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Myth. Monster. Mine.
I wasn’t even a man when I took a life for the first time, although you couldn’t say I was a child. If I’d ever had a childhood, it hadn’t lasted long. My father, may he rot in hell, had seen to that. I took his life as well and that, too, happened before I was old enough to be considered a grown man.
I never regretted it for a second.
That path almost led to my own grave, and would have, if I hadn’t stumbled across somebody who was as different from my father as day was from night. Sarge had seen the monster lurking inside, so he took control, gave me guidelines, rules, so I wouldn’t be the monster my father had planned.
It worked. I restrained the worst of my rage and honed the skills that had been drilled into me—theft, stealth… assassination. The broken child ceased to exist and I became Spectre, an assassin spoken of in whispers, hired to take out the worst of humanity.
Then I was sent to kill her…and my world came to a screeching halt.
It’s taken a long time, but I finally had a nice, steady routine. I stopped trying to conform to the neurotypicals of the world and found my own normal.
Normal went out the window when I walked into my kitchen and found a strange (hot), dangerous looking (so fricking hot) man drugging my new dog.
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to leap at him like a banshee and attack, but that’s what I did.
When my attempt to wreck the vehicle was averted, my kidnapper didn’t hurt or threaten me. In fact, he told me he wanted to protect me.
This (hot) guy had to be crazy. But if he was crazy, what did that make me? Because I believed him. More, I found myself seeing something beyond the rigid, blank mask he wore. He kept trying to push me away, but I couldn’t seem to keep my distance.
He calls himself a monster…but when I look at him, that isn’t what I see. I just see him…and I know he’s meant to be mine.
Warning: This isn’t a snuggly, comfy read. The male MC is a hired killer, while the heroine is neuro-atypical. Some dark material is involved—the hero kidnaps the heroine. There’s also violence when he goes on a rampage against those who put a contract on her. Also references of abuse (not against the heroine). Also very graphic, erotic scenes with minor bondage play.
You will wander, you will roam
SORIN: He is Zmeu, one of the great dragons of myth.
As a young dragon, he was told an important truth: Dragons do not fall in love. They definitely did not fall in love with mortal women.
It’s a lesson Sorin takes to heart. He might have had a mortal mother, but mortals had also killed her, leaving him alone.
A dragon grown, he dwells in an impenetrable castle, living a dragon’s best life. He dances with fae swan maidens, steals baubles from unknowing kings, scoffs at mortals stumbling through life wasting time on war, hate…love.
Then love finds him.
In the village of his birth, a woman teaches him a truth his dragon family hadn’t—it’s rather easy for a dragon to love.
Ever seeking solace, ever seeking home
Easy to love, yes. But understanding her? Not so easy. Sorin’s arrogance led to her death…and a curse.
Hundreds of years later, living in the New World as the world prepare for war, he is almost numb to the curse that haunts him still.
You will wander, you will roam, they’d said. He did. But seeking solace, seeking home? Home and solace were lost to him, every bit as much as his love.
As penance, he guards the mortals in his territory, as she had protected those under her care. He’ll hold off the coming war as long as possible. When the time comes to take up a sword—or breathe fire—he will. It’s little comfort, but his lost love would expect him to protect. So he does.
One night, a sudden awareness yanks him from deepest sleep. Chasing the faint magical trail, he finds a woman battling for her life. Just before a killing strike, he sees her eyes…eyes of haunting green.
The eyes of the woman he’d loved, the eyes of the woman he’d killed.
“Nobody else exists now. Just you and me. Do you understand me, Tia?”
“Yes.” The hot green glitter in his eyes was terrifying, exciting and haunting. I pressed against him. “I’ll never mention another lover again.”
His eyes widened. “Tia…”
I bit his lip.
“You’re insane,” he breathed.
“You’ve made me this way. If I mention another lover again, will you spank me?”
“No. I think I’m going to tie you up and finish fucking that ass just like you’ve begged me to do.”
I rolled my eyes, but he had already left the bed and I sat back on my heels, confused. He disappeared into the closet and reemerged in under a minute, something thin and black in his hands.
“What is…oh. You’re serious…?” My gaze darted from the cord in his hands up to his face.
“Unless you tell me no, right now.”
I stayed quiet.
“Bend over then. Show me your ass…prove to me you still want it.”
Shaking now, I bent over and he came up behind me, using the flat of his hand between my shoulder blades to push me lower until my cheek was against the bed. He caught my wrists and dragged them behind my back.
“Since you seem to enjoy taunting me, I’ll do the same. The first time I tied a woman up, it was at the brothel in Germany. She kept touching me while I fucked her and I didn’t want her to. I don’t like being touched—ever. I grabbed her hands without even thinking about it. This was years ago. She giggled and said something about how she knew I’d be a rough one. That laugh grated on my ears and I tuned her out just so I could finish us both off. It was my first trip there and when I was done, I was disgusted and disappointed.”
He talked as he worked, pausing from time to time and I’d feel a tug on my wrists.
“The madame of the house saw me leaving and she knew something was wrong. She takes great pride in her services and stopped me, asked me to join her for a drink. I did and when she asked what had displeased me, I told her. She suggested another girl and that I tie her up. There…you look perfect.”
I tried to move my wrists. There was enough give for me to wiggle, but there was no way I could get free.
He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled me upright, the pressure more intense than it had been before, but it didn’t hurt.
He bit my ear, then scored my neck with his teeth.
“Until you, Tia, I’ve never fucked anybody without tying them up—not since that night. I bind my partner, bend them over and fuck. Sometimes their pussy, sometimes their ass. I’m never careless and I take care to give pleasure, although not because I give a flying fuck if my partner enjoys it. I don’t want to hurt whoever I’ve selected for the night, but their pleasure isn’t my concern. I just do it so I can continue to have a wide variety of partners to choose from.” He rubbed his cock against the seam between my buttocks. “And I don’t care if it’s a man or a woman. I don’t know if you could consider me bisexual because sexual attraction doesn’t weigh into my need to silence the screams in my head. I just request whoever is available and willing to take what I mete out—being bound, submitting and kneeling so I don’t have to look at them as I fuck.”
He cupped my breasts and plumped them together, fingers seeking out my nipples and squeezing until I gasped.
“Does it bother you hearing that I’ve fucked men as well as women? That I enjoy bending a man over and listening to him groan and gasp as I sink my dick into his ass?”
“Um…” Blood rushed to my face, turning my skin painfully hot. “No…it doesn’t bother me.”
At least not the way he thought, but if he didn’t stop talking about sex while I waited here…
“I do believe you’re the first person I’ve ever truly felt sexually attracted to. Everybody else has just been…fuckable. Do you like hearing about past lovers?”
“They weren’t lovers,” I whispered without thinking. “I’m the only lover you’ve ever had. Everybody else was just…fuckable.”
I braced myself for his reaction, mentally and emotionally. He’d push me away again, treat me to that cold, cool wall of his—
“Yes,” he whispered against my ear. “You are.”
My mind went blank.
“You’re the only lover I’ve ever had, likely the only one I ever will have.”
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