All Wrapped Up Vol. 3
by Lena Austin, Marteeka Karland, Emma Ray Garret, and Jade Buchanan
eBook ISBN: 978-1-59596-822-7
Bound to Please by Jade Buchanan: Melaina Carey has a secret she’s desperate to keep hidden from her nest mates. Tristan and Dougal are going to have to prove they’re man — and vampire — enough to control her every move. (Warning: Includes blood play, rope bondage, and erotic pain.)
Caught by Marteeka Karland: Zuri Starbreeze is a bounty hunter on the trail of a cold-blooded killer. What she doesn’t know is that Cade’s hunting her. Zuri can resist and risk the wrath of a killer, or submit — and risk losing herself in a den of kinky bondage and wild sex. No matter her choice, she won’t come out of this the same.
Bonds of Matrimony by Lena Austin: Alex has had enough of living with a hellcat who jumps at the sound of a ringing com unit. He and Millicent have become a dysfunctional pair bond. He’d give anything to have things the way they were, but if Millicent knew his true fantasies, she’d run. Wouldn’t she?
Torqued by Emma Ray Garrett: Being a dominatrix gives Agent Pru Gordon access to the Nightside — and lets her fulfill her fantasies at the same time. It’s the perfect life. Until she meets vampires Gage Mills and Ro Thomas. When two of the darkest predators around meet up with the best Controller alive, things are bound to get messy… Just what the Domme ordered.
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Bonds of Matrimony by Lena Austin
Oh, Peace, her warm, full lips felt good wrapped around his cock. Alex sighed and combed his fingers through her soft dark hair, luxuriating in his wife’s excellent technique. If only she wasn’t such a bitch like she was when she parked the aircar and came storming in yelling on her wristcom at one of her three assistants. Now she was trying to “make it up to him.” She had a lot of making up to do, she claimed. Yeah, right.
“Million Dollar” Millicent Devereaux was a real estate entrepreneur who raided old properties, buying up the worst places and returning them to their former glory as old suburban utopias. The semi-wealthy paid handsomely for the privilege of mowing their little half-acre lawns surrounded by white picket fences and special services like a milkman bringing fresh dairy products to their doors.
Personally, Alex thought the idea of mowing the lawn a little nauseating. He preferred their small terraformed asteroid all to themselves, poised between Earth and Mars. Living within one half-acre of another human was barbaric and reminded him of the days before asteroid colonization when humans crowded together in huge buildings, inviting disease and never having a moment of peaceful contemplation. As the premier designer of art glass and stained glass in the system, he needed time to think and peace. Lots of peace.
Millicent’s — never Millie, thanks — wristcom bleeped. Without lifting her mouth from his half-hard cock, she lifted her left hand. Then she let go of his cock with a soft pop. “Sorry, honey. I need to take this.” She rose from her kneeling position between his knees and wandered off, briskly giving orders. Her naked, dark brown butt wiggled out of sight toward her office.
Alex sighed, torn between relief and frustration. The sight of his wife with her rare coffee colored skin and incredibly soft curls had once aroused him to a near frenzy. Even now, the memory of her exotic beauty made his cock twitch to life like her lovely full lips couldn’t do. That had been when both of them were young, poor and ambitious students. Now look at them, a dysfunctional pair-bond on the verge of unraveling.
Millicent claimed she enjoyed her work, but her pleasure didn’t make life pleasant for anyone around her. She kept her fingers in every aspect of every project, even while she preached about hiring the best and letting them do their job. If she wasn’t in a safety suit physically on site, she was yelling at someone for any hitch in her plans. Alex bet the only reason contractors worked for her was the money — she was the best game in town when it came to large projects that kept companies in business. She certainly had no compunction about taking her frustrations out on her husband, giving him the sharp edge of her tongue for every slight, real or imagined.
Fuck waiting. He slapped the edge of the long sofa where Millicent had pushed him, closed his pants, and stomped back to his studio dome to finish the interpretation of the Rose Window of the old Notre Dame Cathedral, now long since blown to dust in the Age of Terror. What was the point in waiting for his wife to return from bitching at some other hapless soul? He had work to do before he started his annual vacation.
* * *
Millicent shoved her braids out of her face and threw her wristcom on her desk. Dammit, why did her assistants have the worst timing in the known universe? She’d told them not to disturb her unless it was a strict emergency, so when the call came in she’d assumed there was an emergency, not some idiot delay in schedule easily repaired with a call to the landscape supplier.
Taking a calming breath, she held on to her stomach as her newly discovered Stress Related Digestive Disorder pinged her with pain and a need to throw up. She deserved to be in pain, and she knew it. Her doctors had warned her for years that she was cruising for SRDD, and no one was surprised when the diagnosis came in.
What had surprised her was the contractor yelling back at her today and telling her she needed to take a hard look at what she was doing to others with her bitchiness. He was right, and she’d been wrong, but breaking the habits of a decade was proving harder than Millicent had ever thought possible. Even more difficult might be saving her marriage. She had a lot of making up to do to her gentle, quiet Alex, and that meant finishing the blowjob for a starter. Then she intended to do something she hadn’t done in years — actually cook a meal for them just like she’d done when they were newlyweds. He had no idea of all her plans, and Millicent couldn’t wait to surprise him.
She skidded to a halt on the tiles when she saw the sofa was empty. Her shoulders sagged. Millicent couldn’t blame the poor guy. After all, for years hadn’t she allowed interruptions and finally remembered her husband hours later? Shit, what a heel she was. But, Million Dollar Millicent didn’t give up that easily. She’d cook that meal using a real open flame, and program the ventilation to waft the delicious scent right to his dome. Then she’d lay on him the big surprise — the vacation plans of a lifetime.
Millicent braised, stirred and sautéed until she thought she’d die, but her scheme worked. She hid her burned right hand behind her back and grinned in triumph when Alex came sniffing like a canine through the portal. All the trouble and pain had been worth it if she could still entice him away from his muse.
Her handsome husband was a treasure worth more than the rest of their wealth combined to her. Millicent could be as poor as they were in school, and still count herself fortunate if she had Alex beside her. Long legs with just enough hair, a beautiful thick cock with a perfect bend, a slim waist tapering outward to broad shoulders, and his artistic defiance of minimalist fashion to wear shoulder-length brown hair. All that was nothing compared to his eyes. He too was a “rare” like her, with pure blue eyes the same color as Earth’s blue skies. Millicent loved those expressive, marvelous eyes and what they saw of the world around him. He created new things, whereas she only imitated that which had been done before.
Alex blinked. “You cooked.” His eyes studied the mess she’d made of their normally pristine and disused kitchen. “Peace take me. All of it? No nukes or caterers?”
Millicent glowed with pride. So what if her right hand was killing her, she stank like a sweaty subbie, and she was so tired she could barely stand? “Yes, I did. I promised I have a lot of making up to do, and this is just the beginning.” Millicent waved toward their dining room. “Let’s eat.”
Frowning, Alex caught her hand and studied the burn. “Not until you’ve had that treated, Missy. The table will keep our food warm that long.” He dragged her — dragged her! — to the bathroom and the med cabinet, and shoved her bodily into the diagnosis cavity.
Millicent was so shocked at the way he’d aggressively taken over the situation, her mouth hung open like an idiot. Why was she permitting this treatment, and why did her pussy turn to goo? Was she enjoying losing control of a situation? Hell, she must be. Millicent shrugged and let the diagnostic run. As long as she was enjoying herself, why not let him dominate?
The mechanical voice of Doctor crackled out of the speaker. “First diagnosis: first degree burn on right hand. Recommend antibiotic burn ointment. Programming medicine cabinet to dispense dosage. Second diagnosis: Stress Related Digestive Disorder in upper digestive system. Noted prescription already programmed from outside source. Dispensing dosage to be taken with evening meal. Recommend immediate R&R.”
Alex folded his arms across his chest and looked stern. “SRDD? Previous diagnosis from an outside source?”
Whoops. She hadn’t told him. Millicent swallowed and stepped out of the cavity. “No big deal, Alex. I threw up a few times, so I had the med cabinet at the office on Earth check me.”
Before she could finish explaining, Alex had her enveloped in a protective hug, as if he could keep her from her own folly. “Silly clit. I’ll bet you were protecting me again. When will you learn?” He patted her ass in a mock spank that stung for just a moment and released her. “Sit down and let me put the medication on.”
Chastened, Millicent sat and let him medicate her hand. She remained quiet but plastered on a smile all the way through until she served him his favorite dessert, apple pie made with real apples from Earth’s famed garden district once called Virginia.
Millicent pondered her enjoyment of that light smack on her naked butt, and worried about her surprise gift for their vacation. Their vacation. Wasn’t that funny? For the first time in years, their schedules didn’t conflict, and they’d go to the same place as a couple. At least, she hoped Alex would agree.
Alex shoveled the first piece in, and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed in a hurry. “Delicious. Now are you going to tell me why you’re buttering me up? Whatever it is, you want it pretty bad.” He shook his fork at her and gave her that knowing smile that said he’d already forgiven her for whatever crime she’d committed.
At first, Millicent was a little hurt. Was that what he thought all that work was for? A bribe? On second reflection, yeah, she deserved the accusation. She had lubricated the way for a few of her wants by various forms of bribery to soften his heart. She shoved her sliver of pie around without biting for a moment. “Okay, I deserve that accusation. This time, however, I think I have a good reason.”
“You always say that.”
Ouch. True. Millicent winced and plodded on. Swallowing her fear of rejection, she looked into those gorgeous blue eyes of his. “I want to save our marriage, Alex.”
He blinked several times, completely nonplussed. The storm shutters came down over his eyes, and his face became blank and calm. Even his voice was coldly unemotional. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
Under the table, her fingers latched together in her lap. This negotiation meant more to her than everything else she’d ever done. “Yes, I did.” Millicent let that sink in, but he didn’t move or soften one muscle. “I’ve arranged my vacation to begin the day before yours.”
Her husband knew her better than anyone else, and he studied her in minute detail as only an artist of his skill could. Maybe he read her sincerity, because she saw an infinitesimal relaxation in his shoulders, but not his eyes. They remained coolly assessing. “So?”
His hard, unyielding tone surprised her. Alex had always been easygoing, willing to do anything as long as it didn’t interfere with his art or his strong pacifist belief systems. This new attitude was unnerving. He would not be manipulated and recognized her attempts at such. He would have to be persuaded, and with complete honesty. Millicent faltered for a moment before the words tumbled from her mouth without filtering through her brain first. “I… I… booked us both for a week at Augustine’s Planet. Together.”
Alex was on his feet in an instant, his face both wrathful and another emotion Millicent couldn’t name. “Augustine’s Planet? That hedonistic playground? Are you insane? It costs millions of credits, and that’s assuming you don’t want the… Oh, Peace Take Me… you took the therapy.” He sat back down slowly, his face awed. “You probably wiped out most of your personal fortune.”
Millicent nodded and leaned forward, trying desperately to show she didn’t care. “That doesn’t matter. I’ll make more next cycle.”
Once more his face hardened, but this time his body remained semi-relaxed, giving her hope. “You could have asked me if I was willing to go to that extent. You always were arrogant enough to assume I’d fall in line with your plans.”
Millicent bit her lip, ready to get down on her knees and beg if she had to. “You’re right, Alex. It was rude of me to make assumptions.” She swallowed her pride, and it sat like a hard lump in her aching gut. Millicent begged her stomach not to throw up. “Please, Alex, let’s try to renew our marriage on Augustine’s Planet?”
He let her squirm for ten long heartbeats, and then he smiled. “Much better. Yes. I assume you’ve chosen the venue as well? Let’s hear it all.”
Millicent wanted to faint in relief, and hid her wooziness by reaching into her briefcase, hidden beneath the table. She slid two stacks of papers on the table, and a small jeweled box. “The therapy facility is located in the tropical zone on a large island, and is supervised by Rendol Augustine himself. It all starts with filling out these sexual preference forms to identify our deepest fantasies. Oh, and we take these pills so we tell the truth. I get the impression Mr. Augustine doesn’t like lies.”
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