MIAMI MASTERS

Thursday, May 25, 2017

MATE WITH ME, my only paranormal, is now on Kindle Unlimited!  This is your chance to read this 120,000+ word novel for free.

AMAZON

"I thought this was an amazing read...I enjoyed it and listed it as a favorite!"  Long & Short Reviews

"It has been a very long time since I got so lost in a book that I literally forgot what time it was.  I couldn't put it down."  Tiffany, Amazon customer

I hope you enjoy this short excerpt...

Damien felt his incisors threaten to emerge when she caressed her mark, an action that did nothing to ease the demanding, erotic pulse in his palm or the erection he’s been sporting since he spotted her driving up.  “Stop that,” he ordered gruffly.  “It won’t do any good, so leave it be.”

“Why?  What will help this ache?  You’ve never told me what these signs mean, but I can guess.  We’re supposed to be together, Damien.  You know it, I know it.  Why are you fighting it?”

Damien had to steel himself against the tears threatening to spill down her flushed cheeks and the urge to throw her down on the two hundred-year- old area rug and fuck her senseless.  Turning away from her, he struggled to get himself under control.  Striding over to a small sidebar kept stocked for appearances, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp, an action he would pay for later.  While he didn’t need food or beverages to live, he could swallow small amounts of both without any discomfiting side effects.   

“We can’t be together and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter, Abrielle.  Go home, forget last night ever happened and we’ll go back to being friends.”

“Friends,” she sneered at his back, her heart breaking.  He had given her everything she ever wanted, yet now he withheld the one thing she wanted more than anything else.  “Are you going to continue taking me to movies you don’t want to see, out for pizza and ice cream you don’t eat?  I’m not a child anymore.”

The vivid image of her sprawled naked, her fingers moving in and out of her pink, wet sheath, would be forever imprinted on his brain, a constant reminder she was a woman, his mate.  Unfortunately, that image would forever be paired with the image of another young, vibrant woman, a woman who hadn’t looked near as beautiful as Abby after she climaxed under him and then died in his arms.  Aside from Isabelle and Marie, she was the only woman he had taken blood from and to stick to that resolve, he had to deny himself the one thing he wanted above all others-his mate.  He knew from listening to and watching his brethren with their mates that along with the urge to fuck came an equally strong urge to taste the sweet elixir of their chosen one’s blood, an act that enhances the pleasure and bond.  Maybe combining the two, sex and taking her blood, was different with one’s mate.  His friends said it was so, but they were never driven to the depths of madness Isabelle had driven him, and didn’t have the consequences of those actions haunting them as he did.

“I know you’re not a child anymore.  As an adult, you should realize, and accept you can’t have everything you want.  Go home, Abby,” he told her, feeling old and tired.

He was shutting himself off from her, his back rigid, his shoulders stiff as he waited for her to obey.  But she wasn’t giving up yet.  She had seen enough of him last night to see how much he wanted her, how much he desired her.  She refused to admit defeat now without one last ditched effort to get him to change his mind.  Unbuttoning her white blouse, she shoved it open, unhooked the front clasp of her bra and let it hang open, revealing her breasts before saying, “Turn around and tell me to my face you don’t want me, that you want me to leave.”

Taking a deep breath to fortify himself one more time, he turned to face her, cursing a blue streak when he saw her cupping her full, naked breasts, her fingers toying with her pretty pink nipples.  “God damn it, you don’t know what you’re doing.  Get dressed,” he bit out as he used herculean effort to keep from shoving her hands aside and replacing them with his own. 

With a soft laugh she taunted, “I’ve been touching myself for several years now.  I assure you, I know what I’m doing.”  Her gaze shifted down to his crotch where his erection was blatant proof he wanted her.  “See, you do want me.”

Damien realized he would have to take harsh measures to deter her, measures she won’t like, but he sure as hell will.  He knew his anger over being driven to this was reflected in the reddish hue glowing in his brown eyes, but it was time she knew exactly who, or what, she was dealing with.  Lifting his lips just enough to have the pointed tips of his incisors visible, he stalked to her with slow menace.  “You should know better than to bait a monster.  You’ve claimed you know what I am, but you’ve never actually seen proof, have you?”

Abrielle’s first instinct was to flee, to run out of fear of the unknown, but something kept her rooted in place, some sixth sense that told her he would never harm her.  His eyes had an eerie reddish tint and the glimpse of sharp white fangs sent a tremor through her, but surprisingly not one of fear.  Her pussy, already damp from playing with her nipples, from having those glowing eyes on her nakedness, elicited a gush of moisture as she imagined those sharp teeth piercing her skin as she bucked under his hard body, pinned by both his cock and his teeth impaling her.

“You don’t scare me, Damien,” she said when he stopped right in front of her, forcing her to look up, way up, into his handsome, tortured face.  “You might be vampire, but you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Ah, but there are all kinds of pain, aren’t there my little one?”  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her over to the small settee facing the black marble fireplace.  Without giving her a chance to back out, he sat down and hauled her unceremoniously over his thighs, flipping up her long skirt and shoving down her thong panties so fast all she could do was stutter in shock.

The first slap landed with a loud smack on her right buttock, the pain hot and sharp, surprise and humiliation making her squirm.  “Ow!  Damn it, that hurt.  Let me up.”  She struggled to rise with her breathless demanded.

“No,” he answered implacably, pinning her thrashing legs with his left leg and holding her shoulders down with his right hand while he delivered another solid blow on her left cheek.  “More than you need to learn to obey me, you need to learn there can be dire consequences if you don’t.”  Damien swatted her twice more, the sight of her bouncing, lily white ass turning pink with each one, making him wonder if it would be him who had to deal with these consequences more than her.  His hard cock pressed with insistent painfulness against his zipper, his palm ached with hard, erotic throbbing, and he wanted nothing more than to sink between those now damp folds.  Cursing at that telltale, unexpected response, he slapped her ass several more times, each one a little harder.

Abby cried out as he peppered her buttocks with fast, hard smacks, her inclination to shift away from his descending hand unconsciously switching to lifting her hips to meet each strike.  As the shock from her predicament waned, she realized the heat encompassing her buttocks had spread down to her pussy, the tingling, throbbing pain making her ache for more.  Grinding her pelvis against his hard thigh, she whimpered as that slight friction had her pussy throbbing in tune with her ass and the mark on her breast.

“Damien,” she moaned lowly, not understanding how this humiliating experience could turn her on.  Confused by her response to the pain and vulnerability, she only knew she didn’t want it to stop.

Damien couldn’t see her face through the mink curtain of her long hair, but he couldn’t resist the plea in her tone, the telltale sheen coating her labia or the way she lifted for his next smack then ground down on his leg after he delivered it.  “You weren’t supposed to like this, Abby,” he muttered with a self-deprecating laugh.  “You always were wild and unpredictable.”

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