Secret Mercy Page 4

  This was good. This was right.

  “I’m glad I came here tonight,” she said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

  “So am I, Paige,” Alan said. “So am I.”

  Yes, someone had been listening to her birthday wish after all, and she’d recieved exactly what she wanted.

  See how The Masters of Mercy began - continue reading for an excerpt of Dark Mercy.

  EXCERPT: Dark Mercy: The Masters of Mercy #1

  By Rebecca Lyndon

  June 1098, outside the walls of Antioch

  She came from the water.

  Richard of Guildford caught sight of someone rising from the waves of the Orontes. Gooseflesh rose up along his arms despite the lingering heat of day. He couldn’t tell through the dark desert night who disturbed the surface of the river, but he held up his balled fist, silently signaling the eight men following behind him to stop. Richard hadn’t kept them alive on their trek to the Holy Land these past three years by ignoring his gut instincts.

  They were far from the reinforcements of the siege camp, and, even though Richard believed to his core that his men were the best there were, none of them would stand a chance against a large enough ambush.

  He pulled his sword from its scabbard as a lithe form rose above the water, a lone woman that moved with an unearthly grace. Gossamer silks clung to her body as she floated toward the bank. Silver moonlight glistened off the curve of her breasts and the wide swell of her hips. Her dark mound showed clearly beneath the thin fabric. Richard tightened his grip around the hilt of his blade even as his cock hardened.

  She smiled as she stepped onto the grassy bank. Hardly the reaction one expected of a seemingly defenseless woman facing an armed band of warriors. But this was no ordinary woman. Even if Richard had not seen her gliding across the river, he still would have sensed it. Her amethyst eyes sparkled with their own light.

  “Put down your weapons.”

  Richard heard her voice, clear and loud in his mind, but her full, red lips had not moved. He was certain of it.

  When Richard shook his head in an exaggerated manner, commanding his men to stand firm against her, she waved her hand. The steel tip of his sword was forced to the ground with such strength that it buried in the cracked earth at his feet. Richard turned to see that the same unseen force had disarmed them all.

  “What are you?” Richard demanded.

  The willowy creature slid her gaze appreciatively down his body as she stepped closer. Her dark nipples puckered. “I go by many names, but you may call me Ashira.”

  “And I say, we are better off calling you by your true name,” Richard’s second in command, Rhys, said from directly behind him. “Demon.”

  “Whatever name you choose for me is of little importance. You should be more interested in what I can do for you.”

  “We want nothing from you she-devil,” Richard said.

  She dragged a slender finger down his chest. Richard tried to raise his hand to slap her away but found he was frozen, held fast by invisible bonds.

  “Is that so? Your minds, all of them, tell a different story. Each one of you is a powerful warrior. Together you are perhaps the most potent fighting force in this war. This crusade of yours has made brothers of you, but it has also worn you thin. You are tired,” she said, weaving through the line of men as her dark magic held them immobile. She stopped in front of each man, looking deep into his eyes, taking his measure. “Tired of watching good men cut down. Tired of watching your friends waste away with disease, their minds devoured by madness. But most of all, you are tired of waiting to get your due.”

  “Lies,” Geoffrey Stark said as she passed him, but his voice lacked conviction.

  But her words were all too true. They had all started out on this journey with thoughts of securing their places in heaven, but if the last three years had shown them anything it was that hell was not some far off realm. The fires of perdition would pale in comparison to the agonies they had all endured in this infernal place.

  “I can give you all that you desire,” she said.

  “You can end the siege?” Richard asked.

  “Of course. But I can give you much more than that.”

  “What else?” he asked.

  “Riches. Power. Immortality.”

  Richard struggled to free himself from her spell, but he was hit by a powerful wave of lust as she returned to him. He imagined those red lips of hers wrapping around the length of his cock, sucking him dry.

  Those same lips curved up in a knowing smile. “Yes, that as well.”

  “And the price you ask for these precious gifts?”

  Her teasing look turned serious. “Surrender your own release, and instead offer up to me the pleasure of all the women you touch.”

  Give up his orgasm and become an incubus? He weighed the temptation of nearly limitless strength and wealth against the cost.

  “For all eternity?”

  She shook her head. “One day a woman will return your release to you. On that day you will know that your service is no longer required.”

  “It is the devil’s bargain,” Rhys called out, but his voice was heavy with the same desire that rushed through Richard. “We would be empty shells. Nothing more than pleasureless demons.”

  Ashira rubbed her breast with her hand as she looked up and down Richard’s Welsh friend. “Not pleasureless. You would still feel the ecstasy of every lick and stroke, but there will be no release.” She turned and rubbed her ass against Richards’s groin for emphasis. His cock was close to bursting. “Just think of the comforts that could be bought with all that wealth. Enough to fill a hundred lifetimes.”

  Richard swallowed hard. He knew some of his men would be persuaded by this creature’s promises of treasure and power. He didn’t fault them, but it was the thought of immortality that swayed Richard to Ashira’s side. He had lost half of his fighting force since leaving the shores of England, and he would gladly let heaven damn him if it meant he didn’t have to lose another friend.

  “Spare my men, even any who don’t agree, and I will accept your deal,” Richard said.

  Ashira smiled, and her look changed to one of pure hunger. She fell to her knees before him. She pulled at his chausses, freeing his cock. Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips.

  “Then you are mine.” Her mouth descended on him, taking his full length in a single motion.

  Richard groaned as her wet tongue encircled him. Her cheeks pulled in as she sucked hard on his shaft.

  Realizing he was free from her divine bondage, Richard brutally grasped on to her long fall of golden hair and held her head still. Her glittering, purple-colored eyes looked up at him. Their corners lifted. She approved of his show of control.

  He surged again and again into her mouth. He waited for the telltale sounds of her throat’s resistance, but she took all of him without complaint. He could feel the power surging through her body. His heart began to pound to the beat of it. He thrust in time to the primal rhythm. Her long fingers bit into the flesh of his hips, holding him as mercilessly as he held her.

  He had gone past the usual point of climax, but she continued to pull the dark pleasure from him.

  “Do you swear to serve me?” Her voice was clear in his mind even though her lips were wrapped tight around him.

  “I swear,” Richard said through gritted teeth.

  White-hot ecstasy overtook him. His release gushed down her throat. Roaring out into the dark night, he came his last.

  Richard staggered backwards, and away from the creature he had entered into this damnable pact with. His skin felt branded by her touch. He opened and closed his fist, marveling at the feel of unnatural strength flowing into his body.

  Then Richard watched as all eight others took their turn with Ashira.

  Enjoy Dark Mercy now!

  EXCERPT: The Demon’s Bargain

  By Lisa Alder

  Earth 2025

  Subtle light flickered aga
inst the black walls. Blood red velvet drapes hung at the windows and let in the fading rays of the sun. While flames licked at the soot-stained stone, Vetis, Demon of Corruption, lounged in the velvet upholstered chair, one leg flung over the ornately carved wooden arm, and stared disinterestedly at the destructive, seductive beauty of the flames.

  Gods, he needed a distraction. A challenge.

  Prince Gaap had ordered them all to gather as much human energy as possible to prepare for an imminent attack by the Fae. Intelligence suggested the Fae would advance soon. The Demons had to be ready. A battle was coming. He understood. And he would fight to the death before he spent another moment trapped beneath the Earth again. But Vetis was deadly bored with siphoning the energy from dissolute humans bent on destroying their lives with greed.

  “A visitor, my Lord.” His current butler, Figgins, bowed.

  “Who is it?” Did he even want to know? He swallowed the compulsion to send away without an audience whoever chose to disturb him.

  “Edward, the gambler, sir.”

  Vetis sighed.

  The sod was trying his patience. The man owed Vetis. That was what happened when you bargained with a Demon...and lost.

  “Get a cell ready.” He would draw the energy generated by the man’s fear and be done with him.

  “Yes, my Lord.” Figgins clicked his heels together. “Shall I show them in?”

  “Them?”

  “Ah, yes. He has...a lady with him.”

  Stupid sod. He thought to trade another for his debt. How many freaking times had these ignorant humans thought they could get away with cheating a demon? Would they never learn?

  “Show them in.”

  “Very good sir.”

  Figgins opened the grand doors to his chamber with a flourish. A sudden rush of cool air swept through the room and the velvet curtains swayed as if heralding a sea change.

  Towing a reluctant woman along in his wake, the fool gambler strode in as if he owned the castle. His hard-soled shoes clicked along the stone floor, the harder tap of her stilettos a counter beat to the gambler’s stride.

  Still slouched on his throne chair, Vetis observed them.

  Edward the gambler fairly vibrated with energy, radiating an excitement strangely at odds with his predicament. He saw no fear in the man. His thoughts were full of only anticipation.

  Yawn.

  So Vetis turned his gaze to the woman. She’d been dressed up like a hooker on the walk. Black stiletto heels, a black micro-mini so short he was sure if she turned around, he’d be able to see the globes of her ass peeking out the bottom, her wares on display. The black halter top was cut down to her belly button, in a wide V, displaying a decent set of breasts. Large, round, real, her nipples poked the black material but there was no doubt it was not from arousal.

  Her face was like stone. Sharp caramel eyebrows over a long blade of a nose and a cupid’s bow mouth the angels would have wept for, except for the fact that she was not smiling. Her angelic blond hair tumbled down her back.

  But what drew him was her eyes.

  Not one single emotion betrayed her. Her gaze was flat, blue, empty. When he probed her mind, he saw...nothing.

  How curious. As the Demon of Corruption, his goal in life was to make people do things against their nature. But first he needed to know their nature. Her mind was blank. Too blank.

  “You think to bring me a prostitute to pay off your debt?”

  By only a flicker of her eyelid did she reveal her distress. Not a prostitute then.

  “No, no.” The gambler laughed and a hint of nervousness finally edged into his mind. He pinched the woman, hard, on her arm. “This is my wife. Smile, dear.”

  The woman’s x-rated mouth remained still.

  “Your wife?” Vetis said flatly. He pressed his mouth into a straight line. It was nearly impossible to corrupt one already so depraved as to offer his wife to a Demon. Now if the gambler had protested, it would have been fun to demand her as payment. But this, this was annoying.

  This...insect dared to try to dupe him?

  “And why did you bring her with you?” Vetis slumped even further in the chair, shifting his weight to put his chin on his fist. Come, you ass. Show me your true colors so I can decide what your punishment shall be. And how I can reap the energy from your psyche.

  “I would offer her to you.”

  “I see.” Vetis blinked slowly. The woman hadn’t made any movement. None. She was preternaturally still. And her mind continued to stay amazingly blank. He had no idea if the man’s offer repulsed her or aroused her. Absolutely none.

  What an interesting turn of events.

  “Come closer, sweet.” He crooked a single finger at her, watching her dead eyes. The burning wood crackled, sparks flaring in the still silent cavern of a room as the earthy aroma of peat wafted lazily through the air.

  The woman didn’t move.

  “Is she drugged?” Vetis asked with pretended idleness. He couldn’t say why the thought enraged him, but Vetis suddenly wished the man would answer yes, just so he could hurt him.

  Edward shifted, his body turned toward the fire as if mesmerized. “No, my Lord.” He pushed his bride toward Vetis without so much as a flinch. “Go to him.”

  She shuffled toward him in the stilettos, her gait uneven, as if she were unaccustomed to walking in the sharp heels. The sacrificial woman hesitated at the two-tiered dais that held his chair.

  “Come, come, up the steps.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. Still no emotion. Still no feeling. And apparently she was mute. After another moment of hesitation she placed one foot daintily in front of the other until she stood directly in front of him.

  Up close he could see the makeup slathered over her face. Rouge painted her cheeks, deathly pale beneath the false front. Her mouth, the pouty, puffy lips glossed shiny and slick, trembled.

  Finally emotion. Energy he could feed off of. Fear? Desire?

  Vetis tested the air, sniffing delicately to sense her mood. Besides an overabundance of some blowsy floral perfume, nothing else scented the air.

  “Of course, I can’t make a decision until I sample the merchandise.” He rubbed his fingers against his thumb, then wiggled his digits, like a safecracker getting ready to breach a vault. Vetis slid his palm inside the slinky halter top and brushed a thumb against her nipple.

  The woman’s skin was frigid.

  As cold as her ice blue eyes.

  Even in the heat of his room, she was nearly frozen. She didn’t react. Not one flicker of emotion crossed her face. With the exception of that slight tremble in her lips and the barest flinch of an eyelid earlier, she showed no reaction. She remained perfectly still while he brushed his thumb against the hard point.

  He slid his other hand between her knees and with a gentle press, indicated she spread her legs. The skin of her inner thigh was soft as the down feathers that stuffed the comforter on his bed. Slowly, he slid his fingers toward her mound.

  No underwear blocked his path. Wiry curls protected her feminine slit. He rubbed his fingers over her. Nothing. No juice wet his hand. The little nub of her clitoris was cold and dry against his fingertips.

  He couldn’t take his gaze away from hers.

  She was like a giant void. He had to wonder, as she stood without protest against his intimate invasion. What would it take to corrupt her?

  Tucked into leather breeches, his cock lay flaccid against his stomach. He waited for some sort of response. If nothing else she’d be good for a few blow jobs. He imagined his cock ramming in and out of her mouth, fucking her throat, until he came jetting down into her body.

  And still his body remained limp, uninterested.

  Gods, this boredom was killing him.

  The sensible, the logical move would be to send the woman home and feed off the sick energy pouring from the gambler. But, her absolute lack of emotion was like a siren, tempting him toward an uncertain path and payout. He wanted to corrupt her, wan
ted to harness her energy.

  Prince Gaap would clearly advocate for the former.

  But Vetis needed something. Needed a challenge.

  The woman stood straight and still while he tested her indifference. With one hand he cupped her breast while he trailed the other back down her thigh.

  He probed her mind again. And finally, he saw.

  Enjoy The Demon’s Bargain now!

  EXCERPT: Master of My Surrender

  By LGC Smith

  With all the melodrama of a forties film star, I clutched my robe together and summoned a look of high dudgeon. All I got for my trouble was a bark of laughter.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Rafe covered my hands with his and pried the robe loose from my grip. “I didn’t get a good look at those magnificent breasts in any kind of decent light.”

  He spread the material wide, and I let him. In part because I was too flummoxed to stop him, and in part because I wanted him to look at me. I wanted to see what the sight of my naked flesh did to him.

  It put fire in his eyes. And his cock, if the rapidly swelling bulge in his crotch was any indication.

  He pushed the robe off my shoulders, then pulled it tight at waist level, trapping my arms against my body so that they pushed my breasts up.

  “Lovely.” Lust darkened his voice.

  I felt objectified. Entirely. And I loved it.

  Heat flashed through me again with the thrill of his appreciation of my body.

  “What I’d like to do to these breasts.” With his free hand, he hooked one nipple between two fingers and pinched.

  Both of my nipples contracted further, even though he only touched the tip of my left breast. I stared into his eyes, caught by the strength of desire I found there. All I could think about was how he might play with my breasts.