Countdown

My first book with Amber Quill is due out on June 4th--just 7 more days! The Claiming is the story of Kassinda Marjoni, an Interstellar Marshal, who has her hands full with her prisoner, Rhys Valorian, an exiled prince from the planet Nosfer. Rhys, her former lover--the man she must turn over to the authorities in order to secure her brother's freedom.


Here's an excerpt (warning: adult content and language):

When she finally stilled, he put one arm around her waist and drew her closer until her curvy body was flush with his. The one-piece flight suit she wore hugged her breasts and hips. Even with her anger, her nipples were hard points against his chest, the scent of her arousal heavy in his nostrils.

She might be angry that the tables had turned, but she was aroused, too. He’d stayed alive as long as he had by taking advantage of every opportunity when it came his way. He wasn’t above to using their situation to remind her of their mutual attraction.

Attraction. What a miniscule word to describe what he felt, the way his cock was instantly hard at first sight or smell of her, the way his canines elongated until all he could think about was impaling her with cock and fangs.

There was something different about her, something so untainted and refreshing it grabbed him deep in the gut and wouldn’t let go. Even with her plan to turn him over to the ruler of Tima Prime for a trial based on charges she knew were trumped up, he couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t let her go.

Not this time.

“Release me.” Her voice was as determined as the resolve he saw in her dark eyes.

“Uh-uh, ahya. I like my current state of health too much to do something as stupid as that.” He bent his head toward her lips and she jerked back. With a growl, he walked forward until he could pin her against the wall of the cockpit. Then he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with all the loneliness and lust he’d felt since she’d broken things off five years earlier.

He nipped and probed at her mouth until he felt her relax. Sliding her looped wrists over his head, he kept one hand behind her back, holding her soft body close to his. The other hand skated lightly over her jaw, down her neck to one full breast. When he cupped the warm, heavy weight of it in his palm, she moaned.

He shifted his stance so he could press his hard cock into the V of her thighs. Quick as a striking snake, she brought the hard manacles down on top of his head. When he stepped back, his hold on her loosening more in surprise than from any real injury, she brought her knee up. Hard.

Rhys grunted and bent over, one hand curled protectively over his throbbing balls. She turned to run and he caught her by one booted ankle. She fell to the floor with a soft cry, rolling to her back as he came over her.

He pulled her arms up and anchored her wrists above her head with one hand. His other hand fished through her jacket pocket until he found the restraint control. He pulled it out and pressed the button to activate the magnetic field of the cuffs. There was a slight buzzing sound, then the manacles thumped onto the metal plating of the deck.

“Rhys! Let me go.” She wiggled beneath him, muttering under her breath, dark brown eyes glaring at him. He caught his breath as his cock lengthened and hardened even more.

Her eyes widened and she went still like a small animal sensing a much larger predator.

She wouldn’t be far off in that assessment. His people were a very sensual race, but their roots were barbaric and some of the old ways remained.

He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, dragging her scent deep into his lungs. When her pink tongue darted out and wet her lips, his eyes tracked the movement. Her tongue disappeared into her mouth and he set his lips to hers, slipping between her soft lips to trace a lazy pattern around her tongue.

The heavy perfume of her arousal permeated the air. He knew if he were to dip his fingers between her soft folds he’d find her sweet cunt covered with slick, thick cream. Rhys moved his hand to the opening of her suit and he started to slowly slide down the tab.

A sudden banging on the outer hull jerked him to a stop. “I think we’ve got company,” he muttered, demagnetizing the cuffs and getting to his feet. He hauled her up at the same time. “We’ll have to get back to this later.”

She gasped and yanked away from him. “Ohhh,” she fumed. “There is no later. Let me go, Rhys. This isn’t funny.” Her cocoa-colored eyes snapped fire at him, a mixture of anger and frustrated passion.

“It’s not meant to be funny. It’s meant to keep you from turning me over to a death squad, ahya.” With one hand wrapped around her upper arm, he pulled her along behind him as he walked toward the hatch.

“Stop calling me ‘purple spiny one’,” she snarled, jerking against his hold. “Besides, I’m taking you back for trial, not execution.”

“Semantics, Kass. You know as well as I do that the Timan High Council is collaborating with the madman who laid claim to my father’s throne.” Rhys stopped at the outer door and looked down at her. “We can talk about that later. For right now, remember where we are.”

Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

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Look for The Claiming at Amber Quill on June 4th!