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Bound By Desire (The Acadian Curse) Page 8


  She was close to the edge. Against his word he ignored her little shivers and shakes, those involuntary movements that she could not control. He wasn't interested in technical victories.

  Grant pressed down hard with his tongue, roughly lapping at the most sensitive part of her. She cried out again and again.

  The creature inside him rushed to the surface. The grip on her legs tightened. He drew her clit into his mouth and sucked, hard.

  Her muscles convulsed and her back buckled, coming off the bed in a perfect arch. He felt every part of her tense and release as pleasure swept through her body. He felt it almost as keenly as she did.

  Yes. That was what he wanted.

  He came to his feet, pulling her limp body up with him as he went.

  "I tried," she said weakly.

  "No excuses.” His voice was deep and gravelly. "You had your turn, and now I will have mine."

  He turned her around so that she faced the wall. Her arms shook with the strain of trying to support her weight on the mattress. He pressed on her back a little harder and she collapsed, leaving her ass high in the air. He bent down as drew his tongue along the curve. He smiled as she squealed in surprise.

  "What are you going to do?" she asked, too weak and pleasure sated to resist.

  "I am going to take what's mine."

  He stroked the length of his hard cock against her cunt, coating it with her wetness. Her moans were hesitant as he rubbed against her clit, as if she knew her pussy wasn't what he wanted. Not this time.

  When he was slick enough, he lifted the tip of his cock to the tight opening of her ass. Her body was spent, but there was still a little resistance in her.

  She'd never done this before, he realized through the haze of lust.

  He put his hand against the small of her back and gently caressed the muscles there. After a minute, he felt her loosen. He pressed forward, and she tensed again. He alternately soothed and took, until he had inched his way inside her.

  He growled in victory as his hips pressed against her hips. She was so tight around him, growing tighter with every passing second.

  He didn’t need to look at the windows to know the darkness had finally overtaken the last of the daylight. He felt it deep within his veins, in every beat of his heart. The power of the curse flowed through him. His skin stung as it was pulled taut. His muscles swelled.

  Grant didn’t fight it. He let it flow through him. This was who he was, who he was meant to be. With her.

  The desire to move, to grind and flex, claim and take, was strong, but he fought it. Her body couldn't take it.

  Not yet. Another minute and her body would accept him fully. It would relax and soften to him. It would submit and give him everything he needed.

  His legs trembled as he stood still. Her body quivered but slowly it relaxed. Her breath changed from frantic to the pants of desire. She began to squirm her ass against him, looking for more sensation.

  He granted her request.

  Slowly he drew out, testing her. Then he sank back in. A little further this time, a little more the next. She yielded to him a little more with every movement, every stroke.

  She sighed, deep and long, as he pulled from her completely and sank back in again.

  Her legs began to shake, and he wrapped his hands around her hips bearing her weight up with his hands.

  His flesh slapped against hers. The springs of the bed groaned and creaked beneath them. Her moans had diminished to nothing more than breathy sighs as pleasure overtook thought.

  She was part of him now. In this moment she was his. There were no defenses, no guards. Just sensation. Pleasure, and pain and desire. He gave everything he had to her. He held on, letting her feel everything that her body could bear. Pressing her past her limits. And she was strong enough to want it. To take it. To take him.

  The friction between them became unbearable. He had no idea how long he was there, sawing in and out of her body, but eventually the pleasure grew too keen. Need overwhelmed him.

  He came, grasping onto her and growling until his body collapsed on top of hers. Again and again he shot his cum inside her, primitively marking her as his and his alone.

  He waited until the last of the shocks of pleasure had subsided. He gathered her soft and sated body up in his arms. Only then did he pull the blankets around them. After a few minutes her breath slowed and calmed. Her heartbeat slowed. She was his.

  He was hers.

  He lay there in her bed, knowing that he could go, that there was no force in the world that could stop him. There were no chains around him, no reinforced steel doors or five-inch thick slabs of concrete holding him back. But he didn't want to.

  He was exactly where he wanted to be.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.” Grant’s deep voice greeted Sarah as she opened her eyes. It was a sound that she was pretty sure that she could get used to. “Do you always sleep this late?”

  She rolled over in her bed to look at the clock. It was only five past seven. “Yeah, I’m a real slug-a-bed.”

  Grant held out a mug of steaming coffee. Well, that was worth getting up for. Sarah sat up and accepted her reward.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” Grant said. “Though it did take me a while to figure out how to work that ancient coffee maker. Does your father ever throw anything away?”

  “Not really. He passed that on to me, I’m afraid. I’m determined to make things work,” she said, her words full of meaning.

  Grant grinned. “You still believe that we can make this thing work between us.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t think that a relationship would be too risky?”

  “Every relationship is risky,” Sarah said with a laugh. “Let me fill you in on how things usually go for those of us not haunted by voodoo curses. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes we find a way to work it out and sometimes we don’t. We get hurt. We love too hard and we get our hearts broken. But every now and again something comes along that’s worth fighting for.”

  “And you think we are worth fighting for?”

  “I do.” She nodded. A little glimmer hope burst to life inside her.

  He took another sip of coffee.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because I like you Grant. All of you.”

  “So what are you suggesting?”

  “Just that we treat each other like adults. No secrets. No lies. If something is bothering us, we deal with it. We don’t let it simmer under the surface. We have to be honest with each other, no matter what. I can’t see this working any other way.”

  “Sounds fair.” Grant nodded. “And what about after your father comes back from vacation?”

  “I live less than three hours away. I know it’s not ideal, but we can make it work.”

  “So you’re not going to take over your dad’s practice?” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, enough to give her hope.

  Sarah shrugged. She threw back the covers and stood. “Maybe. Probably. I’ve really enjoyed being back here. But I have another year before I have to decide. That gives us plenty of time for us to take things slow and see how things work out.”

  “I like slow,” he said and fixed her with a sexy stare. “Well, sometimes I do.”

  “Good.” Sarah found her silk robe and wrapped it around her. “Then I’ll take my time making breakfast this morning.”

  “You’re going to cook for a change?” He sounded surprised. “I won’t fight you on that.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

  Keep reading for excerpts from more stories by Rebecca Lyndon, Delilah Clare and Lisa Alder.

  EXCERPT: Dark Mercy (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. Go
oseflesh 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.

  EXCERPT: A Lady Bound

  By Delilah Clare

  Lord Dowerdon spoke softly. “There is a vignette inside the wood for those who tread off the beaten path. It is quiet there. There is a bench where you may sit unobserved while you recover your sensibilities.”

  “What is the vignette?” she asked breathlessly, whether from dread or anticipation she could not quite tell.

  “It is a scene of punishment. A woman stands there alone. Bound. Blindfolded. Waiting.”

  They stepped beneath the canopy of oaks, still in full leaf and rustling lightly in the breeze high up in their branches. “Waiting for what?”

  He brushed aside a withy and led her forward along a narrow path. “Whatever comes.”

  A shiver rippled down Hettie’s spine. “Why is she punished?”

  “I do not know the particulars in t
his case. Perhaps she displeased her lord somehow. Though it is possible that he simply felt her to be in want of greater humility.”

  “A man punishes her? Her husband?”

  He paused. “It is a vignette. No more.”

  “Is she a widow then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But this is something she chose. The woman being punished?”

  “None at Barrowton Hall are ever coerced. Unless that is what they wish.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s not my place to say. All will become clear, my lady. Do not fret. Please. I should not have spoken. Ah, here is the bench we seek.” He led her into a small glade where a sturdy oaken seat was tucked up against the trunk of a stout tree. “If you sit here, as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you will be able to discern the woman of whom I spoke across that blackberry bramble. The canes will keep any other visitors away from you. Aside from the lady, who may hear us speaking now, none will know you are here.”

  Hettie quickly disengaged her hand from his arm and sat. He placed the cup and water jug beside her, then stood back. “Do you wish for me to stay for a time?”

  To watch a bound woman raped by any who happened upon her? Well, not raped, she supposed, if the lady had willingly placed herself here. But used. Possibly harshly. Without knowing who used her. Such a . . . disturbing idea.

  Hettie shook her head, then realized he might not have been able to see her in the dark shadows beneath the oak. “No, my lord. I believe I need a few minutes alone. Thank you for showing me here. I am quite sure I can find my way back along the path when I am ready.”

  “You will be completely safe, my lady. In this you may trust.” He bowed, and then melted into the night.

  Hettie closed her eyes, but that did not stop the parade of images she had seen that night from flashing through her mind. So she opened them instead, and tried to focus in the quiet night sounds to calm her. It wasn’t at all cold, fortunately, especially not in the protection of the wood. On the whole, it was very quiet and peaceful. When the light wind stirred the high branches, she could see the stars peeking at her from the heavens. Crickets chirped, and she heard the soft crackle of mouse feet racing over fallen leaves.