Dark Delicacies

By Mena Thrace

 

Description:

 

Three naughty tales of dark submission and consuming lust have been gathered for your enjoyment in this torrid collection.

 

Something Witchy

What happens when a nubile witch is lost in the darkness with the cruel Master of Shadows?

 

A Love Like Blood

Will Alivia be able to sate Eamon's unending hunger?

 

Uninvited

Can a dead man ever be truly satisfied?

 

If the dark fascinates you then this collection will satisfy that secret place in your mind where desire has no boundaries and rules are meant to be broken.

 

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

 

It didn't matter.

He meant to have her.

They were past civility and polite niceties.

He was still dressed in his dark gray button up shirt and black pants; but for the glowing of his eyes and the flash of his fangs he could have passed for mortal. He had been nice looking enough as human but dying had taken all his good features and made them better.

She wore nothing but her thigh highs, the necklace he had given her for her last birthday and a beckoning smile.

It was all just stage dressing. All those things could be stripped away and what would be left would be closer to the truth. They were nothing but animals. Animals had needs. Animals didn't prance around one way when they were another. They didn't tiptoe around saying one thing while meaning another. They just were.

They were free.

Being free meant never having to say one was sorry.

Being free meant taking what one wanted.

He rasped her name, his glowing gaze daring her to fight him. One strong arm rested by her head as he hurried to free himself from the restraining fabric of his pants. She wanted to look as he freed himself but she could not look away from his bright green eyes. He hypnotized her with his every move. She jerked her chin at him as a small playful smile graced her lips.

Come and get it.

His strong hands grasped her arms, pinning her down. She gasped in delight and arched under him, their loud breathing filling the air.

"Now." Her whisper was husky, throaty.

Being free meant not playing passive when one wanted to dominate.

He understood.

He leaned down to capture her lips in a starved kiss, tightening his hands on her. His hips pressed between hers, parting her quivering thighs. She spread her legs and wrapped them as tightly as she could around his waist, pulling him home.

Now.

Being free meant not having to pretend one didn't have wants.

Her wish had been his command.

His command had been her wish.

 

 

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