She loved their special time after leaving the dungeon-her men bathed, pampered, and cherished her. They seemed relaxed, their focus entirely on making her feel loved. Angel tried to ignore the small flutter in her stomach telling her all was not right in their world. Master embodied absolute control, but even in the reaches of subspace she saw the kiss. It was more a touch of Master's lips, but it crossed the invisible line Sir marked in the sand.Sir washed her hair, massaging his fingertips into her scalp, while Master's wet hands smoothed across the lines on her flesh created by the rope. Master's touch held a mystical quality.She couldn't help the uncertainty she felt due to the kiss, and her mind drifted to Hooriya, the other her, the woman she once was. Hooriya died to escape an honor killing by her family. But the frighteningly real memories of torture and death remained deep within the reaches of Angel's mind. Master and Sir rescued her from that world. They didn't think he

She woke up with Sir's body wrapped around hers. Settling further into his warmth, she tried to believe everything would be okay."He's gone but he'll return to us," he whispered with conviction."I'm not sure what to do." Her hand rested on his arm as his laugh rumbled from his chest and sent shivers clear to her toes. It was his teasing laugh that often meant trouble."We're going for a jog, and then eating breakfast."Angel squeezed the taut muscle beneath her fingers and gave a low groan at the thought of Sir's kind of "jogging." The sound earned a solid slap to her thigh. "Ow." She rubbed the offended skin and turned her head toward him, smiling through wet lashes.He kissed her nose. "When he's not around, you're a brat."Her hand traveled to his groin, seeking an alternative to outdoor exercise by continuing her bratty behavior.He grunted and stopped her playful pursuit. "You're earning punishments and you haven't even gotten out of bed this morning," he teased. "Punis

She didn't care for the club. It wasn't just Club El Diablo, it was any BDSM club. It went against her upbringing, which was actually funny. Angel's family would have her blood on their hands if they knew she lived. It would be an honor killing to avenge her rape and torture at the hands of the men who, through no fault of her own, defiled her. The wives of her dead husband orchestrated her sale into human slave trafficking after his passing. Her biological family would feel sadness over her death, but do their duty. Their attitude would change if they knew she willingly gave her body to two men. It wouldn't matter that she loved them both. Her death under those conditions wouldn't be quick.Looking around the club, she knew she shouldn't carry the burdens of a religion she forsook, but seeing the scantily clad or naked men and women made her cringe.Sir granted two favors. She wore a long, gauzy dress minus underclothes and wore Master's collar with leash grasped within Sir's strong

Thoughts of Angel and Zachery encroached at odd times-a smell, the turn of a jaw, even the flow of a burqa. Monroe, the king of control, had trouble compartmentalizing their memories, but knew if he didn't focus on his adversary it created incredible danger for those he loved.One of Monroe's first missions introduced him to Uday Hamid Hussein. Their paths crossed many times through the years. Monroe always knew the man needed to die. Uday, especially harsh on women, singlehandedly killed more innocents with torture, starvation, and beheading than most terrorist groups. A few weeks before, during a compound raid to capture Uday, foreign operatives uncovered documents detailing Monroe's civilian life. The accurate files had pictures and maps of Monroe's home residence. After the raid failed, the U.S. government notified him immediately. Monroe agreed to this assignment to draw the cold-blooded killer out where Monroe could finally end his worthless life.Dressed in a black t-shirt wit

From the moment Stephens announced the stranger waiting to speak with them, she knew. When Master had left, she dreaded each minute he'd be away. Until these past few years, her entire life had been filled with the deep wrenching sorrow of losing the people she loved.Now, she felt so very cold and it centered from deep within. She barely noticed Sir's arms wrapped around her. Occasionally, he murmured words she could make no sense of.She let her mind float... the garden needed tending. Willow's baby was due any day and she needed to order a gift. She'd been struggling to play the eighth Sonata by Prokofiev. Master would be proud if she achieved the difficult piece.Her mind jumped away from the thought.Marguerite promised to teach her how to make zucchini bread. Stephens said he'd show her how to change the oil in the cars. Not because she'd ever need to change oil, but because she wanted to know how to do simple things that others took for granted."Zachery, sir... I've made lunch.