sins-mocha-rose-120x103
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.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
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.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
StepDaddy

A Stepfather/Son Novella
Exclusive Library
Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.

35,000+ wrds, Published August 27, 2016.
Heat level: X



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT STEPDADDY

This was a hot, sexy, funny yet dirty read. Ethan can’t help checking out his hot stepdad and his stepdad Jeff has been lusting after his stepson for ages. Whose going to cave into their lust first?
Ethan made me laugh when he dressed to impress, with a provocative flare, to get Jeff’s attention.

The book is written well but I wouldn’t expect any less from Sadie Sins.

This was a fun and naughty read, and also a very provocative guilty pleasure. Jeff is the sexy, hot step, dad who is trying his hardest not to give into the raging lust that he has for his step son, Ethan. Ethan feels the same way and tries many little schemes to get Jeff’s attention. The only thing that bothered me about Jeff was his constant regret when he did give in to him at times, although I don’t want to spoil anything since it was an enjoyable read. Ethan’s mother is never there and they have somewhat of an open marriage, so there’s that. 🙂 The writing, of course, was excellent (as usual) and the characters were very tantalizing. I can’t wait to read about what happens in that home next. Super titillating.

Arghh, good, so good! This was kinda tame for Sadie, with the stepfather spending most of the book being a dang upstanding and respectable man *grumbles* I really wish this book had been longer, if for no other reason than to have lots more steamy Daddy kink scenes :p I loved both characters a lot! (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

“Damn, kid, don’t you ever go to school?”

Ethan blinked up from his phone screen as his stepfather came into the kitchen, his eyes lingering for a moment on the man’s tattooed arms. “Summer vaca,” Ethan mumbled, ducking his head back down and hiding behind his box of cereal as the man made his way to the stove top and began cooking up a late breakfast. “Don’t you have work?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. Jeff didn’t talk much. The guy had moved in six months ago after a whirlwind engagement and besides hanging out in the adjoining garage painting all day, Ethan rarely saw the man outside of the occasional times Jeff would try and catch up with him.

He was kind of glad the guy was so busy. Jeff unsettled the fuck out of him.

“I’ve actually been up since dawn. Just grabbing something to eat before I get back to the canvas. Got that gallery showing in a week and I need to get some last minute touchups done before framing.”

Ethan nodded to himself, having a bite of his now soggy cereal while sneaking a peek at the man. Jeff was still in his pajamas, wearing a pair of black flannel night pants and a black wifebeater that was flecked with spots of paint. He wasn’t wearing shoes—the man rarely did while around the house. Both of his arms were covered from shoulder to wrist in tattoo’s, his tanned skin colored in elaborate, geometric patterns in blue, gold, and black ink. It was apparently inspired by one of Jeff’s own paintings. A badass painting if he was to go by the man’s bulging biceps.

Ethan’s new stepfather was a lot of eye candy. With his piercing blue eyes and brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, the guy could have been a model. He had the body for it—tall, lean, and buff—as well as the not giving a fuck attitude. Jeff always looked like he was two days late to shave, a light fuzz prickling at his jaw and neck, and he rarely dressed up beyond jeans and a t-shirt. He was also one of those health nuts, having filled their refrigerator with tons of fresh, organic produce when he moved in, his blender heard before any of the alarm clocks went off.

“You looking for a job?”

Ethan ducked his head back down, shaking it silently when the man glanced over at him from the stove. He tried to lose himself in his video game but couldn’t stop from being distracted by Jeff’s presence across the room. The thing was, Ethan didn’t like guys. He was pretty fucking sure. But it was really hard to look away from Jeff whenever the man was around. There was just something about the guy that drew his eye and kept him looking. Like his colorful biceps. Or the way the man’s thin pants clung to his sculpted ass.

It was unsettling. Confusing. Ethan just couldn’t stop getting hot whenever around his stepfather and it had been going on for months now.

“You need a job, kid. An internship. Something. You going to waste your life hanging around the fucking house all the time?”

Ethan looked up when his cereal box was suddenly taken away, watching as Jeff placed a plate with an omelet in front of him, the man nudging his bowl of cereal aside on the kitchen island to make room. “You also need to start eating some actual food. There is no way there are enough calories in that sugary shit to even get you out of your chair. I don’t know how the hell you get through your soccer games on this shit.”

Jeff was damn near intimidating when up close, the man’s face predatorial and eyes stunning as they met his. He was also bisexual, something Ethan’s mom had mentioned in passing and now he couldn’t stop thinking about. Ethan nearly dropped his phone, quickly grabbing the fork that was pushed his way to hide his tremor.

“Your mother ever teach you how to cook?” Jeff asked, cocking his hip and leaning against the island while he waited for Ethan to try the food. The hem of the man’s shirt was stretched over his hips in a way that revealed a flash of tanned abs and a sparse trail of hair leading beneath his pants. It was very distracting.

Ethan really wished the guy would look somewhere else so he could fucking breathe and stop feeling like an idiot already. He shook his head silently, finally giving in to his stepfather and scooping some food onto his fork. “Shit—I mean, this is really good. Uh, sir. T-Thank you.”

Jeff raised a brow at the stuttering boy, silently mouthing the word ‘sir’ to himself. His gaze slid down to where the blond had just nearly dropped his fork. “Well?”

Ethan jolted, looking up, the utensil now caught between his lips. “Um…?”

“Did Leah ever show you how to cook?” Jeff repeated, a slight smile curling the edges of his lips when Ethan began to flush.

“My mom’s not… She doesn’t cook,” Ethan mumbled, reaching for his phone with his other hand in the hopes of ending this absolutely alarming conversation where his stepfather looked at him and kept asking him about stuff.

“You wanna learn how?” Jeff prompted, watching as the blond boy tried to hide behind the small cell phone screen and eat another bite of food at the same time. “Seeing as you’re going to be around all day, and I do try to make it a point to eat.”

Ethan shrugged, grunting something noncommittal.

Jeff was not deterred, the man’s fingers curling around the boy’s wrist to guide his hand away from his face. When Ethan looked up, only blushing brighter now, he added, “And while I’m showing you how to cook, you can fill out some job applications.”

The man’s words sinking in, Ethan scowled, pulling his hand away to rest it on the table instead. His wrist felt like it was tingling where Jeff had touched it, an annoying distraction as he tried to state his case for not needing any job now that he had gotten his last year of high school out of the way.

“I don’t want a job. I’m starting college in a couple of months and I just want to chill for a bit before all that.”

“What, are you ancient? Decrepit? Eat your omelet.” Jeff turned away, going back to the stove and cracking more eggs into a bowl and whisking them with a fork. “You’re going to want money, right? You’re going to want to hang out with your friends. Gas cost money, kid. Concerts, food, the mall—Believe me, you’re going to want a job.”

“Really, I’m not,” Ethan muttered, glaring at his plate. He had only just started to feel the freedom of being out of school. All he wanted to do was hang out with his friends and maybe his house. “My mom will pay for all that shit.”

Jeff snorted, the trash bin rattling as he threw the eggshells into the wastebasket. “Like fuck, she will. Leah does enough without needing to pay for your lazy ass.”

“I’m not lazy,” Ethan said with a growl.

“Oh, did you pay for that $600 phone your face is always glued to? What about the nearly $100 a month it costs so that you can text your friends your every riveting thought as you have them? The motorcycle you’re driving or the insurance that allows you to do so?” Jeff turned, pointing the spatula at him when Ethan stood, the boy getting ready to escape. “What about rent? All that cardboard food you keep eating? Just where do you think the money for all that comes from? Not your schooling.”

Pursing his lips, Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lazy. I’m just a kid.”

Jeff scoffed. “Not anymore, you aren’t. I don’t get why Leah didn’t have you working through summers. It’s time to grow the fuck up and start contributing. I’m not painting every day to keep your ass in designer jeans, kid.”

Glaring, a million scathing retorts swirling in his head, Ethan opened his mouth but nothing came out. Jeff’s eyes were blazing, the man unblinking and deceptively calm as he just stared him down. “No one asked you to buy me anything,” Ethan finally muttered, unable to meet the man’s glare any longer. He liked it, though. A part of him liked that Jeff cared enough to lend him money for things. His mother was never around but Jeff was, even if the guy didn’t talk to him as much as he’d like. Ethan had never had a dad before and Jeff was the closest thing to perfect in a lot of ways when it came to things like that.

“Hm.” His eyes narrowed, Jeff turned back to the stove, flipping his omelet before it started browning. “Don’t go running off until you eat. I don’t think you’ve had more than pizza and Cheetos this entire week.”

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan sat, glaring at the man’s back. Only to have his eyes inadvertently slide down, his gaze caught on Jeff’s ass when the man leaned over to grab the salt and pepper shakers. It was a decidedly interesting ass; firm, symmetrical and muscular. He hadn’t really known that he liked muscular asses but he definitely liked Jeff’s.

“You interested in anything in particular?”

Ethan jumped, his eyes snapping up. But the brunette was only looking at the pan, poking it with his spatula. “What?”

“For work. You have anything in mind you’d like to do?”

Ugh. “Play video games,” Ethan said flippantly.

“Cute. I’m sure people just hand you money for that shit.”

“Coming from the artist,” he muttered, stabbing at his omelet. That it was about the best thing he had tasted in as long as he could remember didn’t help his mood at all. “People pay you to hang out around the house painting pictures.”

“Not exactly.” Plating his food, Jeff turned the stove top off and poured himself a glass of fresh juice before sitting across from Ethan at the kitchen island.

“People buy a product from me. Now some pay for a service if they want to hire me to paint as a demonstration, or to design a mural, tattoo, whatever. But for the most part, I create something and people buy a print or the original. That’s how I can get away with hanging around the house all day; I’m selling even when I’m asleep. That doesn’t mean I don’t have to work it for clients at galleries and meetings that get my art on walls where people can see. Renting out one of my paintings to a business requires me to do more than just paint, but it’s worth the money that comes in. Half my income this month was just on rented paintings. They’re not even new pieces but they can pay the bills if you know what you’re doing.”

Ethan really didn’t want to care just how Jeff made his money. Unfortunately, he was finding it interesting and he sighed again, daring to look up at the man. Jeff’s head was ducked, a long lock of wavy hair brushing over one of his eyes, his mouth open as he took a bite of his breakfast. The man had ridiculously lush lips, full and red. Combined with his sharp features and strong jaw, he really was just the epitome of male beauty. Ethan idly wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. They probably weren’t as soft as they looked. With Jeff’s bristle, it might even be prickly, a little rough.

Glancing up, Jeff caught Ethan staring at him, the boy immediately looking away. “You pick a major yet?”

Ethan shook his head weakly, hating how flustered he felt. “Mom said she was going to help.”

“Yeah, well waiting for Leah to pull herself from her work is like watching paint dry.” Jeff smiled grimly. “I can help you if you want. I’m surprisingly good at that kind of shit.”

Glancing his way a moment, Ethan shrugged. “Okay. Um, maybe tonight? Once I get back from hanging with my friends. I was thinking of something business oriented.”

He couldn’t help but wonder how quickly it had taken for Jeff to figure out just how unavailable his mother really was. It would probably still take the man a good year to realize she wasn’t going to change. And seeing as he married her, he might even stick it out longer trying to make it work. He was young still; he might think it was worth putting the effort in.

Ethan hoped he would. Not because he wanted to see Jeff break his heart but because he really liked having the man as a stepfather. Jeff was cool. Scary, but cool. Ethan had never had anyone actually care about him and even though Jeff breezed in and out most of the day between painting, the man was always saying and doing stuff that made it clear he gave a fuck. He was a calming presence. Sturdy and reliable. Ethan wasn’t used to having something like that and he’d be really pissed if his mother ruined it for him.

His mother had tried this time, he knew that much. Jeff was very different from what Leah usually dated. He was self-driven and had interests outside of just their relationship—Really important seeing as Ethan’s mother lived for her work and her last three relationships had failed because she couldn’t put enough time or energy into them. She was always at the office and when she was home, her head was at the office, planning new ideas, designing new rooms and buildings.

Leah Walde was an architect, a highly sought after one, and she had started her own firm ten years ago. Jeff had actually been commissioned to create a portrait of one of her more famous buildings and that was how they had met. That Jeff could balance his creativity with business savvy had been a good fit for Leah, even if Jeff didn’t have much interest in doing much beyond supporting himself so that he could continue his painting. It was still a step up from the last guy who had thought he was going to be some sort of jobless house husband.

“Any thoughts on what you want to learn how to cook for tonight?” Jeff asked, having a sip of his juice.

Ethan couldn’t help but stare; a droplet of moisture dripping from his stepfather’s mouth to trickle down his chin. God, what was wrong with him? He blinked, finding Jeff staring at him with a raised brow, the man waiting patiently for an answer. Ethan really didn’t have one. “Um, whatever you feel like eating, I guess.”

Grinning wickedly, Jeff put his glass down, leaning close and crooking his finger. “Careful there. I don’t think you could stomach half the things I eat, kid.”

His breath curling hot around his ear, Ethan’s breath hitched. He glanced Jeff’s way, feeling stupid as fuck when he caught the man still smiling. His eyes were sparkling at him, flashing with some hidden laughter that was making him feel hot inside. For a frozen eternity, he was certain the man was flirting with him and he had no idea how to respond.

Thankfully, Jeff seemed oblivious to his panic, the man reaching over and patting Ethan’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t make you eat anything too healthy and green. Seeing the diet you’re coming from, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm your system with anything of substance.”

“Oh.” Gnawing on his bottom lip, Ethan slowly sank back in his seat, hoping his cheeks would stop burning soon. He had a sip of his soda, his gaze inadvertently drawn to his stepfather again. “Um… So, like, when did you know you were bi?” Ethan asked daringly, his heart feeling trapped in his throat once he got the question out.

Moving in a way that seemed just a little too casual, Jeff placed his fork down. “Young. Younger than you are.” He met Ethan’s curious gaze, his head tilting slightly. “Why? Does my sexuality make you uncomfortable?”

“Jesus, only when you say it like that,” Ethan muttered, covering his face with his hand for a moment. He peeked out, combing his fingers through his short blond locks. “Just… Did you know at the same time? Or was it, like, you liked one and then realized you liked the other later?”

Considering the question a moment, Jeff finally answered after having another drink of his juice. “Both. I had at least half a dozen crushes back then and it was pretty easy for me to see that gender was not a barrier for my attraction.”

“So bi people, they all know, like, at the same time, then? Like, if you’re going to be bi, you’re definitely going to know when you start getting crushes. It doesn’t, like, change?” Ethan asked nervously, his fingers twisting at his placemat.

“I’m not sure that would be the way I’d word it,” Jeff said carefully, studying his stepson’s face while Ethan bit his lip and looked at the table. “I think attraction is based on more than just a body, and sometimes when all the right elements come together, you might just find yourself looking at someone you weren’t expecting to be looking at.”

His brows furrowing at the answer, Ethan forced himself to look the man in the eye. “I’m not talking about love or shit. I’m not saying people can’t, like, fall in love and overcome gender or what have you. I just want to know if, you know, you can suddenly be attracted to…” He trailed off, waving his hand nervously.

“Are you worried you’re going to wake up wanting to suck cock?” Jeff asked blandly.

“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Scowling and beyond embarrassed, Ethan stood, more than ready to get away from this man that flustered the fuck out of him on so many different levels. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with gay people. That’s not what I was—”

“Sit your ass down, brat,” Jeff ordered quietly. “Did I say there was anything actually wrong with sucking cock?”

Ethan paused and glared at the man, his brain unfortunately now stuck on the question of if his stepfather had ever sucked cock and what that might look like. A beat later and he sat back down, his leg bouncing nervously. “I just want to know if you can, well… Like a…” He couldn’t say it and was only feeling more upset by the fact because it was Jeff he was trying to explain it to.

“Can you suddenly like someone of the same gender and still like the opposite sex as well?” Jeff supplied when Ethan seemed unable to continue on.

Pursing his lips, Ethan nodded sharply. “But more, can you just, like, suddenly like someone of the same gender. When you never did before. Not ever.”

“Not ever?” Jeff repeated, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

“Not ever,” Ethan repeated sternly, daring him to call him a liar.

“Well, I’ve only ever had my own experiences to compare to, but if this has happened to someone, I’m pretty sure it’s not the end of the world.” He flashed the boy a comforting smile, placing his elbow on the table so he could lean his chin on his hand. “It’s not like this person would have to act on anything just because he felt something new. People get crushes all the time and don’t act on them.”

Ethan nodded, fairly certain Jeff had no idea just who he was crushing on by the casual air the man was giving off. “But it’s, like, normal?”

“As normal as the huge range of human sexuality can get.”

“But is it bi?” Ethan added, his expression again growing tense.

“It’s whatever that person wants it to be. A fluke. A one-time attraction… Or maybe it’s bi, and they’re just finding out.” Jeff’s smile had only grown, his eyes sparkling, and Ethan was feeling decidedly uncomfortable with just how nice the man looked with his perfectly white teeth.

“Stop smiling at me like that. I never said it was me,” he grumbled, grabbing his plate and jumping up to rinse it in the sink.

“Did I say I thought it was you?” Jeff asked, his smile now beaming. “Shit, are you going to start calling me dad now?”

“Fuck off,” Ethan snapped, grinning despite himself. “You’re lucky I call you sir.”

“Yeah, could you not do that? It’s weird—Children of the Corn weird. That would be a movie you’ve never heard of, by the way.” Jeff stood as well, stepping up behind Ethan at the sink with his empty plate in hand. “Just call me Jeff. ‘Hey you,’ if you’re feeling lazy.”

Ethan was having trouble focusing, Jeff standing far too close for him to notice anything else. God, it might be ‘normal’ but it was still really annoying to feel so fucking hot over someone. “Here, just…” He turned, taking the plate and fork from the man, nearly dropping both when their fingers brushed accidentally. Spinning back, he quickly washed them and put them in the dryer rack, his heart racing too fast in his chest. God, he hated this. Fucking hated it.

Jeff had stepped around the island and was drinking the last of his juice when Ethan finally got up the nerve to turn around. The faucet off, he crossed the kitchen to grab his phone.

“I start cooking around 6:30,” Jeff said, Ethan pausing mid-stride.

“Right. Um, I’m going to meet my friends tonight. Like, eightish.”

“Alright. It’s a plan.”

Nodding, Ethan edged to the door, slipping through with a quick backward glance. Jeff was staring back at him and for a frozen moment their eyes met, Ethan’s heart racing in response.

God, he really needed to get over this thing.

***

Son of a bitch. Bi? Was the kid bi now? Why did Ethan have to tell him he thought he might be bi? What was he trying to do to him?

Groaning inwardly, Jeff pressed both his hands on the kitchen island, leaning heavily over the countertop as he willed his erection down. One fumbling touch from the kid’s hand on his and he had gotten hard. Not good. Really not good.

Talking to Ethan had been a terrible, terrible idea. Sure, he had known he was being too antisocial and that he was worried the kid would start thinking he hated him. Leah hadn’t been around in forever, and he was pretty sure the kid had no adult supervision in his life but fuck… Fuck.

The things he would do to Ethan Walde if he hadn’t married the boy’s mother.

He was too young for him, didn’t know shit about life—And only ten minutes ago, decidedly straight. Many very good reasons Jeff had focused on whenever he found himself in the same room as the young man. But Ethan was also fucking delicious. He had soft, golden hair and wide, clear, green eyes, flawless skin and his average height was already filled out with muscle from his competitive soccer playing. That summer vacation had started and Ethan seemed content to haunt the kitchen and living room most hours of the day, half the time without a shirt on, had become a special type of hell for Jeff.

Cooking lessons? The kid needed to learn how to cook—to eat—but shit, why the fuck had he suggested cooking lessons? Knives and fire and the two of them in the somewhat cramped kitchen? Alone.

Dumb. Really fucking dumb.

He needed to get laid. That was all. He had gone into this thing with Leah with a predefined understanding that he needed sex more than she did and that she was more than happy to let him go out and get it as long as he was safe about it and he was home for the weekends to do family stuff. Of course, it had turned out that he had no problem being home on the weekends while Leah couldn’t seem to find her own house. Jeff hadn’t gotten around to checking out his options in the area. He had moved to a new town for Leah and although he was enjoying his large art studio, he hadn’t done much outside of the house besides grocery shop and jog in the morning. Something that was going to have to change if his sexy-ass stepson was hanging around all summer. And now bi.

The kid needed a job. Like yesterday.

Jeff could only hope that whatever reason Ethan had been looking at him strangely the last few weeks had to do with that conversation and would finally stop. The staring had been the icing on the shit cake of this insane situation. Ethan was probably just curious about the bi thing. More than a few guys were curious about the bi thing. It used to be the quickest way for Jeff to get a straight guy into bed—Just tell him he was bi and let him ask a million questions until he explained how much easier it was just to show than tell.

Not something he could do with Ethan. Not something he should even be fucking thinking about doing with the kid. Stepson. Young, naive, and very much off-limits for anything.

Hot, though. Really fucking hot. He had great nipples, the perfect size, pink spots just begging to be kissed, licked and then nipped sore. And his neck—he wanted to coat the boy’s long throat with his cum until it dripped down his toned torso like a pearly, dirty river. And if Ethan wanted to call him daddy while he was doing it, well, that would be more than fine with him.

“Jesus, get it the fuck together,” Jeff grunted to himself, his body lighting up with heat and his cock again hardening until it was pressed up against the side of the island.

It was time to start checking out his fucking options in the area. There was a bar within walking distance; some pool joint where he’d seen a mix of ages and sexes go in. He just needed to fuck something—preferably a hot twink that could pass for half his age so he could get this out of his system. Until then, he was going to have to settle for his hand and get the fuck back to work. He had a set of three paintings that Leah had commissioned from him for one of her older clients. It was guaranteed money and a potentially lasting connection if he got it all done in time and kissed ass well enough. That on top of his gallery opening in a week had him completely swamped. He couldn’t be wasting his time fantasizing about fucking his sexy-ass stepson.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
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.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
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.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
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.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
Demon Bonded : Episode #7

The Chains That Bind
$0.00
Episode #7. An impossible choice…

Liem betrays Ky after he’s welcomed into his home, and its revealed Brave was brutalized as punishment for his failure of the night before. The difficult reality of sorcery hits Ky; defense is not enough when up against someone with magic.

Ky knows Brave is in danger while in the hands of a childish sociopath like Liem, but he can’t cross the line only days ago he never would have considered. Murder is wrong, but so is allowing Liem to kill Brave.

Ky can’t ask his demons to kill, and he doesn’t have the power to fight Liem on his own. His hesitation could be just as damning as reckless action, but it’s Brave’s life that will be lost if Ky makes the wrong choice.

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

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DEMON BONDED #7

on August 15, 2016
on March 21, 2017
on August 13, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Ky’s heart raced as he surged forward. He was terrified Liem would magic Magnificent Night away in an instant. When he slammed into Liem’s petite form with all intentions of beating the crap out of him, it took him too long to see the coil of black whip up. Liem might have gotten a collar around Magnificent’s neck, but the demon wrapped his tail around Liem’s just as quickly.

“Magnificent.” Ky froze and stared with wide, silver eyes as Magnificent lifted Liem off the chair with his tail and held him tight by the neck. Lovely appeared next to Ky, and behind him he heard Feral on the stairs blocking escape. The room grew dark at the edges the longer Ky stared. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Liem’s red face as it quickly turned purple, the teen’s expression twisted in terror and pain.

This was his fault; Ky knew it. If Magnificent killed Liem, it was his fault. Ky failed to protect the requiem; he failed to keep a monster like Liem away from the three Relics in his care. If Magnificent killed the awful apprentice, Ky wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself. He let Liem in the house. He ignored every fucking intelligent reason to turn him away and because of it, Magnificent was forced to defend his life.

“Magnificent, please.” Ky walked past Liem, who was clawing at the tail wrapped like a coil of black rope around his neck. Magnificent Night’s eyes glowed power while he glared into Liem’s frightened face and raised him higher. Liem’s legs flailed in the air while choked gasps escaped his lips. His whimpers silenced when Magnificent gripped tighter. Ky didn’t know what he felt at the idea of Liem dying. He did know what was right and what was wrong; this was wrong.

“Magnificent, I’m going to take him away. Right now. Just let him go, and I’ll take him out of the house and never let him in again.”

Ky waited the longest minute of his life. Did he truly know Magnificent Night? Ky couldn’t speak his language; they came from two completely different worlds. All Ky really knew about Magnificent was Anselm captured him, and when he died the overseer Demencious chained him. For years, Magnificent was trapped in this basement while other Relics were murdered and eaten in front of him. It would be easy for him to be a monster after such a life, maybe even expected. Demons were powerful and killing came easy for them. Chained and weakened, Magnificent was still far stronger than Liem. The apprentice was a frail, helpless child compared to a Requiem.

“Please, Magnificent,” Ky whispered beseechingly. He reached his hand out to caress the demon’s grim expression. He should have been afraid; Ky knew he was an absolute idiot when it came to the Relics. Still, he had to try. He couldn’t bear if his fuck up led to Magnificent having to take a life. “You don’t need to kill anyone. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you needed to. Please, let me fix this.”

The furious glow in Magnificent’s eyes faded as his gaze moved to Ky’s upturned face. Ky sighed in relief when the demon uncoiled his tail from around Liem’s neck. Liem fell to the ground and collapsed, gasping for air.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Ky’s voice cracked with the flood of emotion moving through him. He tore the collar from Magnificent’s neck and flung it across the room. He wasn’t sure where to direct his rage; Liem who came into his house and tried to capture Magnificent Night like he was a bug in a jar, or himself, who was so dumb he trusted the awful teen enough to let him in the house in the first place. God, he was fucking it all up. He just met his first sorcerer apprentice and nearly let the asshole die.

Although, given how Liem tried to kill him just last night, Ky wasn’t about to spill any tears over it.

“Ky!” Lovely hissed. Ky whirled from Magnificent to discover Brave. The wolf demon appeared in the basement when summoned by the fallen Liem. Brave growled and hovered protectively over his young master as he pulled him across the room away from danger. The two demons glared at each other warily, Lovely a bristling white glow of long, silvery hair, cat ears and claws while Brave was hulking, scarred muscle and dark whirl of hair. Brave snarled and snapped razor teeth when Lovely stepped menacingly toward him.

“Stop,” Ky ordered roughly. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to anymore; he just wanted it all to fucking stop. Brave was injured; blood crusted his handsome face, and the flesh beneath his collar was raw, red, and oozing yellow fluid that dripped over the fresh bruises and cuts on his body. It was his punishment for being linked to Ky; there could be no other reason.

Ky’s stomach plummeted as he remembered his conversation with Lovely about the link. Nausea was a hot wave that threatened to overwhelm him. Liem punished Brave for something he hadn’t even done. Ky created the link with his will, not Brave. His ignorance and inability to control his magic directly led to Brave being harmed.

Liem unsteadily pushed up on his knees. His eyes shined bitter tears as he pointed accusingly at Ky. “Fido, kill! Now!”

Lovely hissed warningly, but it was Feral’s growl, loud and full of death, that froze everyone in the room. The bronze-skinned coyote demon slinked from the shadows. With deliberate steps he crossed the room and took an aggressive stance in Ky’s defense.

Liem gaped up at the new black feathered demon. Hatred twisted his features as he whirled back to Ky. “Three? You have three fucking archons? Two of the things aren’t even collared, and they just answer to you!”

“They’re not things,” Ky replied hollowly. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood on Brave’s face. The wolf demon’s ear was torn, not from a blade but from something dull. A piercing pulled from his flesh. This morning, Liem rang his doorbell and pretended to apologize while only minutes before he brutalized and tortured this poor Relic. How could he have ever been so blind?

Liem scrambled to his feet. He held his palm upright, and a wand immediately appeared within his grasp. “Fuck. Three winged demons belong to that weak, stupid, demon loving freak! Fido, I said kill the stupid fuck! And so help me, if you fail this time, you better fucking die because I’m going to make you wish it!”

Brave didn’t move. His lips pursed in a thin line as he met Liem’s furious glare with one of cold indifference. Lovely went to stand between Ky and the wolf demon, but Ky stopped him.

“Brave’s not going to hurt me. He doesn’t want to hurt me, so he won’t.” Brave’s intentions radiated through the black link on his collar. His connection to Ky wasn’t as deep as Lovely’s, but they were still linked. Brave didn’t want to hurt him, and Ky could feel it.

“Fucking, son of a… His name is Fido! Fido!” Liem gritted out. “He’s mine, not yours, you fucking weirdo, and he has to do what I say!” Liem’s breath was heavy with rage as he shot a burst of magic at Brave. The wolf demon yelped and fell backward from the blow. “Now fucking listen to me!”

The room pulsed red around Ky. He didn’t even know he moved. One moment he heard Brave cry out in pain and the next he was across the room. His hand throbbed in aftershock from where he slapped Liem across the face. “Grow the fuck up!”

Liem clutched his burning cheek and stared at Ky in shock. His wand was limp in his hand. “Y-You…”

“That’s not the way to do things!” Ky shouted. “You’re just some stupid, spoiled child with too much power who can’t see demons are people. They’re not fucking toys. They don’t exist to do what you want. They’re people!”

Ky’s outrage grew until he was gasping for breath between words. Liem continued to stare at him dumbfounded; it was too much. “You never should have been bonded to someone as beautiful as Brave. All you’ve done is hurt a being who would have been grateful to have someone understand him in this new world. You chose to hurt him. You treated him worse than someone would treat the lowest of the low.” Ky tripped over his words but kept going, unable to slow from his fast, clipped pace as he shoved Liem back. “You don’t deserve Brave, and if I knew how to free him from you, I would! You’re a fucking monster! He has fangs and a tail and wings, and you’re the fucking monster, you horrible brat!”

For an instant, it looked like something got through to Liem; there was a flash of understanding and regret deep in his blue eyes. Liem’s expression immediately contorted, and the moment was gone. Red flushed his face and his voice shook with anger. “You don’t understand anything!” Liem hissed. “You dare strike me? I will find a way to get that Requiem for myself. Demons are weak and weak things deserve to be used. You’re the weakest fucking sorcerer ever and you deserve to be broken just like these pathetic creatures!”

Ky pulled his fist back; he’d show the stupid punk just how weak he really was. Liem wasn’t looking for a beating. He grabbed Brave roughly by the arm, and with a muttered spell they both blinked out of the room. All Liem left behind was an echo of his angry laugh and Ky shaking in fury.

Ky looked around sharply. He met Lovely’s gaze when the room proved to be empty of the sorcerer and his wolf demon. “Are they in the shadows?”

Lovely shook his head. “They’re gone; it was a teleportation spell. The apprentice would have to be an imbecile to face the three of us, especially when his bonded demon refused to follow orders.”

Ky nodded mutely as his eyes were drawn to the spot he last saw Liem and Brave. His anger was brittle. Something inside cracked and snapped until he realized he was fighting back tears. “Is he… Is he going to kill Brave?” he forced out through his tight throat.

Lovely crossed his arms over his chest. His shrug was full of indifference when he met Feral’s knowing gaze. “Anselm killed demons, but he had many at the time. It is unlikely a child sorcerer would kill the only bonded demon he has.”

Yeah, but Liem wasn’t a sane person. Ky didn’t want to believe he’d do something so terrible, that anyone would. A day ago he couldn’t imagine a person out there cruel enough to harm someone as beautiful as a Relic. Liem Kane, a classmate younger than Ky, seemed ready to murder a demon just to spite him.

All of this was his fault. Ky never should have black linked with Brave. If only he didn’t say those things, if he hadn’t hit Liem and pissed him off. If he never let Liem into his house in the first place…

Fuck. Dear fuck, should he have let Lovely kill Liem yesterday when he asked?

Ky’s stomach lurched and he fought to keep his balance. Would it have been the right choice now he knew what Liem was plotting? Was he going to come back in the middle of the night to steal the Relics? Maybe he’d kill Ky first, just to get him out of the way. Liem was ready to kill him yesterday; why would that have changed? His parents; would Liem kill his magicless parents just because they were there?

The alarming questions piled in Ky’s mind without any answers. He had no idea what he could do to protect the Relics or his family. Everything he did only seemed to fuck things up more. Brave might already be dead because of him. What was he supposed to do?

Ky’s fingers bit into his palm as he shook with unshed tears. Useless. All he did was cry and fuck things up while others were hurt. Lovely reached for him, but Ky shrugged away with a low sob.

“This is my fault. I got him angry and linked—I don’t even know how I’m linking to them!” Ky yelled suddenly, his eyes wild and glittering. He waved his hands in a wide gesture at Magnificent, Lovely, and Feral. “I’m going to get us all killed. Brave is going to die, and it’s all my fucking fault.”

Ky gasped and stumbled sharply when he was tugged sideways. He hit a solid form and blinked up into Magnificent Night’s fathomless, hauntingly blue eyes. Magnificent’s tail loosened from Ky’s wrist and soothed at the tear sliding a thin path down his cheek. Ky sobbed and crumpled forward, his shoulders hunched inward as he leaned against the demon for support.

“I can’t even get you out of the chains… c-can’t get you home.” Ky couldn’t bear the weight on his chest. He wanted to curl tight, twist into a ball until he disappeared. He went to step away; having the Relics see him like this, so weak and pathetic with every failure, was intolerable. Magnificent wouldn’t let him go. His tail twined around Ky’s chest and he pulled him tight against his body. Ky struggled, but soon found each teardrop lost in Magnificent’s long, dark hair soothed him a little. He wrapped his arms around the demon’s waist, and with is face buried against Magnificent’s neck, Ky mumbled a stream of heartfelt, tearful apologies.

Lovely cleared his throat, and Ky glanced up while sniffling. The cat demon kept his distance, his blue and violet eyes wary as he observed the two of them wrapped together. “It would be wise to collar Seriphous now, if only to prevent the apprentice from breaking in and doing so while we sleep.”

A feeling of dread hit Ky in the pit of his stomach. Liem would come back for Magnificent. Maybe for all of them. What it took to protect the demons… Ky shook his head weakly. “It’s not right. Magnificent’s been chained here for years, fed off of by the overseer. I’m not going to take his freedom away while he’s chained to the fucking ceiling. He can’t choose, and it’s not right.”

Ky regretted bonding with Lovely in that moment. He regretted every black link he collected. Each one was a life endangered by his ignorance. The only thing he was good for was feeding the demons so they didn’t starve.

More tears spilled when Ky pulled from Magnificent and reached for Lovely’s hand. Lovely readily moved to hold him but Ky didn’t want another hug. He pulled Lovely’s claw down his wrist and blood flowed scarlet on his pale flesh.

“Ky?” Lovely tried to read his eyes but Ky wouldn’t look at him.

“He’s hungry,” Ky whispered. He raised his bleeding wrist up to Magnificent’s lips. “He wouldn’t have wanted to kill Liem if he wasn’t so hungry.”

Lovely’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ky feed Magnificent his blood. “We’re not human, sweet boy. We kill things. People. We fight to survive with all the power we have. It is our way and that way involves killing.”

“It was my fault.” Ky was unhearing. He leaned against Magnificent’s chest while the requiem lapped long strokes over his narrow wrist. Heat trickled through Ky. The sensation grew when Magnificent Night’s eyes burned into his, his lips tight on his flesh to suck more fluid free. Brave liked his blood too, Ky remembered in a haze. His eyelids were heavy as he gazed up into Magnificent’s intense features.

Lovely exchanged a glance with Feral, their expressions closed off. “Be careful. We don’t need to feed daily unless injured, and Seriphous is very strong,” Lovely cautioned. “Some are stronger than others, sweetling. Dangerous. Without a collar, he might unintentionally hurt you. You’re still human, and you need to remember to protect yourself.”

Ky’s legs trembled and his face flushed with heat. He pressed into Magnificent’s dark cascade of silky hair and breathed in unsteadily. “He would never hurt me.” Ky doubted too many times already. There were so many opportunities for Magnificent to hurt him if he wanted, but he never did. He wanted to hurt Liem; he could have snapped the apprentice’s neck with a simple flick of his tail the same way he destroyed the bolt cutters. Magnificent wasn’t going to hurt him, and guilt squeezed at his heart when Ky realized how many times he questioned otherwise.

Ky lost a breath when his head was forced up, and his neck stretched tall. He reached, expecting to find Magnificent’s tail around his throat, but there was nothing, just the sorcerer collar. It felt different, stiffer, and as his fingers slid over the smooth fabric, Ky found more slots where links could fit. He met Lovely’s concerned gaze for an instant before he looked away and buried his face back into Magnificent’s hair.

It was only more magic. Ky was able to fuck things up even when he wasn’t doing a thing.

Lovely’s fingers clenched into fists as he watched Ky curled inward and away even more. He wanted to pull his delicate master close, but he didn’t dare get within reach of Seriphous. The Relic was too powerful to underestimate, chained or not.

Feral grabbed Lovely by the bicep and pulled him toward the stairs. He willfully ignored all of Lovely’s quiet insistences to stay with Ky.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
Bullying Teacher : Episode #5

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Picking up where book 4 left off, in the last installment of Bullying Teacher, Darien must find a way to break through Beau’s silence and insecurity to finally get the man to see their connection. He’s been working on his teacher for weeks but Beau just can’t seem to understand just how much he truly cares.

Darien hunts down the man that hurt his teacher but he still faces a dilemma. Frustrated with Beau’s continued refusal to reach out to him in times of need, Darien decides a proper punishment is in order, enlisting three of his very muscular, large friends to help assist in the night’s lesson.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016

Theresa rated it it was amazing

Shelves: keepers
4.5 stars Really good humiliation smut. Awesome DP scene. Syrupy sweet ending.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Pulling a cigarette free, Darien lit it up in the hall the moment he stepped outside Beau’s classroom. His teach was trying to get some food down and he just needed to get the fuck out and breathe for a second. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something, and scream, and hunt down and destroy the fucker that had hurt his Beau. Instead, he was going to smoke for a minute then go back in and pretend he wasn’t a fucking mess inside so that the blond could feel safe.

Why the fuck hadn’t Beau called him?

He looked over to where Roland was typing on his phone, the man doing his magic with the guys back at their office to find every bit of information available on Collin Hayward. Darien hadn’t bothered to tell Beau that the business he had started when he was back in high school involved the finding of sensitive information and then the blackmailing of people that gave a fuck about if that information was shared. He had started the company with a few ex-military friends, some he had gone to school with, some who he knew from other connections. Once, he had thought he’d be using them just to find out if his father was looking to fuck with his life again. Now he had a feeling he might have to see if Roland knew how to hide a body depending on how bad the night went.

“Do you want me to call in a doctor?”

Darien shook his head sharply. “Not unless he asks for one.”

“Boss, he was practically catatonic when we got here. For all we know, his brain took a bruising from that hit to his face.”

Blowing a steady stream of smoke, Darien didn’t bother to answer. His teach could take a punch. He had seen him take worse at the hands of Blake and his bitch friends and hadn’t missed a fucking beat. No, his teach had gotten down on his knees, sucked him off like a pro, and then rode his fingers until he came. Pain was not a deterrent for the blond but an aphrodisiac. If Beau wanted a doctor, he’d ask. It was one of the many rules they had set up to make sure the blond wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Except, even with everything Darien had done, Beau had still managed to get hurt the second he was out of his sight.

Beau wouldn’t let him hire a bodyguard. It had been a huge sore spot for Darien, one that he was pretty sure was about to blow up after this. He just wanted to have a familiar guy with his teach, someone he could trust to make sure nothing went down when he couldn’t be there. But Beau thought he was being silly. The man didn’t want people thinking he was someone special or some stupid shit like that. But Beau was special. His teach was his fucking life and today had been a new kind of hell for Darien when the man hadn’t shown up for dinner.

He shouldn’t have let him leave without a bodyguard. He should have locked the man up in the fucking house and made him quit his shitty job. There was just something about Beau, something in his eyes that called to certain individuals to feed his need for pain. It made them want to hurt him, use him, and when his pretty teach was in the right headspace, Beau loved ever second of it and begged for more. But that was only when he was in that headspace and with someone that actually gave a fuck enough to figure out what he liked.

Tears. Fucking tears in those beautiful blue eyes, and not in a sexy way. No, in a fucking helpless way that wrenched Darien’s heart too painful to fathom. Beau could take a fucking punch but this thing, whatever had happened, it had hurt him in a way pain didn’t. He was doing his damndest to not imagine just how exactly that could have been.

“I gotta make some calls,” he finally said, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel and scraping it into the tile. “I want that fucker found, and I want him brought here tonight.”

“Here?” Roland looked up, pulling a second phone out while he continued typing one-handed on the first. “The school?”

Darien nodded, ignoring the questioning look his head of security was sending him. He needed to make sure that whatever had happened hadn’t fucked up his pretty teach forever. Beau had a special kind of wiring, one that demanded the right knowledge and a skilled touch. He knew the longer the problem stretched on and festered, the harder it would be to get Beau feeling like himself again. He wanted things taken care of asap. The fact that part of it involved beating the shit out of the deadman that had touched his Beau was just a total perk.

“We got him,” Roland called out before the boy could leave, pushing off the wall. “He just used his credit card in a restaurant less than twenty minutes away.”

“Danny?”

“Already on the way with Jordan. How do you want this guy brought in, boss?”

Darien considered, eying the picture Roland held up on the screen of his phone. “Keep him pretty. I want to fuck him up myself. Let me know when they get him here, but not in front of the teach.”

Roland nodded, texting as Darien spoke. “The guys dug up some more shit on him. Hayward was in a heavy scene about five years back. Used to frequent an underground club. Few regulations, lots of drugs. They were known for some pretty fucked up doms. A young man ended up dead and the place was shut down. Looks like Hayward’s aunt threw some money at some people and no one is saying shit.” He glanced up when Darien growled, fixing the boy with a look. “Hey, this is good news. With info like this, you have this guy by the balls.”

Darien just grunted, fighting back his anger and the pit of seething emotion beneath it. “You remember that kid I asked you to keep an eye on a few weeks back? Sutor’s brother, Rich? Did he ever get back to us on that thing we discussed?”

Roland nodded, already flipping through his other phone. “He seemed agreeable enough to it. Clean record. Able to listen.”

“I want him down here.” Hopefully, it would fix it.

In that moment, he felt like he was fighting fire with fire while holding onto the foolish hope the place wouldn’t burn down. But that was what Darien did. Every day he pushed forward, demanded the best from himself and everyone around him, and he prayed he wouldn’t trip and be stopped flat. Being with Beau had changed that. He had been allowed to take a beautiful soul and feed it, nurture it and give his teach everything the man could ever desire and he had felt at peace from it. Until someone had tried to take his teach away from him. Now Darien was back to trying to keep ahead of the consequences at breakneck speed while hoping he wouldn’t crash.

He had to suck it up. Push through and keep his eye on the prize along with every other cliche fucking saying that would help him get through this. Not for him but for Beau. His teach needed him strong. Darien didn’t feel strong; he felt absolutely out of control. The one man he gave a fuck about had been assaulted and he hadn’t been able to do a thing. He hadn’t even known until hours later. It didn’t matter what he did to this Hayward dick in retribution, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed Beau, that he could fail him again at any time. He could wrap the blond in fucking bubble wrap and order him to stay at his feet but Beau was going to pursue the things that brought him joy even when pain swiftly followed.

Sighing, he lit up another cigarette. He didn’t take pain as well as Beau did. He didn’t like to feel pain; he liked to push past it and let it spur him into action. Watching his pretty teach take pain was an experience unmatched by any other. The man was beautiful—strong in such a way he was never going to be, and so fucking beautiful. The man embraced the good and the bad, the pleasure and pain, and he transformed it into something beyond with his own body. Beau was fucking magic and didn’t even know it.

It didn’t matter how hard Darien pushed himself. Life wasn’t scripted and there was always something waiting in the dark to try and prey on the weak and unlucky. He could only protect his teach to the best of his ability and hope that Beau would be able to take the burden of pain when he failed. He’d be able to carry his teach through after, but he couldn’t change the fucking world that would break the man in the first place.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
Bullying Teacher : Episode #4

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Weeks later, now living with his wealthy student, Beau has lost himself in his relationship with Darien. Full of doubts and insecurity, not to mention a blossoming realization of his true feelings for his muscular master, things go bad in the matter of a day when a new professor arrives.

Collin Hayward has never met Beau, but he knows men just like him, or so he seems to think. Cornered and used, Beau doesn’t know if telling Darien is worth the loss of the one good thing in his life.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on March 3, 2017
on December 25, 2016
on April 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Eyes sliding slowly around the room, Beau tried and failed to relax in the huge bathroom of marble, stainless steel and glass he was in. It was very open, very spacious and he felt both small and exposed whenever he stepped inside the luxurious but sterile room. That was helped by the fact that all the blinds on the floor to ceiling windows had been left open, the early morning light bouncing off each shining white, silver and black surface. Outside the window, an expansive green lawn could be seen, the grounds looking more like they belonged to a golf course than surrounding a person’s home. Or should he say mansion? His student called it home but Beau was fairly certain the only way to classify the building was as a mansion.

He slowly stripped his new silky pajamas off, his eyes drawn to the mirrored wall where he could see himself reflected clearly. From the angle, it looked like he was outside standing on the lush grass instead of the cool marble tile. Slender, toned and lithe, Beau’s blue eyes couldn’t tear away from the red marks wrapping around his thighs and hips in faded slashes. He was always so surprised to see the marks on his creamy flesh in the light of dawn, how they had come to be there feeling like a foggy, heated dream of the evening before. He traced over a thin red welt that ran right across his left nipple, his body jolting as he remembered how he had earned it. Darien had said he was just too pretty, that he had been begging for it so bad the last time he had shown up to class with his pretty teach. The ruler was the only way to deal with such a bad teacher.

It had been a little over two weeks since he had moved in with his student and Beau still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or seconds away from ruining his life.

Stepping around the jacuzzi tub that took up the entire length of the windowed wall, Beau set the electronic shower. The thing could turn into a sauna with a push of a button but he wasn’t the type to indulge in such extravagances. The multiheaded jets that hit him in all the right spots was far more than he was used to. The water hot and steamy, he slipped into the spray, his golden blond hair quickly drenched as he was lost in the sounds and sensations of the shower.

It didn’t matter how much the glass steamed up, Beau still felt exposed, still felt like he was being observed through the large open windows of the bathroom. He wasn’t a vain man even if he was beautiful. He had used to hate how girly he looked, how women would refuse to date him because they thought he was prettier than them. Now he prized his beauty only as much as it gained him the attention of the one person he didn’t want to look away from him. He could be beautiful for Darien. If it kept the young man holding him tight and tying him up, Beau would be as pretty as possible.

There was a camera on the other side of the glass shower wall. He wasn’t sure exactly where, but Darien had insisted when he had first showed him the bathroom, pointing vaguely in the direction. It had been a terrible problem, one Beau had found worse in the mornings when he woke hard and Darien was still asleep. He turned his back to the windowed wall where the camera was supposed to be, one of his hands lightly bracing on the shower wall while his other moved down to his crack, his fingers probing into his hot, tight flesh still sore from the evening before. Darien wouldn’t be up yet, the boy rarely rising before ten am, but Beau had classes to teach and a job to get to. He’d have to wait until after the school day was over to feel the brunette’s claiming touch and get proper relief for the ache already building inside him. It didn’t stop him from driving his fingers deep inside his entrance, bending forward while gasping and putting himself on display for Darien just in case the boy did wake and look at the footage he kept of the bathroom.

That Darien had expressly forbidden him from coming without him present to see only made him harder.

Beau bit his lip, gasping softly under the sound of water hitting his flesh and the tile. It was only the second time he was trying this, still shy since having moved into the large mansion with his student. There weren’t a lot of places where he was alone, Darien usually right next to him. The idea of the boy watching him masturbate in the shower when he wasn’t supposed to was intense for him. He wasn’t even sure if there was really a camera. He wasn’t sure if Darien even looked at it if there was and if anything could be seen past the steam. But touching himself in such an open, spacious room felt hot like anyone could just walk by and see.

He really wanted Darien to see him. Really wanted the boy to know he was thinking of him with every plunge of his fingers into his passage.

His calves straining, he spread his legs wider on the slightly coarse stone floor that kept him from slipping. He clenched around his fingers, groaning lowly only to cover his mouth. Noises still made him feel like he was crossing a line and he could only allow himself so much before he got too shy. If Darien had been there, it would have different, but alone, Beau’s courage was very limited. Not that it was courage that had him riding his own fingers and whimpering desperately under his breath with each stroke that failed to hit his prostate. No, it was a mix of need and shame and giddy anticipation of the many things Darien had already done to him and would hopefully continue to do.

There was a noise under the sounds of the shower spray, Beau stilling his movements and pressing his face against the warming tile. His lashes dripping droplets of water, he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of his tight entrance when no new sounds were heard. He wanted to pretend he was being watched, his body flushed and tingling at the very thought. Darien had a slew of nameless servants that breezed through rooms silent as could be. On more than one occasion, he had been in the middle of a session with his student only to catch a glimpse of a person watching as they stepped by the door.

Beau groaned lowly, his muscles straining as he imagined those faceless people watching him now. He came with a cry, his passage clenched painfully tight around his fingers as he shoved them as deep as they could reach. Moaning, he ran his tongue over the immaculate tile wall, wishing he had a dildo or just his very large student to take him properly.

Hell, even alone he was getting messed up. He had to wonder if it was Darien doing it to him or just the craziness inside that had been allowed to be let lose.

The shower door clicked open, Beau gasping and staring straight ahead at the shower tile as cool air rushed into the enclosed space. For a frozen eternity, he questioned who it could be because he had yet to see Darien up this early. A servant? Maybe a relative of Darien’s that was wondering who the fucked up man was masturbating in the boy’s shower?

“Bad, teach. Very fucking bad.”

Melting at the words and the boy they belonged to, Beau raised his head, peeking over his shoulder. Darien was standing in the shower doorway, his muscular chest bare and tanned, black tattoos running over his thick biceps possessively. His hair was mussed from sleep, the boy dressed hastily in a pair of low hanging jeans, the bottoms already wet from the water spraying and bouncing off the floor.

Green eyes glared at him, Beau whimpering when he met that burning stare. He was in trouble and he couldn’t wait to find out what his punishment would be.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

sins-mocha-rose-120x103
Demon Arms

The Paranormal Adademy For Troubled Boys Book 1

Wylie Doe has screwed himself once again with the help of his freakish demon arms. Sentenced to an academy for out of control paranormal boys, he finds himself surrounded by shifters, sorcerers, and halflings while facing an identity crisis. He has a dragon inside him that’s in love with a sorcerer he’s only just met.

Dorian Black is wealthy, cool, and extraordinarily powerful, but he hides a deadly secret. Drawn to Wylie and his alpha shifter ways, he can’t stop his dangerous attraction or the literal sparks that fly between them. Wylie’s everything Dorian’s been dreaming of but isn’t allowed to have.

When gangsters call Wylie out to face his past, he’s ready to take responsibility for his mistakes. Will Dorian finally make a stand for the boy he’s fallen for? Or will Wylie find out the hard way if his dragon scales can stop a downpour of bullets?

This novel contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language and violence. Expect sexual tension, animal behavior, mating of a very wet variety, angst, bloodlust, an institution filled with hot paranormal boys, first time experiences and some sweet sap near the end. All sexually active characters are 18+

101,000+ wrds, Published April 1, 2016.
Heat level: X

$2.99

exclusive-sins-dia

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DEMON ARMS

on August 20, 2016
Read this book NOW, you will not be disappointed. The chemistry between Wylie and Dorian so hot that you will need a cold shower. This book is so good that I have already re-read it about four or five times ?, and I have no doubt that I will read it again and again.
on August 23, 2016
I sincerely hope there will be a continuation to this series, man it was awesome!
It was sexy, funny, had great characters, great character development and even though it was a case of (almost) insta-lust/love it worked freaking well for this story, because they still took their time.
I really really want to know what’s going to happen to Dante, Vince, Fox, Wylie and Dorian, as well as the rest of the academy…
Awesome, awesome story!!!!
on February 26, 2017
I chose this book through the instafreebie giveaway program and I love it! Dragons, sorcerers, gangsters, magic, shape shifters and romance! What a heady combination. Take Hogwarts and Harry Potter and go a step further. I loved the action, angst and danger thrown in with two guys so hot sparks fly and a total transformation occurs for the first time. You’ll rejoice for Dante, grieve for Leo and laugh with Vincent and Fox. I was so excited to see that this is the first in a series. I definitely wasn’t ready to leave The Academy forever. And now I won’t have to!
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

It was Wylie’s first burglary and he already wondered how bad it would go down. It was off to a shit start and his expectations weren’t rising as time ticked by.

They’d been sitting outside the huge gates for a good ten minutes now. The engine of the black van rumbled while the group waited for the little tech-wiz to hack them in. It was a small crew and they were all new to the game except their asshole leader for the night, Diego. He was the driver, his job to point out shit to steal and all around bark orders like an angry motherfucker. Adam was the kid genius who kept humming nervously as he typed on his mini keyboard up front. Wylie was the freak in the back of the van. Muscle would be the preferred term, but Diego had insisted on calling him a freak since meeting an hour ago. Wylie chose to embrace it for the night instead of getting pissed off. The lookout with his hand in Wylie’s pocket and lips wet on his neck was his recent boyfriend, Beck.

Wylie was ready to smash Diego’s face in. The gangster was as mean as a junkyard dog and just as foul. He was surprised the vicious bastard didn’t turn into a wolf or even a badass mangy dog. But Diego smelled all human, just like the rest of the crew, which left Wylie as the only guy who could transform into something else.

What that something might be, he had no freaking idea. It wasn’t a full transformation, just his arms. Wylie’s black scales didn’t look like any shifter animal he knew of. Even so, the shift allowed the blond eighteen-year-old to break through locked doors, metal gates and even safes with a strength no human possessed. Not knowing what he was didn’t make it any less impressive, and Wylie’s demon arms were enough to get him into the initiation with Roth’s gang that night.

He hadn’t actually set out to join a gang when he started hanging with Beck a few months back. Beck was a tight piece of ass who liked to get into trouble to piss his religious nut-job parents off. He was the first person to not freak when Wylie’s arms transformed into scaled, demonically powerful weapons. Actually, it kind of got Beck off. Wylie never thought he’d find someone that fucked. But then again, he had demon arms and liked dick, so he supposed they were even on the freak level.

Diego’s irritated growl from the front of the van made Wylie again think of a mutt. Their timetable was going out the fucking window. Adam’s hands kept shaking and they had no damn clue if the kid was getting the job done. Wylie knew nothing about computers. Still, better to fuck it up while no crime was committed, than fuck it up shit deep in the mansion they were planning on emptying.

Wylie had only met Adam once before. The kid reeked of so much fear, he couldn’t understand what the hell he was doing running with Roth. But maybe Adam was one of those types who didn’t want to be afraid anymore. Wylie sure as fuck didn’t know. He stopped being afraid years ago when he realized no matter how many foster families told him he was no good, he could still survive on his own. Even if he didn’t get into the gang, Wylie knew he’d be fucking fine.

Beck’s hand drifted lower and Wylie grabbed his wrist. He gave him a look his boyfriend couldn’t see in the dark. “Quit being a pervy kink. Focus.”

“Don’t be that way.” Beck pressed his lips to Wylie’s jaw and smirked against his skin. “You’re going to fuck me tonight. We’re going to ace this shit, and you’re going to come over to my place and fuck me with those studly arms of yours out while my parents sleep.”

Beck was fucked and Wylie really had no complaints about it. Well, except the screwing with his scales out. He was always worried he might accidentally hurt him. When you could tear through metal, human flesh was fucking butter in comparison.

Wylie didn’t get a chance to answer. The gate gave a sudden shudder and the wrought iron blocking the driveway opened smoothly on motorized tracks. Hallelujah. Diego muttered a long line of relief-filled curses—apparently he was shit with computers, too—and pulled the van up the long drive. They parked close to the side door, their entry point into the downstairs lounge and bar.

Diego glared at the group as he killed the engine. “Remember, the house will be empty. It’s almost winter and the owner flies south to some fucking island. Beck, you’re lookout, at the door, ear on the scanner for signs of cops. No matter what we’re carrying, you don’t leave that post until it’s time to go. Adam, get your ass out. I want you tagging stuff that needs to be moved.”

All the outside lights were on along with a few internal ones, but that was to be expected with the place empty for months at a time. Looking full of people was as much a deterrent as actually being full of people. They didn’t bother wearing masks. Adam had taken the cameras down along with all the other security, and there was no fear of being spotted.

Wylie left Beck with the van. He gripped his boyfriend’s shoulder in farewell, which earned him a smile. Beck wasn’t fearless but he got off on adrenaline and that was good enough.

Adam practically threw himself backward when Wylie approached. He stared up at his heavily scaled arms like he was some hellspawn demon there to kill him and his entire family. It was a look Wylie had grown used to since the age of eight and was sometimes more comforting than Beck’s unique response.

Diego growled at him and pointed to the door just in case Wylie was too retarded to figure out the reason he was there.

“Alarm dead?”

“Of course it’s fucking dead. Open the shit and shut up,” Diego snapped.

Wylie licked his teeth; his fangs itched to bite the aggressive fucker on the face. He reached across and drew a long, black talon down between the seam of the door and molding. He found the metal bolts, three in all, and with precise slams of his palm, knocked each one through the reinforced door and into the room behind. Satisfied, he wrenched the handle, opened the door with a flourish and waved the scowling Diego in. Adam took longer to enter; he was very busy trembling like a hyperventilating rabbit. Diego snapped at him and he finally scurried past.

Adam’s fear scent was getting to Wylie and made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Sure, the kid could get past security but he was useless in the house. He was too waif-limbed to carry shit and skittish to trust as a lookout. Beck was a sweet talker and if some nosy neighbor came sneaking her head over the fence, Beck could come up with a lie and a smile on his pretty face in a second flat. Not so much Adam, who managed to trip twice just walking through the empty room.

“Start grabbing anything that looks worthwhile,” Diego ordered the shaking Adam. He pointed to the wall of electronics in the downstairs room to the right. Wylie followed with his eyes, brows furrowed. He really didn’t know shit about computers and tech and stuff, but there was a lot of shiny metal and plastic shit there. If he went by Adam’s expression, it wasn’t the run of the mill stuff you usually found in some rich bitch’s house.

“This is military grade,” Adam whispered. His eyes widened as he reached for something that looked to be solid steel and more than twice his weight.

“Figure out what’s important and we’ll be down to move what you can’t lift,” Diego said impatiently. “Come on, freak. The safe’s upstairs.”

His eyes strayed to where Adam was flicking something on that looked disturbingly like a laser. Wylie followed the muttering gangster through the long hallways. They must’ve gotten the plans to the place in advance or Diego had been there before. He seemed to know exactly where to go and didn’t bother to turn on lights even in the darker hallways. Wylie admitted to a mild appreciation of his skill, glad he wasn’t some bumbling idiot who didn’t know what he was doing. He could put up with the asshole if Diego managed to get them through the night alive and out of jail.

The stairs were a huge, wide expanse, easily able to fit a damn concert on the steps alone. Wylie kept his senses alert. He heard Diego’s breathing as the man muttered under his breath. There was a ticking as they passed a large echoing room housing a tall grandfather clock, along with…

Wylie turned his head as he caught a whiff of the flowers sitting in a vase on a table down the hall. Worry prickled in the back of his mind and without a word, he turned and walked toward the scent.

They were fresh, daffodils and small white daisies. Diego gave a low grunt when he realized Wylie was no longer behind him, and stomped over to his new location. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Fresh flowers,” Wylie said tightly. He glared when the gangster looked ready to go off on him. “They’re not even wilted. Who puts flowers out in an empty house?”

His eyes narrowed. Diego stepped forward and smelled the flowers briefly to see if they were real. He shrugged. “Look at the fucking place. Do you really think someone this rich does normal shit? Maybe the fucking maid put them out just in case they got robbed and wanted to make things look nice for us. Now hurry the fuck up.”

Not even remotely convinced, Wylie considered getting the fuck out. It was midnight and whoever was there—maid, butler, guest, or owner—would likely be in bed in one of the many rooms in the maze of a place. It was one thing to steal shit; it was another to terrorize people while stealing shit.

Diego turned and waved his hand in an exaggerated movement to tell him to get the fuck over there already. Wylie bit his tongue and followed. Fuck, for all he knew the fucking rich put flowers out every day even when no one was home. Rich people were fucking crazy where money lifted them as far from reality as drugs ever could for a strung out crack whore. Shit, whoever lived there had rooms for their stuff, not for their people. Who was he to say for certain what went on in the minds of the ultra-rich?

Diego led him surefooted down a long corridor. He touched doors and counted as they went. He stopped where dim light greeted through a narrow band of an open door. “The office. Jewels and bonds are in here, some cash.” He pulled something from the inside of his black leather coat, and unfolded a canvas duffle bag. “Safe’s on the far side wall past the windows and desk. Bunch of books opens up like a door. Empty the entire thing and then meet me in the bedroom, five doors that way, left side.” He pointed down the hall.

Wylie took the bag while wondering what the fuck was in the bedroom Diego wanted to go alone for. He kept his mouth shut. He was there for one purpose; to do what he was told so that he could get in with Roth. Wylie stepped into the study and paused on the threshold. He looked around carefully but the dim table lamp revealed no sign of life. Still, he was pretty sure he smelled the distinct scent of human flesh, only mildly stale. Older, male… Cigar smoker…

The butler, he told himself briskly as he walked the length of the room. Whoever left flowers probably checked the rooms on occasion during the day, and did dusting or some shit. He didn’t know; it wasn’t like he’d ever be in a situation where he’d need to keep a mansion looking nice. He found the false wall of books easy enough, and raised a brow at the ridiculousness of it all. The house alone screamed money. Clearly anyone who looked would know money was also inside.

The safe was large and bolted to the floor. A dial and handle revealed the need for a combination. He considered the metal contraption in silence. Wylie punched his hand forward, then his other, and slowly curled and bent the metal door down. He twisted it like a thin tin of spam. He really was just made for this shit.

He swept each shelf into the black duffle and paused as the stacks of money flipped past his view. Fucking rich people. If they put their money in a bank, people wouldn’t walk into their house to steal their shit. But hell, maybe the tens of thousands swiftly sailing into the bag was equivalent to spare change in the couch for normal people? Giant mansion, giant tech, giant amounts of dough; the rich were just too fucking large to comprehend.

The jewelry was harder to ignore, harder to resist the strange urge to grab, touch, hold the gems and stare at them for hours. He wasn’t a materialistic person, not really, but sometimes Wylie had issues, strange ones that came up when his scales were out.

The crazy wealth brimming in the mansion would have been a total orgy for Beck. Probably for the best they left him in the driveway. Thoughts of Beck got Wylie hustling faster; he didn’t want to linger and leave him exposed outside for too long.

The bag was bursting by the time the safe was empty, but he just pushed his scales further up his arms to reinforce his shoulders. Wylie’s demon arms were limited. Where the scales reached, his muscles and bones beneath changed to something beyond human, but only there. The shift also imbued his senses with the creature he couldn’t fully turn into. The scents in the room were vibrant with information when he breathed in again.

Yeah, there was a man in there recently. He could smell the sweat now and found a glass by the stand of alcohol that held the slightest sour hint of clinging saliva and bacteria. If it was the butler, he sure as fuck wasn’t afraid to leave his booze stealing ways out for all to see.

Wylie didn’t bother counting the doors. Instead he followed Diego’s scent down the hallway. The door was closed and he pushed it open only to inhale sharply as scent and sight revealed a shit storm.

“Don’t fucking do it, man.” Wylie stepped into the room.

Diego glanced his way and waved him off with the hand not holding a gun. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Help the twerp with the—” He fell silent when Wylie threw the heavy duffle on the ground defiantly.

“Pick it up and get the fuck downstairs, freak!” Diego yelled. He now pointed the gun at Wylie instead of the bleeding man crumpled on the floor of the bedroom. There was a safe built into the wall, door currently wide open with cash spread out on the hardwood like a paper waterfall.

“Why? So you can kill this guy?” Anger filled Wylie’s voice. “We’re here to rob, not fucking kill. You think Roth is going to pat you on the back for murdering some poor slob in his fucking bed? He’s going to fucking kill you for fucking things up so royally.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Diego sounded tough but doubt crept into his beady eyes.

“We’ve got the money. I cleared out the fucking safe, and the little shit downstairs is rolling in enough tech to give him a woody. Just walk the fuck away, man.”

“I can’t!” Diego shifted from one foot to the other and pointed his gun with two hands back to the man on the floor. The stranger’s eyes were open, hazy from the head-wound. Blood that looked black in the dark room flowed down his forehead and cheek. “The rich fuck saw my face. I’m not going back to prison. I am fucking done with prison!”

Wylie began to feel the first signs of fear trickle past his strong defenses. Diego was going to waste this guy. It didn’t matter what the fuck he said, no matter how much money was at hand; Diego was more afraid of being caged again than of taking a life. Wylie hadn’t realized he still had something left to be afraid of, but apparently seeing an innocent man get shot to death was it.

“Listen to me, really closely here.” Wylie took another step into the room. He was about seven feet from Diego. It definitely wasn’t close enough to do a flying leap faster than a bullet. But if he could just inch a bit closer…

“Let’s say he manages to describe you even though the lighting is total shit in here and he’s got an egg on the side of his head the size of my fist. Let’s just say he doesn’t have brain damage or memory loss and he can describe you.” He stole another step closer. Diego was still staring at the old dude and not at him.

“What’s he going to say? It’s just a face. There are a fucking million people who look like you. You’re not pretty, you’re not ugly. It’s just a damn face, man.”

“I’m not going back!” Diego snarled and snapped his gaze back to Wylie. “You don’t fucking understand what it’s like in there, freak. What they fucking do to you! Hands like yours, they might leave you the fuck alone. But me? You think they care if I’m pretty or not? You think they care if I run with anyone? They—”

“Stop. Chill the fuck out.” Wylie could just pick up the sounds of Adam calling softly down the hall; he was probably wondering what was taking them so long. “If it all goes to shit, you’re either in for robbery—which is a fucking cakewalk—or it’s murder. They’ll never let you out if you kill this guy. You fucking hearing me? They will lock you away with the animals forever!”

“Shit… shit!” Diego shook with indecision and his expression twisted in fear. “I have priors… It’s not robbery, it’s fucking armed robbery.”

Wylie’s patience was done. “This isn’t just about you, you selfish fuck!”

“What, I’m supposed to give a fuck about the rich asshole who wasn’t supposed to be here!” Diego shouted back, his face red.

“The lookout, you dick! The fucking nerd! Me! You’re setting us all up for life if you—”

Adam pushed into the bedroom and Wylie felt the trigger squeeze before it happened. His muscles screamed as he lunged forward and knocked into Diego’s tall form.

The gunshot was an explosion of sound in his ear. Wylie’s hypersensitive senses reeled from the sudden light and noise. Diego went down heavily. He fired off another shot before Wylie wrestled the gun from his hands.

Wylie lurched to his feet, and he hauled the whimpering gangster up. Diego’s flesh was torn and bloodied from where Wylie’s inhuman claws and sharp scales had sliced and scraped. He turned to the door. Adam smelled of piss and fear. His eyes were wide and fixed unblinking on the man huddled on the floor. Wylie didn’t dare look; he could scent the blood quickly pooling and heard the man’s shattered breaths gasping for air.

“Get to the van, kid.”

“What about… W-What about the stuff?” Adam choked out. Tears began to stream down his small face and with an effort, Adam turned from the view of the dying man. He looked green. Wylie really hoped he wasn’t going to hurl.

“Now!” Wylie shouted.

Adam quickly backpedaled away when Wylie stormed to the door. He dragged the now-screaming Diego, who couldn’t escape the clawed hand that gripped his arm and carelessly sliced deep into the muscle of his bicep. Wylie followed the scent of their trail and strode through the mansion. They left far faster and much less cautiously than when they arrived. Wylie held Diego’s slumped form under one of his monstrous arms as they descended the wide staircase. Each step of pain wrenched more blood and weaker sounds from the flailing gangster. Adam scurried behind and bit his fingernails. He was silent as he watched Diego’s clothes and flesh shred in Wylie’s merciless hold.

They found Beck at the outer door. His dark eyes revealed he heard the gunshots.

“You’re driving, B.” Wylie moved to the back of the van and threw Diego’s barely conscious form in with the pile of electronics Adam had salvaged. As an afterthought, he reached in and grabbed Diego’s cell, then slammed the door.

“What, are you getting in front—Wylie!” Beck chased after him when he headed back to the house. “What the fuck are you doing, man?”

“Making sure that guy doesn’t fucking die!” Wylie turned and jerked away when Beck reached for him, his scaled arms too dangerous to touch. “Get them the hell out of here, B. Diego might need a hospital. I fucked him up bad trying to get the gun from him.”

“Don’t! Just come with us—baby, fuck, don’t do this!” Beck pleaded frantically with tears glowing in his eyes. “No one will know it was us. No one will fucking know and we can just… just…”

“Hurry up, B. That asshole is going to need you to help him after his huge fuck up.” Wylie’s smile was grim when he leaned down and pressed a swift kiss to Beck’s cheek. “Don’t let him pin this on you with Roth. I gotta call an ambulance so I need you safe and out of here first, okay?”

“Shit… Shit, you’re such a fucking idiot,” Beck whispered. His eyes still pleaded for him to come with. Hesitantly, he stepped backward. His gaze never left Wylie until he reached the open driver’s door. He disappeared in the van and the headlights glared to life. Beck’s voice was rough when he snapped something at the hysterical Adam and turned the van around in the driveway.

Yeah, definitely. He was as fucking stupid as they came.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!