Unleashed volume 2 unlea.., p.1
Unleashed: Volume 2 (Unleashed #2), page 1
HOT ALPHA ROMANCE, VOLUME 2
Copyright © 2016 Callie Harper
Cover Design Jada D’Lee Designs
Ebook Formatting by Jesse Gordon
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people, or places is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission except in the case of brief quotations used for review. If you have not purchased this book or received a copy from the author, you are reading a pirated book.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 2 Now
CHAPTER 3 Now
CHAPTER 4 Now
CHAPTER 5 Now
CHAPTER 6 Now
CHAPTER 7 Now
Unleashed: Hot Alpha Romance, Volume 3
I wobbled into Declan’s penthouse apartment dazed, shaking and horny as hell. I guess a sound spanking in an elevator could do that to a girl.
“Sit.” Declan pointed at a stool next to a granite countertop.
All mixed up, I decided it wasn’t such a bad idea. Tugging the ridiculously tiny skirt I wore down as much as I could, I perched up on the stool. I crossed my legs and pretended to look out the window. Act casual. It was a challenge when my nipples stood out hard and aroused, pressing against the black silk of my demi-cup bra. My shirt still lay on the floor of his private elevator where he’d ripped it right off of me.
What had just happened? Had he spanked me for disobeying him? And had I loved it? A bit different than what I’d planned for that night. I’d intended to have a stern conversation with him, terminating our arrangement before it even began. A wild, reckless, no-holds-barred one-week bargain? That was out of the question. That kind of thing didn’t happen in real life, only in books. The naughty kinds. My favorite.
I squirmed on the stool. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my skirt. My panties were also back in the elevator, right where he’d ripped them off, too. I squeezed my thighs. I was still so wet. My sex throbbed. He hadn’t let me come. I needed to come.
“Do you like the view?” Declan asked. He stood over by an impressively well-stocked bar, placing ice into two glasses.
“Oh, yes.” Right, the breathtakingly impressive view before me. The entire wall was comprised of windows overlooking Billings at night. We had to be in the tallest building in the city. Headlights, streetlights, lit squares in city buildings all jostled together, framed by the dark wilderness beyond. The days were so long this time of year I could still see the faintest distinction between the black jagged ridge of the mountains and the subtly lighter sky.
Inside was just as impressive, with an open flow from the chef’s kitchen into the high-ceilinged expanse of living room. The few pieces—and yes, they were pieces, not furniture—stood out sleek and modern. I couldn’t see any clutter anywhere, nothing on the tables or counter tops, no knick-knacks, houseplants or recipes torn from magazines. The whole penthouse screamed of wealth and privilege. And looked like no one actually lived there.
“Your hair’s much longer now.” Declan poured some amber liquid from a tall glass decanter, then replaced the stopper.
“My hair?” I ran a couple of fingers through my ponytail. They instantly got caught in a tangle. It had been quite an elevator ride.
“It used to be past your chin, not touching your shoulders.” He poured some tonic into the glasses.
I remembered, back during those summer months with him when I was 18. I had worn my hair shorter, sometimes with a headband or in two ponytails. Now my hair was much longer, largely due to neglect. I hadn’t had time for haircuts during the past couple of years, hadn’t done much more than pull it back. But at the salon yesterday they’d loved it and refused to cut more than an inch or two.
Declan strode leisurely over to me with our drinks, the ice clinking against the glass. He looked frustratingly composed and put-together. Of course he still wore all his clothes, tall and gorgeous in an impeccably tailored dress shirt and dark jeans. Self-conscious, I tried to finger-comb my locks.
“Don’t.” He looked at my nervous hands. I stopped. “I like it like that. It reminds me how I fisted my hand in your hair and spanked you.”
I flushed, suddenly embarrassed as a schoolgirl. His dirty words brought another rush of sensation between my legs.
He handed me a drink, then crooked a finger under my chin, tilting my head up until I met his eyes. “You look amazing.”
I couldn’t help but blossom under his praise, a soft flush blooming in my cheeks. I suppressed a smile and looked out at the view again, taking a sip of my drink. He’d made it strong. I set it down on the granite countertop. Being near him was intoxication enough.
He stood next to me and I could feel his heat. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted, exactly the way I’d dreamed of for so many years. And now it wasn’t just a fantasy. He was standing right there, close enough to reach out and weave my fingers through his hair, kiss him on his full, sensual mouth.
I kept my hands by my sides, cleared my throat and fidgeted on the stool.
“What were you doing down there in the bar?” Declan asked in a low, level voice.
“Waiting tables?” My voice came out breathy and nervous. He waited for more explanation, a dark look in his eyes. I shrugged. “I’m not good with a lot of time on my hands. I had a hard time waiting today.”
“You were impatient?” A dangerous smile played on his full lips.
I swallowed and shook my head, denying it though I knew it was true. I had been impatient to see him. I didn’t know why I was trying to preserve my dignity while I was sitting there in nothing but a scrap of a skirt and a lacy bra.
I remembered how he’d torn off my shirt in the elevator, how he’d pinned my hands over my head and devoured my breasts, sucking and licking as I cried out. Declan’s gaze fixed on my chest as if he were remembering the same thing. I shifted on the stool again, agitated and still so wet. He’d brought me so close in the elevator, then left me wanting, needing more.
“Is it hard for you to wait, Kara?” He drew closer still, bringing a finger to my jaw. He traced my face lightly as if memorizing a sculpted work of art.
I shook my head no, my pussy throbbing yes. “I just didn’t like sitting around waiting for you.”
“Mmm. You didn’t like me having all the power?” Teasing now, he tilted his head slightly to the side. He studied me, caressing my neck with his hands. My lips parted, my breath quicker now.
Softly, he trailed his fingers over my skin. Strong, broad hands, thick calloused fingers traced the outline of my bra. Teasing me, he slipped a finger under the strap, bringing it back out, dipping along the lace, circling but not touching my nipples. In the stockroom last night he’d pinched them, hard, and sucked them full into his mouth.
In a low whisper, near my ear he asked, “Or do you like me having power over you?”
A hushed moan escaped from my lips. He chuckled, low and gratified.
“You made me wait a long, long time for you,” he murmured. “Six years.” His lips made their way slowly down my throat, his fingers stroking my back, my shoulder, my collarbone. He wove a hypnotic spe
I shivered at his words, my eyes half-closed, my breathing starting to come in soft pants.
“We have an agreement. I’m going to take care of you, Kara, wipe out every debt you have, get you back on your feet, anything you need. And in return, you’re going to give yourself to me. Entirely. Completely. You’re going to surrender to my control.”
“Declan…” I began to form a protest.
“You sent this.” As if anticipating my hesitation, he took his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen, then showed me a text. My text.
I’m in. One Week. Anything you want.
Hard to argue with that. I blushed.
He dipped down and whispered in my ear, “I like making you blush.” His lips found my lobe, licking and sucking the tender flesh. His hands circled my waist, stroking my skin, building the wicked heat throbbing between my thighs. So light yet so insistent, his tongue found the most sensitive spots at my neck.
Then he pulled away. “We have a few things to consider.” What was that, now? I could barely pull a coherent thought out of my jumbled brain other than ‘yes, more, now,’ but he suddenly sounded all business.
“We’re flying to New York on Monday to spend the week. You’ll need some clothes.”
“I have some business in the city and you’re coming with me. You’ll need to go shopping tomorrow. And I have a question. Are you protected?”
“Are you protected? Or do I need—?”
“Oh, oh,” I stammered and blushed again. “Yes.” I didn’t add that it didn’t make any sense that I had an IUD, a virgin on birth control. A couple of years ago I’d decided to do it. Safe, simple, effective, I’d hoped maybe it would give me the push I needed to get out there and start getting busy. Even back then I knew I’d been mooning over Declan for way too long. But then my father had gotten sick and suddenly the problem of my love life or lack thereof hadn’t mattered anymore.
Declan nuzzled into my hair, inhaling, taking in my scent as he caressed my shoulders. “I’m clean, Kara. I’m going to go bare with you.”
I knew he was talking but I could scarcely process his words with him so close, breathing me in, mesmerizing me with his touch.
“I’m going to do things to you you don’t even know about yet,” he continued, his hands up again at the swell of my breasts still in my bra. I was breathing so hard I could see my rib cage moving in and out, my skin quivering under his touch. Why did we feel like such a perfect fit? His large, strong hands palmed my breasts, his fingers cupping and caressing, teasing me along the edge of the lace. “And you’re going to love it all, aren’t you, Kara? You’re going to learn to crave my discipline.”
“Declan,” I panted, reaching up to his shoulder, so big and so powerful. He grasped my wrist in his hand, holding it secure, bringing it behind my back. He kept it there, pinning it behind me while he stroked the soft inside of my wrist.
“I’m going to bring out your darkest desires,” he murmured. I shivered at his promise, his warning. Watching my face, taking in my every reaction, he brought his free hand to my aching nipple, pressing erect and needy against the border of the lace. Slowly, gently, he eased the demi cup down, just enough to set it free. So swollen, so sensitive, I gasped, looking down and seeing how exposed I was. My body begged for his touch.
“I’m going to unleash your fantasies, the ones you don’t even admit to yourself that you have. I’m going to give you what you want when you stroke yourself in the dark at night.” With that, he brought his large fingers to my sensitive nipple and pinched, hard, shooting sensation directly down to my throbbing, slick sex.
“Ah!” I cried out, eyes half closed, pushing my breast into his hand. He still held my arm behind my back and I loved the feel of his strength, his control.
“You’ve been naughty.” His voice grew harsher, more disciplined. “Naughty girls get punished. You’re going to take your punishment, Kara. And you’re going to like it.”
Confused, scared by the strength of my own reaction even more than his words, I broke away. “I need…” To find where I left my mind, slap some sense into myself, start breathing again. “Where’s the bathroom?”
He leaned back and pointed through a doorway.
I made it there, closing the door and locking it behind me. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to clear my head. I closed my eyes and pressed into a white hand towel, soft against my skin, and stayed like that for a minute steadying my breath.
It all felt too much. I’d come here seeking his help, knowing it was risky, but I’d had no idea to what extent. I’d never imagined myself in this position, faced with having to choose whether or not to offer myself up for a week to the man who already held such power over me. I never would have believed I’d be so tempted to say yes.
I was older now so I guess I’d thought I’d be wiser, more in control. I’d dismissed my earlier feelings as teenage infatuation. I didn’t think Declan would still affect me so strongly. But he made me absolutely crazy. It might even be worse than it ever had been before. It shouldn’t be possible, but it was. I’d been a fool to think otherwise.
I opened my eyes to an expanse of white marble. In the mirror, a trashy skank escaped out of a bar brawl looked back at me. Hair sprung every which way, lips swollen from rough kisses, I wore nothing but a bra since my shirt had been torn clean off.
What did everyone think down in the bar? Declan had barreled his way through, shoving chairs and men aside like a predator pouncing on its dinner. Thankfully he hadn’t punched that guy who’d had his arm around me. He hadn’t had to, the Ken doll had shrunk away.
Trish must have lost her mind. Declan had made quite a scene, tossing me over his shoulder like a warrior claiming his prize after a battle. I remembered the longing in Trish’s voice when she said she wanted a night with him.
Damn, was she right. I exhaled, hands on my stomach. Declan was all that. I could still feel his hands on me, the roughness of his palm followed by a soothing caress. Oh God did I want him.
In the mirror, I had to admit, though I looked like I’d been through a tornado and a wolf attack I also looked…alive. Eyes bright and shining, lips plump and parted. He’d woken me up. I’d been sleepwalking day to day for a long, long while. Now, every fiber of my being was tingling and buzzing, craving his next touch.
Part of me wanted to just let go, be reckless, allow myself to do this. I was so sick of playing it safe, doing what was expected, stoically meeting whatever challenges life threw my way. And there’d been so many challenges these past few years, sickness and death and bankruptcy. I was only 24 but sometimes I felt like those numbers had been reversed. I wanted to be wild, for just one week, and have the freedom to not care.
But that was exactly the problem. I did care. I brought my palms down against the cold marble.
I could already feel it starting again with Declan, the magnetic way he drew me to him, the attachment welling up deep within me. I did care about him. I always had. Pretending I could do one week, a simple business transaction, keeping feelings and emotions out of it? That was impossible. No way it could happen.
I shook my head. There was no way I could let myself fall for him again. The first time around, the crash and burn had been so painful. This time around, I was pretty sure the damage would be irreparable.
Drawing up to my full height, I redid my whacked-out ponytail, smoothing it down to the best of my ability and tucking loose strands behind my ears. I needed to walk out there and tell him that this was a mistake. It didn’t matter if he was about to bail out my ranch, this was too much for me to risk. I would get the keys to my truck and leave the city. Now.
Out in the main room, Declan stood at his expansive window looking like an ad for some expens
“I think…” I began, hating the hesitancy that instantly crept into my voice. “I’m going to…” Glancing down, I realized I’d need a shirt if I was going to head down and out of the building. A shirt that hadn’t been ripped in two.
He looked over, his dark gaze beckoning. “Come here, Kara.”
I exhaled with frustration. “Declan, I don’t know what’s happening here. I don’t know anything when I’m around you. It’s like I completely lose my mind.”
He continued to watch me, his eyes smoldering. To a casual observer he might have looked like a man of leisure relaxing in his den. But I saw the tightly coiled heat, the animal within waiting, demanding more. My pulse jumped.
“Come here,” he repeated, his voice silky with sin.
“Declan.” I reached internally for the script I’d prepared in the bathroom. “This has all been a mistake. A big, crazy mistake. I really can’t do this.”
“Kara.” His voice was rough and deep. I loved the way he said my name, a carnal caress.
“I can’t think when I’m around you!” I cried.
“You’re thinking too much.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t think that’s my problem.” Caught in the burning heat of his gaze, I felt breathless.
Why did my legs betray me, taking steps over to him? And why could I already feel heat building in me, a pulsing throb deep in my core?
He put his drink down on a table, watching me the whole time. I stood facing him, trembling and exposed. He stood close, so close I could almost feel him as his eyes raked over me. I felt stripped naked though I still wore my skirt and bra. I shook slightly, half with fear, half anticipation.
by Callie Harper have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes