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In the hidden community of magical Chicago, where humans, fae, and supernatural predators live side-by-side, half-fae Clare lands in trouble when her long-suppressed instincts begin to surface in inappropriate displays. Though she's an adult by human standards, the fae kinship courts order Clare into the custody of an uncle she has never met. Though fearful that she will be mistreated, her uncle's strict, affectionate treatment brings her a deep submissive pleasure. Long-neglected Clare begins to blossom emotionally and sensually as she submits to preparation for a traditional fae mating, and it's not long before her burgeoning desires draw attention.
Forestkeeper Rory Seaborn is a full-blooded fae whose cynical attempts to keep a distance can't withstand the submissive signals Clare is putting out. But if she chooses to accept Rory's attentions and become his mate, Clare is committing to a life among the clannish fae—and a life of complete submission. Can Clare surrender herself entirely to gain her deepest desires?
Clare put away her clothes and tidied her room slightly before undressing and climbing into bed with an Arthurian novel of the sort that were just as popular among the magical community as the mundane, though the stories told by the fae and druids varied considerably from the ordinary versions known by most humans. This one, which Elaine had lent to her, had a rather spicy showdown between Nimue and Merlin, which Clare lingered a bit over, and then a long scene with the Green Knight that had Clare imagining Rory as that knight, confidently cruel in proposing his “beheading game.” And she could see herself as the knight's lady, kneeling before him with his hand wound in her hair, his silver-dark eyes fixed upon her...
The girl was a little breathless when she laid aside the novel at Liam's entrance, but she accepted a kiss goodnight and submitted to being tucked in quietly. But Clare couldn't stop imagining Rory as that Green Knight, his absolute control—how his wife would have dipped her head to offer him the nape of her neck, begging him to reassure her with the dominance of his teeth there. She felt hot and restless as she pictured it and at length, her hands wandered between her thighs, and under her panties.
Clare had, of course, received stern instructions from both her aunt and her uncle about not touching herself, but she couldn't imagine it was the sort of crime that was actually prosecuted, so to speak, not in a girl. As long as she was very quiet, it need never be noticed or discussed. It would be too cruel to not allow her any release at all, especially with the difficult stirrings of her instincts to contend with. So Clare settled comfortably under her duvet and touched the warmth between her thighs. She was a little wet, and it felt wonderful to stroke her little pearl softly as she replayed the charged romance in her head again, Rory's eyes lit with desire for her, her own head bent before him in submission. He would be—not cruel, she thought, but demanding. A little rough. Her body would be his domain absolutely, and whenever he pleased, he would spread her thighs and...
Clare had not yet reached the climax of her contemplations when the coverlet was snatched away and her intimate occupation exposed as Liam flicked on the light. Clare jerked her hand away, blinking, mortified. A hasty yank brought her nightgown to midthigh, but her damp fingers were quite unmistakeable. “I'm very disappointed in you,” Liam said, his face stern. “You know the rules, Clare. You know that a little girl in training is not allowed to touch herself.”
“Y-yes, but I didn't...”
“But you didn't think I would find out?” Liam replied unpleasantly. “I check quietly on you every night, Clare. But usually, you're asleep like a good little girl. Why did you decide to disobey me?”
“I was just...” Clare's face was absolutely crimson. “Only I got excited.”
“Then you ought to have asked for a cold bath. We're not mindreaders, Clare. Neither that, nor anything else, gives you an excuse to disobey. Do you understand me, young lady?”
“Yes, Uncle Liam. I'm very sorry.”
“Wash your hands and come back to kneel on the bed,” Liam ordered. “I'm going to get the cane.”
Her Sister's Keeper
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When Isolt Foxfoot, overworked caregiver at a facility for the elderly in the hidden magical community of Chicago, loses her grandfather, she's faced with losing her little sister as well. Elaine is just eighteen, and as both sisters are part Fae, the kinship courts don't consider the unmarried Isolt responsible enough to guide her sister through the special challenges of Fae adolescence. When Isolt confides her difficulties to Elaine's handsome professor, Sebastian Seaborn, however, she finds he's in a not dissimilar position. As a bachelor, he may not be able to gain tenure at the Academy. And after years spent training his brilliant but willful sister, the responsibility of a new emotional encumbrance is the last thing he wants.
But after a hasty wedding and an all-too-brief honeymoon, things become more complicated than either had anticipated. Sebastian is a man used to command, and his quiet dominance rouses the latent submissive instincts of both sisters. And as Elaine begins to look to her brother-in-law for guidance, affection and discipline, Isolt finds herself fiercely protective of her sister's dependence and strangely jealous of her husband's attention.
As wills clash and tempers flare, Isolt faces the truth. She must let go of her determined independence and embrace her submissive desires if she hopes to truly become Sebastian's mate. But can he finally accept the call to true love he's ignored for so long?
“You seem to be finding your place very well already,” he teased, tugging on one of her curls. “But I admit the idea of teaching you pleases me very well.” His hand slid further down into the back of her panties, between her firm cheeks, and he softly rubbed her rosebud with a single finger. “Have you ever been taken here?”
“Th—like that?” Isolt stammered, and she shook her head, blushing delightfully. “Are you going to...?”
“Yes, I think I shall,” Sebastian answered, rather enjoying her confusion since she didn't seem frightened. “It's a common expression of dominance among the fae. And I think once you feel my prick stretching you out there, your own instincts will kick in as well, and you shall understand with flesh what your mind might take months to learn.” He kissed her again, hot and hard, his sharp teeth nipping at her lower lip. “But first I'm going to fuck you properly, Isolt, as husband and wife fit together perfectly. I'm going to fuck you very hard, and I'm going to make you love every second of it.”
“Yes, oh, please,” was all Isolt could say, and she felt a hot, tight press of desire for him deep in her belly. For like this, his sternness tempered with passion and tenderness, he was everything she could ever have dreamed of, ever wanted. And as Sebastian pushed up on one elbow to lean over her, Isolt sprawled gratefully, eager to splay herself for his desirous gaze and deft hands.
“Undress for me,” he growled softly. “I want to see your pretty tits.”
She gave a little whimper at having to move, for with the heat, a wonderful lassitude had spread through her. But she didn't hesitate to obey, rising up onto her knees to unhook her bustier and, with some wriggling, get her panties off. She stayed there, kneeling, as he lifted a hand to trail down her flat stomach, then up again over her ribs till his fingertips teased at the bottoms of her breasts. Then, in a swift, predatory movement, Sebastian pushed her onto her back, coming to rest astride her.
“Hands over your head,” he ordered. “Don't move them, Isolt, do you understand? You're mine, every part of you, and tonight I'm going to take my pleasure of you very completely.”
The Protector's Heart
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When Brietta Larch, a half-blooded Fae apprenticed to the Druidic Circle of Chicago, begins to receive menacing text messages that seem to be from a vampire, she immediately knows the danger is real. Yet no one around her seems to take them seriously—not her mother, not her best friend, not even the peacekeepers an increasingly frightened Brietta reaches out to for protection. But when the vampire attacks her in the middle of the marketplace, one person reacts: Alejandro Halcón, a peacekeeper who has trained himself to see past even the most powerful illusions.
Yet even under Alejandro's protection, Brietta's life begins to fall apart as her stalker manages to get her dismissed from her apprenticeship. To escape the reach of the enemy's spells, the two half-blooded Fae must retreat to the Old World, the lands of Faerie separated from the human world centuries before. There they must discover the key to the vampire's illusions, even as they try to navigate the difficulties of the new love that has blossomed between them. Brietta, independent and strong-willed, has never before even considered submitting to a mate. Yet as she comes to rely on Alejandro's strong and tender discipline, she realizes that she has been denying a part of herself all her life. When Alejandro leaves her in the Old World to be trained by the beautiful Fae healer Leithril, Brietta is determined to learn submission and become worthy to be claimed as his mate. But as weeks pass and Alejandro does not return, she begins to fear the worst. Brietta must find the strength to save her beloved...or face the loss of all their newfound hopes and dreams.
“You should just give me to him,” she said, sitting upright on the sofa as Alejandro poured her a glass of wine. “Just get it over with. It doesn't matter.”
Alejandro's jaw tensed. “That's not going to happen, Brietta. You need to calm down.”
“Calm down? He—my--” All the tears, all the terror and sorrow that Brietta had repressed for days seemed to come flooding out, and she could scarcely gasp through the sobbing. “I'm nothing...nothing...just let it be over.”
He laid the glass aside and sat down beside Brietta, taking both her hands into his. “You're Brietta Larch. You're a soil-speaker, and you're the strongest lady I've ever met in my life. That's what you are. And I'm damned if I'll let some cheap Euro-trash vampire destroy that.”
But Brietta was too overwhelmed to hear him or respond to his assurances. “Over, over, want to die...” she wept, rocking back and forth, hysterical.
Alejandro gave a long, pained sigh, and then, in an abrupt gesture, he pulled Brietta over his knee. “You are not going to die,” he snarled, yanking up her dress and bringing his hand down on the seat of her panties in a hard spank. “And I am not letting anyone touch you. So you better make up your mind to live, 'cause that's what's going to happen.”
Brietta gasped and struggled wildly, but Alejandro shifted position, scissoring her legs between his strong thighs and bringing one big hand to rest on the nape of her neck, squeezing tightly. Fuck. Brietta had not been caught by the scruff of her neck in years—not since her father's death. Because of the peculiarities of Fae physiology, the gesture drew on thousands of years of instincts, sending Brietta still and submissive, even against her own will. She shuddered, sobbing loudly, but her struggles ceased.
“That's better,” Alejandro said sternly. He settled into a fast, hard rhythm of spanks, and Brietta gasped at every strike, at the tantalizingly brief contact of his hand on her rear. He didn't move to pull down her panties, but it hardly mattered; she could feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric. “There is no way in hell we're giving up, Brietta. Does that hurt?” he demanded.
“Ye-es,” she gasped. “Alejandro, please...”
“That's good,” he said, spanking harder, his big hand moving down to her thighs to offer the same punishing treatment there. “You know what that means? It means you're alive. And as long as you're alive, we can make things right.”