"Deep Cover" by Anna J. Evans 2/29 release!

"Deep Cover"
By Anna J. Evans
February 2008 from Ellora's Cave



BLURB:

In a dangerous new world where human fragility is a priceless commodity to brutal alien Dominanats, being a submissive can mean taking your life in your hands. The very idea makes alien ops agent Samantha's skin crawl. She's a woman in charge--in bed and out--and only fear for the life of her partner, Calen, could convince her to pretend otherwise.

When Calen goes undercover as an alien Dom in one of New York City's most violent S and M parlors, Samantha knows she has to folllow and pose as his submissive. For Calen, she'd risk anything, even discovering the lifestyle she thinks she abhors might actually be the stuff of her most wicked fantasies...

EXCERPT:

She’d had a few sips of a stiff drink at the bar—a Long Island Iced Tea the bartender had called it, claiming it was a favorite near the turn of the century with college kids looking to get the most alcoholic bang for the buck—but that couldn’t explain the rush Sam was feeling as she lifted her arms, allowing Calen to chain her wrists to manacles on the wall behind her. After all, she’d never get intoxicated while on a mission, at least not on alcohol.

As far as her hyperactive hormones were concerned, however, she wasn’t sure she was going to have any choice. Just breathing near Calen right now made her higher than she’d ever been on a controlled substance.

“Now don’t move, not until I give you permission,” he said, his strangely golden eyes boring into hers with a heat that made her already accelerated breath come even faster.

Even knowing they were only colored contacts couldn’t dispense with her fascination with Calen’s new eyes. They were gorgeous, captivating, much like the rest of Calen in his Mage Dom gear. The soft leather vest fit him like a glove, outlining every perfectly sculpted muscle beneath. The equally tight black pants left nothing to the imagination, letting her know just how exciting Calen was finding their first few minutes in the playroom. He was magnificently hard, his cock straining against the leather, making her traitorous pussy leak with a constant, insistent need.

Her thong had been drenched even before they’d entered the club, now it was barely capable of containing her juices. The evidence of her desire would be leaking down the inside of her thighs any moment, but for some reason the thought didn’t make her ashamed. Instead, it excited her, just as the playroom itself with its dark red velvet walls and dim lighting excited her, just as the music the Mage had chosen, a deep throbbing Celtic-inspired techno excited her. It was as if Club Magan had been constructed from her sexiest dreams, and Sam was finding it all too easy to relax into her role.

Even knowing that Mage mind control could be responsible for intensifying her craving for this experience couldn’t dull her desire, especially not when Calen began to run gentle hands over her body, tracing her curves with a reverence she prayed was real. For all she knew, he had touched Kit the same way, teased the tiny blonde’s nipples through her leather corset, drug down the zipper of her skirt with the same trembling hands. But Sam chose to believe this night was as mind-blowing for Calen as it was for herself.

Believing anything else would shatter her, and she couldn’t afford to be shattered right now. There was enough of her right mind left to remember that, to remember the mission to free Elena and to choose to allow herself to pretend there was no Kit, only she and Calen, partners as they had always been.
“Turn around,” Calen ordered, his breath coming in quick bursts against her lips. He was so close Sam’s nipples nearly brushed against the front of his chest, as if he was shielding her from the rest of the room, not wanting to share her with even the eyes of the alien men.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam replied, a surge of feminine power sweeping over her as a muscle in Calen’s jaw leapt in response.

They’d discussed that she should address him as Master or Sir, but this was the first time she’d used the deferential word. Strangely, it made her feel powerful, desirable, not inferior. Or maybe it was the passion in Calen’s eyes as she slowly spun on her chains that made her lips curl in a small smile. Sam could safely say she’d never felt so beautiful, so desired in all her life. At that moment, as Calen tugged her skirt down to the floor and urged her to step free of the garment, she felt like a sexual siren, a woman capable of bringing men to their knees with want for her.

Apparently, Calen felt the same way.

She moaned as he took her hips in his wide, strong hands and knelt on the floor behind her, bringing his mouth close enough to her ass that she could feel his breath on her skin. Her pussy clenched fiercely around its own emptiness, craving Calen’s hands, his mouth. Or better yet that thick cock she’d felt pressed so tightly against her out in the street. But it seemed he had other ideas.

First his tongue traced delicate swirls around one globe of her exposed bottom, feathering in gentle circles that made the ache between her legs intensify more quickly than she would have dreamed. By the time he’d given the same attention to the other side of her ass, Sam was panting with need, unable to resist the temptation to tilt her hips, arching just enough to urge Calen to attend to the slick, weeping channel that pulsed with hunger for him.

Calen’s response—swift, hard smacks on the relaxed flesh of her ass—was a complete surprise. Her body’s electrified reaction to the spanking, however, was a flat out shock.

A sound escaped from her parted lips, but it wasn’t a gasp of pain, it was the thick, impassioned cry of a woman close to coming harder than she’d ever come before. Her nipples tightened to the point of pain and every inch of her skin buzzed with awareness, a high she’d never felt, not a day before in her life.

“I said, don’t move. Not until I give you permission.” Calen’s voice was deeper than she’d ever heard it, husky with emotion and lust. Lust for her. That knowledge alone was almost enough to tip her over the edge. “And don’t come,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I’ll tell my pussy when she can come. Do you hear me, Samantha?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sam said, surprised at how blissful she sounded.

“Good girl.” He rewarded her obedience by tugging her thong down her legs and—once she’d stepped free of the drenched scrap of fabric—bringing his hand between her legs. “Fuck, Sammy, you’re so wet.”

The words came out as a groan as he let his fingers play through her swollen folds, teasing in and out of her opening, first one finger and then two. Then, after instructing her to spread her legs wider, three fingers. Three of Calen’s thick fingers stuffing into her, in and out, in and out, until her pussy felt bruised by the burden of withheld release. But she would not allow herself to come, not until Calen allowed it. Sam instinctively knew she wouldn’t find any real pleasure from a stolen release, that only pleasure commanded by Calen, pleasure that pleased her Master would fulfill the bone deep ache in her body and soul.

Sam! What are thinking, listen to yourself. Listen…

But the voice of reason was a weak, pitiful thing indeed when compared to the feel of Calen’s lips parting around her bottom flesh, taking her ass into the warm heat of his mouth and biting down. His teeth sunk in, deeper and deeper, until there was pain, pain that highlighted the pleasure he was giving her between her legs like neon behind the letters of a marquee.


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