Moonlight Captivation [Moon Shadows Book 1]

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Moonlight Captivation [Moon Shadows Book 1] Page 1

by Angela Castle




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  Whiskey Creek Press

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright ©

  First published in 2012

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  * * * *

  Moon Shadows

  Book 1:

  Moonlight

  Captivation

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  by

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  Angela Castle

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  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  * * * *

  Published by

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

  Whiskey Creek Press

  PO Box 51052

  Casper, WY 82605-1052

  Copyright (C) 2012 by Angela Castle

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-61160-406-1

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

  Editor: Dennis Hays

  Printed in the United States of America

  WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

  DRAGON DOWN UNDER

  "Ms. Castle did an amazing job from taking us from a fantasy world into the world we know and blending the two for an amazing read."

  Raine

  Joyfully Reviewed

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  Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:

  www.torridbooks.com

  Abducting Alice

  Tempting Tara

  Resisting Rachel

  Claiming Claire

  Dragon Down Under

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  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  "Aaaaahhhhhh. Oh God, that feels good! Don't stop!"

  If Neman had a choice, he never would. He slammed his thick cock into the woman's willing body, over and over. At no time, in all his existence, did a woman feel so good around him. Every lush, pale curve, every dip and hollow of her body was a potent aphrodisiac, which even the gods themselves could not duplicate. Bending down, taking a full, dusty pink nipple into his mouth, he sucked in time with his fierce thrusts. She curled her legs around him and tilted her hips to take more of him. Neman responded by pushing her legs higher, angling his hips to hit home deep inside her.

  It wasn't like Neman to take advantage of an intoxicated, potential victim of a Gorlon Kat demon—so what the hell was wrong with him for doing just that? And why, in all his existence, did it feel so right...

  Fifteen minutes earlier...

  Neman thought her totally mad when he found her in the alleyway trying to befriend the creature from the Lower Realms. It stalked towards her; its red, glowing eyes would have alerted any sane person—it was not an alley cat. With a distorted, black body, twisting on its four, deadly claws, its thickly muscled form closely resembled a large jaguar.

  "Heeerrre kitty, kitty, come to Mummy."

  Her slurred words alerted him to her drunken state. He had tracked this demon across several different continents after it viciously killed a string of middle-aged women. Neman jumped from the roof of the tavern building—a twelve-foot drop—and landed directly in the demon's path, drawing his lightweight, custom-made scimitar.

  "Crikey, it's raining men!” the woman said from behind him.

  Neman didn't have time to deal with her; he never took his eyes off the demon. It hissed, turned its back on him, crouched low and then leapt over the tavern wall. Neman was about to give chase, when the woman stepped up behind him and grabbed onto the sleeve of his long, black leather coat.

  "Where'd my kitty go? You scared him away!"

  Her intoxicating vanilla and strawberry scent hit him, stunning him. As Neman turned towards her, she stumbled and he caught her with one arm. Like dragon's fire, the heat of her body pressed against his sent a shock through his system.

  The wavy-haired, lushly curved brunette was certainly not the prettiest or thinnest woman he'd ever beheld, yet she had eyes like the first morning sky, pale blue, with a smattering of freckles across a her pert little nose and deep, pouty, pink lips.

  "You!"

  Her hand found his cock through his expensive, black, tailored pants, as her other hand poked a pale pink-painted fingernail into his chest. She squeezed and almost made him come on the spot.

  "You are going to turn my night from the worst one of my life into the best."

  "How do you wish me to do that, my lady?” Purring like a man who'd just discovered the greatest treasure under the heavens, Neman allowed his hands to roam down her perfectly sized back, to a heart-shaped ass any man would die happy to pound. Neman had a good mind to do just that.

  Her brow creased in a serious expression, as she said, “I want to be fucked until I can't walk, talk or do anything at all. Got a problem with that?"

  Neman sheathed his sword and swung her up in his arms. “Not at all, sweetness—I do like a woman who knows what she wants."

  "Paint me green and pickle me whole! I got a he-man! You're not going to break your back or something?"

  Neman laughed. “No, sweetness, you're lighter than a moonbeam. Where do you live?"

  "Can't go home, man—whore of Babylon in there."

  Neman didn't even want to know what it meant—he was Sumerian, not Babylonian.

  Anchoring her hands around his neck, she bent her head to lick the side of his throat. Neman groaned.

  "Mmmmmmm, you do taste like chocolate."

  He needed to get them out of this dark alley before he pushed her up against the wall and took her like a primitive savage. Neman had never been impulsive, until now. The roller-coaster had started, and he felt there was no way to end it until he was seated fully inside her. Summoning his powers, he gripped her closer to his chest. “Hang on, sweetness; we're going to my place.” With a fizzle of energy in the air and a pop, he landed in the center of his Zigg.

  "Yippee, that wa
s fun. Let's do it again!"

  Her wide, blue eyes thrilled with the ride of teleportation, which scared the shit out of most mortals. He set her on her feet. She smacked her lush, pink lips together, before wetting them with the tip of her tongue, firing his blood even more.

  "Right, let's rumba.” Her hands gripped each side of his expensive, long, black, leather jacket, tugging him down. She kissed him hard on the mouth, her hot little tongue pushing into his mouth.

  Gripping the back of her neck, Neman groaned again. Damn, if he wasn't in control of his body's reaction to her, at least he would control how he kissed her. Everything about this woman called to him, cried out for him to touch her, to have her naked beneath him. He slid his fingers up into her hair, angling her mouth before pushing her tongue back, savoring essence and flavor like a starving man. She tasted of strawberries and vanilla—potent and addictive.

  Feeling like a clumsy youth, he tore at her clothes; he desperately needed to have her naked. Neman growled and snatched her up in his arms, taking the stairs two steps at a time. She laughed and tugged at his clothes. They crashed through the bedchamber door, Neman pausing only briefly to slam it shut and flick on the security switch before taking her across the room and tossing her onto his bed. He tore at her clothes until she was in nothing but her dark blue panties and bra. He ripped the flimsy material from her, tossing the remnants aside, to bask in all her naked glory. She had wondrously creamy skin—every lush dip and hollow begged to be licked and explored with his fingers and tongue. Her breasts were so full, more than even a king deserved. Dark areolas with pink, tight nipples to be suckled and teased. Her body was made for love. Neman wanted to drown himself in her.

  "Wow, you are a he-man!” she exclaimed, with a breathless little pant. “I love strong men—Larry ain't strong."

  Neman growled. He didn't want to hear another man's name on her lips. “I am Neman."

  "Wonderful, now I know whose name to scream when you fuck me!"

  "It will be a pleasure to hear.” His weapons went flying to the ground with a clatter, quickly followed by the rest of his clothes and boots. He could have taken the easy way to undress, but didn't wish to startle her. “What be your name, my lady?"

  "Vanessa, but my friends call me Nessa."

  Her gaze scanned his body, eyes widening with obvious delight, before lowering to his sizable cock. She licked her lips, looking absolutely ecstatic at what she saw.

  "Holy cow, look at all this brawn and muscle—you are one hunk-a-licous! Oh, baby, you are some eye candy. You're not a man, you're a god, and tonight, you're all mine!"

  Neman chuckled at her awe; she was not far off the mark. He felt a strange sense of masculine pride that she found him so attractive. “You, Vanessa, are more beautiful than a goddess, and tonight you're mine."

  "Neman, I want you, I need you, please take me."

  Her hands reached out for him.

  Unable to deny her, he climbed onto the bed. In one swift movement, he pushed her legs wider and mounted her, pushing all the way inside her in one powerful thrust. Oh gods, it was like entering into paradise; the sheer bliss of her tight inner walls squeezing his cock. It had been too long since he'd felt a woman this way. This was something he wanted to feel again and again...

  Back in the present...

  "Yessssss, oh, Neman!"

  Hearing her scream out her pleasure heightened his own passion, and he was unable to hold back; the force of his release hit him harder than a warlock's spell. Spewing forth into Vanessa's tight, slick passage, Neman was in awe of the powerful encounter with this strangely beautiful woman. Every possessive instinct screamed at him to claim her and not let her go. Her eyes were sleepy and sated.

  "Oh, wow, you've totally blown my mind. No man is ever going to be the same again,” she said with a soft sigh.

  He watched her body relax. The thought of her with another man was unsettling. Slowly, he withdrew from her, instantly missing the hot, wet comfort of what felt like home, like a place he belonged. He laid small kisses over her eyes in gratitude.

  "I know, sweetness—sleep now.” He looked down upon the naked mortal he'd just bedded. What craziness possessed him? He'd never brought a woman into the depths of his Zigg before. Her staying wasn't an option. She wouldn't retain much of a memory of him in her inebriated state. This was no place for a human, let alone a tempting siren such as this one. As much as it killed him inside, he knew he could not keep her. He would find out where she belonged and return her, for her own safety.

  He trailed his hand over her soft skin and lust flared once again. In his rush to be buried inside her, he had not taken the time to fully taste and explore this wondrous beauty. A smile snaked across his face. The night was still young. Maybe a little more exploring of her lush body wouldn't do any harm; he would take her home afterward.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 2

  "Wake-up, sleepyhead, wake-up, sleepyhead, wake-up, sleepyhead, wake-up, sleepyheaaaaaaaaaaaaddd!"

  Nessa's arm stumbled out, her hand feeling for the thing which was splitting her head, and she promptly threw her eleven-inch tall, flower-shaped, alarm clock out of the open window, giving a satisfied, yet painful, grin when she heard it shatter into a thousand pieces on the sidewalk, two stories below. Whatever possessed her to buy a Sister Act alarm clock in the first place, was beyond her. It was another of her stupid “I like that movie a lot” phases.

  A jumbo jet was roaring in her head, her mouth tasted like jet fuel and she couldn't remember what she'd done last night. She forced her eyes open. Surely it hadn't been too bad, if she was home in bed. She pulled off her bed sheet, looking down at her body. Okay, she was naked. Whatever she had done, she prayed to God she hadn't done it in the raw. Unlike an ostrich, she didn't have the head or the ass to hide herself in a hole. She breathed in. Mmmmm, what smells so yummy? She sniffed again; it kind of smelled like chocolate. Following her nose, she sniffed at herself. Why did she smell like chocolate? Had she taken a chocolate bath last night? Only in her dreams, dreams of a tall, dark, handsome, sword-wielding man, all over her, in her. She sighed out loud. Oh cripes, even breathing hurt. She lay back, closing her eyes. Maybe if she went to sleep, she'd dream of a chocolate bath and remember it. A loud banging forced her eyes open.

  "Oh cripes, go away."

  The banging continued relentlessly, forcing her to grab her sheet off the bed, wrap herself up and trudge to her front door to peer though the view hole. The figure on the other side was tall, dusty blond, slightly muscular, with hazel eyes, impeccably dressed in a pale lemon polo shirt, tan khaki pants and continental loafers.

  "Yoohoo, honey? Are you in there?"

  Nessa yanked open the door, clamping her hand over her best friend's mouth, before he uttered another word. “Shhhh, even the walls make noise,” she whispered and winced.

  Darren pulled her hand from his mouth, barging past her into the small apartment and through the living room into her kitchen. She followed.

  "Well, coffee and aspirin are a sure-fire cure for a hangover, honey. I was worried about you last night—you didn't answer your phone. Is he gone?"

  "Who?"

  "Oooh, aaaah, oh yeah, baby! Larry."

  The full force of last night hit her like a ton of bricks. She sat down on the chair, feeling sicker than the hangover already making her head pound.

  "Oh, now I remember—the worst day of my life."

  Darren sat down and patted her arm. “I wouldn't say the worst day; remember last year's work picnic?"

  "Shut up. You're not helping."

  "Hey, do you smell chocolate?"

  Darren started sniffing the air, his nose getting increasingly closer to her body.

  "Darren, you know I love you, but will you please stop sniffing me?"

  "You smell like chocolate."

  "I know."

  "And you're wearing a sheet."

  "I know."

  "Why are you wearing a shee
t?"

  "Because I woke up naked, okay?"

  "So, why do you smell like chocolate?"

  He looked her up and down.

  "I don't know. I can't remember much past drinking in some tavern last night. Maybe I ate a whole candy store."

  "Uh, huh. Do you know you have the biggest hickey I've ever seen on your neck?"

  "What?” Nessa jumped up and ran into her bathroom to check her neck in the full-length mirror. True to Darren's words, along her neck was a purple bruise. Curious, she pulled down the sheet to study the rest of her body; what could only be teeth marks ran all down her body and breasts. There was a small tattoo on the right side of her hip. Two triangles faced each other, a red circle ran around the edges, encasing the triangles.

  "Oh my God, how did I get those?"

  "I'm guessing it wasn't fancy-pants Larry,” Darren said behind her. “Got lucky and laid last night, did we? Even drunk, at least you could have come up with a more imaginative tattoo."

  Nessa recovered her body. “I don't remember getting a tattoo; it doesn't hurt, though.” Giving the mark a rub though the sheet, she said, “Everything from last night was a fuzzy blur...and a cat."

  "A cat?"

  "What are you, a bloody parrot?” She gripped her head; it was pounding away. “I don't know what I'm talking about."

  Darren gave her a sympathetic hug. “Have a shower. I'll make some coffee—it'll help clear your head. But I must say, I do like the chocolate smell you have going."

  "Get out.” She pushed Darren to the bathroom door.

  "All right, bossy boots.” He closed the door and started singing the show tune from Oklahoma, “I'm just a girl who can't say no..."

  Groaning, Nessa turned on the shower, hoping to drown out the sound of her overly happy best friend clattering around in her kitchen. She stepped into the cold spray to help ease some of the aches in her body, pressing her head against the cool tiles.

  Getting home from work early the previous day, Nessa opened the door of her apartment, to find her boyfriend of six months, naked, bending the equally naked, skinny, next-door neighbor, aptly named Bunny, over the sofa and rooting her like a rabbit. Nessa supported him to help his acting career take off, and she'd thought she loved him. Note to self: burn sofa first chance I get. He calmly kept fucking Bunny while saying, with a stupid grin on his face, “Hey baby, wanna join in? I always wanted a threeway."

 

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