Sweet
Capture Fantasy
You’ve
all heard of sweet romance, right? Kept is an anthology of sweet capture
fantasies. Since my recent stories have ventured into the darkest heart of dark
erotica where consent is often dubious or absent, I thought it best to say out
front and center that these Kept stories
are meant to have you smiling and maybe even shedding some tears at the sweet
romance.
That
capture element is in all of these but before she’s dragged into bed, the hero,
or in one case the heroine, convinces the woman that she wants to be possessed.
In mine, the way she’s convinced is a little naughty. But it is an alien-come-down-to-Earth story.
I’m pretty sure a big hunky scrumptious alien is allowed to inject her with a
weird aphrodisiac that also turns her into his pet-slave...right?
Come
to think of it we also feature in these stories succubus powers, vampire powers
and other nefarious powers that are used to make the heroine a quivering
aroused mess groveling at the feet of the hero until she’s begging him to take
her. Maybe I’m not the only naughty author?
If
you disagree with the use of weird powers to capture and arouse women, fill out
the form to the right that’s on the desk.
Look
out for the... Ooops. The trapdoor that drops you into a cage. You accidentally
fell in?
I
promise I’ll tell Stom (he’s my alien preyfinder). Yes, he does have your best
interests at heart. And yes, getting naked and being cuffed, collared, and
leashed to the wall is pretty standard procedure when you’re rescued from the
cage.
Right...dusting
off hands...where were we?
Oh
my. What an empty room.
I
don’t think I meant for you all to fall into the cage. Tsk tsk.
And
you’re supposed to wait for Stom to make you naked. Oh fine, do it your way.
I’m sure we have some extra alpha males stashed away somewhere for a rainy day.
Who
wants the alien king or the succubus? Good. The goblin? (a leftover, none of us
wrote him in a story)
Raise
your hand, please. If you can’t because of the weight of the manacles, tough.
Sheesh,
some of you are picky. Anyone want a vampire who can ravish a woman from dusk
til dawn and not get tired?
*silence
then a storm of sound resembling an avalanche and much feminine screaming*
Book
Warning: Erotic capture fantasies can be addictive. Before opening this ebook a
health check is recommended. While reading you may experience heart
palpitations, a terrible state of arousal, and need to change your panties
several times. Batteries for vibes are not included.
BLURB:
From the darkest parts of the underworld, to aliens hunting on Earth, to
planets far away, each of these capture-themed novellas by six bestselling
authors takes you on a wild ride that will heat up your fantasies and keep you
up all night long…reading.
From Holly S. Roberts - Can Sergeant Kelly Myers sacrifice her blood and
body to a vampire to save her country or is Talon worse than the evil trying to
kill them all?
From Angela Castle - Can alien King K’marr convince Ash they are Soul
Bonds or will she let him succumb to the abyss of madness?
From Cari Silverwood’s new Preyfinder series - A Preyfinder is trained to
withstand hardship and pain, and Jadd would rather kneel before a firestorm than
leave his captive, Brittany, to be stalked and killed.
From Sorcha Black - Lying tangled in her sheets each night, dreaming of
sex, virginal Shiloh never means to tempt the spying succubus.
From C.L. Scholey - Two hot aliens take the form of friends and spirit Cali
away aboard their alien vessel.
From Leia Shaw - After accidentally turning off a device that could destroy
earth, Maggie is abducted by a man with an accent as sexy as his looks and taken
to Scotland to fix the device.
PG Excerpt from Crimson by Holly Roberts
His whisper sent shivers across my skin, “Past the alcohol, I smell your
arousal. It’s calling my name, as does your blood.”
His hand ran over my arm, fingers trailing the sculpted outline of muscle.
I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. Every nerve I possessed craved his
touch, vibrated with need and screamed for more.
More him, more burn between my thighs, just—more.
One hand remained in my hair; the other tipped my chin up so I looked into
his eyes. “I’m hungry but I don’t think I can ignore the alcohol.” He sniffed me
again. “I have one question. Are you here willingly?”
“What?” I couldn’t have heard him correctly. What the fuck did willing have
to do with this?
“Are. You. Willing?” This time he asked slowly.
I tried to shake my head but his grasp was too firm. The haze that clouded
my brain since entering the room dissipated slightly. “What does willing have to
do with anything?”
His eyes penetrated straight through me. I could feel them dissecting my
brain, seeking answers that I was unable to give. “It has everything to do with
everything.”
The sudden release of my hair and chin had me stumbling back. Grabbing my
arm to steady me, he looked down at my shoes. Dropping to one knee, he slipped
them from my feet and my hands landed on his shoulders before I could stop
myself. Once I stood barefoot, his face traveled up my leg, scenting me again.
My dress lifted slightly when he reached the hem. His nose carried the material
up just a bit until he stopped at the juncture of my thighs. His hands went to
my ass as he pulled me against his face. I arched my back grinding myself even
closer.
What the fuck was happening to me?
“Are you hungry?”
I looked down. His chocolate eyes were gazing into mine. The slow curve of
his lips gave him the most kissable mouth I’d ever seen. He released my ass and
stood in one fluid move. He repeated the question and finally my brain decided
it could function. I hadn’t eaten since before my drunk-fest the night before.
Maybe that’s what was wrong with me.
Explicit excerpt from Kept: Precious Sacrifice by Cari
Silverwood
He walked into view at the other end of the row of parked cars, blocking
out the taxi waiting for her with its engine idling, and he turned and headed
toward her. Long dark coat. Mean look in his eyes...or where his eyes would be.
His face was shrouded in darkness. He just looked bad.
Brittany’s throat closed in. Breathing, who needed it?
Big man, as in fucking huge, and with a totally deliberate way of
moving.
Every step was calculated. Like a lone stranger walking into a lowlife Wild
West town, about to rescue the folks from the two-gun killer kid. She could hear
the theme song from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly playing.
All he was missing was a Stetson and a pair of six guns.
Headlights from a passing car flickered over him. His face...oh god. He
definitely needed a hat to pull over that. Were those parallel scars running
across his cheeks? Or tattoos made up to look like American Indian war paint?
Whatever. They were red and scary. Only he surpassed scary by a mile. She took a
half-step back, surprised the man wasn’t snorting steam out his nostrils.
But he smelled good. From yards away. Was that even possible? Mm-Mmm.
It took all her determination not to squeal, run down the aisle between the
parked cars, and jump his bones then and there. Loose stones on the concrete
cracked under his boots. A breeze blew the front of his coat wide. She caught a
glimpse of a wide, well-built torso that stretched his pants and shirt with a
real man’s body.
Shit. Was that metal glinting there? Holsters? No. Couldn’t be. Unless he
was a cop?
Fear reared its head. He wouldn’t be looking for her. Get the fuck outta
his way.
Jarred into self-preservation mode, Brittany cleared her throat and
squeezed back against the bus she was walking beside to allow him to shimmy
past. Not that a man like this would ever shimmy. He’d saunter or stalk but
never ever shimmy.
What would it be like to be underneath him being...
Shut up. She took a deep breath and held it when he seemed about to pass
her.
Don’t faint. Unladylike.
Then he grabbed her under her shoulders, lifted her a few inches, and
slammed her flat against the bus with enough force to frighten her but not hurt.
Startled, she sucked in air.
His scent swept her awareness of danger far, far away and replaced it with
pure unadulterated LUST.
Her pussy flooded instantly. She shut her eyes. Not Niagara Falls wet, just
enough to make slippery every part of her down there, enough that a man could
slide his cock right in without a second’s hesitation. That. Wet.
She inched open her eyes and found him staring down at her. Brutal and
callous was her instantaneous impression.
From Succumb by Sorcha Black.
A story of a succubus called Moth
“Who are you?” Her voice was small, her brows puckered.
“I am called Moth.” I was over her dream self, my lips almost on hers. The girl’s large dark eyes narrowed in confusion and she squirmed beneath me.
“What do you want?” She whimpered and the sound made me ache to ease her.
“I want what you want, Shiloh,” I whispered to her. “May I bring you pleasure?”
Although I’d waited until the phantom man had aroused her terribly, there was consternation in her eyes.
“But I don’t like women that way. How do you know my name?”
Because I watch you when you sleep. I walk in your dreams. Telling her this would serve no purpose, although it was true. Often, her dreams were sexual, but at times they were reflections of what she had done that day. Some nights she dreamed of a man called Brad, but their relationship had no relation to sex. Their interactions amused me, though, and I was glad that someone filled the space in her life just as Fox my own. Her dreams were filled with concern for others and worry over tasks she’d left undone. The brightness and intelligence of her thoughts were fascinating and I watched her dreams by the hour some nights.
But only through the window. I had never before crossed the threshold.
I brushed my lips against hers and she gasped, the feeling from me more intense than any a dream lover could provide. So close. Her lips under mine were almost too tempting to bear. I could taste the desire upon her breath and had to ignore the instinct to feed.
“You brought me here.” Although it had been unintentional, on her part. “If you close your eyes, you can pretend I am whomever you desire. The secret will be ours.”
When no response was forthcoming, I trailed my fingertips over the spectre of her translucent dream body and her eyes fell shut. Permission?
Men rarely refused me anything in their dreams.
In fascination, my fingers bumped over her ribs, upward to her breasts. She shuddered beneath me and the urge to fasten my mouth down on hers became overwhelming. I cupped her breast with one hand and lowered myself to lay alongside her, our naked flesh sliding together in a way even dream men did not feel. Smooth. Warm. How did a dream girl smell so erotic?
I toyed with her nipples for an age, circling and pinching them until she was a mewling, writhing doll.
“What do you desire?”
“Please!” she begged.
I drew my hand down, toward her sex. Her hips rose to meet me, attempting to rush me to what she wanted.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” I circled a lazy finger over her slit.
“Please, please, yes!” She sobbed, and for a moment I almost pitied her. Her arousal was more intense than most humans felt and I wondered if it was the fact that she was virginal, or that she was more attracted to the female form than she realized.
A stirring.
Warder.
My lips fastened over hers for the barest moment and the taste of her flooded my mouth. Although I had no hunger, the sexual power lanced down into my belly, spreading warmth throughout my body.
“I must go. I will return for you.”
“Please, no! Don’t leave me like this. I’ll die.” In her dream she wept, and guilt flooded through me. To have fed, even a little, and not bring her satisfaction was cruel.
PG Excerpt from Universe Hunters
by Connie Scholey
Their nude bodies had no meaning to either male except as vessels. Cali no longer felt uncomfortable around Blazar and Deimos. They were witty and charming. They swore they had only three more planets to visit and she would be home. Except they looked less eager to return her as time went by, especially after the first time Cali hugged them upon their return. They had been gone a particularly long time, long enough their normally hot bodies after a hunt, were only a little uncomfortable to touch. As they cooled down, their embraces were longer. Both men were not shy about seeking out her embraces when she explained a hug was offered as a show of affection. Deimos innocently referred to embraces as gifts.
Each night, the alien males came to her and with their special abilities they filled her belly pleasantly and cocooned her to sleep in warmth. It was so close to being loved Cali forgot she was basically a captive. Deimos seemed fascinated with the concept of mating. He explained their way of joining was different. There were no females or males, just entities. Their species needed to join but not for procreation, procreation was carefully monitored, but for socialization and comfort. Their platonic joining was how they helped Cali feel safe and warm at times she ‘regenerated’, the word was Deimos’. Cali told him she slept. Blazar’s favorite place she learned early on was the console; Deimos loved talking to Cali when he had a spare moment.
“Your joining with me is fascinating. So you love with all of your being?” Cali asked Deimos. They sat side by side on the healing bed. There was no other furniture; after all, what would a light need with chairs? It made sense to Cali.
“Yes. We absorb each other, grow brighter, stronger.”
By Leia Shaw
Explicit Excerpt:
“Strip,” he ordered, from behind me.
I spun to face him then looked for signs he was joking. He met my gaze with the steadiness of a man who meant what he said. No crinkled corners.
“Great.” I sighed. “Just when I was starting to say nice things about you in my head you start with the orders.”
“If you’re lucky, I’ll give you even nicer things to say about me.” He winked.
Against my will, my cheeks heated. Why was his cockiness so sexy? I hated egomaniacs. They were selfish and immature. But Baen was…different. The way he checked me out wasn’t like some random asshole on the street, sizing me up like a piece of meat. When Baen did it, it made me feel desired. Not in a gross way – like I was fodder for someone’s spank bank – but like I was a prize to be won. That was the kind of love I sought. I wanted a man who wanted me, deeply.
Still, there was no way I was stripping in front of him. I straightened my shoulders and pulled up all the courage I had. “No one is here judging my obedience. I don’t have to do what you say.”
He didn’t bat an eye at my challenge. “Think of it as practice, lass. No’ to mention, it’ll be fun.”
“Fun?” I snorted. Clearly his hobbies and mine differed greatly.
“Why no’ embrace the role fully, Maggie?” He stalked toward me, quiet but lethal. “You might find you like it.”
Now that was too close to the truth. I took a few steps back to keep a distance as he moved toward me. I steadied my knees and gave myself a pep talk.
Do not remember how his hand felt in your hair. Don’t think about his breath next to your ear, whispering gruffly.
My legs hit something behind me. I turned to look. The bed.
Garbage. Think about taking out the garbage. My grandma in her underwear.
I grimaced.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” Baen asked. I could hear the laughter in his voice though I refused to look at him.
“My grandma’s underwear.”
His booming laugh startled me and I finally gazed up at him and scowled. “It’s your fault! You…affect me.”
Laughter faded and he leaned down so his face was just next to mine. The roughness of his beard tickled my cheek – warm and scratchy. A shiver slid down my spine. I’d slept with two men in my life yet I’d never felt such intimacy.
“Glad I’m no’ the only one,” he rasped in my ear.
Grand prize - One book from each author.
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