by BETH KERY
Fury bloomed in her chest, feeling as if it would explode through the skin at any moment. “I told you the other night. I knew you weren’t like everybody else. I didn’t guess you’re…whatever you are…a vampire?”
“Humans have called me that. The truth is a bit more complicated.”
“Vampire or not, you’re an asshole. Some things remain consistent across the species. Even the paranormal variety.”
She braced her legs and twisted viciously to push herself out of his hold. She might as well have been trying to throw a mountain off her. His strength was effortless, as though she were being restrained by steel instead of flesh.
“Let go of me.”
“When you calm down.”
She tried to ignore the shiver of excitement that raced down her neck when she felt his voice rumbling from his chest to her back and his warm breath brushing her ear. She inhaled his familiar scent. As usual, it started an unstoppable chemical cascade of arousal in her body. Her lack of control over her reaction infuriated her further.
“I’m about ready to scream myself hoarse. Do you want to upset Aidan?”
“No. Do you?”
She twisted her neck around and glared up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you think you’re really doing the best thing by taking him away from Whitby?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Who’s making that decision? The loving mother? Or your battered ego?”
She went completely still. For a few seconds she thought she’d go stark raving mad if she didn’t get to punch Saint Sevliss’s gorgeous, smug face just once. He stared down at her with those amazing blue eyes while she panted and her breath burned in her lungs.
Using every ounce of her willpower, she forced herself to calm. She inhaled slowly several times, trying her best not to notice the sensation of Saint’s arms enclosing her expanding and contracting ribcage.
“Let go of me, please,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.
When she felt him slowly release her, she gave full rein to her fury. She turned, stepped back, cocked her fist and swung. Two weeks of pent-up anger and frustration went into a well-landed right hook to Saint’s angular jaw. His chin swung at the impact of the blow.
He slowly turned to face her. What she saw in his eyes made her take a step back in alarm. He halted her retreat by grabbing her upper arms and hauling her next to his body. Anxiety and anguish mixed with Christina’s fury when she stared up at his face.
How can he feel so much and show so little? It was as if her punch had popped the lid off a tightly sealed container of frothing, scorching-hot emotion. A tear skipped down her cheek when he shook her.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Christina. I hate myself for having done it. But you gave me no choice, the way you were pursuing me.”
His heat seemed to pour into her body. She experienced his inner turmoil clearly, felt his desperation, his need and his pain in equal degrees to her own. It was unbearable, the friction it caused inside of her. Without thinking about her actions, she struggled to get her right arm free from his hold. Much to her surprise, he released her. She grabbed a handful of soft hair at his nape and jerked fiercely.
“I would think you’d be glad we were leaving. Wasn’t that little show you staged the other night precisely for that purpose?”
She sobbed as tears spurted down her cheek. Despite her unbridled fury, she couldn’t stop staring at Saint’s mouth for some god-awful reason, couldn’t stop from pressing her body against his long, hard length, or rubbing her aching nipples against his ribs.
“I was trying to stop you from getting me into bed. I’m trying to keep you safe from me. Can’t you see that? That doesn’t mean I want you and Aidan to leave Whitby for good.”
“Well, I guess your little plan didn’t work too well, did it?” She jerked on his hair one last time for emphasis before she went up on tiptoe and pulled him down closer to her face. She didn’t stop until she felt his warm breath brushing against her lips. “Why in the hell do I need to be kept safe? You must know by now I can read people’s minds, Saint. I have never been afraid of you.”
His upper lip curled; his eyes blazed. She cried out in surprise when he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her roughly until they were groin to groin, heartbeat to heartbeat.
“You should be afraid.” He swooped down and took her mouth in a ravaging kiss.
A torrent of emotion and sensation surged through her. Christina dazedly realized Saint was right. A woman should be afraid she might drown in the deep, frothing well of carnal delight that suddenly submersed her entire being.
Nevertheless, she craned up for him hungrily, all vestiges of rational thought burned into a mist by her lust and need.
Ensnaring the ultimate bad boy has its risks…and its rewards.
Hot as Hades
© 2011 Alisha Rai
It’s not easy being Hades. Constantly guarding his world against other meddling and ambitious deities is stressful work. So when a naked goddess falls directly into his lap, along with the news that he has to shelter her for the indefinite future, he is less than thrilled. Particularly since he can’t help but lust after the beautiful female.
The Underworld isn’t the first place Persephone would pick for a vacation—who in their right mind would choose a dark palace over sunshine and flowers? Yet from Hades’s first touch, the dark, sexy ruler fascinates her and has her thinking a fling might be just the thing to while away her confinement.
But trust each other? Not a chance. Until the day comes that Persephone must leave…and they realize that trusting each other is the only way they’ll ever meet again.
Warning: Contains an arrogant god, a stubborn goddess, horny deity nookie and enough supernatural friction to set the Underworld on fire.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Hot as Hades:
Persephone preceded him into his office. He shut the door loudly. The click of the lock made her jump. He liked it when she was a little unsure. The hint of vulnerability appealed to him, particularly when she was doing her lady-of-the-manor act the rest of the time.
Keeping her guessing was a fun game, so instead of rushing to get her naked, he went to his desk and sat in his chair. He took his time making himself comfortable before crooking his finger at her in a way that he was certain would raise her blood pressure.
She didn’t love orders, his Persephone. Indeed, her eyes narrowed, and he waited for her to snort at his imperious, silent command.
But a small smile curved her lips, and she sashayed over to stand in front of him, her dress rippling and briefly defining her legs.
He raised a brow. “You’re in the mood to obey me?”
“I suppose so.”
“Why?”
Her smile grew wider. “Because you want me to disobey you.”
Fuck, but she could read him like a book, and he didn’t like that. He was so contrary, he wanted to reward her earlier kind words and actions by proving her wrong, proving that he was no saint. His dominant, autocratic side stretched out of slumber, not that it ever rested for long. “Take off your dress. With your hands,” he added, so she wouldn’t simply dematerialize it.
She raised her hands to the buttons that ran along the front of the dress. Pearl buttons on a pale pink dress—it was his fantasy, his secret kink, innocence on the verge of being despoiled.
The little V of skin at her throat widened as she released each button, showing him that glorious unblemished flesh. Every time he saw that skin, his selfish, territorial nature made him want to mark it, to claim it as his. He had to forcibly remind himself that Persephone and her skin’s presence in his life was strictly temporary.
A snarl sounded, and he realized by her startled expression that it came from him. She would leave him sooner or later.
But for now…now, she was his. Focus on this moment.
And there was so much to focus on, particularly
when she shrugged the dress off her shoulders, surprising him with the lacy white corset she wore underneath. The garment propped up her breasts, her nipples peeking out from the lace like confections on a cupcake. It was sensory overload, the erotic snatches of her body almost too much to take in at once. Corset. No panties. Garters. A combination of silken flesh and material.
He realized he had been staring at her without speaking when she shifted her weight. “Touch yourself,” he ordered.
A flush spread over her exposed breasts. “Where?”
Anywhere. Everywhere. “Your tits. Play with them.” He deliberately used the cruder word, wanting to shock her into refusing him, perverse bastard that he was.
She didn’t refuse him, though, simply cupped those gloriously full mounds. Her fingers worked the hard nipples, her head falling back with a small moan as she massaged them.
His cock grew harder, pressing against the weight of his trousers, but he knew if he allowed himself release, it would be over before it began. Her legs spread wider as she toyed with her breasts. One delicate hand started to trail down her body to the open lips of her pussy.
Hades allowed her to get as far as her lower belly before he spoke. “Stop.”
She didn’t listen, her fingers tangling in her pubic hair.
“Persephone. Stop.”
She jerked and stared at him, confused and primed for release.
“Come here.” Hades swore the heady scent of sun and flowers clung to her skin, wafting under his nose as she walked closer to him. “Turn around.”
She hesitated but turned when he made a twirling gesture. Her ass was full and round, bare but framed by the garter and corset. It made an enticing picture.
Paying no attention to her jump of surprise, he palmed a cheek and roughly massaged the flesh. “I love your ass,” he murmured. “I love your whole body. It’s like it was made for me. Only for me.”
It took him a second to realize the import of what he’d bleated aloud. Growling in frustration at himself, he grabbed her hips and spun her around. She teetered, steadying after she grasped his forearms for balance.
“Take me out,” he demanded. He spread his legs to give her room to work the buttons on his trousers, which were stretched tight over the bulge of his erection. The slightly bent-over position she was in made her tits hang down like ripe fruit. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and licked the top of those mounds, finding them delicious as usual. She stiffened, her hands stopping their work. He released his hold on the chair’s arms to cradle her breasts and bring them to his mouth. He knew what pleased her. She always liked it when he sucked hard, lashing at the nipple with his tongue, so he did that now, bringing a high-pitched cry from her mouth.
“Don’t stop,” he drew away to tell her. “Take me out. Play with me.”
She trembled. He loved it when he made her shake with need. It made him feel ten feet tall. “I can’t concentrate,” she said.
He released her, giving no heed to her pitiful whimper. “Then I’ll stop distracting you.”
“Jerk.”
The word lacked heat, and he grinned. He’d come to read her body well, and he knew she needed him badly. “On your knees, female. Maybe that will help you focus.”
She shot him a mock-glare. Her fingers resumed their mission as she sank to the subservient position. He had to grit his teeth as those delicate fingers touched and rubbed him through the leather. When she finally managed to get the fly open, his cock almost ran out to greet her, pushing into her hands. The blessed feel of her warm palm over him made him want to shout for joy and pump into her hand for as long as necessary to get him off.
“Persephone…” He shoved his hips up, groaning as her hand slipped up the shaft and back down, the better to feel that softness all around him.
“What order would you like to give me now, Lord Hades?”
He slit his eyes at her mocking emphasis on Lord. Impertinent baggage. “Make me come.”
Her hand jacked him again, and he spread his legs wider, an invitation to continue. Idly, as if she wasn’t kneeling at his feet in a scandalous corset and playing with his naked cock, she tilted her head. “With my hands? Or my mouth?”
He swallowed, the thought of Persephone’s lips wrapped around his cock filling his head. He had a particular fondness for blowjobs but had rarely been able to find anyone who was willing to bestow that favor. Because he was bigger and more powerful than most females, he always had the distasteful impression that he was forcing his partner.
However, if Persephone chose to grace him with her mouth…
He said nothing, and she smiled. “I do remember you saying something about drinking your come.”
His cock jerked at the memory, the dirty words he’d roughly muttered while lost in a haze of sexual need. Without any warning, she licked the vein running along the side of his cock. He gasped, and his hands flew to her shoulders, the little lick punching into his stomach.
“I guess you like this,” he half-heard her say. Unable to care if her tone held the proper amount of respect for him, he threaded his hands through her hair.
“More,” he said, aware that he was pleading.
In a realm of dangerously delicious decadence, three lost souls dare to love…
Eversong
© 2011 Eden Bradley
Ever, owner of London’s infamous Midnight Playground, fears the pain of his past and the weight of centuries are pushing him to the edge of insanity. Not even his favorite indulgences—sex, blood, companionship—hold his interest. And he wonders, what’s the point of immortality when life is unbearably empty?
Into the void stumbles trouble.
Kidnapped, Turned against her will then abandoned by a rogue vampire, Mercy Turned the handsome Deo in a fit of loneliness and despair. Now they stand, frightened and confused, before the Council to be punished for their unintentional crimes. Their fresh innocence, the intensity of their illegal bond, rekindles Ever’s sexual and emotional fire.
The trio forges a connection that’s more than simply a cure for Ever’s lassitude. Its brilliance drives the shadows from his soul…until Mercy is threatened, and he must draw on his darkness to fight for her life. And risk losing his happily forever after to madness.
Warning: Old love lost, new love gained, and in between some of the hottest three-way vampire sex ever seen in Europe! Includes oral sex, anal sex, m/m/f, with a few spanking and rimming scenes because vampires are a dirty bunch.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Eversong:
Deo was right behind her, taking her hand once more as they moved toward the front doors of London’s Midnight Playground. The building was grand, with its pale red bricks and soaring arched windows, its turreted façade. Her nerves drawn tight, she focused her gaze on the fine white linen of Ramsey’s shirt stretched across his wide back as he led the way into the club, past a pair of burly human doormen who nodded respectfully at the older vampire.
Inside, the light was dim, burning red and amber as though it were still nighttime. And she realized right away that in some way it was, inside the club. That it had been the same in what little she’d seen of the Madrid club before they’d been taken to Ramsey, secreted away until the car had arrived to bring them here to London. As they moved through another pair of inner doors flanked by another set of human doormen, she could feel the low throb of music coming from somewhere, smelled the metallic scent of human blood. She felt the sexual hum of bodies coming together, blood being drunk. Still, as titillating as the idea was, she was too distracted by worry to allow her mind to indulge in the sensual scents and sounds assaulting her from every direction, as though she were one raw nerve ending. Maybe she was.
She hung on tighter to Deo’s strong hand as Ramsey led them down a hallway that seemed to be made all of black marble. She was vaguely aware of those they passed—humans and vampires, all of them gorgeous, unbelievably beautiful. Her heart hammered in her chest. She was overwhelmed by it all. Fear and desi
re. Stimulation overload. Emotional overload. Her fingers dug into Deo’s hard, silky flesh.
“It’ll be all right, Mercy,” he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to her temple.
Still, she was glad when they stepped into a quiet elevator. It was paneled in sleek wood, as fine and luxurious as the walls of any mansion might be, making a soft whirring as it rose several floors.
Her pulse sped up as the doors opened on to a long hall and Ramsey gestured for them to step out of the elevator. He took them to a pair of doors decorated with two dragon heads, gilded and jeweled.
“Deo…”
“Shh, love. Don’t be frightened,” he assured her. “I’m right here. We’ll be fine, I’ll make sure of it.” But she felt in his touch that his heart was beating with the same racing doubt as hers.
Would they be punished? Separated? She couldn’t stand to think of that. Being left alone again, as she had been those first days after being Turned. After Gaius had abandoned her.
Ramsey turned to her then, his accent a soft rumble of Spanish and a touch of Southern French from his life in New Orleans centuries earlier. “Mercy, you will never have to be alone again. That is our purpose here. One of them, anyway. They will not take you from your companion. I can promise you that.”
He smiled, his teeth a stunning flash of white. He really was beautiful, his green eyes brilliant, his dusky skin so sleek. She wanted to touch him, just his cheek, to feel that gorgeous skin. Or maybe more…
His smile widened and she knew he felt her desire for him. She couldn’t help it. Lust was barely within her grasp, something she could control only with great effort since her Turning. She nodded, but she couldn’t seem to calm down—desire or nerves—as Ramsey opened the door and led them through.
She felt the grandeur of the room more than she saw it. She had a vague impression of the same black-and-white marble-paneled walls she’d seen in the rest of the building. The same ornately gilded mirrors everywhere that caught the misty morning light coming in through high, arched windows. But what really caught her attention was the two vampires.