By Larissa Ione
A Demonica Underworld/Masters and Mercenaries Novella
Coming April 10, 2018
Click to purchase
After a difficult childhood and a turbulent stint in the military, Declan Burke finally got his act together. Now he’s a battle-hardened professional bodyguard who takes his job at McKay-Taggart seriously and his playtime – and his playmates – just as seriously. One thing he never does, however, is mix business with pleasure. But when the mysterious, gorgeous Suzanne D’Angelo needs his protection from a stalker, his desire for her burns out of control, tempting him to break all the rules…even as he’s drawn into a dark, dangerous world he didn’t know existed.
Suzanne is an earthbound angel on her critical first mission: protecting Declan from an emerging supernatural threat at all costs. To keep him close, she hires him as her bodyguard. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that she’s in over her head, defenseless against this devastatingly sexy human who makes her crave his forbidden touch.
Together they’ll have to draw on every ounce of their collective training to resist each other as the enemy closes in, but soon it becomes apparent that nothing could have prepared them for the menace to their lives…or their hearts.
* * * *
Declan was at the end of his rope. In three days he hadn’t found a reason for the lack of video showing Suzanne leaving the house and Hawkyn coming inside the house, and even more baffling, the doors and windows, which registered every instance of opening and closing, hadn’t recorded anything during those times, either.
Why Suzanne would lie, he didn’t know. And truth be told, he didn’t think she was lying. But unless someone tampered with the evidence, there was no other explanation. But why would someone tamper with the evidence? Besides, McKay-Taggart’s best techies confirmed that no tampering had taken place.
Something wasn’t right about this entire situation, and he was about to get to the bottom of all of Suzanne’s secrets, one way or another.
He stopped at the door beneath the stairs and tested the knob. It was as locked as it had been every time he’d tried, which was at least twice a day. And yet, Suzanne was able to turn the knob with no trouble.
Had to be some sort of advanced touch-sensor technology. But when he asked, she just shrugged and claimed to know nothing about it.
Yeah, something definitely wasn’t right.
“So what are we doing in here?” she asked. “Looking for a secret door behind the…what is that thing?”
“It’s a bondage horse.” An exquisite one, in fact. The four legs were wooden, but the rest was padded and covered in leather, and the attachment on one end that looked like ancient punishment stocks, was worn but in good shape.
“Okay…” She stood there, looking confused and delectable in her blue and yellow sundress.
“Come here, Suzanne.”
“What?”
“I said, come here.”
She swallowed, the delicate muscles in her throat rippling, and he had a sudden urge to nibble his way along each one. Sure, he was disappointed in the way she’d treated him the other day in the security office, and he knew she was keeping something from him, but he also wanted to fuck her in the worst way.
Angry sex was still sex.
But that wasn’t what this about. Not entirely, anyway.
“Why?” she asked.
“Do you trust me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Do you really?” He gestured to the bondage horse and stocks. “So if I cuff you to this, you would trust me not to hurt you.”
Her chin came up, and her eyes sparked with determination. “Absolutely. But why do you want to do that?”
“Because I don’t trust you, and that’s a problem.”
She jammed her fists on her hips. “You really think you can torture me into telling you what you want to hear?”
“Yes…and no.” He snagged two sets of handcuffs from where they hung on the wall. “This is going to be an exercise in trust, Suzanne. For everything you tell me, I’ll tell you something. That’s how it works.”
For a moment she stared at the handcuffs, and then she squared her shoulders and marched over to the bondage horse. “Go ahead. You’ll see that I’m not hiding anything.”
Smirking, she held out her wrists to him, almost taunting him.
She was going to learn a lesson about that.
Without warning, he moved on her, slipping the cuffs on her wrists even as he maneuvered her body, angling her over the bench so she was lying on her belly, arms outstretched, her legs spread and her feet barely touching the floor. The fabric of her dress was stretched tight around her calves, so after he secured the cuffs to the stocks, he hiked the dress up to her hips.
He wasn’t counting on the sight of her creamy, toned thighs and the pink silk panties that barely covered her tight round ass to grab him right by the cock. An instant erection strained at his fly, the impatient bastard.
“W—what are you doing?” She tried to look back at him, but her position didn’t allow much movement.
“You safe word is…halo.” He wasn’t sure why that word popped into his head, but it seemed to fit both Suzanne and his stupid angel wing tattoo. “If you want me to stop at any time, say it.”
“Stop…what, exactly?”
He slapped her ass, just a light one, and the sound echoed off the walls. “Shh. I’m asking the questions.”
“But—“
He slapped her again, a little harder, and a rosy blush began to bloom on her right cheek.
“I ask the questions,” he repeated. “I told you that’s how this works.” He pitched his voice low, quiet with an edge of command. “Understood?”
Irritation put color in her cheeks and a hot flare in her eyes, but she nodded.
“Good girl.” In reward, he cupped her bottom, feeling the heat from the spanks in his palm, and used his thumb to stroke her inner thigh. She trembled when his thumb brushed the fabric of her panties, and when he added pressure, she squirmed.
“Now, tell me if there’s a secret entrance to this house.” He slipped his finger beneath the fabric and used the tip to caress, every so lightly the smooth, plump flesh between her legs.
“There’s not,” she blurted. “I told you.”
He deepened his touch, adding more pressure and easing his finger inward, so he was stroking the seam of her labia. She went utterly still, but her breaths came in small bursts that shook the bench.
“Are you sure?”
“Well…there could be.” She broke off on a moan and when she spoke again, her throaty voice had gone even lower. “But if there is, I don’t know about it. Like this room.”
Dammit, he believed her. Gently, he dipped his finger between her folds and nearly groaned at the silky moisture he found.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Now I have to tell you something.”
“Your tattoo,” she blurted breathlessly. “I want to know about that.”
Reflexively, he jerked his hand away. He didn’t want to talk about his fucking tattoo. “First of all,” he said, as he pinched the tender area he’d spanked, “you don’t get to ask the questions.” He brought his hand down on the spot he’d just pinched, and she hissed even as her lovely ass, framed by all that flowing fabric from her dress, rose as much as she could manage to meet his palm. “Second, my tattoo is off the table.”
He swore she growled. “Then this is about trust, is it? If so, you need to give me something you don’t want to give up.”
As right as she was, he didn’t want to hear it. This time, he pinched her between the legs. Not enough to hurt, but enough to startle her into making a squeal of both surprise and outrage. But when he began to pet her there, easing the throb he knew she was feeling, she moaned.
“Tell you what,” he said softly. “You tell me who you really are, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”