(Warning: Adult content)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
BOUND TO HER MASTER
Erotic
Romance| BDSM | M/F| Fantasy |
Pregnant and on the run, Maddie literally races away from one set of problems only to run right into another when she accidentally plunges through a portal to another land. In the seventh realm, breathtakingly gorgeous demigods embrace ancient traditions of Dominance and sexual slavery...and she is about to become the most sought-after captive of all.
Stepanyan is in his time of ascension, ready to claim his father's place as ruler of the high seat. When his rival for the realm tries to claim a lost, pregnant human wandering in the Shogran, Stepanyan swoops the fiery beauty out from under him. He has no desire for a pleasure slave, but keeping Vo'Dan from getting what he wants is too great a temptation to ignore. No matter that Stepanyan's father banned pleasure slaves from the house decades before. Or that taking on a subservient is the last distraction he needs as he faces the trials of ascension.
Maddie is shocked to learn that "posing" as his sex slave, when eyes and ears are everywhere and ready to sell out any hint of deception, means she must play her role in every sense--chains, gag, and all. But it's the only way to avoid becoming the true sex toy of the likes of Vo'Dan, who would use and exploit her in ways much less accommodating than Stepanyan is prepared to be. And while she must surrender to him fully, Stepanyan must attempt to surrender to the dark, intimate pleasures of Cerunnon Dominance without losing his heart to forbidden emotions in the process.
Excerpt:
“Matron,
remove the blindfold,” Stepanyan said. “And for her sake, I hope my joona has learned a lesson about the
insolence of meeting the eyes of a god.”
The knot was untied, and while she very much wanted to tell Stepanyan just what he could do with his “lessons,” she took the hint and trained her eyes low when the blindfold came away. This left her staring at a narrow waist encased in snug, black knit. Below that, Stepanyan’s black leather pants were tight enough to make a woman drool. Not that she had any intention of doing so.
“Good,” he said. “Perhaps she has learned after all.”
She could feel his eyes on her, and she let hers wander up just high enough to see where his shirt’s deeply slashed neckline revealed chest hair and the top of a six-pack she very much remembered. He looked like a disco dancer had collided with a biker. Or maybe more like an expensive gigolo. Either way, he looked good.
Her gaze kept desperately trying to bounce up to his face, so rather than make that mistake again in front of the others, she shut her eyes.
“Leave us,” he barked flatly, and she heard the others file out and shut the door. Then came the sound of his footfalls walking away, across the room.
Finally, they were alone. Now they could drop the pretenses.
When she opened her eyes again, she got her first look at where she’d been brought. It was no bedroom. There was no bed, only the large, wooden chair Stepanyan was headed for in the middle of the room. It was raised up on a dais, looking like some kind of dark, sadistic throne.
Her instincts about a dungeon seemed to be accurate. There were no guillotines or stretching racks, but there was a lot of stone, and she was chained to the floor and ceiling. The walls were lined with a wicked display of whips, studded collars, and other implements, and heavy wooden cabinetry in the corner looked like it might contain any manner of small torture devices.
She would have swallowed, but she had no spit. What kind of man had she fallen into the hands of?
When she let her eyes stray to where she wasn’t supposed to look, Stepanyan’s face was impassive as he sat on his throne, staring at her. How smug he came off, sitting there with his arms draped over the chair arms and his long legs crossed at the knee.
Their eyes met, and her pulse jumped at the fiery challenge she saw in his crystalline, green stare. She met that challenge by lifting her chin, but she kept quiet.
He rose and came toward her slowly, still staring at her with a rather annoying gleam of victory. At least maybe now he’d let her out of the ridiculous chains.
He stopped in front of her. Very close in front of her. God, her memory hadn’t quite held on to how damn handsome he was. Her mind’s eye had lost all the little details that made him so strikingly attractive. He had those kaleidoscope eyes, which were currently swirling with bright greens. There was a strong chin and the silky, multicolored hair that gave him a bad-boy rocker look, especially coupled with the leather pants. And the odd almost-glow that had come off the men’s skin in the desert still surrounded him here, despite the absence of sunlight. The mirage-like ripple made her feel a little dizzy when she stared too long. He might be impressively male, but he wasn’t strictly human. Maybe the whole “I’m a god” thing wasn’t a male ego trip after all.
Without a word, he reached out and gave the ribbon bow across her chest a slow, teasing pull. She scowled and pulled on her chains, and a flash of anger shot through her when she saw just how pleased with himself he looked. Then he released the shoulder ties, first one side, and then the other. The fabric fell to the floor by her feet, and he took a long, lingering look at what the sheer gold veiling barely covered.
She stopped yanking her chains when she realized her precarious position. With her arms stretched upward, the hem of her short dress had already hiked dangerously close to her lack of underwear. Another inch would be all it took to expose her bare pussy curls.
“Seems I have stolen quite a fine prize indeed,” he said. “I have awaited our time together with much anticipation.”
“Very funny,” she said, all patience for this lost. “No one’s here now. Let me go. The game is over.”
His smile dissolved. “Is that what you think this is?”
“Of course. A twisted, ridiculous game.” She glanced downward. “With really slutty costuming.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~