’t happen, as he’d reminded her the day before, she wouldn’t worry.
“That’s a real shame, dragon.” She ran her tongue across the tip, blew on the wetness she left behind. “Because without it…” Her open mouth hovered over his shaft for several seconds and she could hear him swallow in desperation, anticipating her sucking him into his next life. Instead of doing that, she snapped her mouth shut. “I can’t help you.”
“You evil—”
“Ah, ah, ah. You be nice.”
Snarling, his hand still tangled in her hair, he pulled her close then pushed her onto her back. He lay across her, his mouth claiming hers.
Wicked, wicked thoughts flowed through her brain while Briec’s hands moved across her body, his tongue thrusting against hers.
She moaned and writhed under him, and he pulled back just enough to say, “We both know I can make you beg long before me, sweet Talaith.”
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