Felicity Brandon is here to present the last part of her trilogy, The Dark Necessities. If you’ve loved Book 1 and 2 you must be dying to read Entwined. The wait is finally over. (You can check out Taken, Book 1 and Tamed, Book 2 if you’re new to the series).
#DarkRomance #KidnapThriller #Alphamale
Can a monster ever find redemption?
Free from her captor, author Molly Clary finds herself back at home, but she’s just as lost as ever. In the isolation of her new-found freedom, Molly makes a startling revelation; she can no longer function without Connor Reilly. She can’t write without him; she can’t live without him.
The admission leads Molly into the most intense and dangerous chapter of her twisted love affair yet, and by reaching out to Connor again, she must decide if she can really leave her old life behind to venture into the dark and mysterious confines of the organization known only as The Syndicate.
For a couple whose love is built on lust, and fear and submission, there should be no happy ending. But as Molly helps her kidnapper lay his ghosts to rest, the question beckons, can they forge their own brand of happiness regardless? Can Connor finally be delivered into a consensual union with his kitten, and will it be enough to satisfy both of their dark needs?
Buy the captivating conclusion to The Dark Necessities trilogy, and devour this tantalizing finale.
She sighed, a sound he heard despite the wind whipping around them. “This is so fucked up,” she explained,” but I didn’t know what else to do, I…”
Her voice trailed off into silence, and she blinked away the tears which were clearly threatening to fall. Connor’s feet moved before his brain even registered the action, his stride closing the distance between them in just a couple of paces. Molly’s eyes widened at his sudden proximity, her face lifting to look upon him in some sort of dumb-stuck awe. He couldn’t tell if it was terror or yearning which he saw in her eyes, but it didn’t matter. To hell with the mantra; Molly was upset, and that meant he wanted to protect her. Deep down Connor was certain of one thing. She had never stopped being his, and in his normal messed up way, that meant only he was allowed to cause her pain. If she was upset, he wanted to calm her, and comfort her. He wanted to make it better.
“Hey,” he said, towering over her small frame. “Hey, it’s okay.”
Connor wanted to wrap her up in a hard embrace, to hold her close to his body and smell the sweet scent of her hair in his nostrils. He swallowed down that urge, opening his arms out to her in as non-threatening a gesture as he could muster. There was a moment when nothing more happened. Molly cried openly, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. Her eyes darted from his open arms to the sea, and back to the car she had parked beside his Mercedes. Connor could tell it was quite a predicament for her. Evidently, she wanted to go to him, but she was understandably scared. The last time she had trusted him, she’d wound up gagged and drugged.
Slowly, she edged closer to Connor’s body. He saw her blow out a huge breath as she neared, gazing up into his face as she finally pressed herself against him.
It was a moment of epiphany.
Molly had chosen to come to him, looking for comfort from the one man who’d taken and tormented her. It was like some sort of miracle, and Connor knew he was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet as he felt her body heat next to him. His arms were on her at once, enveloping her in his warmth in a matter of seconds. His right hand rose to her hair, cradling her head as she sunk down against his chest.
Molly dissolved into sobs, her body trembling with the weight of whatever emotion she released. For his part, Connor said nothing. He merely stood there, holding her body on the wind-swept beach. In a time not so long ago, he had called himself a devil. A monster who preyed on innocent little lambs like Molly, but just look at him now. Connor was the greatest example of disparity he knew. He proved that karma didn’t exist. He’d been a sick fuck his whole life, taking what he wanted under the protection of his powerful peers, and caring nothing for the consequences. He should be damned, and he thought he had been, but he’d been wrong. The greatest penance he could ever have received was to never have seen Molly again. To have never caught sight of her mischievous smile, or run the soft strands of her hair through his fingers. And yet, here was she, her small arms clinging to him as she cried her heart out. There was no way he deserved to be this blessed. No way.
“What do you want then?”
He’d barely ever asked her before, but now her desire seemed to matter more than anything else. It was more important to him than The Syndicate, or even his fucking liberty. It was critical to the next breath he was going to take.
She gazed at him with wide, watery eyes. “This is so fucked up,” she started, lowering her face at the admission.
“Hey,” he whispered. “I’ve got a PhD in fucked up; do you really think anything you can say will make things worse?”
The hand at her nape made small circles, applying just enough pressure to draw her body toward him.
“I think I want you,” she conceded in a long rush of breath. “I don’t know if it’s just the writing, or this thing between us, or what, but I think I’m bound to you, Connor.”
Bound to him? Fuck, that sounded wonderful, and his cock sprung to life at the prospect.
“What a delightful analogy,” he smirked, raising his left brow at her.
Molly smiled in response, although she was practically panting as his thumb stroked the side of her nape.
“So, you missed me?” he chuckled, pressing his body past the gear shift as he closed the distance between them.
“More than I should,” she agreed, watching his approach with expectant eyes.
Connor saw her pupils dilate as his face neared, and he sympathized. He felt it, too, the bond between them was stronger than anything he’d ever known.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he told her in a low sensual growl. “If you don’t want this, then tell me now. I’m not good at asking for permission, kitten. This might be all that you get.”
Molly was smiling as his words resonated, her head tipping as she took them in. “Let me answer you then.”
He’d barely registered her words when she came for him. Connor had never seen such speed in his pet before, but she was on him before he could take another breath. Crossing the small divide between them, she pounced, pressing her body against his, and knocking him backwards as her lips took what they wanted. Connor had to admit it, he never saw this coming, but as soon as their mouths collided, he reciprocated, kissing her back as eagerly as his new position would allow. Molly’s attack had caught him off guard, and he’d slumped back into the passenger seat, now pinioned by his passionate little pet. Of course, he could have fought her off. He’d have had her flat against the driver’s seat with ease if he’d wanted to, but the truth was he didn’t want to. This was a side of Molly he had never seen.
Because he’d never allowed it.
But he had to concede, the wild side of his kitten was making him hard.
Molly drew back from him, her arms either side of his chest propping her up. Her face was flushed with emotion, her eyes wild with fire. It was like she could barely believe what had just happened, what she’d just done.
“Is that a yes to the kiss, kitten?” he laughed as he questioned her, loving her the blush in her cheeks grew darker.
Connor swatted her again, pausing to admire the way the impact passed over her cheeks. “Do you need this spanking, kitten?” he demanded, noticing his voice had fallen to little more than a growl.
He didn’t know why he asked, having already determined for himself that the answer was yes, but somehow, there was always something so bloody satisfying about hearing it from Molly’s lips.
“Yes, Master,” she breathed as he landed a fourth strike, followed by another three in fast succession. “Yes, I need it.”
“Yes. You. Do.” Connor agreed, accentuating each word with a new swat. “Just think about how many months you’ve gone without my discipline.”
Connor landed another hard spank, conscious of his cock throbbing gloriously at the groan that left his kitten’s lips. “How many spankings have you needed?” he asked her. “How many have you missed?”
“Too many, Master,” she panted as he continued, spanking her gorgeous backside time and time again as if to reinforce the point.
“Yes, too many,” he agreed. “I know you, kitten, and naughty little pets like you need regular spankings to keep them in their place.”
He paused, watching as her hips rose of their own accord. It was as though Molly’s body was actually looking for his palm. “Don’t they?” he demanded.
“Yes!” She was almost screeching now, though Connor didn’t think he’d been very hard on her so far. Allowing his gaze to drink in the length of her body, he concluded with a wry smile that his pet’s desperation was more to do with her burgeoning arousal, than her pain threshold. He knew from experience that she was well-equipped to deal with a lot of pain. “Yes, Master. They do. I do!”
“Yes,” he agreed again, and as he spoke, Connor shifted his palm and aimed his next strike directly at her pussy.
Molly yelped at the new strike, but the sound morphed quickly into something of a moan.
“You like that, kitten,” he mused mockingly. “Don’t you?”
Her wide-kneed stance made it easy to access her wet seam, and even the swat he’d just delivered hadn’t made her legs close.
“Yes, Master,” she admitted, her voice a strangled sound which conveyed her very obvious misery on the subject.
“Tell me, then,” he commanded as he smacked the area again. “Tell your Master what you like, you naughty little pet.”
Molly moaned at the instruction, her hips grinding against his legs as he gave the order. Her body language was more than clear; Molly wanted more. Much, much more.
“I like it when you spank my pussy, Master,” she panted, pushing her face into the fabric of the cushion as she made the concession.
Connor smiled to himself. That wasn’t a bad first effort, but she’d have to do much better than that if she wanted her pleasure.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he told her without looking up from the buttons.
Molly screwed the bedding up in her fists. “Don’t do this!” she implored him for what must be the twentieth time that day. “Please, Master. I don’t like it. I don’t like this, at all.”
“Kitten,” he cooed, pacing toward the bed and falling to his knees beside her. “You’re the reason I’m doing this. You’re the reason I need to do it.”
Molly blinked away the tears which were threatening to fall. “No,” she gasped, as she reached for his shoulder. “If that’s true, then I’m sorry, but I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go…”
She hated how desperate she sounded, but there it was; every word was true. All of her emotions were laid out there. Her heart exposed and vulnerable, just as it had been since the day she’d started to fall for the man who’d captured her.
Connor’s expression melted a little at her display of emotion, but his determined eyes told her the real story. He was going to do it. He was going, and he was going to do whatever this thing was he’d arranged with Malone, and as per fucking usual, there wasn’t a thing Molly could do to change it. Inside her, her heart began to break.
“Don’t upset yourself, pet,” he purred as he stroked the side of her face lovingly. “I want you to stay here and rest, because when this is over, I’m going to need you like I’ve never needed anyone before.”
The knot of tension in her belly tightened at his words. If Connor was going to need her so badly, then her intuition must be spot on, and whatever this was must be absolutely freaking awful.
“I’m worried,” she conceded in a flurry. “I have a bad feeling about this, Master.”
He offered her a small smile. “Honestly,” he admitted, “I have a pretty bad feeling, too, but it will be okay. I have Dalton with me. He’ll look after me.”
She was sobbing as he pulled her in for one last embrace, apparently trying to soothe her with hot, torrid kisses.
“Promise me you’ll stay here like a good, little kitten,” he whispered. “I don’t want to have to lock you in anymore. I think we’ve moved past that point now, don’t you?”
Molly nodded. She didn’t want to be locked in either, but she’d accept those terms from now on if it meant he was going to stay.
“Lock the door behind me,” he warned her. “And stay put!”
Connor’s hand reached for her chin, forcing it up to meet the intensity of his gaze. “Promise me, kitten. Promise me you’ll stay put.”
“Let’s go, Connor!” Dalton’s voice yelled from just beyond the door, making Molly jump instinctively.
“Promise me,” Connor demanded, resting his forehead against her face.
Molly raised her head to meet the strength of his gaze, and she knew he meant it. She was going to have to promise him. That compelling look in his eyes was never going to have it any other way. “Okay,” she sobbed quietly. “I promise, Master.”
But even as the words slipped from her lips, Molly knew she didn’t mean them. Whatever was going to happen to him, there was no way she was just going to lie here and wait.
No fucking way.
Felicity Brandon is a top 100 Amazon bestselling author.
She loves the darker side of romance, and writes sexy, suspenseful stories, with strong themes of bondage and submission.
You’ll find her either at her laptop, at the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music.
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