Stolen by Addison Cain

Author promotion.

It’s a new day, and a new week, and today I am so pleased to play host to Addison Cain’s latest release, Stolen…

He stole her off the streets in broad daylight—the first Omega discovered in Bernard Dome in generations. He took her with violence while none intervened. He broke her, swearing he’d put her back together.

Brenya Perin was ordered to submit.

Bernard Dome is the jewel of Europe, a bastion of art and culture, pleasure and decadence. But life in the city depends on the occupation chosen for you at birth. There is no subversion, no question of who rules. There is no freedom.

Peace has a price, a price the Commodore of Bernard Dome is willing to pay… so long as the Omega remains his.

***

Shepherd’s influence is on the rise. His machinations are subtle, his hands full tending to his recovering mate. Her safety is his priority, and something he’s willing to risk war to assure. Bernard Dome has what he wants, and they will all be damned if they deny him.

Publisher’s Note: The Alpha’s Control series, is a dark Omegaverse tale with explicit sexual themes and complete power exchange. If such material offends you, please do not purchase.

The release of Stolen has proved contentious, with Barnes & Noble banning the book from their store.  I personally dislike censorship, so I’m including a long (and hot) excerpt from the story below. If you like your reading dark, hot and explicit read on… (warning this snippet is for ages 18 ONLY!)

 

***

Bit by bit, her body conformed to the Alpha’s unspoken will. Her lips would sigh while her brain would scream.

He’d take a nipple to be suckled, her spine would arch… the small Beta voice inside her powerless to make her listen.

Someone else inhabited her body when Jacques played his games.

She was possessed.

And that was why she’d cried over breakfast. That was why she’d flown into violence when he thought to take her away from herself again.

Because he had a new weapon. A thing he’d slipped inside her and called her prize.

What did he call it? The name had sounded scientific, important, nothing like what it should have been called. He’d called it a pliarator. She knew better. It was a mind obliterator.

It slipped in easily enough the day before, so smoothly she wasn’t sure what had replaced his fingers, and then it had latched on. Discomfort grew in the form of a muscular ache, distracting, embarrassing, and enticing, Jacques manipulating how the thing sat in her pelvis while she tried to sit up and see what he’d done.

There had been no warning before the buzzing clicked and a soft nodule landed on her clitoris. The vibration had set her to yelp, urged her to press her legs closed against it, and encouraged a pool of slick to gather under her body.

He’d allowed her rebellion because it had made no difference. Even with her legs together, even rolled over on her belly as if she might squirm away, it could not be unseated. Deep inside her body it changed shape again. It stretched her, Brenya keening in pain.

Except, she wasn’t sure if it had been pain at all.

A warm hand on her back, the other still fixed to the device inside the squirming Omega, Jacques smiled. “When an Alpha male chooses to mount an untried Beta female there is a certain protocol that must take place before he can possess her. Had you been optioned for the breeding banks, you would have undergone this practice years ago—just as Annette delighted in these moments with Ancil. Sharing this with you was her idea, and seeing you this way, I can see it was an excellent one. Relax and enjoy.”

Mouth agape, sucking in deep pants of air, Brenya stared forward at the distant wall and saw nothing. She could do nothing. Was reduced to nothing.

All by a single pulsating machine.

A machine designed for one purpose: to prepare a Beta female’s sex organs to accept the far larger, far more powerful Alpha cock.

The way it squirmed and milked the slick from her tunnel curled her toes. The horrid thing had a life of its own, though she might claw the sheets and fight against its intrusion.

Jacques may have pumped it in and out of her, he may have forced it deeper into her cunt when she tried to push it out, but the robot sensed her struggles and redoubled its attack.

The first orgasm had hurt; the machine had torn the pleasure right out of each nerve.

Immediately it altered its shape, sprang into action when her passage clenched as if to grasp an Alpha knot. Shape bloating, manipulating nerves with shocks, with rotary aggression, it had expanded near the base… and made her groan until drool hung from her lips.

An ocean of slick poured like a river, Jacques no longer pinning her down, but petting and watching where her ass had raised up from the bed and her stuffed cunt was on display as if begging for more.

He adjusted the settings. She convulsed, insides wrenching around the mechanical intrusion as it started its expansion process over again.

Rolling her to her back, he drew her knees to her ears, put his weight on her, and moved his body as if it was his member inside her doing the damage and not some cold machine.

He’d dared to kiss her, to comment on her lust-drugged, blown pupils.

The male had called her beautiful as she lay stupefied and twitching.

When she tried to say his name, tried to beg him to stop, he’d smiled, his head slowly descending between her grotesquely spread thighs. Jacques had lapped at the slick seeping out around the machine as if her sex was the sweetest cream.

“I’ve never seen a Beta respond to a Pliarator as you do. What exceptional creatures Omegas are.” Husky, he’d growled, still savoring her juices. “Imagine it’s my cock inside you. When the next knot comes, I want you to feel my seed pulsating in your belly.”

As if on cue, the machine began to expand at its base, to fill her up and stretch her even more than the first time. He watched it work her, Jacques seeing to his own satisfaction with rapid jerks of his hand up and down the veined protuberance jutting forth between his legs.

His cock.

She could smell it in her haze, grunted at it like an animal.

The way he abused his organ, how swollen and purple it grew in his fist, the way he practically gnawed her erect clitoris, they both had to be in euphoric pain.

Ready to spurt, he’d reared back on his knees, drew his lips back from his teeth, the muscles standing up in his neck.

The worst had yet to come.

He spoke a command. The machine responded. It opened up, the false knot inside her growing until a hole was made inside her body just the right size to be exploited.

Falling forward to land on his hand, his musculature tight and twitching, Jacques lined up his fat cockhead with her machine spread opening, smeared her tortured cunt with a dribble of his come, and jerked himself in two more rough tugs until pearlescent spray shot forcefully into the space the machine had made inside her.

His usherings were too much for that little pocket, and his seed surged outside her sex, down her crack, in waves of wet heat, over and over until he pulled from her slit to aim instead for her trembling belly.

He overshot, coating her heaving tits, globs landing as far as her parted lips.

When he had crawled over her body, bobbing his pulsating knot in her face, he’d told her to lick him clean… and she had obeyed.

Without question.

Laving him from bulbous base to mushroom tip, collecting the salty taste, slurping, swallowing. With even more vigour than he’d displayed between her legs, Brenya submitted.

In that moment, she did not possess the mental faculty to understand that the Alpha had manipulated his promise.

Jacques had not fucked her. His machine had.

She’d been vanquished like a prisoner, subjugated like a slave, and used like a whore—sore, tired, mindless, and still under the control of his whirring device.

That had been last night, all night.

Even upon waking, her senses had not fully returned, and here he was, forcing her back on the bed to do it to her all over again.

Betas were never reassigned.

He pushed his toy deeper, speaking warmly. “In a week or two, you’ll be ready for me, mon chou.”

***

Phew! I told you it was hot! 😉

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For pleasure…

#SatSpanks

It’s Saturday, and you know what they means… Time for your weekly spanking, everyone!

This week I am offering a sexy spanking excerpt from one of my three WIP’s.

This particular story is still shrouded in some secrecy, but I’d like to offer you another small taster… Remember this is unedited, but here’s a spanking for pleasure (warning this snippet is for aged 18+ ONLY.)

***

He licks his lips, slowly drawing that large pink tongue from one side of his mouth to the other. “Well, in that case,” he muses out loud. “I would gladly spank you again, but not as a penance, Goldi. This time, I would spank you for pleasure.”

His eyes are the deepest type of blue I have ever seen, and some how they draw me forward, and closer against his body. “For pleasure?” I barely recognise the sound of my own voice – it’s raspy tone is breathy and excited.

“Yes, for pleasure,” he says again, and then, pressing his enormous erection against my hip, he continues. “I will spank that delicious ass of yours, make you cum so hard you won’t know what’s hit you, and then my little imp, I will fuck you into tomorrow.”

My body responds to his words reflexively. My laboured breaths increase, my chest rising and falling at speed. My already tight nipples bead painfully, pushing through the cotton of my tee-shirt, and the dampness between my legs intensifies.

“I can tell that you like the sound of that,” he chuckles darkly.

***

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If you enjoy your naughty romances to be historical, with BDSM and spanking, add my most recent release to your reading list… Taming Lady Lydia – sensual, potent Regency romance!

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The masterful Viking…

#WIPItUpWeds

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This week, I bring you a scintillating passage from my #1 bestseller, The Viking’s Conquest. In preparation for the sequel, I have been revisiting the dramatic liasions between Prince Anders of the Northlands, and Princess Aurelie of Donrose.  Take a look for yourself, and see what you make of their burgeoning romance…

***

I blush at his words, pleased to hear my name back on his lips. He beckons me forward with one finger of his right hand and I move even closer to him.

“More.”

It’s only one word and yet somehow it holds a world of carnal promise for me. I swallow hard behind the leather forced between my lips and inch myself ever closer to him, until my legs brush against the cloth of his garments.

“Good,” he says soothingly. “Now place your hands on the arms of my chair and lean forward, toward me.”

I do so, moving my left and then right arms into position before moving my torso toward the smiling prince seated next to me. He watches every nuance of my body as though he is spellbound by my very essence. His eyes move from the length of my arms to the curve of my breasts now hanging over his body, and up to my face. Here he pauses, raising his own right hand and smoothing back my hair from my face.

“So beautiful, Aurelie…” he says quietly, as though I am not supposed to hear the words.

Our eyes meet again and for a moment all thoughts of my abduction, bondage, and punishment are lost to those pools of desire. I remember the heat of his body against mine the previous night and how masterfully he had taken my maidenhead. I feel a slow blush rising north to my cheeks as the intimate details of our liaison fill my mind and I wonder if he too is recalling our combined passion.

The hand at the side of my face strokes my left cheek as he appraises me thoughtfully and then without warning ducks to the leather at my mouth. One finger dips between it and my skin before leveraging it out of my lips and stretching the leather down to my neck where I feel it land. The same fingers trace a silent line over my lips, although those fierce blue eyes of his never leave my own.

“I have missed that naughty mouth,” he says, winking at me.

My face flames at his words and I can feel the heat searing through me. Anders has missed me—the thought is exhilarating.

***

Read more about Aurelie’s tantalising captivity by grabbing your copy of the book:

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The Viking's Conquest SR Nomination
The Viking’s Conquest cover image.

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A sexy snippet from my WIP…

It’s the beginning of another new week, and I’d like to start this one by revealing a new sexy snippet from one of my three current WIPS’s.

I’m keeping this one pretty close to my chest at the moment, but take a look and see what you think of this tantalising excerpt… All feedback welcome of course!

cropped-garywalker-felicity-banner1.jpg

***

Her gaze takes in the expanse of my face, exploring my responses carefully. “Where are the others?” she asks, her own tone strained.

“Out,” I reply, my mind flitting to the time they’d left the cottage earlier. There will be hours of work required to contain and clean up from the torrents the woods have taken on in the last day, and I had despatched them both to assess the situation. For once, there had been little argument about the order, both of them obviously sated from their session with Goldi this morning. Even Ethan had concurred with little resistance. The image of both of my brothers shifting into animal form as they ran out into the forest is clear in my mind.

“So, you have me all to yourself, sir?” she purrs from beneath me, her use of the title dissolving the memory of my brothers in an instant.

A deep growl escapes from my throat before I can contain it, and her demeanour changes at the sound. She stares at me, wide-eyed, the deep thrumming of her pulse audible as her trapped body squirms beneath me. Dammit, I think, irritated with my own lack of self-control, now you’ve frightened her. I draw in a deep breath, thinking before I answer, willing myself to be calm. “Yes, I have you,” I reply, maintaining eye contact with her. “So, tell me, what should I do with my hot little captive?”

The atmosphere in the bedroom has become palpable, and I know I need to get a hold of myself. Something about this little woman brings out the animal in me, but I don’t want to literally scare her away.

She writhes under me, her stark arousal filling the air around us. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispers, her eyes lowering to my chest. “I’ve never met a man like you before.”

I gaze down at her, my gorgeous, bewildered little fawn. “I know you haven’t, Goldi,” I reply softly.

That’s because I’m not just a man, I think… None of us are.

“How do you know?” She asks, clearly unable to resist responding to what she thinks is a challenge I have set her.

“Let’s just say I do,” I whisper, lowering my mouth to the soft skin of her throat. I explore her nape, pressing hot kisses into her sensitive flesh, and nipping her gently.

She is panting beneath me, her hips bucking against my powerful thighs. Evidently her body is desperate for me, and she’s right – I do have her all to myself…

***

I am having so much fun writing this one, and I look forward to bringing you the book in full soon.

Until then, let’s get this week started!


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The captive is spanked…

#SatSpanks

Happy Saturday! This week I am stepping back to my #1 bestseller, The Viking’s Conquest, to offer you one heated spanking between Anders, and his new captive, Aurelie.

***

He spanks me again, and this time the pressure pushes my pelvis straight into his waiting hand. Once again I gasp at the simultaneous pain of the sting and pleasure at the contact, completely lost to them both. A new sensation hits me; the feeling of his hot mouth at my left hip. He kisses me once, and then twice, his hands still capturing me in their sweet and agonising trap.

“Your behind is very rouged,” he whispers.

I open my eyes for the first time in a while, acknowledging his words and yet, still unable to answer them. After a moment, I catch my breath.

“Yes, my Lofðungr,” I say excitedly.

“Why?” he asks softly, dipping his head and kissing my hip again.

I don’t even think, my mind filled only with this new, all-consuming need that has been revealed. “I was a bad table,” I say, barely recognising my own voice.

“Yes,” he purrs, his head so close to my quivering core that I can feel the heat from it. “Very bad…” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” I reply, frantic for him not to stop this unbelievable feeling between my legs.

“I know you are,” he whispers again, “but your punishment is not through.”

I close my eyes again, just before his right palm spanks my begging behind.

“You need to be punished, Aurelie, don’t you?”

“Yes, my Lofðungr,” I cry, sounding desperate. “Please… Please spank me!”

I can barely believe the words spilling from my mouth and yet I care not for them, and only for the burning ache between Anders’ hands.

Accordingly, he complies, landing one and then another smack. I buck between his hands, my wet core some greedy living thing. It’s as though I have no control over my own body whatsoever. Anders is now the one pulling my strings and I am powerless to prevent it. In fact, on the contrary, I absolutely love it.

***

The Viking's Conquest teaser 1

You can read more of Aurelie’s salacious captivity at these places:

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A glimpse of something new…

#WipItUp

This hump day, I want to share a sexy little snippet from one of the three WIP’s currently on my ‘to-write’ list!

I don’t want to say too much about this story yet, but I am mighty excited about it. It will encompass a number of new elements for me, including facets of the paranormal and some of the hottest menage scenes I have ever written… In this scene, there are only two players, and one scorching (and well-deserved!) spanking.

***

I know she is playing with me, and yet I have never witnessed our guest be so docile and compliant. Not wanting to miss this unique opportunity, I offer her a small grin before kneeling up over her and flipping her onto her belly. She lands gently with a small yell of surprise, but offers little in the way of complaint as I lift her, and shift her soft nudity back over my lap. She settles in on top of me, nudging my hardness with her hip as her legs splay beautifully behind her.

“I’m going to redden this naughty little bottom of yours again, girl,” I say, with a forced severity which I hope she’ll be able to see through.

She twists to her left, assessing my face, and smiles as she realises that I am just feigning in order to heighten her sensation. “Thank you, sir,” she replies, blinking her long lashes at me. “I have been terribly naughty.”

“Yes, you have,” I agree. My palm lands flat against her bare bottom, sending a tremor of sensation down into her sex.

I look to her face, finding that her eyes have fluttered shut, and her mouth has fallen open. I keep watching as I spank her again, slightly harder this time. Her peaceful visage barely changes, although there is just the faintest glimmer of pain as the strike registers.

“I have the feeling that you’ve never been spanked before, Goldi.” The sound of her name revives her, and her blue orbs open, searching for my face. “Tell me, little girl, am I right?”

She braces as she catches the look of my right palm rising behind her, and then stills as it lands against both of her vulnerable cheeks again. This strike is harder still, and leaves a satisfying pink mark on her backside as I move my hand away.

“Yes, sir,” she answers in a whisper. “Nobody has ever spanked me before you.”

A blush engulfs her face at her admission, and the look of her stretched out subserviently over me sends a new, fierce jolt of desire shooting through me. My cock throbs painfully at my middle, desperate to be inside her.

***

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If you like your stories sizzling hot with alpha males and domestic discipline, grab my latest release, Taming Lady Lydia

When eighteen-year-old Lady Lydia Franklin becomes the ward of Lord Thomas Markham after her father’s death, she quickly discovers that the wealthy, handsome gentleman believes in strict discipline for wayward young women. Her penchant for naughtiness soon earns her a sound spanking, but despite his willingness to punish her as often and as shamefully as he feels it necessary, Thomas’ firm-handed correction leaves Lydia helplessly aroused.

Though he is charged with ensuring that Lydia’s innocence is preserved, Thomas cannot help but notice her body’s response to his stern chastisement. It isn’t long before she is lying naked across his lap as she is spanked thoroughly and then brought to a blushing climax, and over the coming days he sets about teaching her what it means to surrender herself completely to a dominant man.

Being taken in Thomas’ arms proves more pleasurable than Lydia ever dreamed, and she finds herself imagining a future as his wife rather than his ward, but the dark rumors about his past are hard to ignore. When he asks for her hand she agrees to be his bride, but once the wedding is over will the bond between them hold firm or will it all end in scandal and heartbreak?

Publisher’s Note: Taming Lady Lydia includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Craving his discipline.

#SatSpanks

It’s Saturday, and we all know what that means – it’s time for a spanking! 😉

This week, I bring you another sizzling interlude between Lord Thomas Markham and his beautiful ward, Lady Lydia. In this scene, Lydia is looking to garner Thomas’ attention, but she gets a little more than she bargained for…

***

The depth of the authority in his voice stirs me, sending energy coursing around my body. It pools at the apex of my legs, causing delicious tingles there. “I am sorry to have pressed the point,” I say, and I mean it, although I cannot help but wonder if it is his discipline which I really crave and have missed this last week.

I swear he senses the answer as he reaches for me. He sinks the fingers of his right hand into my hair and draws my body toward him. “Lydia,” he says, his voice almost a low growl. “Are you being intentionally disrespectful, I wonder?”

A silent gasp leaves my mouth as I look upon him.

“Oh, so you are…” he says with a knowing smile. “That is what this is about…”

I flush, knowing that there is little point denying what we both already know to be true. I glance up to him, my eyes imploring the messages I long to say. He pulls me closer, pressing my head against his warm chest. “Have you missed me, my love?” His voice is a deep murmur into my right ear.

“Yes…” I just about manage.

“And so you have chosen to be intentionally disobedient, to garner my attention?”

I shift my head, looking wildly into his face. “It is not my intention, My Lord,” I whimper.

“Oh, really, little one?” he asks, as that brow arches once again. “I think that is an untruth. I think you did intend to disobey me, and I think you did so because you have missed my discipline. Am I correct?”

I am trembling as I reply, utterly startled by his ability to read me. “Perhaps, yes, My Lord, but I did not want for you to be angry with me.”

He smiles. “Lydia,” he coos. “I am not angry. But you and I both know what happens to naughty, disobedient young ladies, don’t we?”

My mouth parts reflexively. “Will you spank me?” I whimper.

“Yes,” he says, pulling me toward him as he reseats himself. “I realise that I have been remiss in my duties to you, and for that I apologise. I intend to make amends right this moment.”

In an instant he pulls me forward and down toward his lap. “But, My Lord!” I exclaim as I lurch headfirst over his breeches. “Not here, Thomas! What if somebody finds us?”

“We have had this conversation, Lydia,” he says firmly as he hoists me into position, “and I have assured you that I will spank you either with, or without, an audience.”

I gasp, feeling the skirts of my gown, petticoat, and stays dragged up my back, leaving my behind exposed and vulnerable. Almost immediately, his hand lands against my bare skin, the sound resonating around the study. I squeeze my eyes shut, stunned by the escalation of events. I pray silently that none of the staff will hear us and enter the room unexpectedly.

A further four swats are landed on my bottom, and they are hard and intense spanks. I am forced to bear each one, feeling the sting and then warmth they leave after his palm has left. From this angle behind his desk I can see very little, except for the expensive rug at my fingertips.

As the next strike lands, I hear Thomas’ voice from over my head. “Why are you being spanked, Lydia?” he asks.

I notice his voice is calm, but there is just the slight edge of arousal laced there.

“I was disobedient, My Lord,” I reply, my own voice trembling as I do.

“Yes,” he agrees, swatting me hard on the rear again. “You disobeyed me in order to get the attention you require, instead of coming to me and telling me about your needs.”

His hand lands on my behind again. “And for that reason, little one,” he says firmly, “you will receive a sound spanking on your bare bottom, and you will thank me for it.”

I whimper as the next strike lands, catching the pulsating need between my legs. “Yes, My Lord,” I moan from over his lap. “Thank you.”

Five swats land quickly, and instinctively I mean to get up, arching my back as I try to move.

His hand holds me down decisively. “You will stay over my lap, Lydia,” he calls out, and I flinch at the volume, hoping that nobody else will hear him. “You need this punishment, do you not?”

“Yes,” I whine, wincing as the next spank lands.

“Yes, you do,” he says, reaffirming my own thoughts. “So just take it, little one.”

I swallow hard, loathing the way he calls me his little one as he spanks me. The label, of course, helps to reinforce my subservience to him. The onslaught continues, and the stinging sensation is intense. He pushes me on, the utter indignation of the punishment both riling and arousing me. At some point I lose count of the swats, feeling the tension between my legs growing and building. I know I am wet, and I long secretly for Thomas to explore me there.

His palm eventually pauses, pressing itself against the warmth of my bare bottom. “How do you feel now, my love?” His voice is filled with passion.

“Thank you for my spanking, Thomas,” I murmur, unsure what else to say.

I hear him laugh, and slowly, teasingly, his fingers dip between my hot cheeks.

“Well done, my love,” he soothes, as one and then two digits slip against my wetness.

I mewl and groan, loving the intensity of his touch already.

“So wet and beautiful,” he whispers adoringly. “I yearn for our wedding night, Lydia, when I can finally possess you as a man should claim his wife.”

***

Read Thomas and Lydia’s story in Taming Lady Lydia

you can one-click the book right here!

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