Duty Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 2 (13 page)

Zach’s own cock swelled at the sight of Jake’s growing in size. The mention of women made it even worse. They hadn’t been completely naked since last summer. “I guess I’ll get me a female.”

“Yeah, the sooner the better. Been so long since I fucked me a woman, you’re beginning to look good to me.” Jake stared across at Zach, the smile slipping from his face, his mouth tightening. “Strike that. Didn’t mean that to come out that way.”

Zach laughed. His laughter did sound a bit strained, even to his own ears. “Know what you mean, buddy. You’re a fine specimen of a man. Any woman would be proud to have you.”

“You ain’t hard to look at yourself. Now that you’ve scraped off that beard, all you need is to slather on some of that fancy cologne the dandies wear in Denver and you’d be right charmin’. Ain’t no reason you couldn’t catch you some sweet young thing to get hitched to.”

His mind on the man next to him, the only human he’d spoken to in months, Zach could hardly picture a woman, much less a pretty one, he’d like lookin’ at for the rest of his days.

Squashing down the disturbing attraction he’d been feeling toward his claim partner, he sighed and lay back on the rock. “Who are we foolin’? What woman in her right mind would want to hole up in a shack with a couple of galoots for months on end?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Maybe he saw the wisdom in Zach’s words and silently agreed.

The next thing Zach knew, Jake had leaped onto his rock, grabbed him under the arms and legs and flung him into the pool. “Speak for yerself, old man. I’m getting me a woman if it’s the last thing I do.”

Zach hit the surface, the chill robbing him of breath. He went under and came up in time for Jake to land a big splash next to him, blasting him with a spray of water that left him spluttering.

Jake jerked his leg out from beneath him and Zach went under, grabbing for whatever handhold he could get, taking Jake back down with him.

When they finally came up for air, they stood face-to-face, close enough to touch…if they dared.

Inside, Zach knew his feelings for Jake were wrong. Men weren’t supposed to lust after men. What would people say?

Hell, who would know? They lived so far in the back country the only living creatures they saw were wolves, deer and a few stray Indians.

If he wanted to touch Jake, he could and no one would be the wiser. His hand was halfway there before he realized what he was doing and jerked it back.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Jake asked. He reached out and laid his hand over Zach’s heart. “You want me as bad as I want you, don’t you?”

Zach shook his head, even as he wanted to shout,
Yes
.

Jake’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “I know what you’re thinkin’. It ain’t right. Men aren’t supposed to like each other. You know…that way.” His hand slid down Zach’s torso and into the water where even the cool mountain stream couldn’t shrink his arousal.

When Jake’s hand circled his cock, Zach jumped back. “Damn, Jake. It ain’t right.” Revulsion warred with desire. Jake’s hand had felt good. Damn good and Zach wanted more.

“Who’s around to say it ain’t right?” Jake waved at the forest around them before his gaze settled on Zach’s face. “I’d wondered what it would feel like to touch you there.” He closed the distance between them again. “Don’t you wonder?” He lifted Zach’s hand and guided it to his rock-hard dick. “See? The sky ain’t gonna crash in. The world ain’t comin’ to an end. We’re just two men.”

“Two men sinnin’.” Zach’s fingers curled around Jake’s cock, reveling in the rush of heat pooling in his own groin. He backed away, his hand falling to his side. “We best get back to the shack. We got work to do before we can make that trip to Idaho Springs. Never know how long this good weather’s gonna hold out.”

Jake sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Not yet. I want more.” He stared across at Zach. The way his gray-eyed gaze locked on him made Zach’s cock swell even larger.

If he didn’t find some relief soon, he’d explode. “You’re killin’ me, Jake,” Zach said. “If we weren’t such good friends, I’d punch you.”

Jake glanced down at Zach’s engorged member. “I just know I can help you there.”

Zach shook his head, the horror of what would happen if the men of the hills found out making him resist when all he wanted was Jake’s hands on him again.

“Let me.” Jake reached out again and this time Zach didn’t back away. Seeing Jake naked made him hornier than a boy with his first whore.

As Jake’s fingers closed around his cock, Zach shut his eyes. “We really need to get to Idaho Springs and find us some women.”

“We will. Soon enough. But for now…” Jake smoothed his hand over the length of Zach’s shaft.

She vows to protect her heart…until love burns away her resistance.

The Courtesan’s Bed

© 2010 Sandrine O’Shea

Régine Laflamme rules as the Queen of Fire, the Paris demimonde’s most notorious and accomplished courtesan. Wealthy men shower her with riches and vie to become her next conquest. Respectable women shun her. Other courtesans envy her.

No one knows she was once an innocent young governess, ruined and turned out by a cruel lord. And now, years later, she spies her seducer’s son—a man who never answered her frantic pleas for help.

Darius, Earl of Clarridge, has never stopped searching for the woman who haunts him. He doesn’t expect her to believe that her letters never reached him. No, he will regain her trust in a way she understands—by promising to give her more pleasure than she’s ever known.

In spite of her misgivings, Régine is intrigued and takes Darius up on his boast. To her surprise, he conquers not only her body, but captures her very heart.

Yet beyond the haven of her boudoir, two men scheme to possess her for their own. When one of them kidnaps and enslaves her, she clings desperately to a new hope—that this time Darius will find her before it’s too late.

Warning: This novel contains scenes of graphic sex, bondage, S/M, anal pleasuring of the hero, and a two-women-one-man threesome in a brothel.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Courtesan’s Bed:

“What would be your terms?”

He threw out a monthly stipend that made her swallow hard, added a generous clothing allowance that surpassed that of a certain profligate duchess of his acquaintance, and assured her he was known to most of the jewelers in London.

She smiled seductively. “And what are your requirements in the boudoir, monsieur?”

He returned her smile. “As often as you like, and I promise you will want me often. But if there are days you wish a respite, that will be fine too.”

A faint flush warmed her cheeks. “You’re very confident.”

“It’s one of my finer attributes.”

She smiled, obviously amused.

“So,” he said, staring deeply into those expressive eyes, “do we have an agreement?”

“There is much to consider.”

He let his gaze rove over her face like a slow, soft caress, settling on her delectable mouth. “Perhaps a kiss would convince you of the seriousness of my intentions.”

She stared boldly at his lips and patted the place next to her on the settee. “By all means, monsieur.”

He sat down, angling his body so he faced her, and draped one arm across the back of the settee just behind her shoulders. She leaned toward him, willingly turning her head. He raised his hand and gently traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Her skin was as dewy and silken as a rose petal in the morning. When he reached her chin, he tilted her head and leaned over to reach her voluptuous, inviting mouth with his own.

He kissed her lightly at first, a mere pressing of the lips to both soothe and arouse her.

She responded with a sigh and the parting of her soft, sweet lips for an open-mouthed kiss that tasted faintly of brandy. Then he deepened his kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She moaned softly and stroked his tongue with her own, sending a tremor of desire rocking through his body, straight to his prick.

She raised her hand to his cheek, and he thought he’d melt at her tender touch. He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her even closer, needing to feel her warmth, pleased that he’d caused such a response.

When they parted, breathless and panting, Regina purred, “You kiss very well, Clarridge.”

Then she undid the top three buttons of her gown in blatant invitation.

He stayed her hand. “That’s not necessary.” At least, not yet.

Her expression turned perplexed. “But I thought you wished to please me.”

“I do.”

“Well, it would please me if you’d touch my breasts.”

Ah, so she was testing him to see how far he’d go. He hadn’t expected her to move so fast, or talk so frankly, but she was experienced and accustomed to being intimate with strangers without preamble or coyness.

He grinned. “Touching your beautiful breasts would certainly please me.”

He caressed the long column of her ivory neck, causing her to tremble beneath his fingers. But rather than undoing the rest of the buttons, parting the fine silk fabric and burrowing for the Promised Land of her bare breasts, he practiced the art of gradual arousal, which he knew from long experience that most women appreciated. He placed his hand on her left breast, feeling its soft fullness beneath the layer of cloth.

Regina closed her eyes with a gentle sigh, and her head fell back against his arm.

Darius squeezed gently, and her nipple hardened provocatively. Regina’s lips parted. He teased the rigid nubbin with his thumb, and then moved to the other breast for the same tender ministrations.

“Do you like the way I touch you?” He certainly relished his own reaction to touching her, the warm fullness that swelled his cock and made his heart race with dizzying speed.

She caught her breath and murmured a ragged, “Oh, yes,” when he raked her tender earlobe with his teeth.

He worked her nipple harder with his thumb, and when she made a satisfied whimper at the abrading fabric, he swiftly undid the buttons so he could slip his hand beneath the silk and touch her warm, bare flesh, which overflowed his hand as he cupped it possessively.

Her sharp intake of breath at his intimate touch heightened his own arousal.

She was like absinthe, one color until another ingredient transformed it. And he just wanted to drink and drink and drink until he went mad.

He caught the straining bud between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed gently. She cried out. He smiled, pleased that he could coax such a reaction out of her.

He increased the intensity of his caresses while trying to maintain his own fragile self-control, moving from one tempting breast to the other. He felt a heady sense of triumph and power when her groans grew louder.

For one second he wondered if her response was genuine or the pretense of a calculating courtesan seeking to give her protector his money’s worth.

Her eyes flew open. They were drowsy with passion and delight that couldn’t be faked. She pouted prettily. “You are cruel to torment me so.”

“How ungentlemanly of me. I shall have to remedy that failure.”

He opened the bodice to bare her breasts. They were perfect, round and heavy, full enough for him to bury his face in their ivory softness and lose himself in their sweet scent. He thought both his cock and his head would explode.

“Your beauty leaves me breathless.” His exhaling breath warmed her large, rosy nipples. He teased them with the tip of his tongue, wetting first one, and then the other. He lifted his gaze to Regina’s face, pleased to see her closed eyes, an expression of transported bliss giving her ivory complexion a luminous glow. He had demolished her reservations and her misgivings with his persistence.

He waited until her breathing grew more uneven and impatient before he grasped the breast to steady it, took the inviting puckered tip into his mouth and sucked, gently at first, then harder, with the eagerness of a starving man too long denied.

Régine’s high-pitched cry filled the drawing room, and she arched her back, offering herself to him in an ageless gesture of female surrender.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him in place, demanding his touch.

Now he pleasured her right breast with his eager mouth and the other moist nipple with his fingers, driving her wild with abandon. If she reacted so strongly to just having her breasts caressed, he was willing to bet the earth would shudder and shake when he brought her to orgasm.

He reluctantly raised his head, gently stroking her to ease the abruptness of his withdrawal.

Regina’s eyes flew open. “Why did you stop?”

He drew the bodice together to cover her. “Because if I keep going, I’ll make love to you right here, right now.”

She looked confused. “But I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Not for our first time.”

She raised her brows. “You surprise me. You are so different from the other men I’ve known.”

He smiled and drew her hand to his lips, lightly brushing her knuckles. “You’ll find me to be a very surprising fellow.”

She buttoned her bodice with crisp efficiency. “I’m looking forward to discovering all your secrets.”

Love lifted her heart to the skies. The rest of her needed a little more help.

Flavia’s Flying Corset

© 2010 Sahara Kelly

A
Silk, Steel and Steam
Story

When Flavia Winters enters the aerial carriage that will convey her across churning waters to the magnificent, isolated castle of Dr. Harland Gennaro, it’s not a polite social call. Nor does she hope to re-ignite their former passion. Oh, no. She’s convinced the renowned scientist stole something of value from her lab, and she plans to get it back by
whatever
means necessary.

Once Harland blinks away the temporary blindness caused by Flavia’s clever magnesium beads, he finds himself tied to a chair as she insists he return a vital ingredient for some impossibility called “Icarus”. Then she demonstrates with the last of her compound, and all he can think about is convincing her he’s not the guilty party—and getting into the lab with her to recreate her gravity-defying wonder.