He took her, he caged her, but can he truly tame her?
Lost in the woods, author Molly Clary is running for her life. After being trapped in the torrid dark world of Connor Reilly, Molly has made a desperate escape from the tantalizing torment, but little does she know what fate awaits her.
Connor is both a man and a monster, and in the depths of his depravity, something scintillating will bloom between them. Molly finds that she is falling for the sadist, a dangerous attraction that will take her right to the brink.
So, now it’s Molly’s choice. Can she manage the monster in order to lure the love of the man? A man who has already demonstrated just how cruel his sadistic streak can be?
And when the truth is finally revealed, Molly will need to decide. Where do her true loyalties lie?
1-Click Tamed today to continue this dark, twisted trilogy.
Tamed is the heart-stopping continuation of the dark romance, Taken. Molly and Connor’s liaison concludes in the hotly anticipated, Entwined.
A woman who proactively sought the kiss of her captor was no longer really a captive. Was she?
All there was now was Connor, the pain and the exhaustion.
Molly had no clue. She had no idea who she’d just fucked, or that by giving herself to him in any way, she was slowly selling her soul to a devil.
The poor little thing didn’t have a clue how far off the mark she was. Connor wasn’t tender. Connor was a monster.
That’s how she felt now, his completely, and nothing beyond that seemed to matter.
Connor had become the dark centre of her world. His perverted dominance was every inch as arousing as the heroes she’d penned, except that this hero was bigger, and stronger and extremely bad. In fact, he was really no hero at all.
“You’re going to hurt me?” she probed, as she blinked up into the place she knew those green eyes were.
She didn’t know why she asked, because the answer was obvious. Of course, he was going to hurt her. He was going to make her suffer, and he’d try to break her if he could.
“You will be punished,” he assured her in an unnervingly gentle tone. “Then tamed, and trained to please me. And you will write for me.”
Connor’s hand touched her face in the darkness, those digits finding the hot tears which she had barely even realised were falling. Her own fingers fell from his jaw at the weight of his caress. As though they were acting on some type of reflex, they found his chest, and she pressed her small palms against his shirt. Drawing her hair back, his hand rested at her nape, holding her in place as he continued. “There were only ever two rules, pet. Do you remember them?”
He was close now. Molly knew that, even though her eyes had fallen closed at the sensation of his fingers. She could feel his breath against her face, the heat reminding her of the way he’d claimed her body just last night. Her eyes blinked open as she tried to compose herself. This was not the time for sensual memories, Molly, she rebuked herself. You’re about to get taken – again – by this monster. You need to do something. You need to kick, run, throw a punch… And yet, she already knew it was too late. She was falling deeper into his trap, even now as he spoke. It wasn’t his body holding her in place, but his mesmerising ability to capture her with his words.
“Pet?” He repeated, his tone expectant. “The rules?”
“To obey you, Master,” she parroted, as though she was answering a school test. “And to write for you.”
“There’s my good girl,” he purred, the hand at her neck drawing her face even closer to his body. “I knew you hadn’t forgotten.”
His tone was soft, but patronising, and a part of her wanted to raise her hand and slap him for mocking her. But that part was small and insignificant now, a remnant of the woman she used to be, before Connor Reilly crashed into her life. Now that same tone was all sexy and dominant. The voice of the man who commanded her. The voice of her Master.
Strapped down to the spanking bench, Molly’s legs were splayed wider than she expected, and her hips were raised by a pile of strategically placed blankets against the leather. She didn’t counter or even try to resist him. What would be the point? She was chained and helpless. Connor was physically stronger than her, and now that he was back in his own domain, he seemed larger than life again. There was no hope of getting away, and that meant taking whatever punishment he was about to dish out.
“I spent the entire drive here contemplating how best to punish you, pet.”
Connor’s voice jarred her from her miserable musings, and she turned her head toward it. He was stood there, dressed only in black jogging pants. His lean, muscular torso was on display for her to see, concealed only by his strong arms which were folded in front of his chest.
“Of course, I can spank you,” he went on. “I can paddle that delicious backside of yours to within an inch of your life, but I want more than that. I need it. I need to make sure you know what will happen when you defy me.”
Molly panted around the gag. Somehow, the thing hadn’t seemed so bad on the way home, but then she had slept through the whole thing. Now though, her jaw was aching already, and it had only been back in place for a few minutes. Her eyes locked with Connor’s, his resolve evident from just the briefest of connections. He was clearly telling her the truth. Whatever penance was to come, he had obviously spent a lot of time considering it. The thought was not reassuring.
“As such,” Connor continued. “I have concluded that your punishment should not just be about pain. It should be about pleasure too, or in fact, your complete lack of it.”
He shifted from his place beside her, stalking to one of the walls in front of her face. Molly strained her head to see what he was doing, her neck screaming at the contorted angle. Ignoring its plea, she caught sight of him collecting a few items. One was an ominous-looking wooden paddle, and another looked like some type of large, industrial vibrator. There was something else, too, but she lost sight of it as he passed by the side of her head.
Her face fell back to the leather, confusion shrouding her mind. Why did he need a vibrator? Was he going to torture her with orgasms? The thought sounded tantalizing, although if she knew anything about Connor, then she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He’d already implied there would be no pleasure, so…
She pulled hard against the straps at her ankles and wrists. He’d hit her! The son of a bitch had hit her while she’d been thinking. She twisted her face right to try and catch sight of him, but all she could make out was his silhouette in her peripheral vision.
“First, we warm up this sweet behind,” he declared.
Molly saw the paddle rise into the air, her body tensing as he sent it to crash back against her ass again. Shrieking through the gag, Molly struggled again, her breaths coming out in short pants.
“Suck it up, pet,” he sneered as he landed the third swat. “Or let me put this in a way an American will understand. Your ass is quite literally mine. Mine to strike, mine to taunt, mine to fuck, and now I have it right back here where it belongs.”
“You will take my cock wherever I choose to put it.”
His voice was like thunder now, and her body trembled in response. As Molly submitted, she pressed her hot tears into the leather in front of her. It was a small act, but deep down he knew it meant something.
At the very least, she had conceded the point, and that was good enough for Connor. Emboldened by her reaction, his dick grew even larger. Ruthlessly, he drove the remainder of it into her arse, delighting at the shriek which the thrust provoked from Molly’s lips.
“Take it,” he demanded, easing from her, before plunging back again.
She called out, the sound morphing into a low sob at the back of her throat.
“This is what happens to naughty pets who run.”
He buried himself deep inside her tightest channel as he assessed her reddened face. There was no doubt she was sorry now. She certainly looked it, but it was too late. Far too late. And Molly had a lesson to learn.
“I could have made this good for you, kitten,” he growled. “I could have lubed you right up and made this a satisfying, sensual experience. But you…” Connor hesitated, delivering four fast thrusts in quick succession. “You could not be good. You chose to run from me.”
Molly was sobbing now, her face a hot mess based on his limited view.
“Bad pet,” he continued, slapping her right cheek. “That’s what you are.”
The impact made her gasp, her muscles clenching out of instinct.
“Tell me!” The command echoed around the dark walls. “Tell me what you are.”
She mumbled a humiliating reply through the small plastic ball. The sound made his balls tighten, driving him closer and closer to shooting his load deep inside her behind.
“Very bad,” he agreed as he thrust balls deep into her once more. “And bad pets get all their hole’s punished.”
“I hope it was good for you, pet,” he snarled as the scratch at his face stung in the cool night air. “Because that was the last time you’re ever going to strike me.”
She screamed at his words, but the sound coming from her lips sounded more like frustration, than terror. “But, it’s alright for you to strike me?” she snapped back, her head twisting toward him as he forced her a few meters back toward the waiting sedan.
“Of course,” he told her in a mocking tone. “You belong to me, pet. Remember? I will strike you when the need arises. To punish you, to train you. We’ve been all through this already, or at least I thought we had.”
“No!” she yelled, resisting his retreat as much as her bare feet would allow on the road. “Stop it, you fucker. I don’t want this!”
“Oh really?” he asked calmly as his back reached the edge of the car. “You don’t want this. Are you sure? That wasn’t what you were telling me in bed last night. You recall that, right? The time you practically begged to join me in bed, after you begged me to fuck you?”
Something in his questions seemed to resonate and for the first time since he’d pounced, Molly stopped fighting. Her body sagged against him, the rage inside her small frame apparently dissolving right in front of him.
“That was different,” she mumbled into her chest. “You were different.”
Connor glanced down at his little pet, surveying her as best he could in the darkness. Perhaps her accusation was accurate. He probably had seemed different the night he’d pleasured and fucked her. Certainly, he had felt different. But Molly didn’t understand the plan. Her captivity wasn’t just about pleasure – it couldn’t be. It was about training her, taming her, and making her into the thing he wanted. A pretty little pet who would suck his cock on command, right after she’d written their prose.
“The man who took you out here was the same guy who licked your sweet pussy, pet,” he informed her flatly. “Both men are me, and both are your Master.”
Molly threw her head back, slumping against his chest as though he’d just walloped her. “Please,” she begged. “Please, I can’t go back there with you. I can’t do this.”
She sounded distraught.
The notion pleased him, although she really had no idea what it meant to be broken. Not yet. But she would.
Author Bio and social links:
Felicity Brandon is a top 100 Amazon bestselling author.
She loves the darker side of romance, and writes sexy, suspenseful stories, with strong themes of bondage and submission.
You’ll find her either at her laptop, at the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music.
Find Felicity here: