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Captured Rapture

Spaceport Mercy, Book Three

Galactic Union Enforcer Raina Mynn never knew what hit her. One minute she’s busting bad guys across the galaxy with the help of her scary and scarily reliable partner Fraz, the next she’s being attacked by an insane man who thinks he’s part of an extinct species. Attacked in the best way, mind you. Attacked by his hands and mouth and more southerly body parts.

Torr is as fascinating as he is infuriating. He won’t stop until Raina is mated…sated…Captured. But her gorgeous hunk of nutjob isn’t what he appears to be. And much to her surprise—neither is Raina.

Excerpt

I never knew what hit me. One moment I’m skimming over the surface of Mercy’s beta moon, its dull red ground a blurred carpet below me, its dry, cold air filling my lungs…

The next I’m flat on my back, wrists pinned to the powdery grit, legs spread, with a man roughly six-foot-seven pressing down on me. A cock that felt like a Tallaxion viper—y’know the really big, thick ones they find in the Furthest Jungles—rammed at the junction of my thighs, shoving at the lips of my sex with a brutal force that should have pissed me off but instead made my pulse leap and my mouth turn dry.

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I stared up at whoever the fuck held me down, glaring into eyes the color of an angry Earth sky. A lone female on a jet cycle probably looked like an easy target, but for fuck’s sake, I wore the uniform of a Galactic Union Enforcer. What type of idiot, no matter how desperate to claim a woman, jumped a cop? Especially one flying across a moon at almost twice the safe propulsion speed with an Aglaian disruptor on her right hip?

“This kind,” the hulking man who felt like granite murmured, jerking my wrists above my head. He locked them in one large fist and yanked my disruptor from its thigh harness before I could blink.

Or digest the fact he’d answered a question I hadn’t asked aloud.

His mouth crashed down on mine, claiming my lips as his property. I could feel the possession in the fierce and frightening way his tongue invaded my mouth, plunging and plundering. Merciless and savage. Taking what I wasn’t giving. Well, what I was trying not to give.

Truth be known, I was getting aroused. More than aroused. If the man had reached between my spread, kicking legs right at that point, any point actually—like the point when his teeth nipped my bottom lip and sent shards of wicked pain into my center—he would have found the crotch of my uniform damp with musky pleasure.

I’d been kissed many times by Raavelian alpha slaves, by Slessorian Master Pleasurers, but none kissed the way this…this…

Gods. This male kissed.

His mouth fucked mine. There was simply no other way to explain it. His mouth did to my mouth what a cock should do to a cunt. It delved deep, took everything and returned it all back ten-fold. His tongue lashed at the inside of my mouth, whipped at the edges of my teeth, mated with a need so untamed I felt the building pressure low in the pit of my stomach. Gods, I was going to come. From a kiss. A kiss.

My attacker—for what else could I call him?—dragged his lips from mine and scored a scalding line along my clenched jaw to my ear. “From my kiss,” he whispered, as if he’d once again heard my unspoken thoughts, before biting down on my earlobe. Ribbons of wet sensations rippled down my neck, across my chest to my belly. My nipples pinched hard, pushing against the restrictive confines of my uniform, and I whimpered.

Who are you?

The thought hadn’t finished forming in my mind when he pulled away slightly, just enough to feel the cool kiss of the moon’s dry air on my cheeks. His free hand, the one that had sent my favorite disruptor flying who-knows-where, closed tightly over my breast, and I gasped, reveling in the absolute rapture that spiraled through me from the brutal possession.

“I’m the one you’ve always dreamed of.” His fingers pressed into the swell of my breast and I whimpered again. “The one you’ve always feared.”

His cryptic words caressed my senses, as soft as he was hard. His turgid length ground against my sex, trapped beneath a layer of thick, coarse leather but still capable of making my clit feel like it was on fire.

I had to get away.

No, you don’t.

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