Blurb
A
man determined to have his way. A woman in need of taming. The battle
begins.
One
look at the big, half-wild stallion and Asha vows to ride him. One
look at the beautiful stranger sneaking toward his newly acquired
stud and Banner vows to teach her that he’s in control.
Banner
is a soldier, a man who has experienced little beyond weapons and
war, but he and the men he’s responsible for need more than
conflict. Otherwise they’ll lose what’s left of their humanity.
He turns abandoned ranch land into an escape and offers it to
battle-weary fighters.
Nothing
will stand in his way, especially not the slight, determined woman
who insists that only she can handle Koko. He won’t allow her to
risk her life. When she disobeys, he disciplines her. Repeatedly.
Asha
loathes the man who brought her, naked, to her knees, but her body
isn’t listening.
Reader
advisory: This book includes references to sexual harrassment, PTSD
and war injury. There are elements of corporal punishment and
dubious/ambiguous consent.
Excerpt
What
I wouldn’t give to ride him.
His
energy and power everywhere, me becoming part of him. Heat, endless
heat. Wild all the way to his core. His body in absolute control. No
fear or doubt. Potent.
Even
with her heart’s jagged pace warning she might be having a stroke,
Asha continued to stare at the prime example of maleness. She’d
seen unwavering confidence before. Hell, she was pretty damn
confident herself. But this…
Not
wanting to miss a moment of this rare experience, she willed herself
not to blink. The object of her admiration was far enough away that
she doubted the stallion was aware of her, but even if he locked his
dark eyes on her, she’d go on staring open-mouthed at him. She had
no choice.
You
don’t have to chase after them, she silently told the stud. Females
will always do whatever they think it takes to convince you to breed
with them. You can be selective. You assess and most times reject
because you know there’ll always be another. Only the best will do.
Sweat
pooled at the base of her throat while another kind of moisture
soaked her panties’ crotch. From first glance she’d known she
couldn’t be objective about him, but she hadn’t realized her
reaction would be so primal.
She’d
caress that sleek dark flesh, run her fingers through long, coarse
hair, climb onto his back and ride him until there was nothing left
of both of them.
As
if reading her thoughts, the stallion stared at her, a front hoof
furiously attacking the ground. He wasn’t quite coal black, but
close, with a tail that swept the ground and a rich, thick mane. Do
it, he seemed to say. Take the chance.
“You’re
tempting me.”
He
whinnied, the sound sharp. His muscles repeatedly knotted as he
continued his attack.
“There’s
a mare in heat somewhere, isn’t there? You sense her. Maybe you
smell her.”
Barely
aware of what she was doing, Asha jammed her hands in her jeans’
back pockets. The gesture tightened the fabric against her crotch and
brought her attention back to herself. “Is that it? You’re primed
for breeding? You can’t think of anything else. Hot blood runs
through you all the time, keeping you keyed-up. You’d service an
entire herd if they let you.”
Head
high and thick neck arched, the stallion pranced closer. There was a
wooden fence between them, but even if it hadn’t been there, she
wouldn’t have shied away.
“You
don’t intimidate me. That’s because it’s possible I know more
about how you’ll behave than you do. I respect you, but you need to
do the same.”
The
animal stopped and again beat at the ground. He shook his head, eyes
showing more white now.
“You
want to run, don’t you? Gallop without this corral hemming you in.
Work off some of that energy. Believe me, I get it.”
Head
now cocked to the side, the stallion seemed to be considering her
proclamation. She took him to be a little over sixteen hands high and
probably thirteen hundred pounds, the majority of it muscle. The way
his coat shone, people who didn’t know horses would assume he got a
lot of grooming, but his hooves were ragged, his mane and tail
tangled.
“I’m
guessing your coloring has a lot to do with why you were picked for
stud service. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on.
That’s why you aren’t out with the herd.”
Frowning,
she fingered the lock on the corral door. She’d been looking for
him since she’d ventured onto the mysterious place known as Escape,
her attention initially drawn to whistles and thuds. Thanks to her
career, she’d concluded she was listening to an agitated or aroused
horse. The sounds and air of energy had drawn her magnet-like to this
remote section of the acreage.
“It
probably doesn’t matter to you, but I’ve been listening to you
for a while, feeling you in my muscles and bones, letting you command
me.”
Command.
Yes, that was what it had been. Like a starving woman with the scent
of something on a barbeque filling her senses, she’d made the
decision to let instinct have its way with her. She had no business
being here, but who would run her off? At what she understood was
over a hundred acres, chances were she was the only human on most of
them. It hadn’t been called Escape for long. A lot of mystery
surrounded who owned it. She figured farmers or ranchers acquired the
land which was dotted with a couple of barns and a sprawling older
house.
Not
that she should give a damn.
Command.
Pushing
her hair out of her eyes—someday, maybe, she’d figure out how to
contain the auburn mass that reached the middle of her back—she
gripped the top board and gave the stud her full attention. She
wanted him, to own and ride him, to love him and earn his respect.
She’d slip a rope around his muscled neck and guide him to a tree
stump or boulder. Using his mane for leverage, she’d half haul and
half boost herself onto him. She’d settle her crotch on his broad
back and tighten her thighs against testosterone-filled muscles.
She’d weave fingers made strong from a lifetime of physical labor
into his mane, lean forward and whisper in his alert ears.
“Run
for me. Race the wind. Gather your legs under you and take us over
the fence. Free both of us. Gallop until your lungs heave and I’m
hoarse from screaming my delight.”
Her
breath snagged, her cheeks burned and her muscles bunched in reaction
to what she was certain the stallion was capable of. Her already
charged pussy got into the act, muscles clamping down. Her nipples
hardened and she gave up trying to close her mouth.
As
if reading her thoughts, the stallion pranced even closer. He was all
sexual energy, every inch of him leaving no doubt that he’d been
created to excel at one task. She’d seen more stallions than most
people, but there was something outstanding about this creature.
“You’re
making me crazy.”
She
should ask herself if she really wanted to confide in the stallion,
but right now it was too much effort. She started to drop to her
knees in preparation for wriggling under the fence when a shiver of
sensation along her spine stopped her. Was someone watching?
Assessing and judging her? She looked left, right, behind her and as
far into the distance as she could. She didn’t see anything worthy
of alarm but she’d been in enough precarious situations that she
knew better than to dismiss what her nerves were trying to tell her.
To
hell with it! Touching the stallion was more important.
Breathing
quickly, she wriggled under the fence. As she straightened, the
stallion pranced back.
“You
can’t be afraid of me. I know it isn’t that. You just have
trouble containing all that energy. God, but you’re magnificent.
Devil and angel in one package.”
Talking
took too much effort so she concentrated on wiping dirt off her
jeans. Thinking she probably wouldn’t see anyone today, she hadn’t
bothered with a bra, but then she rarely wore one. She was a C-cup,
which meant people would notice, but bras weren’t worth the expense
when being true to herself meant so much. Her untethered breasts and
hard-as-hell nipples were clearly visible under the wear-softened
cotton T-shirt.
If
she were one for introspection this would be when she’d question
why she’d decided to spend her day off exploring Escape. However,
between being more than a little worn down from the long hike and her
reaction to the stallion, she wasn’t sure she knew what she was
thinking.
“Do
you know what the phrase sex appeal means?” she asked the stallion.
“What a woman is trying to get a man to understand when she tells
him she’s turned on? Going by my less-than-extensive experience,
I’m not an expert when it comes to putting out the right vibes.”
She
clamped down on a chuckle. Her suspicion that some man might have his
eye on her right now had twisted her thinking a bit. So she wasn’t
as experienced regarding the opposite sex as she’d like people to
believe. That was her business and had nothing to do with the moment.
If a man was watching, he could come to his own conclusion. It wasn’t
as if she had to have anything to do with him.
She
again slid her hands into her back pockets. Fabric tightened.
“I
don’t know if I’m going to sleep tonight. I’m also not sure I
care. Damn, but you’re beautiful. One of a kind.” She paused as a
surge of something hot ran through her. “Right now, I’d give
anything to be a mare.”
As
if agreeing with her, the big, black, glistening creature stretched
out a densely muscled neck. Holding her breath, she dragged her right
hand out of her pocket and extended it toward him. Warm, moist air
caressed her fingers and sent a fresh frisson of excitement into her.
“Will
you let me ride you? I didn’t bring a bridle or saddle, but I’ve
ridden bareback more times than otherwise. As for a bridle…”
The
thought of pushing a metal bar between those white teeth made her
shudder. She didn’t want to command him in any way. As long as she
was astride him, he’d be in control. She’d trust him not to throw
her, to know she preferred a canter over a trot and a gallop over
everything else. Together they’d run like the proverbial wind and
win every race.
The
stud drew her fingers into his mouth. She embraced the moment.
“I
know you. I think in some regard I always have.”
Tears
she didn’t know she had in her burned. Blinking repeatedly, she
struggled not to let them loose. When they continued to threaten, she
withdrew her damp hand and stroked his neck where muscles and veins
pulsed. Maybe she could go from standing flat-footed to being astride
him on will alone. She tightened a hand around the rough mane and
crouched in preparation for springing. Nothing else mattered. In one
or two seconds she’d—
“Don’t
even think it!”
Buy
Links
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About
the Author
What
prompts a mild-mannered mostly law abiding woman to write erotica and
erotic romance, a lot revolving around BDSM and capture/bondage? Is
it the complex issue of taking or giving up control?
Vonna
Harper doesn't know and she has given up trying to find the answer.
It's enough that many readers are drawn to what some call the dark
side. All she asks is that readers understand she writes fiction--a
brand of fiction she finds fascinating.
Vonna
has lost count of the number of books, novellas, and short stories
she's written. What she has no doubt of, it's a hell of a ride.
https://www.firstforromance.com/index.php?route=product/author/info&author_id=467
You
can follow Vonna on Facebook -
https://www.facebook.com/vonna.harper.35
Giveaway
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