by Moira Rogers
“Aw, shug, am I that predictable?” Yeah, he was. No way in hell he could temper the urge to tell her everything he wanted to do to her. In precise, Technicolor detail. “You’re tremblin’ because I’m eating your pussy. Lickin’ you inside and out, nice and slow. Savoring you.”
Her pulse skittered beneath his lips. “Logan, please—”
“Yeah, those are exactly the words you keep repeatin’ while my tongue is workin’ your clit and your sweet honey is filling my mouth.” He groaned and shifted, resting his forehead against hers. The fantasy had him hard as granite and desperate to sink into her softness. “Christ. Have mercy on me, Rissa. Say you’ll come home with me.”
He will have his revenge—one wicked seduction at a time.
Primal Pleasure
© 2010 Sydney Somers
Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 3
Emma is used to getting dragged into her twin sister’s magical messes, but this time her predicament is more than a minor annoyance. She’s chained to a cat shifter that her sister encased in a curse of stone. Worse, the unfortunate gargoyle’s waking up. And her sister’s not there to take the heat.
After a century suspended in stone, Cian would do anything to get his hands on the sorceress who put him there. Strangely, his dreams of revenge turn into an animal hunger to put his hands all over her—in every delightfully wicked way imaginable.
Never as talented as her sister, Emma doesn’t trust her own magic. But for now she must let Cian believe she’s the culprit in order to strike a bargain: to permanently lift the curse in exchange for his tracking skills to find her missing sister. The longer she is near him, though, the closer she comes to surrendering much more than her body to the brutal warrior.
As their attraction catches fire, Emma dreads what could happen when he learns the truth. If he will sacrifice her to break the spell…or fight for a love that goes beyond animal instinct.
Warning: This book contains adult language, violence, bone-melting explicit sex and a stubborn alpha male who likes his revenge served hot, wild and strong enough to bring him to his knees.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Primal Pleasure:
“You would risk your family to keep me?”
For all the practice she had at masking her fear—thanks to Elena—the gargoyle’s steel-edged conviction made it hard not to take him seriously. As worried as she’d been over her fate, some small part of her had dared to hope he might willingly release her.
The look on his face, the unwavering blue depths locked on her, told her he meant every word. He really had no intention of releasing her.
“My family can handle themselves.”
She swallowed past the momentary panic clawing at her throat. “So revenge is all that matters to you?” She certainly hadn’t gotten that vibe when she’d touched his belongings and experienced those memories.
“Not all that matters, no.” He dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him.
“Whoa there, Chippendale. Let’s keep this PG rated.”
Unfazed, he moved his hand to the fly of his jeans, drawing her attention down his toned abs—and how had she missed those on the roof?
“Is there a problem?”
Hell yeah, there was a problem. She just couldn’t remember exactly what it was as the button gaped open just a fraction.
Focusing, she went with the obvious. “You just took your shirt off.”
“And yours is next.”
“In your dreams, gargoyle.” She slipped around him, finding it easier to keep a clear head when she wasn’t pinned between him and the wall.
He tugged his zipper down and circled her, pausing behind her long enough to whisper, “In my dreams the only thing covering your body is me.”
Her stomach grew hot at the image that unfolded in her mind. She shook her head to erase it as much to discourage him—as if that were possible—and preferably before the jeans riding low on his hips slid any lower.
Avalon help her, there was no way he was wearing any underwear beneath them.
She needed to stay focused on finding a way out of this mess, preferably with her clothing intact.
Given the way the corners of his mouth tipped up, as if amused by her white-knuckled grip on her shirt, the odds didn’t seem to be in her favor. That fact alone spurred her retreat.
Cian tensed like an animal about to take down its prey, but after a few feet, he still hadn’t moved. How was it that he managed to make her feel like she was being stalked when he hadn’t taken a single step in her direction?
She searched his face, finally understanding the wicked glimmer in his eyes. He was enjoying it. He wanted her to run, wanted to catch her.
Which only forced her to acknowledge that she wanted to be caught.
Caught. Kissed. Touched.
And it was all so damn crazy. She didn’t do one-night stands with men under normal circumstances, let alone with one who was casually eyeing the chain she dragged along the floor like it was part of the trap he couldn’t wait to spring.
“I am not some sex slave.”
When he took a step toward her, she wished she hadn’t said a damn thing.
“You’re right about that,” he drawled innocently, and she scrambled back another step, realizing too late he was herding her toward his bedroom.
“Slaves,” he continued, “need to be coerced in the beginning. You want it. Want me.”
A hint of uncertainty echoed beneath all that slick feline arrogance, surprising her. Distracting her. Otherwise she might have noticed how quickly he closed the distance between them, forcing her to tip her head back to meet his gaze. He towered over her five-foot-four frame, but she didn’t find it as intimidating as she should have given the magic-nulling handcuff locked around her wrist.
Everything about the situation left her at a disadvantage, but she refused to play the submissive female.
He stared at her throat before finally lifting his hand and tracing the soft hollow, then moving on to her collarbone. The teasing brush of his thumb was at odds with the tension she felt radiating from him.
“You didn’t deny that you want me.” His hands slid beneath her jacket and over her shoulders.
“And give you a reason to prove I was lying?”
He laughed, and the rough sound washed over her. A little dazed by his smile, she was slow to process her jacket sliding down to her arms.
Her eyes snapped open—when the hell had she closed them?—and she stumbled back. He might have been too distracted when she’d been in the shower to realize how few tracings she had, but risking it a second time was a really bad idea. It wouldn’t take him long to realize the cuff would null any ability to mask her tracings.
A tug on her wrist pulled her forward. She immediately retreated, stepping inside the dark bedroom at her back.
Could he see well enough to notice her tracings—or lack thereof—in the dark?
He stopped in the doorway, the light behind him casting his face in shadows. Maybe she’d been a little premature with the whole not-intimidated thing. She managed another step, and he countered with another tug on the chain until she was forced to meet him halfway.
“Cian.”
He stopped, only a foot away now. “Again.” He stepped forward, and her thighs connected with his.
“I don’t—”
“My name. Say it again.”
Her lips parted soundlessly.
“Please.”
Inches separated them. “Cian.”
His palm caressed her jaw, guiding her closer. “Again,” he murmured.
“Ci—”
He slanted his mouth across hers.
Kisri
Moira Rogers
His duty...her pleasure.
…and the Beast, Book 2
After three years at war, Ennon bears the burden of seeing the High Lord’s vast armies home. Keeping thousands of fiercely independent lions in line isn’t easy. When his soldiers discover a beautiful
, royal female hidden beneath an illusion spell, the lure of her inheritance threatens the order of his camp.
The men of her family protected Kisri, until the war stole them away. Tired of defending herself from greedy suitors, she’s in search of her only remaining male relative. Instead she finds Ennon, her cousin’s most dangerous warrior. Perhaps the only man in the kingdom who has no interest in claiming her birthright. Which makes him unique…and tempting.
Delivering Kisri to his High Lord’s side—while keeping his distance—is Ennon’s one and only duty. Yet Kisri’s untutored advances crack his formidable resistance. And she proves to be a dangerously adept student. Especially when their passion wakes a magic beyond their control…
Warning: This story contains a dangerous shapeshifter warlord, a lioness with a sword, innocent passion, sexual awakenings and a happily-ever-after worthy of any fairy tale.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Kisri
Copyright © 2011 by Moira Rogers
ISBN: 978-1-60928-476-3
Edited by Anne Scott
Cover by Angela Waters
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First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: June 2011
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