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Becoming Bad - Sneak Peek

Becoming Bad

Author's note: Just a hint of what's in store for Ash in the second book in the trilogy. Enjoy ;)

Dead to the world, she lay sprawled. Hair, midnight silk, fanned across his sheets, the curve of her spine hollowing out to the luscious mounds of her ass. Exquisite. Her thighs spread for him, just enough to gift a glimpse of her sex. Even comatose she tortured him. ‘I have waited long enough. I will have you.’

Tugging at the wolf’s-head buckle of his belt, MacTire wrenched the strap, shucked the leather down his thighs and loomed above her. Broad, heavily muscled and naked, he was fully aroused. Prowling up the bed, canines throbbing, his mouth mapped the contours of that perfect ass in growled breaths.
Head cocked, claws traced the triskelion inked on her shoulder, hooking raven strands across her nape to expose her throat. Razor-sharp, they grazed the thud of her heartbeat. Proof of life. Her scent was a feast of ripe sexuality, begging to be plucked and sucked and … Fuck, his cock was hard as a bat. His body pounded, ravenous. Too-long denied, his teeth tested the tender skin of her throat. ‘You are mine, little raven. You have always been mine. I will have you.’

Ash was lost in dreams, cushioned by the spongy damp of moss under cheek, her body ravaged, caught up in an erotic replay of trees and dirt and the powerful male at her back. She could stay there forever, basking in the dreamy wisps of sensation, but a blade was slowly ripping open the veil of sleep. It beckoned to her with sharp kisses, coaxing her to surface from a darkness heavy with sensuality, the pool of her dream lusts only deepening with the threat of pain.
'It's you,' she sighed.
Her body bowed, exposing her throat in surrender to the kiss of his teeth, moans of submission falling to the cloud-soft plush of the … not moss … pillows. His touch radiated fire, their bodies grinding a language all carnality. Her core clenched and she undulated off the mattress, guiding him, begging him to sink deep inside her.
‘Yes. All yours Connal. All yours. You have me.’
His answering growl was her only warning. A fist yanked her hair as teeth clamped hard on the flutter of her captured heartbeat.
‘We do not speak that name within these walls.’
‘Who ...?’ She rasped, whimpering as her spine curved again, not on a grind, her fantasy had crumbled, but in a struggle.
A kick split her thighs wide, permitting a hand to explore her swollen flesh, glossing fingers in her arousal.
‘So fucking wet … for me,’ he murmured, a groan escaping his throat as the rage retreated, only to coalesce into the animal that was his lust. ‘It is me you desire.’
Her heart hammered as his grip tightened in her hair.
‘The cur who poisoned you will not bother us again.’
Oh God. Her body was so obedient in its panic, it gave this stranger exactly what he wanted. Her resistance excited him. She fought the stroke of his hands as he kneaded her flesh. Ash recoiled, only to have her wrists caught and her thighs pinned by his until she stopped thrashing out her terror. She lay still when he rode his fingers through her soaked folds.
Even when he sat back and released her to pull her hips up, she couldn’t move. Ash was displayed to a gaze that stroked darkness to her most intimate flesh, and it only made her wetter. Her body didn’t know whether to fight or fuck. Spine tightening, she went rigid as her captor’s tongue curled a shivery lick to her ear. ‘Struggle for me, My Queen. You will come harder in the end.’
Ash jerked violently in protest. This was not a dream. This was not some sordid fantasy she'd thought up in a sex-blissed stupor. She was wide awake and there were no dreads tickling her skin, only a matted blond braid of hair pouring over her shoulder as she lay prone and vulnerable at the hands of a stranger.
He was NOT Connal.
And yet her body burned like he was. Traitor.
She was riding the same high that took her when Connal's bite had hurtled her into orgasm. She'd tasted it and her body was aching for more. It gave him power. This stranger at her back was mastering her need, her craving for Connal kept bright by his male presence.
Wrong. It was all so wrong.
Connal’s last words rang in her ears, an ‘I love you’ that had tipped her into darkness. That was the last thing she remembered, before light had been thrown on her dreaming mind and the binds of sleep had become literal.
She was pinned, naked and pleading for her captor to release her, not only from his hold, but from the desperate ache that would not stop.
Her denial was vicious; the heat remained. There was no dim on the carnal switch he’d turned to high, only panic, fear, and a maddening arousal that licked her higher with the graze of his teeth against her skin. It left her begging for the bite that would send her flying.
The part of her that was molten for this stranger was all animal. It turned her hands into claws and it snarled around blunt teeth. It arched and cried to get him closer, as her body flailed a dichotomy of pure fear and desire. She found herself pleading for two things that should cancel each other out and left her begging up to interpretation. ‘Please ...’
‘She begs. Perfect.’
A claw raked her skin, from nape to lower back, and his sleek tongue lapped in its wake, rocking a shudder down her spine.
‘I can taste your fear, and the hunger that wars against it. Your blood is inside me, Ash-ling. You are in me, your body wants this. Surrender your mind.’
His hand slipped between her thighs once more, and this time, the tip of a claw hooked into delicate skin, circling her pulsing clit. Ash bit down hard on the whimpers that rose and fell with the kick of her curves, muffled into the pillows.
‘You will come, Ash-ling, you will come hard, whether or not your mind permits it. I control your body now. I tell you when.’
She trembled. Whoever this man was, he kept her on an edge of pain and riding the primal sensation of claws in her flesh. He commanded her ecstasy and it contemplated obeying, tense and winding in her core.
Lust snapped up her spine when the palm of his free hand connected with the soft cheek of her ass and she cried out. Her hips jerked, tilted up for him, arching into the next strike.
She fought her own reactions, the miscommunication between her brain and her body fizzling with static. Need shot through her veins, the feather-light brush of his lips whispering to her bruised skin. His touch had her thrashing. Half a fight for escape, it was a futile plan, as though she could tear herself from something he controlled. There was no wiggle room as his hands clamped her hips, she had to submit to the wicked tease of his teeth, grazing the curves of her ass, nipping at slap-tender flesh. A throaty hum left her lips. He had her lust on a leash and it panted for him, obedient and wanton.
And then he put his mouth on her and she was ruined. Hot and greedy, he sucked starved, savage kisses on her slick flesh. He dragged her closer to the edge of control as he brutalised her sex with an attack of sensation too powerful to ignore, too animal to fight off, too raw to want to fight off. Liquid arousal overflowed, feeding the wet, tongue-rasp of his hunger as she rode his mouth in a hard grinding circle. The torment spiked her high and left her hovering on screams. Closer … closer ... ‘Please ...’ Somehow she knew: She wasn’t begging for freedom now.


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