Eleventh Day of Christmas—Riley Bancroft

Covering her exposed breasts with one arm, Wynter clasped the other hand into Michael’s and they burst out the back door of the strip club. Relief washed over her as she followed him down the alleyway in a sprint. Boots slapping the pavement behind them reminded her that Morgan’s goons were hot on their heels and Wynter kept up with Michael’s long-legged strides.
Oh, those legs, his thick muscled thighs and the way they clenched when he slammed…
“Ummph,” she exhaled on a breath as they rounded the corner of the building and she slammed into his back, coming to a halt.
A melodic tune filled the air among cheers and chants along the street. Wynter couldn’t believe her eyes. People lined each side of the sidewalk; some had beers in hand. Others sang along to the music. Irish step dancers, wearing custom dresses, pranced down the middle of the road. Behind them, a marching band played “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” rhythmically walking to the beat. No, not a traditional marching band, bag pipes…all piping away.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Michael growled and tugged her through the crowds. “Who has a parade this time of night?”
“Apparently someone who appreciated eleven pipers piping,” she laughed in sarcasm at the irony. Someone was playing a cruel joke on them. Whether they incited it upon themselves or if Morgan truly orchestrated this all … they all would soon find out.

Wynter’s family had come into debt with Michael because they wanted the five rings tome–the grimoire he’d stolen from them decades ago–back in their possession. In return, he asked for a piece of property of his own. One who could fulfill his every wicked desire whenever he felt the need to be sexually sated. One who he would mark with his sigil to be his for eternity. One who would provide the “perfect man” for him as a sacrifice every time the stars, moon, and planets aligned in sync with the solstice festival. Luckily or unluckily for her, she happened to be the item he wanted.
Men ogled and hollered at her while she and Michael pushed their way down the sidewalk. Wearing only bikini bottoms in December wasn’t the best fashion choice, but hey, who’s judging when one was about to climb up a stripper pole?
A few blocks down the street, his black Porsche sat parked next to a curb. An older lady stood next to it with a scowl on her face and she tapped her foot. Trixie yelled some Norse curses. “Next time make it two bottles of champagne!”
“I’ll do you better than that, Trix. I owe you. For once, you did something right.” He released his grip from Wynter’s hand. “Hop in,” he commanded.
The immediate loss of his touch on her skin sent a lonely ache through her gut, but she jumped into the car still covering her breasts. “Trixie’s not just your secretary, is she?” The tension in the air between the two had been undeniable and definitely had a hint of angry desire mixed in. “How’d she know where we would be?”
He popped the car in drive. Wheels fishtailed as he spun away from the curb. “She’s a Valkyrie. They have protective powers over the mercenary they have sworn to protect. Trixie safeguards her chosen in battle.”
Peering over her shoulder at the older woman growing smaller in the distance, she asked, “Aren’t they supposed to be immortal? She looks…well for her age.”

“They age extremely slowly. Trix was actually quite the looker in her heyday—quite the female warrior and strategist.” The tone of his words and raised brows hinted at something possibly more.
She spun around to face him in her seat. Heat filled her chest, blooming outward, and set her face on fire. “I’m sure she was quite something to you; that’s for sure.”
A sinful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Jealous, my pet?”
“Me? Jealous? Of course not. I mean, just the other night I had my lips wrapped around another man’s cock while he got me off.” By no means would she be put in her place. Michael’s the one who locked her into this arrangement with him to begin with.
His knuckles blanched white around the wheel. The haughty expression he sported now replaced with a sneer. “I think it’s time we washed that dirty mouth out.” He veered the car off to the side of road, slammed it into park, and unzipped his pants.
Long, thick, and hard, his cock popped out of his jeans as if breaking out of jail. “Your mouth. Now.”
When she met his gaze, those brilliant emerald eyes bore into her. Not only into the depths of her soul, but further. Her pussy throbbed with his command. This man undid her every single time. The closer she got to him, the more time they spent, the more she craved him. She couldn’t get enough.

Her chest rose with each deep inhalation as she licked her lips. By damn, she wanted him to hunger for her like she was starting to with him. “No.” Wynter dropped her arm, revealing her breasts, and moved to place her back against the door. Pressing her shoulders back, the cool air in the car teased her already sensitive nipples. She propped her feet up on the middle console to spread her thighs. “Your mouth. Now.”
Sinful desire filled his eyes and a growl vibrated from his chest. He placed his thumb over her clitoris, drawing small circles. “Do not forget who you belong to. Nor the debt you must pay for your family. Shall I make you orgasm like this? Bereft of my cock filling you?”
She tried not to move her hips in rhythm of his touch, but found it difficult as her sex clenched in response to the tender strokes. Damn, he had a way of driving her body to the need of passion.
He increased the pressure and thumbed her harder. His eyes focused in on her. “Answer,” he bit out.
You will not moan. You will not…she couldn’t stop the sound from leaving her throat. Oh the tortuous ways he pleased her. Body thrumming to life, the exquisite tickle spread throughout her aching pussy, and she couldn’t deny her response to him. “No.” She needed to have him inside and hitting the soft spot that always sent her over the edge.
“Come and mount me, Wynter.” He moved her bikini bottoms to the side uncovering her pussy. “I can see you’re ready for me.”
How his brusque words made her lust for him more, she had no idea. All she knew or cared about was the fever escalating in her body to have him. She moved in her seat and climbed on top of his, straddling his waist.

“I’m always ready for you.” The tip of his shaft barely breached her nether lips. She rocked her hips back and forth to, coating him with her juices.
Michael gripped her hips and slammed her down on his thick cock. “That’s right. You will always crave me.” He nipped her bottom lip before sliding his tongue into her mouth.
Using his shoulders as leverage, she pulled up and then came down hard on him—riding him. Tingles spread throughout her womb with each penetration.
“Fuck, Wynter. I want you to want me without the debt.” He clamped a hand on the nape of her neck and branded her with a punishing kiss. The husky way he said her name, the way he claimed her.
Her thigh muscles quivered as the energy pulsated, building up, and overflowing. Her inner walls clenched and released. Pleasure overflowed as warm bursts jetted inside and she milked Michael’s cock into sweet oblivion with her.
Foreheads together, their breaths mingled in quick bursts.
“Goddess. That was amazing,” she whispered against his lips.
Michael tensed beneath her.
She could have sworn he froze up like a block of ice.
“Don’t ever say that Morgan’s name again.”

 

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Well, if she didn’t want to be with him forever then he’d give her a reminder of who she belonged to. The need to claim her overrode any other thoughts—he needed her surrender. Mine. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Get your fucking ass in the bathroom right now,” he ordered.

“No Sir,” she spat the last word out at him.

Shit was about to get wrecked. The internal demand to assert authority and control over her grew to dangerous levels. His cock swelled and he gritted his teeth. “I will drag you in there kicking and screaming or you can walk in there like a big girl. Now, go.” He pointed at the bathroom.

She stomped passed him then fled inside. She could run, but she couldn’t fucking hide.

Cole followed, slamming the French doors behind him. Hot on her heels, he pursued her to the bathroom and flung that door shut too. “Pull your pants down,” he commanded. The hunger for her peaked and he desperately longed to get inside her.

“You’re not my master right now, so you don’t get to tell me what to do.” She spun to face him, arms crossed over her chest, and a righteous anger over expression.

“I’m always your master, sweetheart. Now, pull your pants down and bend over,” he yelled, unable to stop the frenzy of hunger raking at him and taking over—the need to take her and claim her as his, too great. His cock strained in his pants. “Or, I’ll do it for you.”

“Ohhh,” Mya cackled. “You pull your pants down, sweetheart.”

She tried his every last nerve. Cole eyed her. Taunted and spurred to have his way with her. You are mine.

“Ah. The big and strong man doesn’t get it,” she ridiculed.

“Keep this up, sweetheart and you’re gonna get it.” His neck strained as his muscles flexed and his balls ached with a need to release.

Undiluted rage burned over her face. She slapped him.

His head whipped to the side and he didn’t turn back to look at her, focusing on the wall instead. “What was that for?” Cole ground his jaw, but dared not move an inch, because he was certifiably about to lose his sanity.

“Come on, every time you call me, sweetheart, you don’t mean it.”

“You say it like it’s an insult. I call lots of people sweetheart.”

“Exactly my point. Surely, you of all people realize you use that word when you distance yourself. When you can’t man up and face things.”

He swung his gaze back to her, a pure crimson covering his sight. “That’s fucking it!” Like a lion stalking in for the kill, he grabbed her by the nape and pulled her to him. His lips crashed on to hers and his tongue pressed into her mouth—punishing her with his kiss.

Her hands pushed against his chest, but he didn’t relent, wrapping his fist in her hair and pulling her tighter to him. She opened her mouth for him and he branded her with his tongue, his lips. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of letting go of him. He was hers. With his other hand, he undid her pants and ripped them down her legs. When he couldn’t bend any further, without separating their mouths, he used his foot to yank them lower to her ankles.

Mya kissed him back with an insatiable fervor. Her hands wove in his hair, urgently dragging him closer as she writhed against him.

Nails dug into his scalp and he relished the pain, matching the ache in his heart. Cole used his free hand to pull her tee and bra above her chest, exposing her plump breasts. He kneaded each mound and her nipples hardened to tight little buds. Next, he unzipped his jeans, releasing his aching and throbbing cock.

Immediately, she found his erection and gave it a long, hard stroke.

“Fuck, Mya. You fucking unravel me,” he whispered against her lips before taking her mouth with his again. Winding his fist in her hair, he kept her head angled in place for his tongue to caress hers.

She squeezed his cock with a tough and rocklike tug and the pain intensified the pleasure.

No longer able to stand the intense eagerness to fill her, he broke the kiss and whirled her around until she faced the counter. Pressing down on her shoulders, he bent her over.

Her green eyes gazed at him in the reflection of the mirror with a fevered hunger.

“You don’t need a king? Fine. I’ll be your master then.”

Available August 28th, 2015