by Cathryn Cade
Her Master’s Pleasure
© 2009 Kassie Burns
When Jalil first wakes up after her ship crashes, she thinks she’s having some kind of head injury-induced hallucination. She’s a starship pilot, not a sex slave, but she finds herself tied naked to a rack and examined by her new master. It doesn’t matter that Zand of Teymour, is hot enough to melt an ice queen. The last place she belongs is in a harem.
Zand is fascinated by the first outsider to stumble upon his planet in thousands of years. His people hide themselves from the rest of the galaxy by choice—therefore, Jalil can never be allowed to leave. But Jalil refuses to submit, and if he can’t find a way to tame her, life on Teymour will be its own kind of torture.
Soon Jalil learns that Teymour possesses priceless, First-Civilization technology long thought lost. If she can distract Zand with her body and escape back to the Federation with what she knows, she’ll be rich. But with each passing night in her master’s embrace, she discovers the dark pleasures of passion.
In the end, gaining her freedom may cost her only chance for love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Her Master’s Pleasure:
Straining with all her senses to compensate for the engulfing blackness, Jalil heard her retreating footsteps and the sound of a door opening and shutting.
Alarmed, she pulled against her cuffs. They refused to give. Warning pains shot down her arms and up her legs. A gust of wind blew in through the open doors, lifting the silky fabric and exposing her even more. Not that the gown hid a damn thing. She might as well be hanging naked.
An almost inaudible click told her the door had opened again. Jalil’s throat went dry. Her heart began to pound. Despite her blindfold, she felt a powerful presence in the room. Zand?
Footsteps crossed the room. Only one person, as far as she could tell.
“You are lovely. I thought you would be once you were cleaned up.” The deep male baritone rumbled somewhere near her ear. With a start, she realized Zand had halted next to the rack. Damn, she could picture him standing there and staring at her.
The thought made her traitorous nipples grow harder. She squirmed in her cuffs and swore at him, but only a muffled grunt emerged from the gag.
“You’re a woman of spirit, I see.” Zand’s breath tickled her ear. He possessed a cultured voice and something warm and playful in his tone eased a little of her fear. At least he didn’t sound like an insane despot.
Without warning, a finger touched her chin. She jerked back. Zand chuckled and pressed his hand into the soft flesh of her breast. His palm brushed over her taut nipple. A zing of electricity rushed down her nerve endings to curl her toes. Outraged and mortified, she writhed in her constraints.
“Relax, my beauty. This is the seraglio. There is no escape. You’ll submit to whatever I desire.”
Footsteps circled the rack. Jalil imagined him staring at her body through the flimsy silk, at her back, at her buttocks.
As if he’d read her mind, Zand cupped the bottom of her butt with his strong hands. Jalil gave a muffled cry of surprise. She stiffened with anger and glared into the blackness.
His hands moved upward, kneading her ass, caressing her skin through the silky garment. She tried to hold onto her anger, but his hands were deft and skilled, massaging her buttocks with a firm but pleasing touch, creating little rivulets of pleasure that prickled over her skin and roused a surprising heat deep in her core.
His fingers slid into the crack of her butt cheeks, spreading them. This time she stayed motionless, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
He chuckled again and encircled her waist with both hands, his fingers playing with her navel.
She cursed her ticklish skin, cursed the heat that uncoiled in her belly, cursed the wiggle she could not control. For a moment her butt pressed against him. Something long and hard dug into her rear. He had an erection.
She froze, not daring to breathe. He laughed and kissed the back of her neck. His lips were warm and soft and full. They lingered a long moment on her skin, tasting her. He lifted her hair and swept his tongue along her hairline.
“Yes, I like you, and I’ll have you soon, very soon.”
She yelled a protest through the gag, but the only sound that came out was another helpless grunt. Laughing, he lightly slapped both her ass cheeks.
Blood pounded in her temples, but she could still hear him walking around her again. He stopped and faced her. Her breasts rose and fell with her quickened breathing. With maddening deliberation, he continued her sensual torture.
His hands touched her thighs where the hem of the gown fell. He pushed the silk upward, and a cool breeze teased the suddenly smoldering flesh between her legs.
“The pathway to your womanly core is marked with gold.” She heard surprise and delight in his voice. His hand stroked the soft patch of hair between her thighs. The tips of his fingers brushed over the place where her clitoris lay hidden beneath the folds of her pussy. It hardened, swelling upward, and she squirmed in mortification.
“Ah, what’s this? You like my touch.” His finger circled the thickening flesh, rubbing it. The pressure made her pussy throb with need. Little bursts of pleasure shot through her body. Her inner flesh grew damp and tightened with anguished need.
Jalil stiffened, her breath caught in her throat. She stared into the darkness behind the blindfold. What next? Was he going to finger-fuck her, rape her before she’d even so much as seen his face?
Instead, the man gave a low growl of approval and withdrew his touch from her intimate flesh. “You are indeed a prize, one to be savored, not rushed. I hear your eyes are the color of the sea and the sky. I want to see them, and I want to hear your voice. Sepella warns me, though, that you’ve not yet learned obedience. So I tell you this: If you act against me, you’ll be punished, and the punishment will be severe. Do you believe me?”
Jalil pressed her lips together. She wanted nothing more than to spit in his face the moment he removed the gag. But that wouldn’t get her back to the Gypsy. Forcing down her anger, she nodded.
“Good. Act with wisdom and I’ll treat you with respect.” He sounded amused. “Attempt to revolt and you’ll find yourself back on this rack, bound, gagged and blindfolded. And I won’t be so gentle a second time.”
His fingers plucked at the knot behind her head, and the gag loosened. He pulled it out of her mouth. Breathing hard, she bit back a curse. She hated yielding to him, even in the smallest thing, but she needed to regain some measure of freedom so she could figure out how to escape from this tyrant.
When she’d stayed silent a few moments, he untied her blindfold and it fell away. Jalil blinked and saw the handsome man who had leaned over her in the wreck. He was standing a few feet away from her, regarding her with calm possessiveness.
“You find the idea of revolt by a woman laughable?” She put all the scorn she could muster into her voice. Lifting her head, she swept a haughty glance over his body. Midnight black hair hung to his shoulders in the many braids she’d remembered. They framed a strong face with a long nose and full, sensual mouth. As before, his eyes reminded her of the dark, velvety depths of space pulsing with the distant sparkle of stars.
He was tall, half a head taller than her, with a broad chest and wide shoulders. He was no weakling, this Lord of Katarsh. Unlike her, he wore clothes, a long thick purple robe belted in scarlet at the waist. It fell to the floor, hiding his legs. His muscled arms were bare, though, and adorned with golden bands.
To her surprise, her pussy tightened and a series of little shivers darted up her spine. This man was smokin’ hot. She’d like to tie him down on a bed and have her way with him. The idea that he might do that very thing to her was making her insides go molten.
He took a step back and stood with his hands on his hips, regarding her. “Despite what you may think, Teymour is not a savage world. But I imagine our culture is unique.”
Jalil struggled to regain her equili
brium. His nearness was overwhelming. Somehow he managed to dominate the space around him. She was finding it difficult to breathe. She had to fight back. With an effort, she found her voice. “It is, although not in a good way. Where I come from, a man isn’t allowed to touch a woman without her consent.”
He lifted his brows. “Forgive my ignorance, but we’ve been cut off from other worlds since the First Civilization fell. Where do you come from?”
“It’s called the Federation. It rose from the ashes of the First Civilization.”
“But it’s just as sexually prudish, it seems.”
“If you call simple decency prudish.”
Zand laughed. “You think I have sex with women without their consent? Each of the women in my seraglio is chosen—and thrilled to be here.”
“Like you chose me? Against my will?”
His expression grew serious. “You would like the alternative less. If I hadn’t brought you here, the Lord Imperator would have claimed you. I assure you, he cares nothing for the niceties.”
“He’s worse than you?”
“Far worse. The sexual rules are different here on Teymour, but I enjoy conducting my sexual games with mutual consent. That is a tradition on our world. In certain hands, though, our games of submission and dominance can turn darker.”
He stopped, but shadows moved in the depths of his eyes. Jalil shuddered, imagining what he meant. Was she lucky after all? Frick! The thought shocked her. Her wrists and ankles already ached from the cuffs holding her in place. The man was trying to brainwash her.
Prince of Dragons
Cathryn Cade
His beast will have her beauty—but only on his terms.
Orion, Book 3
Sirena Blaze has left a string of smiling males across the galaxy—but she’s not smiling now. After two attempts to sabotage her ship, it’s time to call for backup. Her warriors deserve the best, and that means recruiting a member of the elite Serpentian guard as co-commander.
One look at Slyde Stone, and Sirena’s smile returns. She sets out to indulge in the sensual delights for which his people are legendary.
Slyde would like nothing more than to bed the famous beauty, but a secret binds the hands that burn to take her. He is a half-dragon shifter, a race thought to be nothing more than a myth. He’s real, and so is the code he must live by—he can mate only once.
Sirena’s fury at Slyde’s refusal knows no bounds—until saboteurs loose a pair of deadly serpents on board the Orion. And the infuriating man has the gall to make a wager. If she finds them first, she can have him. But if he wins, she must agree to be his alone—for life.
Warning: Space cougar on the prowl, a handsome virgin in her sights. Hot love scenes, and even hotter dragon shape-shifting.
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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.
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Prince of Dragons
Copyright © 2010 by Cathryn Cade
ISBN: 978-1-60928-154-0
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Natalie Winters
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First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2010
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