Take Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Possession Boxed Set
Publication date: February 3rd 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance
Surrender to desire with 12 books by the hottest names in dark romance, including bestselling authors Pepper Winters, Anna Zaires, and Lynda Chance.
CD Reiss – Spin
Jenika Snow – A Beautiful Prison
Pepper Winters – Destroyed
Skye Warren – Trust in Me
Kendall Ryan – Unravel Me
Anna Zaires & Dima Zales – Twist Me
Shay Savage – Otherwise Alone & Otherwise Occupied
Amber Lin & Shari Slade – Three Nights with a Rock Star
Pam Godwin – Deliver
Lynda Chance – Marco’s Redemption
Gemma James – Torrent
These e-books would cost over $40 if purchased separately. This set will only be 99 cents until release, so pre-order your copy now!
Purchase: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks
It was the best kiss I’d ever received, but also the worst. It sparked lust and need in every inch of me. My lips wanted more, my tongue wanted savagery. My skin wanted to bruise because he needed to touch me so badly.
All my thoughts disappeared as I nipped at his bottom lip. He flinched, but a second later he copied, his sharp canines piercing my oversensitive flesh.
I couldn’t take it.
My hands flew up and gripped his shirt. Yanking him toward me, fireworks whizzed in my fingertips; my heart galloped toward exploding with lust. I’d never been so drunk on someone before.
Then I landed flat on my back.
The crack of my skull jangled my teeth. The thick carpet did little to cushion me. My eyes flared wide and I grunted in pain. Fear, hot and terrible, swamped my lust in a dampening wave.
“Top rule. Unbreakable rule. Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me.” Fox kneeled on one knee beside my head, breathing hard. His hand noosed my throat, pressing my spine into the carpet. His eyes were cold and lifeless, looking like a hunter intent on blood. –HAZEL
Excerpt from Trust in Me by Skye Warren
Tyler sighed, resigned. “Okay. Come on.”
And really, isn’t that just what every girl wants to hear from a guy agreeing to fuck her? But I wasn’t like every girl. This was a job, that was all.
He led me to the bed and pulled me down with him. But I didn’t want him, not like this. I didn’t want him to have sex with me, not if he didn’t want me. I only remained here to protect those girls from forced sex, from rape. I couldn’t do the same thing to Tyler, not even to spare myself pain.
“Wait,” I said. “You don’t have to do this. Please don’t.”
“I have to,” he said, his teeth gritted.
This was all wrong. “You don’t want this,” I whispered.
He pulled my hand to his jeans where I felt his hardness pushing against the zipper. “Does this feel like I don’t want it?”
I already knew the body had nothing to do with the mind. “No,” I said. “I can tell you don’t. It doesn’t matter about me.”
He pushed me onto my back and loomed over me. “This is happening. Are you going to fight me?”
I shook my head. No, I wouldn’t--couldn’t—fight Tyler, not ever. No matter how I pledged my allegiance to Carlos, I couldn’t help but fight and resist every time he hurt me. With Tyler, it hurt just to be near him, but I’d endure it, if only to pretend a few minutes more.
He kissed me again, and it was almost real. Like a real kiss between two people having sex, as if I knew what that felt like. Both of us were doing this for business or to avoid pain or whatever reason, but none having to do with passion or pleasure. Still, I felt a long-buried stirring of passion. And, too, I felt pleasure as his lips molded over mine and his body lowered.
The weight of him, the heat of him, was delicious. Somehow I felt safe with him, which was a stupid error to make after working so hard and so long to be careful. He was working with Carlos—I couldn’t forget that. If Carlos ever found out I was double-crossing him, he wouldn’t kill me. He would keep me alive and make me wish I were dead.
Tyler’s hands found my breasts and easily slipped under the small halter top. He looked down at my breast in his hand. I knew I had beautiful breasts. Not because they looked beautiful to me—I hated the sight of them—but because I’d been told so. From very young, I’d been told how pretty they were—large, despite my lanky body, and pale with dark, hardened tips.
He groaned, just staring. “So beautiful.”
I hated that he said that, that he noticed what all the other men had noticed, that he was like them after all. At the same time, I almost preened. At least I had pleased him in some way. One of these days my contradictions would tear me apart.
His fingertip, blunt and rough, traced from the top of the slope to the tip.
“Why are you doing this?” he muttered, and it didn’t sound like he was talking to me but to himself.
Why was he doing this? Why did he need to get mixed up with Carlos? It would only end badly for Tyler. I had seen enough of Carlos’s business partners disappear to know that. God, but I didn’t want to think that Tyler would even want to be involved. Carlos had lots of different businesses, but they were all bad—drugs, guns. And my personal crusade, my curse, human trafficking. Which was Tyler involved in?
“You shouldn’t be here,” slipped out on a moan.
“I know,” he said, still mesmerized by my hated breasts.
“It isn’t right.” Why couldn’t he see? I wanted him to be good, but if he couldn’t do that, then at least I wanted him to be safe.
“I can’t stop,” he said.
Excerpt from Deliver by Pam Godwin
He stalked toward her, mirroring the tilt of her head, knees and shoulders loose, and his gaze
holding her prisoner. A breath away, he paused, soaking in the subtleties of her tipped-up chin,
parting lips, and glossy but resolute eyes.
With the next breath, he launched, hands on her jaw, fingers spread around the back of her
His elbows dropped, shoulders raised, and he yanked her to him, lifting her on tiptoes, guiding
her mouth, taking it. His grip twisted through her hair as he drew in her upper lip and shoved her
against the fridge, following her with the weight of his body.
The kiss went fucking wild, their lips mashing in a frantic battle. His tongue plunged her mouth,
attacking, thrusting in and out, possessing her movements, owning her. Breath for breath, lick
after lick, he ate at her mouth, tasting, devouring.
He dropped his hands to her breasts, squeezing ruthlessly as he rolled his cock against her
His tongue tingled, his skin burned, and his head swam. God, she was a drug, and he was so
She gripped his biceps, bit at his lips, and threw her arms over his shoulders, her fingers
scratching the fuck out his back. He shuddered, loving it, but he was in control.
Reaching back, he grabbed her wrists and slammed them above her head. Their bodies ground
together, his forearms pressing hers to the fridge, their tongues dancing and clashing. Chest-to-
chest, hips fused together, he flexed his ass, dry humping her like a horny teenager.
Jesus, fuck, he didn’t care. He wanted her.
He leaned back to study her face and found strong smoldering eyes, sharp breaths, and swollen
wet lips. Whatever she saw in his expression made her mouth chase his and her fingers curl
around his hands. They kissed endlessly, fueling the fire and pushing his control long past the
point of discomfort before pulling back and starting all over again.
When he broke the kiss with a hand on her jaw, they panted as one, mouths open and so close
their bottom lips brushed. She peered at him through lowered lashes, and he stared back in
awe. What trembled between them wasn’t an if? Or even a how hard? Those were foregone.
The question they shared was simple.
Excerpt from Three Nights with a Rock Star by Amber Lin and Shari Slade
Hailey forced herself to stand still for his leisurely perusal. Even when he stood and stalked toward her, she managed to hold on to her dignity—whatever dregs she had left after donning these clothes and almost falling on her face. But his smile hit her like a blast of heat, blinding her, scalding her. He looked far too pleased with himself, like a man about to get everything he wanted. And her shaky insides warned she might just give it to him.
“What do you mean?” she asked, proud her voice didn’t quaver too much.
“You want to stay here while we’re in Chicago,” he said. “To stay here for three days, to blend in so that no one questions why you’re here. To ask questions, poke around.”
Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. So why did her nod feel like surrender? As if she’d agreed to his terms before she even knew them. But then maybe she did know what his terms would be. His eyes spoke the words his lips had yet to say. There were volumes of gold-flecked pages filled with all that sensual knowledge. They promised delight and, even better, a hard bite to the exchange. Where the men she had been with were a fresh spring breeze, he stood before her like the calm before the storm, his eyes darkening clouds.
“Can you…” She licked her lips. His gaze tracked the movement, making her feel hunted. “Can you help me?”
His expression softened. Just the slightest degree, but it was enough to slow the hammering of her heart. This was the same kind man she’d met in the lobby. Desire had given him a rough edge, turning his loping gait into a prowl, making his nostrils flare—scenting her. But he was still kind inside.
When he didn’t answer, she searched for whatever strength she might have found. You want… he’d said, listing her terms. Only his terms were left to be stated. A negotiation, then. But even as she thought the words, an image flashed through her mind, a gazelle caught from behind, the vicious beauty of her captor feasting in a National Geographic special.
“What do you want?” she whispered, and somehow the wall was at her back. He was at her front…crowding her…embracing her?
“You,” he snarled. “Under me. Over me. On your knees in front of me. I get full artistic license to your body for three days.”
His words pounded her like hail, leaving dents and then pooling in the hollows left behind. They drowned out the rest of the world and shook the floor. She began to shake too—but her gaze remained locked with his. The shaking was on the inside, fear and a strange longing warring inside her, a battle to the death. She stood frozen, caught in his sights and too terrified to run. Too curious to walk away.
He stepped back, sending a wash of crisp hotel air over her body. She sucked in a breath and immediately missed the earthy scent of him.
“And you,” he continued conversationally, “will have total access to play Nancy Drew in the hotel. That is, whenever I’m not using you.”
Her body lit up when he said the word using. It imploded on you, spoken with such self-assured possession. What was wrong with her that she wanted to be used? Maybe because she wanted to be free to enjoy sex, to really explore it, for the first time in her tame little life. Maybe because he would be the one using her, and he seemed like he would know just what to do with her.
This was a bad idea. For reasons that weren’t quite coming to her at the moment. But she knew it was bad. If she’d said it once, she’d said it a thousand times to her preschoolers: don’t make decisions when you’re angry. Though she wasn’t angry. She was concerned. And frustrated. And…
God, Chloe, why? After I worked so freaking hard so you could start college, why couldn’t you be more careful?
Okay, she might be angry.
She swallowed. So maybe this weekend could be for her too. She would find the baby’s father, but she’d also find something for herself.
With a deep breath, she struggled for levity. A lopsided tilt of her lips was all she could manage. “Where do I sign?” she joked.
His grin widened, revealing an even row of white teeth. The Cheshire cat had just such a smile. “I’m so glad you asked. I have blank copies of my contract in the side table. Right next to the lube.”
Excerpt from Twist Me by Anna Zaires
It’s evening now. With every minute that passes, I’m starting to get more and more anxious at the thought of seeing my captor again.
The novel that I’ve been reading can no longer hold my interest. I put it down and walk in circles around the room.
I am dressed in the clothes Beth had given me earlier. It’s not what I would’ve chosen to wear, but it’s better than a bathrobe. A sexy pair of white lacy panties and a matching bra for underwear. A pretty blue sundress that buttons in the front. Everything fits me suspiciously well. Has he been stalking me for a while? Learning everything about me, including my clothing size?
The thought makes me sick.
I am trying not to think about what’s to come, but it’s impossible. I don’t know why I’m so sure he’ll come to me tonight. It’s possible he has an entire harem of women stashed away on this island, and he visits each one only once a week, like sultans used to do.
Yet somehow I know he’ll be here soon. Last night had simply whetted his appetite. I know he’s not done with me, not by a long shot.
Finally, the door opens.
He walks in like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.
I am again struck by his masculine beauty. He could’ve been a model or a movie star, with a face like his. If there was any fairness in the world, he would’ve been short or had some other imperfection to offset that face.
But he doesn’t. His body is tall and muscular, perfectly proportioned. I remember what it feels like to have him inside me, and I feel an unwelcome jolt of arousal.
He’s again wearing jeans and a T-shirt. A grey one this time. He seems to favor simple clothing, and he’s smart to do so. His looks don’t need any enhancement.
He smiles at me. It’s his fallen angel smile—dark and seductive at the same time. “Hello, Nora.”
I don’t know what to say to him, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Here in the room? Or on the island?”
“Beth will show you around tomorrow, take you swimming, if you’d like,” he says, approaching me. “You won’t be locked in, unless you do something foolish.”
“Such as?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest as he stops next to me and lifts his hand to stroke my hair.
“Trying to harm Beth or yourself.” His voice is soft, his gaze hypnotic as he looks down on me. The way he’s touching my hair is oddly relaxing.
I blink, trying to break his spell. “And what about on the island? How long will you keep me here?”
His hand caresses my face now, curves around my cheek. I catch myself leaning into his touch, like a cat getting petted, and I immediately stiffen.
His lips curve into a knowing smile. The bastard knows the effect he has on me. “A long time, I hope,” he says.
For some reason, I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t have bothered bringing me all the way here if he just wanted to fuck me a few times. I’m terrified, but I’m not surprised.
I gather my courage and ask the next logical question. “Why did you kidnap me?”
The smile leaves his face. He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with an inscrutable blue gaze.
I begin to shake. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No, Nora, I won’t kill you.”
His denial reassures me, although he could obviously be lying. “Are you going to sell me?” I can barely get the words out. “Like to be a prostitute or something?”
“No,” he says softly. “Never. You’re mine and mine alone.”
I feel a tiny bit calmer, but there is one more thing I have to know. “Are you going to hurt me?”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer again. Something dark briefly flashes in his eyes. “Probably,” he says quietly.
And then he leans down and kisses me, his warm lips soft and gentle on mine.
For a second, I stand there frozen, unresponsive. I believe him. I know he’s telling the truth when he says he’ll hurt me. There’s something in him that scares me—that has scared me from the very beginning.
He’s nothing like the boys I’ve gone on dates with. He’s capable of anything.
And I’m completely at his mercy.
I think about trying to fight him again. That would be the normal thing to do in my situation. The brave thing to do.
And yet I don’t do it.
I can feel the darkness inside him. There’s something wrong with him. His outer beauty hides something monstrous underneath.
I don’t want to unleash that darkness. I don’t know what will happen if I do.
So I stand still in his embrace and let him kiss me. And when he picks me up again and takes me to bed, I don’t try to resist in any way.
Instead, I close my eyes and give in to the sensations.