Obsession #1

Home Invasion
Exclusive Library
Joshua is losing it. Stuck in the house with his oblivious father, he’s hoping to get through the winter break without making a complete ass out of himself. His unnatural attraction has only gotten worse with time, and nothing he does can curb his obsession.

Kyle Wright can’t figure out why Joshy has gotten so quiet lately. Worried that college has been too hard on his son, he’s determined to make the holidays fun for the both of them.

That Christmas evening, when dusk is darkening the sky, a stranger visits the Wright’s home wearing a Santa hat and carrying a gun. Bound and forced to submit to the thief’s depraved demands, the Wright men try to find a way to survive the night.

Nick isn’t a saint by any means, but he might be the miracle Joshua’s been dreaming of. That is if the gunman’s ever willing to leave.

This fic is over 25,000 words and contains explicit sexual m/m content between multiple partners and graphic language. It features forced incest, first time, straight to gay, a very small amount of violence, and a HFN ending.
25,000+ wrds, Published January 15, 2017.
Heat level: XXX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT HOME INVASION

4.5 stars. You will need a cold shower after reading this one! Sadie surprises me each time I read her books, and I love that! This one was just as hot as her others but with a kinky twist that just burned up the pages. I look forward to seeing more of Josh and Kyle, and of course, Nick.
Obsession was seriously intense yet exciting. Nick’s involvement in the story heightened the intensity of the unfolding events making it more dangerous, edgy yet forbidden. A crazy, life threatening situation turns into something dirty, twisted and hot. Sadie’s books never disappoint and this one was no exception.
Sadie Sins never fails to amaze me. Joshua is infatuated with his dad Kyle. The guilt and shame Joshua feels gets stronger as you read. With Kyle there is the fear for his son’s safety and mental wellbeing. Then you have his guilt on top of that. The strongest emotion of all is how much Joshua and Kyle love each other. What intrigued me most though was Nick. What made him chose that house? What made him linger before Joshua showed up? I can’t wait to learn more as this series unfolds. As usual, Sadie Sins not only gives you a great read, but also leaves you waiting for more. Always delivers a story that is unique and full of life. I highly recommend all of her books.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Why couldn’t this damn holiday be over already?

Joshua gave Max a final ruffle to his golden fur that was currently dusted in snow, then shooed the dog towards the garage where it could dry off without making a mess of the house. His father was at the mailbox down their long, flat driveway, peering into the small metal container with a contemplative look on his face. They had managed to ignore mail for the entire week of Joshua’s winter vacation, but apparently Christmas Eve had been the deciding factor for his dad to tackle the growing pile. He wanted to celebrate the holidays without having to think of any bills or thank-you notes.

Joshua’s nerves were at their breaking point. He couldn’t even blame it on the holiday. No, it had been a subdued affair this year. His dad knew college was crushing him and had insisted on just having the time for the two of them. The woman his father had been seeing for the last few months hadn’t worked out. Joshua didn’t know if he was relieved or frustrated by it all. The longer he was left alone with his dad, the more stressed he was getting.

His dad was great, just to be clear. Kyle Wright was about the most perfect man ever—hell, a superman even. Joshua’s mother had passed away over ten years ago, but his dad had never faltered once. No, he had gotten an extra job and then clawed tooth and nail to the top of the tech industry so that he could have time to spend with his son instead of leaving him at the neighbors all the time. Joshua was super proud of his dad. Which was why it sucked extra that it was awkward as fuck to be around him.

He didn’t want to ruin the holidays—not that he was enjoying things much. No, even though his goal was to not to bring it up, Joshua couldn’t make his brain stick to that rule. It kept spinning around in his mind, again and again.

He might be gay… Gay, or really confused. Gay, or at least interested in being fucked.

Probably gay. Maybe.

Tearing his mittens from his hands, Joshua pulled his keys from his pocket and made his half-frozen fingers open the front door. The heat of the house hit him square in the face, and he paused. It felt nearly suffocating when stepping in compared to the crisp winter air outside. The snow he had barely noticed began to immediately melt, creating rivulets of water that dripped down his hair and face he had to blink away from his eyes.

Joshua had caught his dad, well, jerking off that summer break. Awkward. Really fucking awkward. See, there had been this magazine. One of those magazines that existed for one reason, and it wasn’t for reading the articles. He still wasn’t sure where his dad had gotten it… He still wasn’t sure about a lot of things. Joshua had walked past the bathroom one morning only to find the door ajar and his father staring at a magazine. Staring at it while touching himself.

It had been the first dick besides his own he had seen in real life, and for some confusing reason, it had been fascinating. So large when fully erect, so thick and turgid as his father’s strong hand had moved confidently up and down the flushed length. Joshua had suspected he might like boys as well as girls before then. In that moment, he realized just how attractive a man was. A large, fully developed, muscle rippling man with a dick the length of a ruler.

He had watched, silent, saliva filling his mouth, hyper-alert to every sound his father made. The soft grunts, low, masculine sighs, and noise of his lubed cock sliding and then slapping louder in his fist when he pumped in earnest. The growl his father had released right before he came had sent such intense shivers through him that Joshua still had the bad habit of getting hard whenever he heard his father growl at something in anger.

Just thinking about it now got him so hard. Hard and panting and wishing he could stop this insanity. Not that it had been the last time he had tried to spy on his father that summer. No, his curiosity had not been sated by one very dirty peep show. And dirty it had been. His father had blown his load all over the pages, Joshua seeking out the ruined magazine in curiosity once his father had left.

He had turned to the page Kyle had been looking at, identifying it as the one coated in thick streaks of his semen. Joshua had assumed he’d find a woman that looked a bit like his late mother, or maybe even the very large breasted one on the cover coated in clear latex who had displayed every inch of herself with fingers splaying her inner lips. No, not on that page. His father’s choice had been far more revealing in ways Joshua still couldn’t get his mind around. It had been of a brunette bent forward on knees, the camera focused on a toned back where his hands were bound in rope. His legs had been spread wide to straddle the hips of an unseen man whose hands were holding his cheeks open wide for the camera.

It had started Joshua’s fascination with two subjects that had yet to bore him no matter how much he researched: bondage and anal sex. Gay anal sex.

The familiar wash of desire and shame hit him full force. He groaned softly and leaned his weight against the front door until it shut tight. He still wouldn’t call himself gay… Not really. He didn’t think of guys that way… A lot. Fuck, okay, just sometimes he really wondered what his dad thought of guys like that. It always got him so hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about it until he got off.

He could count on his left hand how many times he had actually dared to buy a dirty magazine and leave it out in the hopes of his father doing it again. He knew he was sick—he fucking knew it—and he was grateful that Kyle had never risen to the bait. Because if he had… Fuck, he never would have stopped trying to lure him. It had gotten to the point that Joshua had fantasies of coating himself in pages of filthy magazines if only to get his father to look at him the way he had been looking at that image.

There was something wrong with him. Really fucking wrong with him. In that one moment, he had stopped seeing Kyle Wright as just a father. Instead, he had seen him as a sexual being and hadn’t been able to differentiate since.

Not just any sexual being. His. Connected and existing just for him with the most beautiful blue eyes ever.

Stepping into the house, Joshua kicked his snow-coated boots off. He bent over, clunking the wet footwear together until they were free of the quickly melting slush, then placed them on the rubber mat by the wall right in front of the heater vent. His heavy winter coat ended up hanging above on the series of hooks just for that purpose. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of his father through the window in the growing dusk outside, the blond man’s rugged, handsome face fixed on the mail as he slowly drifted down the snow coated driveway.

It wasn’t hard for his dad to be a sexual figure if he were honest. Kyle wasn’t old the way a lot of his friends’ dads were old, and not just because he had only been 24 when he had started a family. He was still fit, still sharp witted and jovial. Kyle could catch him in a joke faster than anyone else, and race him for a soccer ball and still win if Joshua didn’t try his hardest. His dad worked out, ate healthy, took care of himself. He even dated, a bittersweet occurrence for Joshua. Recently, he half hoped Kyle would find someone while cheering inwardly when he didn’t. Stupid—He knew it was fucking stupid, and selfish, and damn crazy.

He would do anything to make his dad happy, even if it meant never bringing any of this stuff up. He wasn’t ever going to tell him how messed up he felt—He didn’t need to burden his father with something that weighed so heavy on his own heart. A part of him was certain the only reason he wanted to talk to Kyle about his confusions over his sexuality was because he was secretly hoping he would start looking at him as available sexually. Joshua knew he was fucked up and he couldn’t even trust his motives when it came to his dad.

It wasn’t normal; he knew that. There was nothing normal about it at all. It didn’t stop the feelings, though. No matter how much he yelled at himself in his head, nothing stopped how crazy he felt. How hot he got just being in the same room as his dad, how much he thought of the man’s body, his dick, that growl whenever he masturbated. Joshua knew it was wrong and he couldn’t stop it, and he really needed for Christmas to be over so he could get the fuck out of the house and away from his unbearably sexy dad.

Going away to college hadn’t fixed anything. Joshua had tried to hook up with a guy just to see. He had thought maybe he could get it out of his system, but all his timid experimentations with a boy his age had proven to be boring and lacking in the fire he got from his very active imagination. He had even considered hitting on his teacher who was about his dad’s age but, well, the guy was married, for starters, and it just kind of went downhill after that.

Coming home to his dad with no one there to interrupt, to distract, to be witness to the insane lust burning in him had been the worst. Knowing Kyle was sleeping just feet down the hall had made everything so difficult. Every time he touched himself while lying in bed, the level of danger had grown. It would have been nothing to let his moans ring out. So easy to gasp and cry for relief until his father heard him and came to see what was wrong. And once he was there, Joshua would beg him to stay, just to stand there and watch while he touched himself. Maybe even have him come closer, touch him, taste… cover him in his hot cum like the pages of that magazine.

No, it hadn’t gotten better at all.

Returning home with such crazed thoughts had filled him with even worse guilt. His dad had clearly missed him and was woefully oblivious to just how fucked up he was. Kyle was hanging in there, putting up a strong front, but Joshua could tell. They used to do everything together. But going off to college had grown Joshua’s lust into something damn near insatiable and bigger than him. It had made everything so awkward. Even if his dad didn’t understand why, he just couldn’t change the fact that it was never going to not be awkward. Not when he had spent half the walk that evening staring at his dad’s ass and wondering if the man had ever fucked a guy.

Had he? That magazine had been full of women and some men, but his dad had gotten off on looking at the guy. He had chosen to drizzle cum all over that picture out of all the ones available. It had to mean something.

Dripping water onto the floor, Joshua’s socked feet slipped on the tile at the base of the carpeted stairs before he peeled them free from his clammy toes. He paused once reaching the top of the steps, the Christmas tree lights casting a soft, magical glow in the otherwise dark, empty space.

They lived in what average people would call a mansion. It was too big, too empty, but his father said it was an investment in real estate more than anything else. Joshua had grown used to it, even if the place still gave him the creeps when it was dark out and he was alone. It was partly why they had gotten Max when he was a kid. He barely remembered their last house, the one his mom had died in from a carbon monoxide leak from their old, faulty heater. Kyle insisted in having a CO detector in every room of the house now, just to be safe.

The carpet was quickly growing damp beneath his feet. Joshua shucked off his jeans, his mind hot on a shower. The material was half frozen, sticking to his chilled thighs as he tugged the jeans down and off. He rolled his pants up with his socks into a ball and tucked it all under his arm. He just needed a fresh towel and he’d be able to warm the hell up and jerk. God, he needed to fucking cum so bad. Returning home had put him in a near permanent state of arousal that no amount of masturbating seemed to be able to alleviate fully.

He ran his free hand over his erection through his red briefs, his steps faltering for a moment in the hall that led to the bedrooms. His father had just done laundry… Just, the idea of going into his room while hard and thinking of him was probably crossing a line.

The garage door gave a shudder right before it opened, echoing quietly through the house. Kyle was seeing to Max. Joshua could probably get off on his father’s bed and have time to clean up the mess if he was fast enough. Just thinking about it made his balls ache. It’s not like his dad would know. It’s not like he didn’t come all over the shower walls just anticipating his father was going to be in there after…

No, there was nothing normal about it. He had some fucked up obsession that he was losing control over.

His mind was hot with inappropriate thoughts and Joshua twisted the hem of his shirt and tried to take it off one handed as he walked. His shirt obscuring his vision, he didn’t see the man standing in his father’s bedroom, the tall figure between him and the pile of clean laundry on the bed.

“Damn.”

Freezing, Joshua realized with a stutter to his heart that the voice had come from in front of him and not behind. He slowly lowered his arm, unwittingly ruffling his dirty blond hair up as he pulled his shirt free and got a good look at the stranger. There was a click, and his eyes widened to take in the gun pointed at his head.

 

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Taken By Beasts

A M/M Erotic Halloween Collection
$3.99
This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.
66,000+ wrds, Published October 28, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT TAKEN BY BEASTS

on June 17, 2017
This was a really sexually erotic series of stories that was full of the paranormal and very entertaining. Vampires, thralls, werewolves, magicians, shifters and mythical creatures..Menage’ is part of some of the stories and the sexual encounters are really hot. An excellent book. Would recommend it for anyone to read.
on October 30, 2016
Incredibly awesome, hot and steamy. Multiple books but all were well written erotic shorts, guaranteed to get you a little wet in the pants
on June 1, 2017

I love this story collection. It has five wonderful stories, each one taking place on Halloween night. If I have to pick a favorite, it is the final story in the collection, a werewolf story that intrigued me and pulled me in from word one. I just loved the way the story unfolded, so perfectly through dark and shadow, the main character so haunted by howls and laughter in the woods. The writing in this one was some of the best I’ve seen by this author. (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…

Right?

Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.

***

He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

 

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The Autumn Prince

An Elfin Romance
Exclusive Library
Forced to cross an elf-infested forest on the worst night possible, Eaves Sheridan’s journey grows more deadly when he comes across Tiernan, the Autumn prince. Injured, drugged, and furious, the freshly rescued elf prince is determined to find out just who Eaves is and if the human is the true villain behind his abduction.

Eaves has been hiding from the fae that live in the forest around his village, knowing if his secret is discovered, they’ll kill him. With a Truthseer on the way and guards all around, his chances of escape are slim.

Tiernan is to be wed that very night and Eaves is left at a crossroads. Return to the life he was certain he only ever wanted or give into the wildness he feels every time he hears the prince’s heart beat.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, suggestions of multiple partners, and some violence. Over 36,000 words long.

36,000+ wrds, Published September 9, 2016.
Heat level: X



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT THE AUTUMN PRINCE

on November 3, 2016
I love Sadie’s take on fantasy. Hot elves, one confused halfling and a fateful trip through the forest make for a story that kept me up waaaaay past my bedtime (sleep is overrated anyway?). I will most certainly read her revamped storyline when it comes out, I can’t wait.
on September 11, 2016
I’ve been serial reading Sadie Sin this week and she is awesome. Her characters lure you in and make your heart race. Every book designed to give you a reminder of why Kindle’s are a addicting: instant gratification. In her latest work, The Autumn Prince, Sins is giving us a break from her nail biting, Kindle tossing cliffhanger’s. Focusing on a man who’s been hiding his true nature his entire life, afraid if someone discovers his secret he’ll die. The Autumn Prince is a story about a kind hearted halfling who’s a badass with a temper, a Prince with a filthy mouth, and how these two come to meet.
on September 13, 2016
Once again Sadie delivers. I love her books and the way she tells her stories, and this one is no exception. To date my absolute favorite is still Demon Arms, if you haven’t read it I highly recommend it. In any event you can’t go wrong with any of her books.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

The night was alive with great power. The sky was full of the chill energy of the late season, when fires lit the sky and burned the leaves crisp and brown. It was the flash of life, snuffed out and crackling raw as winter came close to claim it silent. Eaves was familiar with this feeling, the tightness in his chest, the prickling of his senses, the racing of his blood as night sang through him.

He had watched young and old alike come alive, flush rushing across their skin to glow warm, eyes alight and reflecting the mad ache of things that could only be felt and never fully understood. They were compelled, dancing in this power, kneeling in the dirt. Some were driven to the brink of madness, and some lifted further still by Siren’s call moaning through the restless wind. Not all humans were struck, but the ones with remnants of the old blood were destined to answer the call tonight.

As for the beings brimming with the same blood, ancient as the night and the moon that ruled it, they joined their voices in wild chorus to fill the wind with the madness that only All Hollows Eve could bring.

Wild. Raw. Insane. Each chill breath stung Eaves’ lungs and set him free. Each long stride brought him deeper into the dark forest and away from the structure and bars that only humans could create. Each movement undid him. His humanity unwound from him like a cloak, stripped him of his order beneath his well controlled glamours. He’d known this feeling many times in the safety of his studio with a brush in hand and a large assortments of colors laid out before him, but never within the forest. He had never been so brash to travel here when the Ancients were calling. Tricksters, thieves, death dealers; this was their hour. Among them, Eaves feared it would be his as well.

Eaves did not fear the Ancients in the way the humans he lived among did. He had no false delusions of them either, like the whimsical daydreamers that would skirt the edge of the trees, looking for adventure with a stray nymph. Their dangers and their treasures were as clear to him as the stars in the cloudless sky. He had no fascination or prejudice for them. Of the supernatural beings that he had met, all had gleamed his indifference from his aura as simply as one smelling a scent and let him be. Tonight, he found, was not to be the same.

It was not a full shock, given the way his heart was aflame as dark settled around him. Eaves had never walked the woods when the madness had been so close, thrumming in his veins, pulsing in his throat as if its fiery burn had taken over what his heart once was. Perhaps it had. There were very few of what Eaves was, killed before a chance to grow to his twenty some years and impressive physical strength. He had no one to ask if the madness was to be expected as he walked the woods. The one before him might know, but to reveal what Eaves was would be to signal for an undesired death.

The elf stood tall and willowy even though the well fitted armor he wore was undoubtedly heavy. Eyes the crisp gray of a clouded morning, he had taken one shrewd look at Eaves from behind the torch he held in hand and had seen something no one else had noticed of the young man in his years of walking the Earth. With the intricate crest of the Autumn Guard flickering gold on his sword and chest plate, the sixth sense must have been trained in the elf the same way a child learns mathematics. Looking at Eaves, the elf could see numbers were not adding up.

“Your business,” the elf demanded with all the affluence of the high bloods speaking to dust that had ended up on their robes. The tone always made Eaves bristle, but tonight was not the time to indulge in mockery and most likely a scuffle with an empowered beanpole. Granted, Eaves was nearly the same impressive height but his time around the short humans had created a familiar vision of society he was hard pressed to replace with lanky, graceful snobs with familiar wildness in their eyes.

Honesty was Eaves’s nature, but annoyance and the sing of fire in his veins made him abrupt. “I have no business here. I am passing through.”

Cracking his long, dark braid forward, the elf glowered, piercing eyes accessing, judging. “None pass through Aurian, mortal. It is the forest’s choice whether to give you passage and tonight she is intent on celebration. You’ve chosen a poor time for travel. I suggest you return the way you came and wait it out like the rest of your kind.”

Eaves did not step back at the prodding of the elf, the tall creature’s mouth hardening at the realization that his intimidation had fallen short. The human traveler seemed more a wild jackal than a man, dressed in black with shoulder length dark curls unruly and windswept and a week’s worth of stubble rough on his jaw. He was built human, wide shoulders and thick thighs lacking the compact grace of the elves, even for such a tall stature, but there was something wrong about him. Something that made the elf consider the ease of which it would be to just slew the man before him now. The human’s eyes were light as sky, nearly winter’s color, and not belonging in any mortal’s face.

“Why have you come here tonight? Your dress is not worthy of our festival,” the elf said, taking in the mud stained traveling cloak, frayed boots, and unruly hair the man wore. “Or is it your intent to steal from the Autumn Prince when he will be preoccupied with merriment and ceremony? I am of his guard and will rightfully kill you now, if warranted.”

Eaves considered himself a cautious person, keeping his head down and mouth shut when needed. Elves were dangerous, and the one before him guarded a prince, making him deadly. Of course, the guard could have just run him through on principle alone, so in that regard, Eaves found him to be at the very least patient. Eaves would show similar restraint, even with the wind whirling his blood into a frenzy of wild energy.

Looking the guard in the eye, Eaves tried again. “I am passing through to Warden’s Path. Nothing more. I have no interest in your autumn festivals, only to be on my way. My sister has fallen ill and needs my assistance.”

Leaves rattled under the elf’s soft shoes, too slow to blow free from the swift predator. And predator he was for Eaves recognized his ilk deep within the gaze that was currently trying to deduce his motives. Elves were not all flowers and gentleness. The Autumn Guard especially were known for their wild ruthlessness, matched only by the frozen mercy of the Winter Blade. Eaves birth had fallen on the cusp of the two destructive seasons, autumn full of fire and passion, and winter an all encompassing eternity of cruelty. If Eaves had been of the elves, he would have been cast into the ether with the other wild entities that had no symbol to identify them, too raw for the complexities that life called for. Elves were not beings to be trifled with.

Eaves knew the elf noticed something in him but not what. Hopefully it would remain that way. He had never faced the Autumn Guard but he suspected that they would be the ones to kill him if he was recognized for what he truly was.

“You carry no medicine,” the elf finally pointed out, not exactly happy to allow the man passage. The festival always drew the worst of trouble as it was, and he did not like the idea of stray humans mucking up their elaborate ceremonies.

Eaves saw that he was winning and pushed his voice into something nearly warm. “I’m afraid I have little skill in healing. My brother-in-law has requested me because there is none other with the time to look after the children while he’s away gathering the last harvest. Time is essential, as I’m sure you understand. Winter is fast coming and the crops will be ruined if he cannot get to them.”

Somehow the circumstances only aroused more suspicion from the guard. “What sort of man are you, being called to care for children? Your wife should be at your side. Or are all your women prone to sickness? If that is the case, you should be with her, and not risking your life on such a night.”

“I am the sort of man that has no wife, nor wish for one,” Eaves snapped, raising his chin defiantly while internally cursing his temper. He was not himself tonight, tongue included. The elf met his glare, understanding flashing over his face before quickly disappearing within his emotionless expression. Eaves didn’t know, nor did he care to know, what elves thought of men laying with men. It was taboo enough among humans outside of his village, and he should have just kept his mouth shut.

“My sister is not prone to illness,” Eaves continued, hoping to change the subject to something less likely to get him slayed. “She is a hearty woman with a strong mind. Her family depends on her and I love her dearly. Nannying and weatherproofing their estate is hardly a lot to ask, even with the three days journey on foot. A journey I would like to continue,” he added tightly.

Eying him head to toe again, the elf responded, not in any way Eaves had expected. “I know a woman… a human. She is very delicate compared to my kind, and quick to dismiss my concerns.”

Realizing the elf was looking for some sort of assurance of his lady love, Eaves offered it reluctantly. He knew firsthand the tragedies that came from elves mating with humans, and had no interest in encouraging such a union. “We are a varied species. My sister looks nearly as fragile as a spring bloom, but she is still resilient and stubbornly willful.”

The bright moonlight revealed a softening of the elf’s features, although not completely lax. His guard was always up, which was why he was in the profession he was. “This is good. My love has been very quiet lately, the winter coming quickly. I fear her neighbors have been giving her grief for knowing me.”

Happy that the elf had finally lowered the hand that held his sword, Eaves was blunt. “I have heard of the results of such unions, usually with the woman cast out from her home and village, exiled out of fear and ignorance. Further East they will kill any woman known to have lain with an elf. Any resulting child does not last long.”

“Yes, I have heard of this too.” The elf worried his lip, his eyes darkening as shadows danced across his fierce features. “I want to ask her to join me and my people. She wishes for a child but my people frown on such an entity. I fear she will choose against it.”

Eaves almost asked if the elf would destroy any child he sired, human or not, but kept himself in check. “Get her a dog,” he said flatly, stepping smoothly around the tall intrusion. He had no head for conversation tonight, worry and the energy in the air making him want to move, and roar, and nothing more. The line of conversation was too personal and dangerous to indulge in anyways.

“A small beast to care for… That may work.” Eyes focusing, the guard found the man had gone. He whirled, a grimace on his face. “Hold! We have yet to decide the conditions of your travel.”

Sighing, Eaves paused and turned back. “What conditions would those be, good elf?” He asked with frustration clear in his voice.

“You are not to leave the main road or socialize with any of those attending the festivals, unless they have sought you out specifically.”

Eaves fought down a snort. As if he’d want to socialize with any of them! “Anything else?”

“Yes.” The elf’s eyes narrowed at the tone of disrespect. “I am called Gilroy. If you run across another of my crest, inform them that I have allowed you passage. If you run across any that are of a crest, but not of the Autumn Guard, I suggest you continue to run, for your life will certainly be forfeit.”

Taking a long assessing look at the brown haired, gray-eyed fae who looked to quietly manifest the madness singing in his own body, Eaves internally shivered at the implications. Elves battling for territory was not a place anyone wanted to be found in, especially when the battle would be with the oncoming Winter Blade. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He bowed briefly to the elf and turned on his heel, making his way down the path before another could try and stop him.

“Stay to the left fork, mortal,” the elf called as Eaves disappeared into the darkness.

Gilroy stared long into the dark, listening for sounds that did not come. The mortal was more a specter than a man, but he had not discerned any ill will. His instincts warned of the odd appearance of a human traveling alone on this of all nights with no weapon or power to protect him that could be seen. Only a fool would be so blithe, and the brief conversation had led Gilroy to believe the man was hardly dim witted. He hoped he would not find himself regretting his decision to let the stranger pass.

 

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Demon Bonded : Episode #8

The Demon Trainer
$0.00
Episode #8. A teacher more twisted than his student…

Ky and Liem rush to save Brave. Tobias Godwin is a demon trainer of dark notoriety. The few demons he allows to survive are sought after by the wealthy and powerful. A rebellious Relic like Brave won’t live long in the sorcerer’s care.

Ky can’t trust Liem to go against his master, and once they cross into Tobias’s domain, Ky is cut off from the protection of his demons. Something takes Ky over in the mansion the longer he’s surrounded by the frightened slaves. Ky’s powerless to fight it as his body once again demands to bond.

When Brave is at the brink of death, Ky must finally decide if he’s willing to kill to save, or if he’ll let the demons he promised to protect die.

Each episode in this sexy, suspenseful gay monster harem serial is over 10,000 words, and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.
14,000+ wrds, First Published August 5, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DEMON BONDED #8

on March 21, 2017
on August 16, 2016
on November 4, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

His mother’s green Toyota was crowded with Liem in the passenger seat. Sure, the apprentice was slender and petite and took up less space than Ky did, but it felt weird. Wrong. Ky wasn’t remotely comfortable around Liem after what he did to Brave, the terrible things he said to him, or how he tried to steal Magnificent Night. He and Liem might share a common goal at the moment, but Ky would be hard pressed to call him friend. He could barely think of Liem as human; he was that cruel and ever ready with a lie or trick.

“So, what’s your sorcerer teacher like?” Ky asked in the hopes of breaking the awkward silence between them. He insisted on driving even though Liem wanted to teleport them. Ky didn’t have a clue how to teleport. Being reliant on the apprentice for transportation while in a foreign place could be outright dangerous, no matter how many times Liem rolled his eyes at him like he was an idiot.

“My master.” Liem turned his head from the window to look at Ky. “Master Tobias is a master sorcerer and has earned his title. It’s important you address him properly.”

“I’m not calling him fucking master.” Ky’s glare dared Liem to challenge him on it. As the sorcerer who trained Liem, Tobias was probably just as bad, maybe even more.

“Then refer to him as Master Godwin—because he’s a master sorcerer, not because he’s your master, idiot,” Liem added when Ky made a noise of protest. “This is normal stuff, man. You just don’t know because you’re ignorant as fuck.”

Ky bit his tongue and gripped the steering wheel painfully tight as he took the next corner. Night was dark around them, and the quiet streets of Blackstone Falls extra empty at the current hour. If he tossed Liem out the car and kept driving, he doubted anyone would be able to prove it.

“Does he have a lot of apprentices?” Ky asked tightly, trying to derail his angry thoughts.

“Fuck, no. Do you think a guy like Master Tobias has time to teach every snot-nosed sorcerer wanna-be who figures out how to make a wand?” Liem snorted. “I’m his very first. He put it off for ages because he was so caught up in building his business. Being selected is a real honor.”

“Business?” Ky tore his eyes from the road to glance over at the slim apprentice. Liem looked deceptively young and sweet for all the terrible just beneath his surface. “Like a magic business?”

“Sure, but better. Any two-bit sorcerer can start a magic business,” Liem said with a wave of his hand. “Master Tobias trains demons, and only for the most important of people. Diplomats, CEO’s, celebrities. He’s about as famous as it gets for this particular thing.”

Ky inhaled deeply as his stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot. “What… What do these people want demons for? They’re not sorcerers. What do they do with them if not use their magic?”

“Protection, mostly. Demons make great bodyguards if they’re trained right. Some people just like that the demons are rare and no one else has them.” Liem shifted in his seat and hunched forward until his bangs covered his eyes. “And some people like to fuck them. Some want to kill them, or just nearly. A demon can take a lot more pain than a human. You can do anything to a demon, and the law won’t get involved. Demons have no rights. Hell, most people don’t even know they exist. If Master Tobias didn’t spell them so people could see, normal people would never know a demon was standing right beside them.”

Ky’s stomach lurched, and his knuckles turned white from the tension in his hand. “Slavery. Your master is a slaver of demons.”

Liem raised a brow and glanced his way. “Well, yeah, demons are rare. Did you think they’re allowed to walk around everywhere? People would be fighting each other to get them. It would be chaos.”

Ky snarled and abruptly slammed his foot on the brake. The car fishtailed in a squeal of tires, then jerked roughly to a stop. The hum of crickets filled the air as they sat on the dark road. “You mean people would be running around shitless because all the demons would be hunting down the asshole sorcerers who sold them into slavery. Being from another world doesn’t justify what you’re doing to them!”

Liem huffed and shrugged back against his seat. “When you meet Master Tobias, you’ll understand. No demon is going to fight him; they know he’s stronger. He’s killed more demons than I’ve seen in my entire life, and that was just during my apprenticeship with him. At least the demon slaves are allowed to live.”

Ky stopped trying to get his shaking hands to cooperate, hissed, and shot Liem a deadly glare. He paused when he found Liem staring out the window, a haunted expression on his young face.

“Do you want to kill demons?” Ky dreaded the answer before the question was fully out.

Liem considered it stonily and slowly shook his head.

“Then what? Power? Do you like hurting them? What the hell do you want from them, Liem?”

“Nothing.” Liem stared intently at the darkness outside the car. “I hate them. I’d be happy if I never saw another demon ever again.”

Ky tried to read Liem’s expression when he refused to explain himself. It didn’t matter; Liem was fucked, did fucked up things, and whatever was wrong he probably brought on himself.

Ky turned his attention to the road and resumed driving. The idea of confronting this Tobias Godwin was making him more uneasy after what he learned. As his nerves grew taut, his foot pressed heavier, and the car’s speed climbed on the empty back roads. Brave was alone with some sort of demon slaver, one who murdered demons like they were nothing. This was the man who had taught Liem demons were less than human. What would such a man do when he was asked to give up one of his demons?

Ky gripped the black link connecting him to Brave and held it tight in his grasp. He was still alive. If Liem was telling the truth, as long as this link was on his collar it meant Brave was still alive.

 

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A Mate Of His Own #2

BITE: Claiming His Mate
Exclusive Library
In an instant, Shane Cooper went from rich daddy’s boy to claimed werewolf mate. Trying to come to terms with the sudden changes in his life and the devastatingly handsome boy that’s the cause of all his woes, a strange affliction befalls Shane, knocking him unconscious and forcing him into a half shift.

Ryan Moss doesn’t know what’s wrong with his new mate, but he’s quick to blame himself. Shane’s body keeps changing even though his bite has taken hold, the full moon bringing out a shift in his human mate that shouldn’t be possible. Certain Shane will die if a solution isn’t found, Ryan must find his reclusive brother while avoiding his old pack that would rather kill him than welcome him back into their territory.

The packs’ pagan superstitions are back to haunt Ryan while he watches his mate struggle to survive. Shane’s inner turmoil could very well destroy the boy along with the spirit wolf he holds within.

23,000+ wrds, Published July 1, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BITE

TOP 100 REVIEWERon October 18, 2016
Love this series and can’t wait for the 3rd book to come out. THIS is what the shifter genre is all about. I’m tired of reading sappy, nice romance novels that happen to feature a guy who can change into an animal.
on November 30, 2016
I love Sadie’s books and this one didn’t disappoint: it was hot, steamy, exciting and intense.
Ryan and Shane had crazy, explosive chemistry – I couldn’t stop fanning myself throughout. As events unfolded, my heart started pounding and I found myself gripping the edge of my seat. The characters emotions and fears were captured beautifully. This book was dirty, wild and damn sexy.
Loved it and wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it.
on August 20, 2016
I enjoyed the growth of the relationship between Ryan and Shane, and Shane coming to terms with his feelings. Can’t wait for the next installment.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

The drive had been full of an intense, silent energy that was quickly growing unbearable the longer Shane sat parked on top of Ryan’s dirt driveway under the thick canopy of oak and pine trees. He needed to say something. He needed to do something. He just had no fucking idea what. He was in the car with his werewolf mate and Shane was completely lost.

He couldn’t stop the crazy butterflies fluttering in his stomach. His teeth were itching, saliva building in his mouth at the very idea of biting Ryan Moss on the neck and claiming him back as his mate. Ditching class, he had led the dark haired, tanned werewolf to his secluded Charger, having parked under the trees and away from any stray door that could ruin the sparkling copper and black paint job. Still, once in his car, Ryan sitting a foot or so away on his front side passenger seat, Shane was again all nerves and doubt. The drive had been full of him testing questions in his head he never actually dared to speak and watching Ryan out of the corner of his eye as the brunette blatantly stared back at him.

A week ago when Ryan had taken everything he had wanted from him, things had been confusing and yet perfect all at once. Partly because Shane had felt trapped—He had literally been tied up by the lust crazed werewolf, locked in Ryan’s dark basement like something out of a horror movie. Just, it hadn’t felt like a horror movie, not really. Maybe more like a low budget porno where the big twist was he was being fucked by a wolf shifter. A shifter with so much animalistic charisma that Shane had finally given in to the possibility that he might not be as straight as he had once been certain of.

There was just something about Ryan. Noble, quiet, intelligent, and athletic—All traits that used to annoy the fucking shit out of him. Still did, actually. Shane was pretty sure even if he decided to bite the kid’s throat and claim him as his own, he’d still find Ryan Moss annoyingly perfect at every turn. Even in looks—Fuck, especially in looks. The brunette dressed practically in rags with his torn jeans and thin t-shirt but managed to look gorgeous, his windswept black hair teasing bangs across his eyes, his sharp jaw and cheekbones making the light blue of his gaze burn crystal beneath dark brows and thick lashes. Ryan might have been a werewolf but he was all man, over six feet tall with a tanned, toned, muscular build that Shane had found himself admiring on more than one rather confusing, blood boiling occasion.

In the light of day and outside of Ryan’s basement, the blond had to face the fact that this really devastatingly handsome werewolf wanted him as a mate and a part of him strongly returned the sentiment.

What the fuck was he supposed to do? Really? It was all up to him and he just felt frozen in indecision. Why exactly did he want to bite Ryan? What would being a mate to a werewolf really mean, especially to a male werewolf? What the hell had he gotten himself into by not running out the door the moment he had seen Ryan step into class that day?

“Your scent is different from last time,” Ryan finally spoke when Shane continued to shoot him sideway glances and refused to move. The werewolf’s voice was so deep and low it could have been a caress. The brunette’s muscles had puffed up again, the boy giving off such an intense, sexually charged scent, it was a wonder Ryan could smell Shane at all. But it was clear he could, the boy dipping closer, pressing his face to the skin of Shane’s throat and inhaling deeply. It sent a shudder of heat through the blond, Shane’s hand reaching up to grasp the werewolf’s bicep, the flesh hard and straining under Ryan’s t-shirt.

Shane kept his eyes closed, his confused thoughts slowly slipping away the longer he pressed against Ryan’s hot form. Touch was grounding. Ryan’s solid, sweat-damp flesh and hard muscles were very real even if Shane felt somewhat lost and out of his depth. He breathed in deep, their chests brushing from his inhale.

“You smell the same,” Shane finally whispered, daring to open his eyes to find Ryan’s ice-blue orbs fringed in black staring back at him. The boy was still full of the wolf, the heat having made Ryan more aggressive and animalistic. Shane was certain because before Ryan Moss had gone into heat he never had suspected the boy was a werewolf. He had always been quiet, smart, and patient; Ryan had never been the kind of crazy, aggressive fucker that screamed of testosterone driven wolf. Now that he knew, it was a thrill to discover such power and need hiding right beneath the brunette’s calm, familiar surface. It was as if Ryan’s animal had come out just for him and there was something totally sexy about it.

Ryan gave a slow smile, revealing unnaturally sharp fangs as his gaze swept down Shane’s form. “You recognize my scent, babe? After only one day together?”

Shane nodded, blushing slightly. “Is that weird?”

“I have no clue,” Ryan answered honestly. “Never had a mate before. It’s kind of a one-time thing with wolves. And it’s not like I’ve spent a lot of time with my pack asking about this stuff.” He paused, leaning forward again, Shane holding his breath when lips brushed lightly against the corner of his mouth. “I know it makes me happy. I’m really happy to have you recognize me.”

Something warm welled up in Shane’s chest and before he realized it, he was fumbling backward, the car door biting into his back as he tried to put some distance between them. Ryan watched him silently, a bemused smirk gracing his lips when the blond flushed and ducked his head.

“I… um…” Shane couldn’t meet the boy’s gaze, his mouth unbearably dry all of a sudden. God, what the fuck was he doing? What were his parents going to say when they found out he had been bitten by a werewolf? A male werewolf. Ryan’s hand brushed over his knee and Shane exhaled shakily. A really fucking gay werewolf.

Was he gay? Wanting to let a guy fuck him would probably mean he was totally gay. God, he really couldn’t be gay.

“You going to sit in the car all day?”

Shane shook his head, not willing to explain himself as he tried to ignore the heat radiating off of Ryan’s hand. He could barely think properly but he was pretty sure he was fucking up his entire life. His father was going to kill him if he came home gay. Not just gay, but mated to a werewolf. Wolf shifters were outcasts at the very least, total crazy ass killers at the worst. Was he going to, like, move out into the wilds with Ryan? Give up on his plans of running one of his father’s companies? Stop competing in swimming—Did werewolves swim? Would he have to give up his car in some weird equality to animals thing and start hunting or some shit?

Ryan continued to watch, Shane’s expression growing more and more distressed as the silence stretched on. He could scent the anxiety coming from the boy and could see it in the way Shane’s breath was strained and huffing too fast. He snagged the blond’s chin, Shane gasping as he was pulled from his anxious thoughts right into Ryan’s eyes. Ryan’s grin spread wide the longer Shane blushed, the blond’s glare narrowing angrily in response.

“Sexy, didn’t you just kiss me? In front of a hall full of people?” Ryan reminded softly, his smile tinged with a mocking hint he did nothing to hide.

Shane huffed, looking away. “I was swept up.”

Grinning wolfishly, Ryan leaned close until Shane was forced to press back against the door or kiss the boy. Shane chose the door, his chin tilted defiantly. “Swept up with being at total fag for me, right?”

“Fuck off,” Shane growled, pushing his hands up only to pause, his palms flat against Ryan’s chest. Fuck, he was strong and it made him feel so hot. “I’m not a… Well…” He couldn’t get the word out, Ryan’s intense, burning gaze making his stomach feel like a swarm of butterflies was trying to escape. He had done a shit ton of things with Ryan he was pretty sure was defined as really, totally gay. But somehow admitting to it was just too much to face, especially when Ryan was smirking at him like a damn bastard. “You tied me up.”

“Not the whole time,” Ryan replied lowly. “Not when you were upstairs.”

Shane glared sideways, their gaze touching a moment before he looked away. Heat was pooling through him at the memory and it was only making him more flustered. “You… uh… cornered me,” he mumbled, “In the shower.”

“Is that why you started touching yourself?” Ryan taunted in his ear, Shane shivering in response. “You thought the scary werewolf was going to hurt you if you didn’t act like a total cock slut?”

“Damn you,” Shane hissed, his body jolting from the light scrape of Ryan’s teeth on his throat. “You know you’re fucking stronger than me, Moss, you fucking pain. You can’t assume I was acting out of, well…” He refused to say desire, refused to admit to anything, especially when Ryan was right there making him feel so hot and confused.

Ryan grinned, Shane feeling it against his neck. “So you only let the strong guys fuck you, babe?”

“You motherfucking ass—I’m not gay!” Snarling, Shane went to shove the brunette back only to have his wrists caught in Ryan’s vicelike grip. He gasped, his anger draining away as quickly as it took to feel the werewolf’s hard dick press against the flat planes of his abs. He fought back a whimper, Ryan’s lips teasing over his neck while the brunette yanked him forward in his grip. Before Shane knew what was happening, Ryan had his arms behind his back, his shirt ripped and pulled from him, and then his wrists bound in the fabric with quick, confident movements.

Ryan sat back, watching the emotions slowly dawn across the blond’s face. Shane pulled at his arms a few times, his cheeks and neck turning red as he blinked down at the seat when he couldn’t get free.

Trapped. He was caught, trapped, and it was spiraling a dizzying heat through him that was threatening to drown him in lust. Shane dared to peek up at Ryan, the brunette’s ever watching gaze making his mouth go dry. He had to know. Ryan had to know what he was doing to him by first baiting him to anger and then just taking all his frustrating choices away. Given the somewhat smug look in the werewolf’s eye, Shane was pretty sure Ryan knew exactly what he was doing to him, especially when his stare moved down his bare chest and abs to where Shane’s erection was tenting his jeans.

Shane held his breath when Ryan reached for him, the brunette’s fingertips teasing slowly up his side. He shivered at the realization that he couldn’t get away. That even if he wanted to, which he still wasn’t sure that he did, he was very much under Ryan’s power. The brunette’s thumb brushed his nipple, Shane hissing out in surprise. Ryan ran a circle around the nub, doing it again when the blond gave a whimper. Shane hadn’t realized his nipples were even remotely erogenous until Ryan had shown an interest in them, his chest muscles flexing with each tormenting touch.

Ryan ducked closer, watching Shane’s face as the blond stared down engrossed at what his hand was doing. Shane’s lips were parted, his brows furrowed, breath coming out in fast puffs of heat. With his short blond hair, sharp, dark eyes, and flushed skin, the boy was breathtaking as he gasped in pleasure. Ryan stilled his assault, gently squeezing Shane’s nipple between thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck,” Shane whimpered, his eyes closing as he pushed into the touch. Ryan squeezed harder, twisting until the blond released a weak moan and threw his head back.

“You are fucking gorgeous,” Ryan murmured, kissing Shane’s parted lips. The touch was feather light, Shane trying to get more contact only to have the brunette hover just out of reach. Ryan continued to torment his red bud, alternating between sharp tugs and gentle circles with his thumb while he kissed down Shane’s exposed throat.

Shane felt like he was going to hyperventilate. The last time Ryan had tied him up, the boy had been barely controlled, all desperate hard sex and crazed werewolf heat. Although certainly hard, Ryan’s movements were completely different now. Shane was forced to feel every touch, process every sensation as his nerve endings zapped just from Ryan’s shirt brushing his bare chest. Ryan’s lips tingled on his throat, Shane tilting his head even further back as teeth scraped wet across his flesh.

Shane groaned when the brunette dipped lower, silky strands of hair tickling his collarbone and bicep. Ryan’s mouth suddenly latched onto his already tingling nipple, Shane gasping and jerking from the feel of heat and wet. Teeth nipped at the bud and Shane couldn’t stop his loud cry, his back arching and nearly bucking the brunette off him from the force of the move. He could feel Ryan smile against his chest and he knew it was smug. Fuck, but he just couldn’t stop reacting to everything the boy did, be it fighting or fucking. How did Ryan do it to him every damn time?

Strong hands slid down his torso, Shane jolting when fingers slipped into his waistband and unbuttoned the clasp. He held his breath, his stomach muscles trembling with each light brush of knuckles to his flesh. He could feel sweat trickle down his back, making his flesh slippery beneath the werewolf’s hands. Ryan’s breath was molten against his neck, the brunette growling lowly as he unzipped Shane’s jeans and released his aching erection from the tight confines.

Shane blinked his eyes open when Ryan sat back, meeting the boy’s gaze with confusion. Ryan just smirked and grabbed the blond’s ankle, Shane gasping in surprise as his sneakers and socks were pulled free and thrown to the floor. Ryan tugged Shane’s jeans down his thighs immediately after, the blond left in nothing but his briefs.

Ryan was staring at him with a heavy-lidded gaze, Shane’s breathing speeding up in response to the look the werewolf was giving him. He was caught, trapped, and now nearly naked. Shane looked up at him wide-eyed, gulping as Ryan hooked a finger into the band of his underwear and slowly pulled the fabric forward. He thought Ryan might say something, might taunt him for just how crazy he was acting from just a few touches by a guy. The silence was somehow worse, Shane’s gasps filling the car as Ryan slowly worked the blond’s underwear down his damp hips and thighs. Shane was left panting, hands tied behind his back. With his golden body hair shaved for swimming, there was nothing to obscure his flushed dick rising rigid from between his thighs.

“You’re longer. A bit thicker,” Ryan finally said, glancing up from his interested perusal of Shane’s cock for confirmation.

Swallowing, Shane nodded hesitantly. Along with his dick, all of the blond’s body had changed in subtle ways after being bit by Ryan. He didn’t have a knot, thank god, but on top of feeling stronger with better endurance, he had transformed in ways only someone really familiar with his body would notice. It had only been one day together a week ago but Shane had to acknowledge that Ryan had memorized his body already.

Ryan’s hand slipped lower, his palm cupping and caressing the blond’s balls. Shane fought back a moan, his leg slipping off the seat when he spread his thighs wider to give the boy access. Ryan bent down close, breathing deep and sighing as Shane’s musk filled his senses. He growled on his exhale, Shane shuddering to feel the heat on his hip when Ryan quickly tore his underwear down the rest of the way, stripping him of the last of his clothes.

Fuck, he was going to lose his mind. Shane was hyper conscious of the fact he was naked in his car, the leather seats clinging to the back of his thighs, his arms pulled tight behind his back where they were bound. Ryan’s jeans were coarse as they scraped his legs, the boy’s hands rough and possessive as he pushed Shane’s knee up, spreading the blond open wide. It left him feeling vulnerable in a way he only ever felt with Ryan—Maybe because the werewolf kept putting him in these situations. Or more likely, because Shane had always felt raw and frayed when it came to Ryan Moss and having the boy touch him only increased that feeling tenfold.

“Wider, babe. Yeah, right there.” Glaring down at Shane’s nearly pained expression, the blond’s eyes closed and lips parted for each ragged breath, Ryan ran his hand up the boy’s inner thigh, squeezing the hard muscle. Shane groaned, jolting into his touch, a cry spilling free when Ryan suddenly folded down between his legs and licked his tongue up his dick from root to twitching tip. He paused at the top, stealing into his slit and tasting the precum beading there.

“Fuck—Oh, fuck,” Shane mumbled, sinking down the seat, his neck and shoulders scrunched uncomfortably against the door when the brunette grabbed him by the hips and wrenched him closer. He whimpered lowly with every gentle nuzzle of Ryan’s lips and nose between his thighs, his aching dick ignored, balls teased with a soft kiss right before Ryan’s wide tongue licked along his crack and plunged into his hole. “Fuck!”

Ryan hummed at the blond’s surprised yelp, using his thumbs to spread Shane’s hole open so he could drive his tongue in deep. Shane twisted and jerked beneath him but the boy had no leverage to escape, reduced to aching groans, gasping cries, and flexing feet as he was eaten out ravenously.

His hands clutching uselessly behind his back, Shane’s face and dick fought for all the blood in his body as his legs were directed over Ryan’s broad shoulders, the brunette angling him for better admittance. The werewolf kept groaning hungrily, the sound vibrating through Shane’s entire body as his hole was stretched and thoroughly lubricated with hot saliva. He was mortified; if anyone happened by the car and saw, there would be no question to what was happening. Ryan had his tongue up his ass and it was so dirty and messed up and felt, fuck, so unbelievably amazing. If anyone saw, they would know he liked it, would know that the broken cries he kept releasing were for more and deeper, and if Shane could only get his balance he’d be trying to get Ryan’s thick cock inside him again.

He could remember it so clearly—how overwhelming Ryan had felt filling his passage with his large dick. It had been too much, too long and thick and god, his knot had swollen so much. It had been a glorious insanity that Shane wasn’t sure how he’d survived. He was still confused, still unsure, but a part of him had been craving it ever since. He needed it. He needed Ryan so bad. He couldn’t understand just what the fuck was happening to him and he was certain he was going crazy.

“That’s it, you sexy little hole.” Licking the raw corner of his lips, Ryan pulled back enough to tease a finger over Shane’s wet, swollen pucker, swirling gently as he worked his way past the boy’s tight ring of muscle. He couldn’t seem to stop himself, his tongue again following and plunging deep into the blond’s hot flesh. He loved the taste of his mate, loved the moans Shane made as the boy rocked and quickly became undone with everything he did to him. Shane was his. The blond’s body knew and begged for him. He was his mate and fuck, he had missed the mouthy bastard.

Nipping Shane’s trembling inner thigh, Ryan waited for the blond to unclench once the pain faded to a burn, then immediately plunged two fingers into the boy’s hole. Shane sobbed, his body jerking uselessly as he squirmed from the sensation of his passage being filled. Ryan didn’t let up, stretching him relentlessly, gliding his thick digits in and out of the boy’s flesh to make Shane ready for his cock and knot.

God, when the angry boy had kissed him it had been the sexiest fucking thing. Almost as sexy as Shane gasping now, opening to him readily even for all his words of denial. The boy would remember once they were together again. He couldn’t expect Shane to change overnight after a lifetime of being defensive as fuck about his sexuality and talking shit about gays. Hell, they had fought since day one—And really, Ryan wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change overnight either. He liked fighting with Shane. He liked seeing the kid’s face flush in anger almost as much as it looked moaning in pleasure. Ryan had no problem taking things slow with them getting to know each other. Just as long as Shane relented to being his mate and accepted the many ways that role would be enjoyable for the two of them.

“God, Ryan, please… Fuck, please.”

Ryan couldn’t ignore the blond’s desperate cries any longer, his attention pulled up the boy’s flexing muscles. He found Shane’s handsome face, his dark eyes slitted open, cheeks flushed and streaked with tears. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was from the helplessness of the boy’s situation or just how fucking aching Shane was over him, but he loved seeing the blond fall apart. He straightened up, leaning over the boy’s crunched position, unable to stop from looking down at Shane’s quivering form a moment before meeting his smoldering eyes again. “You need it, babe? Do you need me to fill you?”

His eyes closing, Shane shuddered with a low whimper. Ryan pushed his fingers deeper into the blond’s clenching flesh, the third digit stretching him wider than before. Shane couldn’t help that he loved it just as much as he couldn’t stop how embarrassed he was by that fact. The absolute intimacy of being in the car wasn’t helping his problem. Their sweaty bodies had heated up the small space, the seat under him squeaking, Ryan’s rough jeans above him as the brunette ground his hard dick against his hip. He had been so big inside him last time. So overwhelming. Shane had barely known who he was by the end of it.

“Babe?” Ryan nipped Shane’s ear, his free hand sliding up the blond’s hard torso. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”

Forcing his eyes open, Shane met Ryan’s heated stare hesitantly. “I… I don’t know,” he whispered weakly, his lips wet and red. Ryan’s scent was everywhere, mixing with his own arousal and confusing him even more.

Ryan took in Shane’s debauched form, the blond naked, short hair mussed and expression full of torment. He was sexy as fuck and he had little interest in waiting any longer for Shane to figure his shit out. He gave a small growl, wrapping the blond around the waist and pulling him off the door and into his arms. Shane gasped, staring down blankly at the werewolf’s chest while he panted softly, Ryan’s hands moving over his back and down to his ass.

“Sexy, I have a damn good idea what you need right now and I am so fucking ready to give it to you,” Ryan murmured, exhaling unsteadily as he tasted the boy’s flesh and sweat. “You’re my mate, and you’re so hard that it has to hurt. You need me, babe. You gotta know you need me.” He peeled his own t-shirt off, half tearing it in his haste. When Ryan pressed his bare chest to Shane’s, the blond moaned and tried to push up against him tighter. “That’s right,” Ryan whispered. “This is what your mate feels like.”

Shane swallowed hard, his body burning from the feel of Ryan’s flesh. The werewolf’s hands gripped his wrists behind his back for a moment, Shane’s dick twitching in response. No choice now. No choice and, god, Ryan could do anything to him. The boy was so strong, so powerful, and he wanted only him. There was nothing he could do to stop him—Nothing he wanted to do, anyways. Shane kept silent, panting in anticipation.

His forehead resting against the blond’s, Ryan unzipped his own jeans, sliding them down his hips. He pushed his underwear aside, revealing his hard, thick dick slick with precum. The knot low on the boy’s length was already partially swollen and flushed with color. Ryan’s hand wrapped around his shaft, Shane fighting back a moan when he watched precum drizzle from the boy’s slit and drip down his flushed crown and over his fingers.

There was an unspoken question in Ryan’s eyes, one Shane was trying really hard to ignore when the brunette pushed him back against the door. Shane’s gaze kept drifting down to where Ryan was touching himself, remembering just how it had felt to have that hard length inside him. He forced his eyes up, blushing at the hungry glare fixed on him. Fuck. Fuck, he knew that look. That look had once had him begging in the shower for Ryan to fuck him. That look had gotten him so hot he had nearly let the werewolf take him in the fucking classroom. Now tied up and cornered against the door with the steering wheel restricting his movements, Shane felt the strange ache inside him grow that seemed to go hand in hand with Ryan’s burning stare.

Shane closed his eyes, groaning softly as his body responded—nipples hard, dick twitching, ass clenching—from just one damn look. There was nowhere to go. Nothing between them at all. He was naked, Ryan was dripping precum, and he knew what his mate wanted.

“Ryan,” Shane finally spoke, unable to handle the feelings welling in his body any longer. His voice sounded hoarse and strange in his ears, reflecting the desperation he was trying and failing to hide. He needed to be touched. He needed to be touched and not just stared at and left feeling so needy. He just didn’t know how to admit it.

It was some sort of signal for the werewolf, Ryan growling and straddling Shane’s waist as the blond gulped and hesitantly met glaring blue eyes. Ryan’s hips shifted forward, hot, sticky fluid dripping down both their damp skin. Shane couldn’t turn his gaze away once he looked down, his body shuddering hotly from the sight of Ryan stroking himself.

His breath coming out in ragged pants, Shane held himself still, groaning when Ryan rubbed his cock up against his abs, the brunette kneeling taller to reach his chest and smear his precum over his hot flesh so it would drip down. Fluid hit the bottom of his jaw and Shane jolted, hissing in anticipation. Ryan’s hand wrapped around the back of his head, the brunette pulling him down and guiding his mouth to the top of the werewolf’s cock.

Ryan’s dick was still too big to be normal but Shane was much less overwhelmed this time, his mouth watering from the first touch of hot flesh to his tongue. Ryan let him get used to the feel, the weight, slowly feeding him just the first few inches of his dick while the blond’s lips stretched to accommodate. Shane opened wide, running his tongue over the blunt tip, hating and loving how hot he got from sucking the boy’s dick. Fuck, but it made him hot. He teased the tip of his tongue into Ryan’s slit, groaning when he was rewarded with a hot spurt of slightly bitter liquid.

“Ryan,” Shane whimpered, craning his neck forward so he could reach more and lick down the boy’s throbbing shaft. The car was filled with the sounds of his own desperate, wet sucking and Ryan’s quiet pants for air. It made him feel dizzy, wild, Shane’s eyes closing as he gave in to the sensations he had been fighting. With dripping, trembling lips, he mouthed down the brunette’s thick cock, sucking on the swollen knot that had tormented him, laving it thoroughly with heated strokes. He wanted to make Ryan come. He wanted to get the boy so hot, he wouldn’t care just how fucking annoying Shane could be at times. And if he could get Ryan to blow like this, Shane was pretty sure it would mean he had won this round.

Growling as more of his precum streamed down his dick and streaked the blond’s face, Ryan tightened his hand in Shane’s hair. He pulled him back to the task at the top of his long length, groaning when Shane stubbornly gave a final suck to his knot in parting. Pushing his thumb between the blond’s red lips, Ryan glared down, his wolf howling to hurry up and claim the dazed, wickedly grinning boy currently teasing his tongue over the fluid wet on his fingers. Instead, he fought the urge, wanting to see just how obedient, if at all, his mate had grown since they’d been apart. He gripped the nape of Shane’s neck hard, watching the boy’s dark eyes widen for a moment before the blond opened to his thrusting cock.

Shane surrendered to the thick flesh, focusing on his lost breath and the feeling of his mouth and throat being taken by Ryan’s firm pumps. His jaw quickly grew sore, his lips weak from clenching and trying to grip the boy’s dick into his mouth. He could feel Ryan’s knot swell with every inward thrust, his precum growing thicker and more flavorful as it began to flood his mouth along with his saliva. He wanted to grab the werewolf’s legs for balance but with his hands tied, Shane was left tightening his abs to keep from falling back, his feet gripping the seat for purchase. It felt like something was melting inside him, loosening even while his erection throbbed and his hole clenched for attention. Ryan’s knot gave another twitch against his lips and Shane moaned, opening as wide as he could and trying to swallow him down.

He was going to come. God, just having Ryan’s dick in his mouth, taking his throat made him so hard he was going to come. His eyes squeezed shut, Shane tried to fight off the pressure rising in him, his moans reverberating through the brunette’s body. It was one thing to get off because Ryan was touching him, doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore the pleasure in. But to come from just the feel of the boy’s dick in his mouth? It spoke of things he didn’t want to face, things that were only getting worse with every thrust against his tonsils.

“Fuck, babe… Fuck,” Ryan rasped out, holding Shane still so he could hump deep into the boy’s throat, spurting more hot precum onto his tongue. He pulled out abruptly, his breathing strained, pupils oddly narrow as he ran his hand up and down Shane’s wet cheek and jaw, spreading the fluid that had collected down the blond’s throat. “You look so fucking sexy like this.”

Flushing, Shane looked up at him, swaying when Ryan released the grip on his face. He was aching, felt so lost and desperate and unbearably hard. He wanted release but there was no ignoring the demanding look in the werewolf’s eyes. It was inevitable. With Ryan pointing his monster sized cock at him slick with his saliva, there was only one obvious course of events.

“W-Wait,” Shane whispered, his voice cracking when Ryan pushed him back against the door.

“No. I waited a fucking week.” Ryan grabbed the boy’s throat with one hand and Shane’s leg with the other, settling between the blond’s thighs. Shane closed his eyes, the grip on his neck making him hot and weak all at once. “I waited that damn class and the drive here,” Ryan continued softer, his eyes taking in the blond’s red cheeks and swollen lips. “I waited ten fucking years for you to grow the fuck up and look at me like a man. I’m done waiting, babe. I need you and I know you need me. I know.”

Exhaling unsteadily, Shane blinked his eyes open, immediately caught in the werewolf’s gaze. Had Ryan liked him for that long? Even though he had been a total ass to the boy? Even when most days of his childhood he had felt like an absolute failure with no one that gave a fuck about him? Ryan had still seen something in him he liked?

Shane was pulled from his thoughts with a gasp, strong hands grasping his hips and pulling him up Ryan’s muscular thighs. The brunette’s dick pressed relentless between his cheeks, thick and dripping wet as it slipped and settled tight against his opening. He couldn’t stop the sudden anxiety, that same feeling of emptiness and fullness in his chest making him want to run and get as far away as possible.

“Fuck, fuck… Just hold on,” Shane whimpered, groaning when Ryan ignored him and pushed harder, his entrance slowly stretching to contain the brunette’s tip. Ryan’s hands held him in place, his hot mouth sucking at the scar where he had bitten and claimed him as his mate. Shane arched as he was breached, his breath coming out in a blast as he felt Ryan slowly and mercilessly penetrate him. “Big,” he gasped out, his head lolling back. “So big.”

“I have you,” Ryan whispered fiercely, holding the blond upright, Shane unable to do anything in his tied position besides open to him, and moan, and beg. He was trying to hold back, trying to be more considerate this time now that the crazed heat and anger had left him. But having Shane clenching around his dick, the boy’s perfect body arching and giving in to him was just too much. He’d been dreaming of this moment, had been certain he had fucked everything up, and he just needed Shane too much to slow down.

Groaning, Shane lurched forward, burying his face against the sweaty flesh of Ryan’s neck, the brunette fucking into him deeper, pumping in again and again while the blond gasped and trembled around the overwhelming sensations. Without his arms, he couldn’t get any purchase, forced to ride out every rough thrust of Ryan’s hips, his body rocking with the brunette’s hard movements. Teeth nipped at his neck and he jolted, squeezing the thick flesh filling him impossibly tight. It sent a shudder through him, knowing Ryan was inside him again, his seed soon to be slicking the walls of his tight passage, claiming him, owning him in a way he had never understood he’d wanted until a week ago.

Ryan pushed him back roughly against the door, growling as he followed right after. He spread Shane’s thighs wider and bent his knee up, gripping him tight. Shane met his piercing stare, moaning weakly when he felt Ryan’s swollen knot start to stretch into his entrance, the thick flesh forcing him wider with each agonizing thrust.

“Fuck… Oh, fuck.” Shane’s head fell back against the window, his eyelids slit as he struggled to rise above the insane feeling of Ryan working his knot into him.

“That’s it. Open to me, babe… That’s my boy.” Taking in the tears teasing down the blond’s face, Ryan lapped his tongue out and groaned as he got another inch deeper. “Missed you, sexy. Missed you so bad—Fuck.” He growled, kissing Shane’s gasping lips roughly. “You are so fucking tight for me.”

Crying out as the thick flesh surged deeper into him again, stretching him so wide, Shane’s arms flexed, something inhuman rippling through his muscles in a wave. The fabric tied around his wrists snapped, his arms automatically rising to grab Ryan’s shoulders so he could gain some leverage and relief from the insane feeling of being so full. Ryan grinned savagely and wrapped tight around the boy’s chest in response, biting the blond’s neck hard until Shane shuddered and relented. The werewolf pinned him with his body, dominating him completely with his full strength and deep thrusts, working his swollen knot into him while Shane’s moans increased in pitch.

“Fuck, that’s it… That’s it, babe.” Groaning, Ryan surged the final inch forward, settling deep into Shane’s tight passage. “Mine. You’re fucking mine.”

Shane shouted hoarsely, his hands clinging to the brunette’s wide shoulders. Ryan’s knot swelled almost immediately, locking the boy’s thick cock inside his aching channel. It was impossibly large and Shane was certain he was going to cum at any second from the sheer intensity. “Can’t—Fuck, it’s too much,” he moaned, shuddering as he felt the first splash of hot liquid inside him.

“You’re doing it,” Ryan growled, kissing the boy’s face and jaw while Shane whimpered and gasped. “You were made for me. Made for my knot. Made to be bred.” His fingers bruised into Shane’s flesh, his hips rocking erratically as he fucked the blond’s hot, tight passage, determined to fill him with every gush of his seed. Shane’s tormented cries were pure music, the boy’s body both taut with pleasure and lax in pain. Ryan reached for the blond’s dick, palming him slowly, wanting to draw Shane’s cries out as much as possible, especially when it resulted in the boy clenching on his knot, milking his cum from him with his tight passage.

“My mate,” he growled lowly, kissing the dazed boy. Shane mumbled something against his neck, the blond shuddering, sweating, jolting with every shallow hump as his prostate was stroked again and again. “You’re there, Shane… Come for me. Show me how much you love this.” He jerked Shane’s throbbing length firmly, groaning when the blond gaped wide and shouted. Ryan forced his tongue into the boy’s perfect mouth even as Shane bucked in his grasp, the blond coming all over his hand and both their stomachs. Shane whimpered against his lips as more cum streamed from him, the blond’s body tense and straining as he splattered them both.

Shane fought to breathe, Ryan’s mouth threatening to steal the last thread of his sanity. He glanced down as his moans slowly faded, shuddering when he found himself covered in pearly streams, Ryan’s chest and abdomen sticking to his. Fuck, he might not have had a knot and it might not have been to the same copious level, but he was definitely not fully human anymore.

He started, gasping as Ryan’s hot tongue dipped down, licking at the spatters of seed that had reached up his chest. Shane would have protested, tried to, but Ryan was still humping slowly into him, gushing the last of his semen into him while his strong arms held him tight. The brunette kept kissing him, tasting his cum, teasing his tingling flesh with lips and tongue and teeth. All Shane could do was sigh, waiting for the boy’s knot to fully deflate, seed dripping from between his cheeks as the werewolf devoured him at his leisure.

Ryan nipped his shoulder and Shane jerked, a wave of dizziness crashing over him. His teeth gave a strange itch, dull pain throbbing in his jaw. Bite. He needed to bite Ryan. His mate.

But it was like a commitment, wasn’t it? Like saying he was definitely gay as fuck. His dad would kill him. Coopers weren’t allowed to be gay. They weren’t allowed to be anything but perfect. Shane had never been a good Cooper and he was starting to fear that he wouldn’t be a Cooper at all for much longer.

“Babe… You okay?”

Fighting with the strange feelings inside, Shane barely heard Ryan’s voice from far away. Was he alright? He was pretty sure he was feeling good. Really good. He was a total fuck up that couldn’t do anything right but at least he felt good.

 

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Robyn

Forced To Be Their Sister
Exclusive Library
Rob has had enough of his older brothers teasing him. Just because his mother insisted he was her honorary girl when she was done raising sons didn’t mean he was an actual girl! He’s sick of being treated like a chick and he’s looking for vengeance.

Rob’s three older brother’s are sick of their little brother acting like an angry, spoiled brat. When Rob crosses the lines with another one of his childish pranks, they decide it’s time to teach their little sister a lesson in being a girl the only way three muscular, controlling guys know how.

This story is 17,000+ words long. It contains graphic language, sexually explicit content between brothers, a great corset and leather boots, spanking, and mild humiliation mixed with some tears. 18+ Only

17,000+ wrds, Published June 11, 2016.
Heat level: XX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ROBYN

Sizzling hot story with four brothers! Loved the characters and the plot. Great job!
story warning: contains incest between 4 brothers. Wheew! This was another great story by Sadie. One thing you will always get with her books, is lots of heat! The best Thing about them though, is they have an actual storyline with that sex. If you like taboo books, this one is perfect! Rob and his older brothers heat up the pages.
Shocking debauchery.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Rob had finally had enough. His assholic older brothers had crossed him for the last fucking time. The three jerks had once again—well, Frank had and he totally fucking hated Frank—Frank had said he was a girl. Worse, a cheerleader. This time in front of the entire fucking football team. The bastard had stood in front of everyone and said the reason his little brother couldn’t try out for the team was because he was really a chick and they should have him cheer instead. And then everyone had laughed. Dan, his other asshole of a brother, had laughed the loudest and even Joey, who was usually the nice one out of the three, had joined in. Whenever he was around Frank and Dan, Joey always took their side. It wasn’t fair. Rob had three older, stronger, meaner brothers and they always picked on him.

Today, he was going to show them.

Rob stalked into their family kitchen, his parents still at work and his brothers still at practice. He placed the bag of sugar he had bought at the convenience store on the table, pulling a chair out and standing on it so he could reach the higher cabinet over the fridge. Fucking Frank was always laughing about how he needed to stand on something to reach the cabinet just like their mom. But Frank was a goddamn giant, as was Dan and Joey, and normal people needed a stool to reach that high. He wasn’t short and petite, he was just being compared to fucking giants. Everyone looked like a matchstick compared to his brothers.

Grinning viciously, Rob grabbed the container of whey protein powder out of the cabinet, gasping when he fumbled the large, plastic container and nearly dropped it. Fuck, that would have been a total mess. He cradled the container to his chest as he jumped down from the chair, then headed straight for the sink.

They thought they were so fucking great with their bulging muscles and tall, athletic forms. Just because mom had wanted a girl for the longest time and used to call Rob her baby Robyn didn’t mean he was a girl. Just because she had spent the first five years of his life dressing him in pink and calling him Robyn and telling everyone he was her honorary daughter didn’t mean he was actually a fucking girl. And what the fuck did his brothers do? Did they show sympathy? Did they try and help him bulk up like them or help him practice so he could join a sport? No. They just made fun of him too, teasing him for his slender body and cute face. They were always calling him Robyn, and cutie, and their pretty sis. God, he hated them all.

Just wait until the three of them were fat and slow, then they’d wish they were even close to as skinny as he was.

Rob poured three-fourths of the protein powder straight into the sink, turning the faucet on and running the garbage disposal so it wouldn’t clog. Taking the container with him, he hefted the five-pound bag of sugar and tore at the top of the heavy paper bag. Only to scowl, his fingers not strong enough to actually rip through the thick material. Goddamn, he hated his brothers. He could just hear Dan jeering in his ear about how weak he was. He didn’t have girl’s hands!

Grabbing the nearest knife, Rob stabbed into the bag, tearing the instrument out and pouring the sugar into the nearly empty protein powder container. He didn’t need to be strong; he was fucking smart. Once the plastic jar was filled, he replaced the wide cover and gave the powder a good shake to mix the contents. He got back on the chair, putting the container back where he had found it.

His brothers mixed the stuff into everything. Everything. It wouldn’t take long before they started getting fat, then they’d see how terrible it was to make fun of someone because of their body. Rob couldn’t help that he was short and thin. It was just the way he had been born. Just because his three older brothers had been born looking like Greek gods didn’t give them the right to treat him like shit. Fuck them.

Putting the chair back, Rob had a moment of quiet worry, his gaze sliding up to the cabinet. They always mixed the powder in stuff, usually flavorful stuff because it tasted like crap. He was pretty sure none of his brothers would be able to tell.

He snorted, grabbing the empty bag of sugar and crumpling it between his hands, then stuffing it into his backpack. He’d dump the evidence at school. He didn’t want to risk anyone seeing the bag in the house trash. No, he was fucking brilliant and didn’t have to worry about shit. His older brothers were a bunch of idiot jocks. Like they’d fucking figure it out?

***

It was after five before the once nearly empty house was full, Frank, Dan, and Joey coming home, sweat still clinging to them from their time working out. They all beelined it to the kitchen, crashing through the house like a small herd of animals. Their parents wouldn’t be home till much later seeing as it was their weekly date night, meaning the boys had to fend for themselves for dinner. Rob was nowhere to be found but the sound of the shower could be heard from the downstairs bathroom. Joey’s expression was grim as he scolded the eldest of the three tall, tanned, dark-haired brothers for his earlier comment.

“You know how sensitive Robbie gets, Frank. You really shouldn’t have said that. Not in front of the entire team.” Joey’s hair was longer than the other three, black and shoulder length with a soft curl that was currently dripping sweat while he chugged a bottle of water.

Frank, the tallest and strongest of the three, looked far from apologetic as he reached above the refrigerator and grabbed the protein powder from the cabinet. His hair was short with bangs that teased over his forehead when they weren’t spiked back. “Come on, Joey, the kid gets asthma walking to the fucking mailbox. He can’t join the team. Those guys would break Rob to pieces and you know it.”

Joey flinched, his kind, gray eyes full of worry as he imagined their petite, slim-limbed brother trying to go up against an entire football team. Rob was just too small and delicate even if he was all punk attitude.

“Besides,” Frank continued, taking the glasses Dan handed him and putting the three out on the table. “You know what Johnson would pull if Rob even stepped near a fucking tryout. No way in fuck I’m letting that happen.”

At Frank’s unhelpful lack of explanation, Joey turned with furrowed brows to Dan, the youngest of the three rolling his deep blue eyes back at him.

“Seriously, Joey? Don’t you fucking pay attention? Johnson’s been perving on Robyn for a fucking year now. You really want to let that creep near our little brother?” The glass clinked, Dan stirring milk into his protein shake. “Rob doesn’t know how to handle himself with a guy like that. Johnson would have the kid stripped and on his knees sucking cock in five minutes flat.”

His spoon held in his hand like a knife, Joey pointed it straight at Dan’s face, the brunette’s expression dark. “Could you please not put that mental image in my head, asshole? I will stab that fucker if he touches my Robbie.”

Dan and Frank exchanging a silent look, Frank carefully pulled the spoon from Joey’s hand. “Yeah, well, to save you from a life sentence in prison for murder with spoon, I made sure the kid wouldn’t step near the field,” Frank said flatly, using the spoon to stir his own drink. He dumped a final scoop of powder into Joey’s glass, replacing the lid to the container. “Robyn is too sensitive for sports. Remember when he tried to play kickball, then spent an hour bawling when he stepped on that butterfly?”

“Come on, he was ten,” Joey reminded, unable to stop a small smile from gracing his lips. Robbie had always been ridiculously adorable. It was kind of hard not to pick on him. He had the cutest face and just got so worked up over everything. How could you not want to piss him off until he threw a little hissy fit? Robbie’s beautiful, violet-blue eyes would flash angrily and he’d always try to take a swing at you even though the kid had the scrawniest damn arms. Of course, it always ended in tears, the boy so emotional, he’d be hiccuping by the time the older brothers relented.

Joey admitted to a dark, secret thrill in seeing his little brother cry, especially when Robbie would cling to him for comfort after, burying his face against his chest until he finally calmed.

Joey slowly frowned, growling internally when his mind flashed for a second on Nate Johnson who had started hanging out with the three of them more, always asking to come over to the house. If that fucker so much as looked at Robbie funny, he was going to beat the guy’s face bloody. He’d beaten guys for less when it came to his little brother. All but Frank and Dan, who he shared an unspoken agreement with to back off when things got too rough when picking on their little brother.

Maybe it was time to teach Robbie how to take care of himself. If a creep like Johnson was looking at the kid…

“He asked me to show him how to get strong,” Joey said after a moment, meeting Dan and Frank’s eye as his glass was handed to him. “He wants to learn how to fight.”

“Like fuck,” Frank growled. “The kid would be fighting everyone that looked at him sideways. He’s too mouthy, too undisciplined—Way too angry all the time.”

Dan agreed with a grin, raising his glass. “Besides, if Robyn was strong, then he wouldn’t be our cute little sis anymore.” They each took a sip from their respective drinks, Joey immediately spitting his back into his cup when the overwhelming flavor of sugar hit his tongue. Frank and Dan slowly followed suit, their eyes growing dark.

“Son of a whore—Didn’t we just get this stuff?” Frank tore the lid off the protein mix, scooping the powder up and putting it in front of Joey so his brother could inspect it. It was clearly sugar, the crystals unmistakable, large and nonclumping.

“The little bitch,” Dan growled lowly.

“He must have been really pissed,” Joey muttered, going to the sink and dumping his glass down the drain. He cupped some of the running water into his hand, rinsing his mouth from the teeth-itching sweet flavor.

“Yeah, but sugar? He knows that can kill you, Joey.”

Joey shrugged but his expression was grim as he glared down while the sink drained. Robbie had never tried to get him to eat sugar before. Watching his older brother take daily injections of insulin since the age of seven had set a line none of the Conner brothers had dared to cross before. “You know how he gets when he’s angry. He forgets shit. Says and does things he doesn’t really think out.”

“I’m the one that called him a cheerleader,” Frank said with a growl, tossing the protein powder straight into the garbage bin. “He should have come at me.”

“We all use the powder. Rob knows as much,” Joey reminded reasonably. “He wasn’t just going after me.”

“Fuck, fine, what the fuck are we going to do about it?” Frank fixed his forgiving brother with a hard look. “That shit was expensive and we can’t have Robyn dosing the diabetic with a daily shot of sugar. He’s got to stop with this shit already. It’s getting old, man.”

Joey sighed, slumping against the sink. “Come on, guys, you’re just going to get the kid more upset. You can’t keep picking on him. He’s never going to grow up if you’re always on his case about shit.”

Frank and Dan exchanged another look, Dan stepping up and whispering into his taller brother’s ear. Joey watched them warily, his arms folded over his chest.

“It’s just a punishment, Joey,” Frank assured him. “So Rob won’t do it again. Think of it like training.”

“Like fuck,” Joey said with a scowl. “What are you going to do, duct tape him to the door again? Robbie was pissed for weeks and only acted out more. This prank war hasn’t helped anything.”

Snickering at the memory, Dan shook his head. The boy’s eyes were full of mischief, Joey even more anxious to see. “Nope, I think it’s time our little bro grew into a full-fledged woman.”

“Damn it. You guys know that shit pisses him off the most,” Joey growled in exasperation. “He’s tired of us calling him a girl.”

“He looks like one,” Frank said flatly. “He’s sure underhanded and bitchy like one. And if Rob keeps this shit up, we’re just going to have to treat him like the girl he is.”

Joey inhaled sharply, his stomach tightening against his will. A part of him loved the idea of Rob as a girl. It was the same part that used to love to tease the boy merciless until he’d cry and cling to him, whimpering into his shirt front. For the longest time growing up, Robyn had been their little sister and it was really hard to let go of seeing the boy silky and in pink. But Rob wasn’t a girl, he was a really angry boy who had been a total pain in the ass lately. One that he really wanted to protect from whatever revenge Frank and Dan had up their sleeve. His other brothers knew Joey could take care of himself but because of his illness, they still felt the need to overreact. Something he was pretty sure the two were going to do again as Dan suddenly bounded down the stairs and out of the front door right after flashing Frank a grin.

Fixing his remaining brother with a glare, Joey pushed himself from the sink. “What the fuck did you mean by that? What are you going to do to him?”

“You mean, what are we going to do to him.” Frank wasn’t intimidated by Joey’s scowl, returning it with a tilted chin. “You’re the one babying him, Joey. You let Rob get away with all kinds of shit.”

“I have to,” Joey said reasonably, used to this particular argument. “You guys are total asshats to him. He thinks we all hate him.”

Frank wasn’t impressed. “We just say shit, bro. Robyn’s been a total terror. He poured soda in our beds, put glue in the shampoo and I’m pretty sure he’s the one that left out Dan’s porn for mom to find. He told Jessica that we all have crabs and that—”

Joey sighed heavily, running his hand through his shoulder length hair. “Fine, I get it. He’s been a total dick lately. Just, you freaking out on him isn’t helping shit.”

Frank shrugged, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of orange juice instead. “You babying him hasn’t done shit either. You notice when it all started?”

Joey thought back but couldn’t really pinpoint when Rob had started being quite so angry. A few years back he had gotten really defiant about mom pretending he was a girl but it had only been recent that the kid had started pulling these stupid and sometimes dangerous pranks.

“Well, I noticed,” Frank spoke up when Joey didn’t have an answer. “It started when he was passed over for that bit in the school play.”

Blinking, Joey nodded after a moment in agreement. That could have been about the time.

Frank poured him a much smaller glass of juice, handing it over. When Joey went to take the glass, Frank didn’t let go, meeting his brother’s eyes steadily. “The play you prep’d him for like two weeks straight. Where he kept making doe eyes at you until you were wrapped around his finger.”

Huffing in annoyance, Joey rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, he’s a good kid. Annoying at times but he’s—”

“Joey, he’s in love with you,” Frank interrupted curtly. “Head over fucking heels. Absolutely, completely smitten with you.”

Nostrils flaring, Joey put more pressure into his grip until Frank relented the glass. He drank it down like a shot, trying to ignore the way the cold liquid felt like lead in his gut, heat rising over his skin in an anxious wave. “That’s crazy,” he finally said after the silence had stretched on too long, his voice gruff.

Frank was unaffected, looking completely at ease. “It’s pretty obvious. Robyn threw that hissy when you started dating that chick from the next town over. He sulked the entire time, you know, when he wasn’t spreading rumors about the three of us and hiding all our fucking shit. Dan figured it out before I did,” he added as if Dan thinking the same thing confirmed it all. “I was ready to hold the little brat out of a window by his ankles until Dan spoke up.”

“This is crazy,” Joey muttered, turning and rinsing his glass to give him something to do with his hands while his mind reeled. He glared over his shoulder, his expression full of accusation. “You’re just saying this shit to get me to agree to whatever terrible you’re about to do.”

“He loves you, Joe. He was auditioning for the role of a chick—”

“There weren’t any male roles!”

“Yet he still wanted to be in the fucking play,” Frank replied, his eyes narrowed on the way his brother’s face was flushed in anger. “Believe me, Robyn is in need of facing some facts about himself and that is not going to happen if you don’t face the fact that our little bro wants your dick. Bad.”

Glaring stonily out the small window that looked into their backyard, Joey held his tongue. There had been times, glances, sometimes hugs that had gone a little too long that had made him wonder. But that had been a while ago and he had told himself it had all been in his head.

“He doesn’t,” Joey said, sighing softly. “He really doesn’t and you’re going to freak him out if you suggest such a thing. The kid is angry enough, Frank.”

Giving his younger brother a calculating look, Frank tilted his head, indicating Joey should follow. After a moment, Joey did, dragging his feet as they walked down the hall past the bathroom, stopping in front of Rob’s room. There was a pretty pink unicorn superglued to the boy’s door covered in swipes of black sharpie. One of Dan’s jokes after Rob had deliberately erased one of his video game saves. Mom had set aside a room just for the girl she had always wanted. Instead, her Robyn had been born a Rob and the woman had still insisted her youngest get a room of his own. It used to be all pink until Rob had finally put his foot down a few years back.

Frank pushed the door open, stalking immediately to Rob’s backpack. The room was painted a mellow sage green, no remnants of the soft pink and white lace curtains their mother had inadvertently tormented her son with in view.

Maybe it had been all their faults. Just, Rob had never really seemed to mind. He used to like his pink clothes, used to like getting to wear socks with fun patterns and do twirls to show off his latest dress. It was really easy to forget that their little sister was a boy, especially when it was just so easy to make Robyn cry.

“Come on, Frank, don’t go through his stuff…” Joey trailed off, Frank pulling out the empty bag of sugar from Rob’s pack. Gnawing on his lip, Joey didn’t say anything when Frank turned the bag over, searching for whatever evidence he was determined to find. He looked around the room again, taking in the posters on the wall Rob had started putting up. Most were of girls in elaborate, funky clothes from school girl outfits combined with combat boots and crazy, sparkling pigtails to a wall dedicated to leather, gothed out vamp girls. They had a subtle sexuality to them, very subtle when compared to some of the posters Frank kept on his side of their shared room. Rob was young in a lot of ways still, Joey reminded of it at every turn.

Grunting, Frank continued his search, finding what he was looking for deep in the pages of Rob’s math book.

Joey sighed heavily when Frank held up the photo that had been carefully hidden away, his own face staring back in a quiet, easy-smiling pose. Fuck.

 

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City Howls #3

The White Wolf, Vale
Exclusive Library
Heller finds his pack on the outskirts of Dogtowne, revealing a crisis underway for the shifter wolves. One of their pups is missing and what the cursed werewolves will do to a shifter is a fate worse than death.

Sage can’t find any relief from his growing ache, no matter how much Frey and his gang helps. He’s ready to go home, hoping to spend the rest of his days hiding his scent in the Wastes. But the werewolf pack leader has made a decision, one that will change Sage’s life forever.

This serial is 10,000+ words long per episode. It contains graphic language, violence, sexually explicit content between men, and shifter bestiality including tying. 18+ Only

10,000+ wrds, Published June 10, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT CITY HOWLS

on April 20, 2016
on June 11, 2016

Review by: ann on Oct. 01, 2016 :

This book is nice and different looking forward to finding out why sage smells special. Thanks sadie your uploads on smashwords are way easier to download thsn those on amazon. Keep writing

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

It was right before dawn when the black wolf Heller found his pack.

The verdant blue-green of the forest was how he remembered it, shadowed, fogged and deadly to any that didn’t belong. What would have been a simple wood was magically enhanced by his pack’s sorcery. Heller had found the warnings of new traps, scents that spooked his wolf and kept him from trails that two years ago had been safe. He found the remains of those less lucky, shredded bodies of the cursed that had dared to stalk in their territory during the full moon. There were more than a few picked away corpses left as a warning to those that might come next moon. It made Heller uneasy. The werewolves had rarely dared into their territory before. What had changed that made the crazed howlers think they could stand a chance?

The group of shifters was occupying one of the many private estates belonging to Vale. It was the west facing villa built right by the steep ravine, fortified and protected by both magic and the natural lay of the land. It was another concern because Vale had refrained from opening this last house for years because of the sentimental association it had for the alpha. Something had changed in the dynamic while Heller had been away and he hoped he had not lost his pale leader while he had sat in prison.

As Heller slipped into the manor, his dark paws padding near silent on the tile, he was overwhelmed with the scents of his pack. Breathing in, he could feel the last two years try to seep out of his bones and fur to be replaced with warmth and a feeling of security he had long thought gone. Home. It didn’t matter which building be it hovel or mansion; as long as his pack was there he was home.

He found his pack in the middle of the common room, the group of men, shifted wolves and dogs stretched out on the floor in a pile of fur, limbs and pillows, a few human mates and females among them. Heller recognized nearly all of them. Even though Vale was not among them, he had no fear that his alpha was nearby for the man’s scent was everywhere, still fresh and vibrant. Pack life was like no other. It provided many with a family beyond what they had been born into with stronger bonds and deeper loyalties that connected them together through magic and beast. Heller had not truly felt the loss of such a life until finally returning home.

Stepping surefootedly between the warm, hard bodies of his pack, Heller was greeted welcomingly if not sleepily. He took the spot between Blade and a fluffy Rusty and promptly curled up on the hardwood floor and sighed heavily. With his pack around him, it was nothing for him to close his eyes and slip into the darkness, for the first time free of the fear that had haunted him the last long months. Finally, Heller let himself sleep.

***

Heller felt his pack leave him while the light of day warmed him, their scents clinging and keeping him safe. There were more than a few wet tongues kissing his snout as they left, hands petting him gently before they slipped away to go about their day. Shadowed and familiar, it was the kindest dream he’d had. He wasn’t roused from his deep sleep until hours later and only because of the pale, bare feet of his alpha standing before him, patiently waiting for him to awake. It might have been two years, but Heller was not one to deny Vale anything.

“You made it.”

Heller stretched and then shifted into his human form, sitting for a dazed moment on the floor as he adjusted. “Barely,” he grunted, peering up through his long, black tangle of hair to take in the form of his pack leader. It was strange to see Vale immaculate as always, his white hair sleek and thrown over his shoulder, aristocratic features calm with a hint of haughtiness that only added to the man’s charm. His muscular form was toned and compact and currently dressed in a thin pair of white pants, downplaying the power the man held physically and magically. Vale was a force and even if his human form showed him to be serene and still, his wolf form was a white beast of size and strength none were able to match.

Vale looked the same as always while Heller knew the man saw a different story as he gazed down at him. He had been changed; too thin, face unshaven and dirty. His blue eyes were different as if prison had drained a vitality from him and replaced it with madness. He had always been hard to tame but Heller was now more wild and manic than ever. He felt very much unworthy to kneel before his beautiful alpha after all that he had been through, all that he had survived and ruined to make it this far.

Silver eyes assessing the brunette for long minutes, Vale reached his hand out. The warmth of the man’s hand was a jolt to Heller’s senses, his fingers curling and gripping his pack leader’s palm tightly. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, avoiding Vale’s piercing gaze as he swayed unsteadily for a moment. His alpha refused to release his hand and Heller didn’t complain, drawing strength from the simple connection.

“How was the escape route?”

Heller huffed. “I had to go through the entire cursed town. Ended up in the Wastes and nearly lost my nose… and my mind. There was nothing easy about that route.” He dared to meet the man’s patient gaze, glaring back almost challengingly as he waited for whatever judgment Vale had for him.

None came. Reading his gaze for another silent moment, Vale pulled Heller into a fierce embrace, wrapping the taller brunette so tight, Heller wasn’t sure he’d be able to breathe. Still, he hugged him back just as tightly, a desperation in his movements and the sting of tears to his eyes that threatened to have him fall apart if he let go too soon.

Heller sank into the feeling of Vale scenting him, the blond breathing him in deep and ingraining him into his memory. The man was always quiet—except when he was angry, then Vale was quiet and bloody. Very much a ghost, the pack leader had moon pale skin and nearly as white hair, his long silky locks looking to belong to a much older man. Many shifters aged differently, some were even thought to be immortal. Heller didn’t know Vale’s true age but he knew he looked only in his late thirties, all tall, limber muscle and cold, icy silver eyes. He had looked the same when Heller had joined Vale’s pack over twenty years ago when the brunette had turned fifteen. There was no one he trusted more than his white wolf alpha.

Vale pulled away all too soon, Heller left feeling lost and confused to no longer have the man’s warmth and strength around him. “Have you eaten?” Vale asked, eyes again reading something on his face he wished he could hide. “Flint saved you some breakfast.”

“I’m starving,” Heller admitted brusquely, summoning a pair of loose drawstring pants to step into. Two years had filled him with such coldness and he couldn’t find the words for anything just yet. He was home but he didn’t know if it was the same, if he still fit after so much time. Vale seemed to sense his distress, the shorter man wrapping an arm around Heller’s back and holding his bicep as they walked towards the kitchens as if afraid he would disappear if he let go.

“I didn’t expect to find the pack here,” Heller muttered, glancing around the manor as he tried to gain his bearings. He had been to the villa more times than he cared to remember, always alone with his pack leader. It had not only been a fortress to keep enemies out but also to imprison those that were too dangerous to let loose. Knowing his pack was living there was a concern on a different level for Heller.

“I had little choice in the matter,” Vale said simply. “The potion is still effective.”

Heller glanced sideways at the man, wondering how many months Vale had spent wondering if his pack would be wiped out from inside the manor instead of from without.

Shifter wolf packs were more necessity than tradition. There had been a time when shifters hadn’t felt the need to stay together beyond family, especially when the world had opened up with technology and communication. Magic and a simple internet connection could give every available luxury a shifter could dream of. But that was for other shifters, ones that didn’t have to face the cursed.

No one was sure exactly where the source of the werewolf population sprang from. There had of course been legends as far back as humans had been able to write, and before that, when they shared their tales around the fire. Werewolves had always existed in small numbers as had shifters, but something had changed less than a hundred years ago that had spread the werewolf infliction through the population. For a time, every month a new town was infected, the epidemic threatening to take out all of Europe and America until someone had finally made a stand.

Magic users were not the type to work together. They were freelancers at their best, egomaniacal and power hungry on a normal day; sorcerers and sorceresses were more likely to exploit a situation than save humanity. Shifters, not always strong in magic but magical enough to transform into their inner animal, were less prone to self-centered thinking but still preferred to be left alone. If the cursed hadn’t been enraged by the scent of all canines, including the shifters that transformed into the four-legged creatures, the wolf packs may have never taken on the task of destroying the werewolf population. But they had, and after word had gotten out that the cursed were systematically hunting and murdering every canine shifter they could find whether the moon was full or not, they’d had little choice. They could either fight back or be wiped out.

Packs had started to form beyond just family bonds, growing out of a need for survival. Sorcery was taught to every member no matter how little they had the skill. Werewolves had a magic to their cursed forms and physical attack alone could not harm them when they were transformed. Defenses and ways to single out a werewolf in the light of day and far from the full moon were adapted over time. They had even started working on potions in the hopes of finding a cure for the cursed, and if not that, at least a way to keep them from their beserker, howler ways when the moon did hit them.

The shifter wolf packs had come a long way in a short amount of time and while they had struggled to survive, the werewolf population had started to balance from their full out murderous assault and began to police themselves as only their kind could. Leaders had risen up among them, more intelligent and in control of their instincts than the untamed cursed. They had formed gangs that controlled territories, demanding loyalty from the werewolves and humans that if not given was met with ruthless, joyful violence. The shifters had not stopped their war for survival but they enjoyed the lull while the werewolf gangs fought each other for dominance of the cities.

Of the twenty-some shifters that made up Vale’s pack, they consisted mostly of wolves and a few large dog. All of them were accomplished sorcerers, powerful in magic in a way few shifters could claim. Most lived with their spouses and children, a few choosing to move as far away from Dogtowne as possible once they had bred even if it meant losing the pack’s immediate protection. Pack life was unique but it wasn’t always healthy for families. Their days were filled with magic, strategies, and patrols, ever watching the moon and anticipating the bloody fight to come.

Vale had one of the most powerful shifter packs around and Heller had once been second in command to his charismatic alpha. But that had been before the murder of Lorna by the werewolves, before he had been falsely convicted and imprisoned. Heller had no idea where he stood with his pack anymore or the enigmatic man he called alpha.

“I saw the dead cursed in the woods,” Heller remarked, his eyes sliding to what could only be a mounted cursed head. Someone had taken the time to preserve the hideous piece, the strange distortion of human and wolf face twisted in its final death throws. “Fresh. No older than a moon.”

Vale nodded, his grip on Heller’s shoulder tightening for a moment. “I had a room set up for you,” he said in his quiet way, eyes fixed straight ahead. “All your things are there; instruments, spell books, clothing. Even that dreadful ficus that you refused to let die. I need to leave soon—We’re in the middle of a crisis. But I thought you could settle in, get caught up with the pack for now. I’m sure you’re tired.”

Heller growled, trying to pull away, only to have Vale hold his arm tighter.

“I’m not excluding you. You’ve been on the run for weeks, Heller,” Vale said calmly. “You need rest and there is little of that outside these walls.”

“It was prison, not a retirement home,” Heller snapped. “I can help. I… Well, I actually might need your assistance for something.”

Vale raised a pale eyebrow, releasing the brunette once they reached the kitchen. The room was huge, tiled and filled with stainless steel appliances to go with the three large refrigerators and walk-in freezer. Shifters required a lot of food to handle their advanced metabolism. What they hunted and didn’t eat, they froze for later. Food was already out, meat and vegetables waiting at the kitchen island making Heller’s stomach growl at the scent.

“Is this someone from the prison?” Vale asked while Heller threw himself across the room at the plate.

“No, nothing like that.” Heller summoned his jacket one handed while grabbing a fork with the other. “Upper left pocket. Vial. I ran across some sort of… Well, I’ll let you decide what the hell he was. Small, likely a runt if anything.”

Vale caught the long coat when it was thrown to him, picking through Heller’s pockets until finding the item he was talking about. “Sperm?” He asked, his voice reflecting growing confusion.

“Smell it,” Heller grunted, his mouth full. Food had been sparse the last month, nonexistent his last week running for his life. That he felt hunger he took as a good sign that his body hadn’t given up just yet. Each bite was a return to himself, a reminder he wasn’t starving, wasn’t running. Home. He had made it home.

Eyebrow again raised, Vale stared curiously at the small vial, eventually popping the lid to give the contents a hesitant sniff. “Son of a—Fuck!” He snarled, immediately capping the vial and grabbing onto the nearest stool to keep from falling to the ground. “Heller… What the fuck are you trying to do to me?” He snapped, silver eyes flashing warningly.

“Just tell me what he is, Vale,” Heller said, not looking remotely apologetic as the pale man swayed and grasped the kitchen island hard. “I need to know I’m not going crazy here.”

“Bitch,” Vale gritted out, his glare only growing as his trembling arms gave out and he fell chest first against the marble top. “Fuck… Fuck, Heller, you know what that scent does to me.”

“It’s stronger, right? Stronger than a normal bitch scent?” Heller pressed, dropping his fork as he reached over and took the vial from his alpha’s fingers before the man accidentally crushed it.

“Yeah… He has some sort of magical enhancement. Whoever he is, he’s powerful.” Vale continued to glare, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to gain control of himself. “Who is he? Is he in our territory?”

Heller grinned, his fangs glinting as he leaned down next to the panting man and met his gaze. “He lives in the Wastes.”

“What?” Vale wrinkled his nose in confusion. “In the dump?”

“He doesn’t even know how to transform. His parents are dead. Lives with some dick that thinks shifters are the devil.”

Vale furrowed his brow, trying to focus on what the brunette was saying. “But he’s a shifter… How could he have been left behind? We always collect our own.”

“He said werewolves killed his family.” Heller paused, fingers combing into Vale’s long, white hair, his alpha exhaling loudly from the touch. “He doesn’t know he’s a shifter. He’s confused, scared… He begged so pretty when he took my wolf’s knot. Wanted it so bad.”

Vale whimpered, turning his head so he was face to face with the brunette. “Heller.”

“Made me think of you, beautiful. How much you need it at times.” God but his alpha was beautiful like this. Heller tilted his head so he was resting it on the table, his mouth brushing close to Vale’s red lips. “You get so desperate to be filled. Do you want that, Vale? Do you want me?”

“Please,” Vale whispered, arching his back with a moan. “I missed you. Need you.”

 

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A Mate Of His Own #1

HEAT: Abducted To Be His Mate
Exclusive Library
Ryan Moss is a werewolf long separated from his pack. He has no idea how dangerous his heat is until he finds himself stalking down the closest available bachelor. Unfortunately for Ryan, his wolf finds Shane Cooper, the gay bashing, angry, rich punk that’s been tormenting him for the last ten years.

Even though Ryan hates Shane, his wolf won’t be denied. Against all sanity, he bites the blond and drags him home to mate.

Bound and trapped in Ryan’s basement, Shane plots his escape. He has no interest in being anyone’s mate, especially to his long time rival. If only his body would stop betraying him, seeking out first touch and then pain, things Ryan knows how to gift just right.

Ryan discovers that underneath his lust and resentment, he might just love his angry mate. But after what he’s done, can Shane ever forgive him enough to see him as worthy?

This short story of over 23,000 words contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Although featuring mating/breeding with werewolf anatomy that knots and ties, there is no mpreg.

23,000+ wrds, Published June 3, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT HEAT

on July 2, 2016
Best! Abduction! Ever!
Reader beware, this is downright dirty and oh so hot. The writer puts you smack in the middle of that basement and holds you down until the very end.
on May 16, 2017
For a long time I have been searching for a book like this one and almost gave up hope, thinking it too taboo of a subject. I’m beyond ecstatic to have found this book and will probably read again before the year is out!
on June 26, 2016
That was steam. I love the dirty talk. This was a great domain book. You get to understand how freeing the sub feels and know his mental issues. Take out that and still hot read. I will definitely b looking at more books from this author.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Ryan Moss had just stepped in the door and already regretted coming to school. He could feel the heat coming over him, each wave stronger than the last and threatening to cascade into a fever he wasn’t sure he could contain. He had to, he had exams and classes and needed to keep his fucking shit together. It was just getting surprisingly difficult.

He hadn’t actually expected to actually feel hot but, fuck, he was seriously sweating. His backpack felt attached to his flesh, his thin t-shirt nothing more than a second skin at this point. He had jogged to school like he always did, the morning air a cool contrast to the exercise, but his body wasn’t responding right. He had gotten there in half the time, his first class not starting for another twenty minutes. The muscles of his strong, tanned, six-foot-seven-inch frame were bulging and currently drenched with moisture, his dark bangs dripping into his pale eyes covered by sunglasses. He didn’t dare take the lenses off; his normally deep blue eyes had turned nearly white, his pupils a pinprick and reflecting the torment of his inner wolf.

Fuck, he was feeling really hot. Horny. Had he mentioned horny? Crazy, hot, and horny. He was about ready to hump the library book drop-off slot, he was feeling so crazy. Damn Mr. Menson and his fucking calculus exam.

His older brother Will had warned him, had told him how it hadn’t mattered how determined and focused he was, there was no fighting the heat. But Will wasn’t like him. Will belonged in the woods with the rest of their family while Ryan passed with the humans. No one had pegged him for a werewolf the last twenty years of his life and if he could just make it through this week, he was damn sure he could make it through a lifetime pretending to be two-legged and furless with an actual fucking career.

Being the first werewolf to graduate in his family probably would have been a bigger deal if his family gave a fuck. They didn’t. Ryan was a bit of the laughingstock with his wild relatives who were more than happy to dance under the moon after howling and hunting their dinner first. Not that he had anything against being a wolf. But times were changing—Fuck, they were already so changed that the pack was facing extinction. His family was screwing around in the woods instead of learning how to defend their land from the encroaching companies looking to mine through land and animal alike for dwindling fossil fuels.

Maybe it was unrealistic to hope his wild cousins would skin up and lawyer up after a lifetime of rooting around in the forest. Maybe he was a total tool for thinking he could fix what they had failed to even attempt. Well, besides the murdering. The pack had gotten damn good at killing the poor innocents that trespassed on their land for drilling. It was a problem, one Ryan was hoping to eventually solve no matter how dismissive his family got about him leaving the pack.

And fuck, now he was hard.

What part of needing to become the smartest fucking werewolf out there and get into law was getting him hard?

Growling to himself, Ryan pulled at his shirt, the soaked material stubbornly sticking to his skin even though he was in the air-conditioned hallway that led to his class. It did nothing helpful, his nerve endings tingling from the simple feel of fabric against his flesh, his nipples peaking, cock twitching. His calculus class was right after his first-period history class with Mr. Edwards. He just needed to get through the stupid exam and he could go home and masturbate until he was raw.

This thought hot in the forefront of his mind, Ryan forced himself to walk towards his next class, trying to ignore the way his skin was tingling, his muscles puffed up too large, stature too aggressive and intimidating. He knew he was acting more wolf than man that day and he was having a hard time curbing the beast. It was horny—unbearably horny—and the damn thing kept fixating, staring at every person that dared close, scenting, seeking. Thank fuck the place was nearly deserted. Showing up early had one good advantage. God, he needed sex. Preferably with a drop dead sexy guy with strong thighs and hard abs. Someone strong enough to handle the marathon of fucking his wolf was up for. It would be a marathon. A week at least, if he found a sexy enough body he could convince to spread for him.

“Mr. Cooper, I was clear with you. Take it up with the Administration board if you think you’re being treated unfairly. I don’t care. Just get the hell out of my class.”

“Bullshit! Do you even know how much money my parents donate to this shit joke of a school? I need to pass this course!”

Ryan rolled his eyes as Shane Cooper’s privileged, snobby ass voice reached his super sensitive hearing through the door that led to his first class of the day. Shane and him had gone to grade school together, giving Ryan many a year to hate the obnoxious bully. Shane thought he was better than everyone. More so, that he deserved to be better than everyone just because the kid’s parents were richer than fuck. Ryan had spent the better part of his education finding himself in competition with the rich snob. Not because he was trying to compete with the kid but because Shane hated anyone smarter than him. Ryan was happy to say he was fucking smarter. He was stronger, faster, and had all intentions of beating Shane Cooper at anything the annoying fucker challenged him at. Seeing the blond’s face flushed with anger every time he beat him only made it sweeter.

Professor Edwards seemed even less impressed with Shane’s parents if Ryan guessed by the man’s next words. “I have warned you numerous times what would happen if you continued to be late for my class, Mr. Cooper. If you can’t be bothered to show up on time, I can’t be bothered to teach you.”

Ryan could see where this was going, two other students already kicked out of their history class since the semester started. Shane apparently could too, his tone changing to one of pleading. “I told you, I have swimming practice. I get here as soon as humanly possible and—”

“It is not my fault that you didn’t plan your schedule better. Perhaps dropping my class would be a boon to you.”

“Damn it, please, Professor. I need this class. Can we work something out? I’m sure you could use a little help towards retirement and I’m always happy to donate to education.”

“Fucktard,” Ryan sighed. He counted silently to himself, giving his professor enough credit for not actually slugging the annoying brat.

“Mr. Cooper, I will give you a week to allow you to reconsider your stance on this particular topic.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I mean I will be informing the Dean of this conversation. If you are seen on school property during the next week, you will be permanently expelled. The next time you arrive for my class in a week’s time you can either be on time or expect to be removed from it. Now leave.”

The door to the class snapped open, Ryan stepping back before Shane could storm into him. The tall blond stopped short on seeing him, his angry scowl only growing. “Get the fuck out of my way, faggot.”

Ryan refused, too busy staring at the angry boy. Shane Cooper was the absolute bane of his existence but today his wolf was at the surface and the animal didn’t seem to give a fuck about that. No, it was too busy howling at the way Shane’s broad shoulders stretched his stupid preppy shirt and his designer jeans clung to his hips and tight, muscular ass. Damn, he could fuck that. Hell, he wouldn’t even have to bag the kid—Shane was hot all around except for his ugly-ass mouth with the stupid shit he was always saying. His dirty blond hair was kept short and spiky, making his nearly black eyes look even more intense when the kid glared at him. All he’d have to do is gag the annoying punk and then he could happily fuck him senseless. Shane would look good in a gag. In a gag and absolutely nothing else.

Closing his eyes, Ryan took a steadying breath and tried to calm his suddenly pounding heart. Fuck, he really shouldn’t have come in today. He had to be fucked in the head to ever think of Shane Cooper as fuckable. He hated Shane. Absolutely hated him.

There had been a time when Shane had been taller than him. The blond had taken huge amounts of joy in it even though Ryan had always been able to outrun the annoying fucker. Now Ryan’s bicep was nearly thicker than Shane’s head. Even though he was well aware of it, the blond who was half a head shorter than him seemed oblivious as he snarled and went to push past him.

Shane hit him square in the chest but Ryan didn’t budge, a soft growl rising up from the brunette as he caught a whiff of the boy’s scent. Holy fuck, yeah, he could totally hit that. Not only did he look like sex, the kid smelled like it too. Ryan’s wolf gave another inner howl, heat rushing over his skin like wildfire.

“I said, get the fuck out of my way, you fudge packing, panty wearing fairy!” Shane went to shove him but Ryan was faster. He grabbed the blond’s wrist, ignoring the hiss it was met with when he squeezed too tight. Shane might have thought he was tough shit, but against a werewolf, the boy’s perfect swimmer’s body might as well have been ornamental. With an angry snarl, Shane went to punch him with his free hand, Ryan easily catching that one as well and pinning it in his larger palm.

Looking into the boy’s dark, wide eyes, Ryan did everything he could to fight the beast inside him that was demanding he push Shane Cooper against the wall, tear his tight jeans down, and fuck him raw.

“Moss, get the fuck off me.”

There was a new tightness to the blond’s voice, something that broke through the hazy heat trying to steal Ryan’s mind completely. Shane was not a werewolf. Fuck, he wasn’t even a potential mate—The kid was an angry, gay hating, rich punk that couldn’t face the real world without his parents’ money to fix all his fuck ups.

God, but he smelled so fucking good. Looked so fucking tight and hard and fucking hot. The stupid fucker could get in his face and talk shit all he liked, just as long as he kept smelling like that. Fuck, he wanted to rape him. Just a little. Just until the blond was begging. He could make Shane beg. He could make him beg like a good bitch. Or just cripple the annoying fucker and do whatever the fuck he wanted to him.

Fuck, he was turning into a total psycho. Ryan dropped Shane’s hands before he could convince himself otherwise, turning and taking two large strides away, his breath loud in his ears. The heat was only getting stronger and the annoying little punk just smelled so good to him. Bullshit—Fucking bullshit. He hated Shane.

“What the fuck is your problem, Moss?” Shane snapped, rubbing his wrist, a red mark threatening to turn purple where the brunette had grabbed him. “Choke on the wrong side of the dick today?”

God, he fucking hated him. Ryan started down the hall, not caring if he missed his history class and failed his calculus exam. He needed to get the fuck out before he did something stupid and potentially dangerous. He should have listened to his brother. Should have never tried to fight his wolf nature and just hid away in the woods until the heat left him. Fuck, he could still smell the annoying fucker!

Ryan whirled, Shane right behind him, the blond’s expression twisted in a wicked smirk suggesting he was about to make another rude, smart-ass remark. “Get the fuck away from me, Cooper.”

“Like fuck, you faggot freak. I think you sprained my wrist. I’m totally going to sue your pansy ass for assault.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryan tried to take a steadying breath. It might have worked on a normal day but today his vision was full of a throbbing red that had never been there before, his blood pounding loud in his ears, muscles tense with restrained force. Every inhale only surrounded him with more of the strange, enticing scent of the blond before him, and it was everything he could do to keep his hands at his sides.

“I’m going to take you for everything you own, Moss. All twenty-five dollars and seventeen cents.”

Asshole. The motherfucking asshole. He went to turn away, growling when he felt Shane move, the blond rushing forward to shove him. Snapping around, he grabbed Shane by the collar, slamming him hard against the wall of lockers no one ever used but the college insisted on having.

“Shit,” Shane hissed, grabbing uselessly at the large hand effortlessly holding him in place. He stilled when Ryan pulled his sunglasses free, nearly white, inhuman eyes staring back at him. “What the fuck?”

“You really don’t want to mess with me right now,” Ryan said, his voice a low, husky growl, strange pale eyes burning into Shane’s. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, inhaling deeply of the blond’s scent and listening to Shane’s breath hitch in surprise. Sexy. So fucking angry and sexy. The things he would do to this kid. Nasty, degrading things and it would be so easy.

“Be good for me, Cooper,” Ryan murmured, letting his lips press to the boy’s jaw for a fleeting second, his dick throbbing from the light contact. “Be good and shut that sexy mouth of yours for one damn minute so I can get the fuck out of here.” He let the blond go abruptly, immediately regretting it as he took a step away, his piercing gaze pinning Shane in place. Fuck, it would be so easy. Shane was weak and he was strong. His wolf knew what that meant. The creature understood all too well what happened to weak things that crossed their path. They were used. Broken. Devoured in all the many ways one could devour a hot, tasty morsel like Shane Cooper.

Daring him on, he flashed the blond a condescending smile, Shane’s eyes widening when he caught sight of Ryan’s elongated fangs. He watched uncertainty flicker on the blond’s face, quickly replaced by hot embarrassment and anger as Shane pushed himself off the wall of lockers and took a stalking step towards him. It felt like slow motion to Ryan’s enhanced wolf senses when the blond pulled his arm back, winding up to punch him like the hotheaded, tasty bitch he was.

Grinning fiercely, Ryan grabbed the boy by the bicep, spun him with a rough wrench, and slammed him chest first against the lockers, pinning him with his chest and hips. Before he could fully understand what he was doing, Ryan’s fangs slid deep into the juncture where Shane’s neck met his shoulder, hot, tangy blood flowing onto his tongue in a gush. Fuck, yeah.

Shane gave a pained howl, his face going pale, body tensing then going limp from the sudden, overwhelming pain. Ryan barely noticed, his senses filled with the scent of the boy’s flesh and sweat, the taste of his perfect blood and feel of his hard body against his. Groaning lowly, he rocked his hips forward, rubbing his aching erection against the strong globes of the blond’s ass, humping him in rough, erratic thrusts while gripping Shane’s hip painfully tight. He came with a grunt, his fangs slicing deeper and flooding more blood, a growl ripping through him as he slammed the boy’s limp body forward and ground his orgasm against Shane’s tight cheeks.

His. Fuck, Shane Cooper was his.

 

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The Drunk Email

A Brothercest Erotica
Exclusive Library
Nick has had a crush on his older brother for as long as he could remember. Justin is just so perfect; handsome, strong with blond hair and blue eyes. It’s impossible to look anywhere else. Nick never thought he’d ever tell his brother how he felt. That was until Justin went on a school trip out of country and Nick got lonely and really drunk.

Now Nick has no idea just how bad he’s ruined their lives, just that it’s going to be a horror show when his straightlaced, protective brother comes home and tells their parents just how much of a freak his little brother is. Determined to hide away for the rest of the summer, Nick finds himself sneaking back into their room for a sweatshirt and one final goodbye to his brother.

Disclaimer: This gay brothercest romance contains explicit sex and graphic language between adults in an incestuous relationship.

12,000+ wrds, Published May 1, 2016.
Heat level: X



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT THE DRUNK EMAIL

My favorite thing about this author is how fearless she is. She writes what she wants and I’ve loved everything I have read. This may be a short story but she packs so much emotion into it. Nick’s inner torment builds through out the story. You don’t know for sure what the outcome will be until the very end. If you can handle taboo that’s too much for the timid Amazon, this is a must read. Emotion feeds a story and this one is well fed.

Holy shit this was hot! Excuse my language but there’s just no way I can hold back the excitement I am still feeling for this. So Imma go straight for the jugular to anyone going through reviews wondering if they should give this try.
Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. No joke, seriously, read it.

It runs around the range of 11,000 words. I was able to read it all in one sitting. Just try it even if incest isn’t your thing, cause hey it isn’t mine either. Just remember this is a work of fiction. You seriously need to read this.


OK… this short story or novella (I can never figure out how many words or pages make it one or the other) was scorching hot. Don’t kill me but I always wanted to have a gay brother or even a gay identical twin brother. Just a fantasy… but this book push all my buttons and I loved it. Just soooooo hot, hot, hot, hot!

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Justin’s getting back today and I’m a mess. My hands keep shaking and my stomach is clenched so tight that I’m afraid I’m going to be sick. To top it off, I’m so hard I can’t bear it. I don’t know what he’ll do if he rejects me. I don’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t and he…

Fuck, what was I thinking?

Hiding in the backyard by my favorite rock among the maple trees, I take a deep breath and try not to freak like a total, well, freak. I shouldn’t have emailed him. God, it was the most stupidest fucking thing I could have done. Why do I do these things to myself? He’s going to hate me. I know it.

I just don’t know what to do anymore.

My brother Justin has been gone for a month on a college trip to Europe. He’s older than me, smarter, stronger—Pretty much everything I fail at. I can play a great RPG and party every Friday night but I’m never going to be an athlete like Justin or even a scholar. But I don’t mind. I’m not competing with him—He’s never had anything bad to say about me. No, he’s the nicest fucking guy there is and I think I just ruined our entire relationship with one fucked up, drunk email.

I was really drunk last night when I sent it, but I hadn’t written the email then. No, when I first wrote those damning words I was sober, horny, and out of my fucking mind with grief. He had left. Not just the house but the entire fucking country. There was an entire continent between me and my brother and I just couldn’t fucking handle it. Still. Still, I can’t handle it. I don’t know when I got this way but it seems to be something unwilling to fade now that it’s taken me over.

I never meant to send him the email. It was one of those stupid things you write to get it out of your head and never think about it again. My fantasy. What I want him to do to me. What I’ve been dreaming about for god only knows how long because I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want him.

That I sent it to him makes me more of a monster than having lived with the feelings inside for so long. Because now I’ve tainted him with this sickness in me. If you knew Justin, you’d understand just how terrible a thing that is. He’s perfect. Blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and a wide smile. He wasn’t made to be tarnished but to shine.

Me, well, I might look really similar to my brother, just shorter and slim to his muscular build but I never had a problem being his shadow. There’s a darkness in me. I’m okay with that. It just wasn’t ever supposed to touch him.

The words are burned into my retinas; clear, concise plans to destroy everything we are as brothers. How he slips into my bed while I sleep, my body naked, my hole already stretched and oiled for him. His hands would be rough, large as they move over me, down my body while he spoons against my back. I’ll wake up but I won’t speak—No, that would be too dangerous, speaking at a time like that. But he’ll know from the way I breathe, the way I push back against him that a part of me is dying from knowing he’s so close yet not inside me.

Hell. I’m way too horny for my life to be about to end.

Biting my lip, I glance around to see just how visible I am to the neighbor’s house through the trees and their dividing fence. It’s getting late, the sun starting to set. My parents already left for the airport half an hour ago. The city is a long drive and Justin’s plane won’t get in until late… Fuck, this is ridiculous. I haven’t even seen him yet, haven’t seen him in a month, I’m worried he’s going to hate me, yet I’m so fucking hard.

Groaning, I run my palm down the front of my jeans, pressing against my erection, my hips rocking up for more. God, I should go inside. Just… Just, if I do, I’ll go looking for his picture and now is really not the time to be jerking off to my sexy-ass brother’s picture. Holding my breath, I slowly unzip and slide my hands down my navel and into my boxers, grasping my hard dick firmly.

I’ve thought of it so many times, how he’d take me. I think at this point he wouldn’t even have to—Just him behind me in the dark whispering in my ear could be enough to get me off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s supposed to be ‘wrong’ or if it’s just because it’s Justin—gorgeous, muscular and all sexy—but every time I think of him finally touching me, my body just goes crazy.

My breath coming out in loud, harsh pants, I move my hand down after a few long strokes, probing fingers into my crack. Fuck, I must be losing it, touching myself in the goddamn backyard. It doesn’t get much more degenerate than this. Well, besides trying to get my brother to join me.

“Oh, fuck.” Gasping when I find my rim, I spread my legs wider around my jeans, my knees bent up and wide, thighs tense as I wiggle my hips to get a better angle. Precum is wetting the front of my t-shirt where it’s resting against my hard flushed tip but I can’t care. Need it. God, I need it so bad. Exhaling sharply as my finger slides into my hole, I immediately add a second and start fucking myself on my digits.

Justin’s big—Big hands, big biceps, and a thick, long dick I’ve been dreaming of. There’s no way it wouldn’t break me and fuck, I want it to. I want him to fuck me so deep, so wide that I won’t ever recover. I want him to own me with his cock, take me whenever, however. Just as long as he’s doing it to me, I’d be happy.

My passage clenches, my body protesting how narrow and short my fingers are compared to what I really want. Sweat drips down my face and slicks my taut stomach, my breath nearly lost. I lean back against the tree trunk and rock my hips up, driving my fingers deeper into my hole, thrusting again and again while choking back each soft moan. I love the friction of my knuckles in my unlubed passage, love the edge of pain that makes it feel real.

I want it to be real with him. I want it to be rough and raw and so fucking real—Something more powerful than the insanity inside me. His cock, his cum. My brother’s seed filling me the way I need it.

“Yes… Fuck, yes,” I whimper, slamming down on my hand, trying to grind in deeper while digging my sneakers into the dirt for leverage. I don’t even need to touch my prostate for this, don’t need to touch my dick. Just thinking of my big brother wrapped around my back, pushing his thick cock into me in the dark is all I need. Fucking me, telling me he wants me, loves me…

Biting my lip hard, I come, muffling my cry as my cum streams jerking spurts onto the underside of my shirt and drips down my dick.

“Fuck,” I gasp loudly, my body trembling, hole still clenching in aftershock around my fingers. “Fuck.”

God, I’m so fucked up. Ruined my relationship with my bro with one fucking email and my answer is to jerk off while thinking of him. Brilliant.

My cum growing cool against my skin, I slowly extract my fingers from my hole, grunting once they’re finally free. I carefully zip up, folding my shirt to keep my jeans from getting jizz all over the material. I want to get up but I’m worried I’m just going to end up on my hands and knees, pants down my thighs and fingers in my hole again while I think about him fucking me.

I would bend over for him. Would get on my knees, spread my legs wide and let him do anything he wanted. Part of me wants him to be gentle, to be as loving as I need him to be to make this crazy finally cool. But another part, the louder part, just wants my brother to take me—Hard, relentless, with a fire that can only match what I need from him.

It doesn’t matter. It will never happen—It should never happen. I don’t know if he’s already read the email or will once the plane lands. Either way, I know he’ll never speak to me again.

Groaning, I hunch forward and wrap my arms around my knees. I try to let the fading sunshine fill my senses, night soon approaching. All I can feel is the cold coming to steal my happiness away.

It’s going to be so awful. When he yells at me—He’ll hate me. He’s going to hate me and I don’t want to face that. Maybe I can go over Andy’s tonight. Maybe I can sleep over and delay this whole fucking mess for at least one night.

God, I’m so fucking stupid. What will mom and dad say? Will Justin tell?

Anxiety is like a nauseating wave in my body, fueling me more thoroughly than my guilt. That I’m getting hard again, too—God, I’m so messed up. I want him to know. Want him to want me and know. But he doesn’t and I’m just a colossal idiot with an unbearable crush on my big brother.

 

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Teddy’s Naughty Adventures #2

Teddy Meets The Gardener
Exclusive Library
It’s only the second day at Granny Emma’s and Teddy is already being put to work in unexpected ways. He meets the gardener for the first time. Mr. Fowler is handsome, charismatic, and ready to help Teddy in any way the beautiful boy needs, even if his methods end up making a big mess for the two of them.

Teddy finds out just who is living next door. Nervous but excited to make a new friend and get clothes of his own, he’s pretty sure living with Granny Emma is going to be the best ever.

Disclaimer: All sexually active characters are 18+. Contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, dubcon/noncon between older men and petite, youthful bottoms. Each episode is at least 10,000 words and should be read in order to be fully enjoyed. Not intended for anyone under 18.

10,000+ wrds, Published May 1, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

Way too hot for Amazon!

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Teddy awoke the next morning to Granny Emma banging pots downstairs and shouting his name. Sitting up ramrod straight as he remembered where he was and how important it was to not mess things up, he gave a weak gasp, his hole throbbing angrily. Oh, he was hard, his body aching for attention.

Gnawing on his lower lip, he forced himself to get up, looking around the cluttered room for something to put on. Granny Emma hadn’t thought to give him any pajamas and he owned no underwear so he had been forced to sleep in the dusty bed nude. It was okay, the upstairs hot, no fan or air-conditioning to cool the summer heat from him. He had managed to get one of the heavy windows open a few inches, a small breeze moving in to the otherwise stiffling room. Still, it was his room. It still needed cleaning and maybe a light that worked, but it was all his.

“I’ll be right down!” Teddy shouted, wincing from the noise of his voice echoing in the room. Hopefully the elderly woman wouldn’t think he was being rude. As he bent over and scrambled around for his shorts from yesterday, he groaned, gasping while he clutched the bed hard, his dark curls falling into his dazed blue eyes.

Oh, but he ached so much, his narrow hips rocking as he humped the side of the bed and carefully rubbed his dick against the firm surface. He had never felt like this before and he wondered blearily if going to the dentist the day before had done it to him. Maybe cleaning made you very desperate to be cleaned again. Teddy wasn’t sure but all he could think about was getting the big syringe into his tight hole, hoping to ease some of the ache burning within.

More pots and pans crashed from downstairs, Teddy jumping and quickly throwing his shirt on. It did nothing to cover his flushed, hard dick, the boy whimpering as he pulled his too tight shorts up. It wasn’t going down, his dick resolutely pointing straight ahead and oblivious to the fact he had to get to Granny Emma or risk being thrown out on the streets.

Taking tentative steps to the staircase, Teddy consoled himself to the fact that the woman had terrible eyesight. Maybe she wouldn’t notice? But he couldn’t even get the shorts to zip, his length too hard and sticking out of the gap. Oh, he was certainly going to get in trouble.

Cupping his hands over his erection, Teddy edged his way into the kitchen, frowning when he found the mess waiting for him. “Granny, let me do that,” he said quickly, grabbing the pan from her claw like hands as he looked around. Pots and pans were littered everywhere on the floor and counters, the lower cabinets all opened up as if the women had been trying to get a stray animal flushed out of the house.

“Teddy, thank goodness. I’m looking for my cake pan. One of the boys is having his birthday soon and I promised him a cake. He doesn’t have a mother to make one—Teddy.” Peering down her nose through her thick glasses, she gave the boy’s shorts a stern glare. “Teddy, that does not belong out in front of a lady. Not ever.”

Teddy quickly covered his erection, his cheeks flushing red. He had never been so embarrased, the heat of his face like a hot stove beneath his thick dark ringlets. “Sorry, Granny. I… I need some more clothes. I don’t know how to—It’s not usually like this,” he whispered, wishing his dick would go back to its normal size. Instead it gave a stuborn twitch, trying to push against his palm.

Holding her hand up, Granny Emma turned slowly away, hobbling around the pots and pans. “Teddy, I want you to get yourself cleaned up just the way Dr. Wilson showed you. The gardener is coming today and he’s going to need the help of a strong, big boy. Do you think you can do that?”

Teddy nodded quickly, grateful the old woman wasn’t yelling at him or trying to chase him with a big spoon to beat him. “Should I find the cake pan first?” He had already spotted it, the familiar shape already on the floor but undistinguishable to his Granny’s near sighted stare. He carefully fished it out and place it on the table, making sure to cover his front with his other hand the entire time.

“You can clean up the kitchen after Mr. Fowler is done with you, boy. It’s never good to keep a man waiting. Now hurry along.”

Teddy nodded quickly, his blue eyes wide as he took a step towards the hall. “Granny, I don’t mind the clothes you gave me. Just, the shorts won’t fit when I’m, well, like this.”

The old woman gave a shaky nod to her head, standing over a recipe book as she hummed. The kitchen was a mess and Teddy was seriously worried she might fall. He knew she had a bad leg, but he was now wondering if maybe Granny Emma was going to need to be watched, not just helped to make sure she didn’t fall.

“I think I have a solution for that, boy. Let me make a phone call—I won’t have my sweet grandson dressed like a pauper with just one set of clothes. Now hurry, Teddy. Mr. Fowler will be here any moment. Wash up and meet him out back in the yard.”

Jumping at the order in her stern tone, Teddy scrambled back the way he came, running up the stairs while trying to keep from gasping with each step. Clothes. He was actually going to get some clothes. And there was no one there to ruin them or hide them away like at Aunt Jenny’s place.

 

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