by Skye Warren
His pride was not worth it.
His foot rested on the brake, leaden by the weight of his self-disgust. The vehicle slowed to a lurching stop. He would not make this decision alone. Crawling over the supplies, he knelt beside the cot. He reached for the blanket and touched on warmth. He pulled back the blanket.
“Stopping already?” asked a low voice that could only belong to Drake.
Sebastian jumped back. “Fuck.”
“Such language,” Drake mocked gently, sitting up in the cot. “Or was that a suggestion?”
Hope sprung up, but he stuffed it back. “What are you doing here?”
Drake stretched, producing a series of cracks. “El Basque and I made an accord. He wanted to stay there. I wanted to come with you.”
An odd feeling of triumph tiptoed through him, but he wasn’t ready to give in so easily. “Going behind my back, swapping places, and hiding for eight revolutions was the most straightforward way?”
“Trust me,” Drake said in what was almost a drawl. “I have experience with these things.”
“You’re a bastard,” Sebastian said, but it came out far more breathy than he’d intended. Seductive almost.
“True enough, but you’re stuck with me.” Drake paused in his all-too-casual perusal of the tiny-boxed space to look Sebastian in the eye. “Right?”
Hell, did Drake still doubt him? He must, considering Sebastian had left him.
“I travel to no one and nowhere,” Sebastian said hoarsely. It was meant as a warning. He had nothing to offer Drake, however he might want him.
“Bring me with you and never be alone.” Drake pulled him down onto the thin cot, where he promptly forgot where he was and stopped caring where they went.
THE END
Thank you for reading Leashed.
Check out the other erotic titles by Skye Warren.
HEAR ME
She doesn’t remember her past, only her training. She can’t talk, not that a good slave should speak out of turn. None of that matters when she wakes up in the warm, rustic room. Her new master is distant but kind. There’s only one problem: he doesn’t want her.
Longing for the shackles of safety, she pulls from the last dregs of her will to prove her worth as a slave. It seems to be working. He responds first to her body and next to her submission. The secrets of his past haunt the cabin, fraying the tightening bond between Master and slave, but it is her own memories that may finally unravel it.
This book contains a bonus short story Escape, set in the same dark erotica world.
WARNING:
This book contains explicit scenes of sex, including dubious consent and captivity situations. The BDSM does not conform to literary conventions, making it sometimes more realistic, and other times not. This is a work of fiction not appropriate for anyone uncomfortable with these situations or anyone under the age of eighteen.
An excerpt from Hear Me:
She kissed him. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted—in surprise, she thought—and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she’d done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. She needed it, and if he took it away, if he stopped her…
He did stop her, but only to reverse everything, changing it but leaving it the same, with only the flick of his tongue and the tightening of his hand on her hip. Then it was him kissing her; it was her sighing. Please, oh please. And he answered her with his heat, his taste, with the pleasure he found from showing her this place of beauty and magic.
No, she’d been wrong. Any price would be too high if she were to lose this after all. Even precious courtesy wouldn’t be enough, compared to this. The world upended around her, from pain to pleasure, from survival to passion. The pebbled beach smoothed to velvet under her feet, the moisture in the air slicked their skin.
An ache started in her sex, and her hips rocked against him. She would have restrained herself once she noticed, but he moaned, and she knew without words that it was good. She was good, and he wanted her to keep doing it. So she let her body lead—strange though it felt, foreign and uncertain. She rolled her body along his, she ran her hands over his skin.
It wasn’t her anyway. This was too much, too fast. It had to be some other woman playing the sensual lover, because she would never dare. And when he said, “God, yes, so long,” it was only a dream.
He broke the kiss, and she sighed with regret. But then he pulled her to the water, where eddies of warm and cool tickled her feet. She gasped in delight, and it sounded sharply even over the rush inside the cave. It had a strange amplifying effect—even the silence was loud, but each small splash or sigh was a roar in her ears.
She looked up to find him watching her with an enigmatic expression. In the shadows, the darkness of his eyes loomed large. She imagined she could see his thoughts, that they swirled like so much smoke: thick bands of lust, wisps of amusement.
Her training wasn’t about how to stand or to suck, not really. She had become an expert at reading expressions, at decoding body language. He was a formidable cipher, but she only needed time.
Meanwhile, she knew well enough what those heavy lids and flattened lips meant. She saw the tinge of red on his cheeks. All of that would have told her, even if she hadn’t seen the bulge in his wet jeans. He wanted to take her and this time, it wasn’t in his sleep. It wasn’t in some awkward moment, born of pity—no. He had initiated this. He had brought her to this magical place. No dream.
He seemed to like her forwardness, like a release valve to the curious guilt he had about her status, so she tentatively reached up to sweep a wet lock of hair from his forehead. He remained still for her touch, his expression one of approving forbearance. But when she went to stroke down his neck, he caught her wrist.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to say no if you don’t want it too. I’m afraid you can’t. If I were better—stronger—I wouldn’t even make you choose, but I…” He sighed. The moisture in the air beaded on his eyelashes. “It’s been so long. I’ve waited so long.”
He pulled her in deeper, until the water climbed her thighs and lapped at her cunt. They followed the wall of the cave until it opened up onto a small beach that was completely enclosed by cool stone and reflective water. Barely enough place for both of them, but she knew that was the point. Here even the white noise of the water was reduced, and all she could hear was her breath and his.
“I never imagined a submissive as perfect as you,” he said lowly, but the words were as commanding as she’d ever heard him. “I keep thinking you’re not real, that I’ll wake up and find myself alone again. But this isn’t real, is it? You aren’t really like this. They made you this way.”
Don’t make me think about it. Just want me.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “When you look at me, so damn trusting. It’s not right. I know that, but I can’t stop. Will you let me, subby? Can I hurt you?”
Learn more about Hear Me at
http://skyewarren.com/books/hear-me/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There’s struggle in the sex. There’s pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.
Visit Skye’s website for her current booklist, free reads, giveaways, goodies and more:
http://skyewarren.com/
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ISBN: 9780988363229
LEASHED
Copyright © 2012 by Skye Warren
All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in any part is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirel
y coincidental. The author does not condone sexual acts without consent.
For questions and comments about this book please contact the author at [email protected].