Wild, Wicked & Wanton Read online

  Passion Unbound Wild, Wicked & Wanton

  (Passion Unbound, Books 1,2 and 3)

  Tawny Taylor

  Copyright ©2011 Tawny Taylor

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience.

  And thus it was from the beginning of time. Two knights. One bride. They whispered their story to The Chosen, a human endowed with the gift of Hearing… The Chosen wrote the story and released it into the human world.

  The bait was set. The spell was cast. And then they waited…

  -- from the Ierd Kimeno, the sacred text of the Twelfth Knight Brotherhood

  * * *

  Passion Unbound 1: Wild Knights

  Tawny Taylor

  Copyright ©2011 Tawny Taylor

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  Bastien’s gaze was smoldering, his thickly muscled body rigid, ready -- to take. To conquer. She shuddered as her second Master, Xander, crowded her from behind, capturing her wrists in one huge fist. He pressed his hulking frame against her back and forced her arms up over her head.

  To be possessed by two powerful, dominant men. It was her most secret fantasy, a dream that was about to become reality…

  Maggie Dunning sighed, tucked a sticky note in her book to keep her page, and dropped the worn, dog-eared paperback into her desk drawer. She’d read Conquered by the Knight at least ten times since she’d bought it a couple months ago, and yet she couldn’t resist coming back to it again and again. The story so profoundly touched her that she missed the characters the minute she closed the book.

  If only she could find a real guy like either of the book’s drool-worthy heroes, Bastien or Xander. She’d dated enough men to know the strong, heroic type was a rare breed, indeed. Most definitely endangered in northeast Michigan.

  But oh how amazing it would be to have such dominating, attentive and caring lovers. Where were they hiding? In Michigan’s upper peninsula, perhaps? Where the landscape was still wild, the climate as unpredictable as the tough men who lived there?

  Hmmmm… maybe she’d head north for her next vacation. If she took a vacation next year.

  Her head a million miles away, or rather a little more than five hundred, she finished up her last bit of typing, addressed some Christmas cards for tomorrow’s mail, filed some paperwork and ran next door to get her boss some dinner -- a Reuben on rye, extra thousand island dressing and a side of onion rings -- death on a plate. Then, another work week finished and another dollar earned, she waved goodbye to the quiet old gentleman with the sparkly eyes.

  “Have a good weekend.”

  A mischievous smile hinting at the troublemaker he’d probably once been, Mr. Holloway returned her wave. Sweet old man. Called himself a life insurance salesman, but he rarely sold much of anything anymore. She knew he just kept her around because he was lonely, and that was fine with her. She loved her job.

  Humming a slightly off-key rendition of “Sleigh Ride,” she headed out of the diminutive building, sandwiched between the deli and an antique shop, and slipped and slid her way to her car parked behind the building. A constant stream of Christmas music kept her company during the short drive home.

  Since her husband’s death, this was the time of day she looked forward to most. The world outside her apartment building was quiet and dark. She sat cozy and warm in her living room, a crocheted afghan spread across her lap while she caught up with her favorite reality show and slowly consumed her nuked Lean Cuisine.

  The need for sustenance addressed, and her daily dose of television administered, it was time to be swept away into the world of her fantasies -- or, more specifically, into Xander and Bastien’s world of erotic domination and submission. Yay! She clapped her hands together and dug into her bag, where she’d stowed her book.

  Sometime later, after enjoying a particularly stimulating passage, where Xander and Bastien both made love to the heroine -- at the same time! -- she lifted her tired, bleary eyes to check the clock. A little after midnight. How the time flew when she was consumed by a story.

  She ran her fingers along the top edge of a page as she reached for her lukewarm glass of Diet Coke, accidentally giving herself a paper cut. “Ow, ow, ow! Darn it!” A single fat, scarlet droplet landed smack dab in the middle of the page she’d just read. She immediately tucked the injured digit into her mouth, skimming the last paragraph she’d read.

  This was what she’d been searching for all her life. Never had she expected to find one lover who knew her so well, let alone two. And not only did they seek to fulfill her physical needs, but her mental and emotional ones as well. They understood her. They cherished her and protected her. Xander and Bastien were her fantasy men come to life…

  “Oh, to be cherished.” She heaved a sad sigh. Since Jack Dunning’s unexpected death, her life had been wonderful. She had peace. Enough money to keep her in Lean Cuisines.

  And she was free.

  Yet she couldn’t help admitting there was something missing -- love. A kind but strong man who adored her and built her up instead of tearing her down. Would she ever meet a guy like that? Or were men like that not only endangered, but gone the way of the dinosaurs?

  “Where are you, Bastien and Xander? Come, find me, won’t you?” she muttered around a mouthful of throbbing finger. Too tired to read any longer, she closed her book and headed to bed.

  Tomorrow, after running a few errands, doing a little Christmas shopping for the niece she never saw, she’d have plenty of time to spend with her two favorite men.

  Maybe it hadn’t always been this way, but life was good. Not perfect, but very, very pleasant.

  * * *

  She felt their presence before she was fully awake. Someone, or rather several someones, were in her bedroom. Broken in. Should’ve forked over the extra hundred dollars a month for the apartment with the security system and intercom.

  What now?

  Playing possum until she could think of what to do, she made a conscious effort to keep her breathing slow and steady -- no easy task, considering she was petrified. Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s, and a mega-dose of adrenaline was pounding through her veins.

  What did these guys want? How many were there?

  She heard at least two sets of footsteps treading softly across the carpet. They were coming closer to her bed. To her.

  Ack!

  This couldn’t be good. Her eyes still closed, she tensed her arms and legs and psyched herself up for what promised to be a harrowing escape. She’d never had to run for her life before. Would she make it? She wasn’t exactly athletic. Nor did she know a lick of self defense, outside of the tried and true kick-’em-in-the-balls routine.

  The footsteps stopped. She guessed there were two intruders, both standing on the same side of the bed. This was both good and bad, since that side also happened to lead to the most direct route out of the room.

  On the count of three. One, two…

  Two and a half…

  Two and three quarters…

  Two and five eights…

  Something brushed the side of her face.

  Three!

  She snapped open her eyes, log-rolled to the far side of the bed, and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. Her head smacked into the corner of her nightstand.

  “Ouch! Dammit!” Twinkling stars obscuring her vision, she staggered to her feet and groped her way down the side of her bed.

  The sound of someone racing toward her, coupled with the slowly clearing image of two enormous males headed her way, inspired her to speed up her progress toward the door. Full speed ahead, she made a desperate dash for freedom.

>   A blow from behind sent her tumbling to the floor but she didn’t let that stop her. Escape. Door. Ohmygod!

  Panic mounting, she scrabbled on hands and knees, her gaze fixed on her target. Unfortunately, she was stopped dead in her tracks when some two hundred plus pounds of lean, hard male landed on top of her, literally flattening her to the floor. Her nose jammed painfully into the carpet, the musty odor giving rise to an irrational vow to have the carpet steam cleaned if she got out of this situation alive. She wheezed, struggling to refill her oxygen-starved lungs with air, and squirmed, the adrenaline now blasting through her body in massive tidal waves, giving her a strength she hadn’t known she possessed.

  She fought like a pissed-off wolverine, yet it wasn’t enough. The man on top of her easily overpowered her. Before she could beg for mercy, she was dragged to her feet and forced to face her captor for the first time.

  Ohhhh…

  A strange and completely inappropriate ripple of desire turned her thoughts from the business of escape to the pleasures she might gain by abandoning a few inhibitions.

  A stunning man. In her bedroom. The possibilities were endless but oh so much fun to imagine.

  Uh… what the heck was wrong with her? She’d just imagined herself getting naked with this stranger! Oh my God.

  Both puzzled and intrigued, she rubbed the tender spot on her head while twisting around to see where the other guy was hiding.

  Gone? There had been two, hadn’t there? She had seen two men. Did she have a closed head injury? Bleeding on the brain? Double vision?

  She grappled for a reasonable explanation for her confused state, her runaway imagination, and the bizarre urges sweeping through her body. Unsteady, warm, and not nearly as scared as she figured she should be, she turned to face the man who she assumed had knocked her down.

  Wow. And wow again.

  Tall. Dark. And dangerous. Yes, that he was. With sharp eyes, angular cheekbones, deep brown wavy hair and lips that inspired erotic fantasies wicked enough to make her blush. He made last month’s Playgirl centerfold look like regurgitated dog meat.

  Frightened and befuddled, she staggered backward. Her knees buckled, and someone caught her from behind, pinning her arms against her back and supporting her with a pair of seriously strong hands.

  Okay, there had been two intruders. She hadn’t been seeing things. So where’d Number Two been hiding?

  The man looming before her sure was big, possessed a presence that left her mouth dry. She tried to speak but all that came out was a little yelp. Number Two tugged her backward until her arms were smooshed between her body and his. More heat whooshed through her, making her simultaneously sweat and shiver.

  She supposed if a girl had to be attacked in her bedroom, in the middle of the night, by strange men, it could be worse. She hadn’t been hurt. Her assailant was easy on the eyes. And so far no one was whipping out knives or guns.

  “There is nothing to fear. We will not hurt you,” Attacker Number One said in a deep, bedroom voice.

  Yet another pulse of desire pounded through her system. She twisted her wrists in a half-assed attempt at breaking free. Her wrist brushed against a very noticeable bulge. The fact that Number Two had a hard-on should’ve frozen her blood to ice. But quite the contrary, it was spiking her body temperature to near lethal levels.

  Ironic, but she’d seen this scenario in a book once, and she’d immediately dismissed the heroine as too-stupid-to-live because she hadn’t busted out the Kung-fu moves and kicked some kidnapper ass. But now she was here, and they were there. And Attacker Number One was looking at her like he was about to eat her alive -- in a very good way -- she could see where that heroine was coming from. It wasn’t every day a girl had a man who looked like a god giving her a second look, let alone an I-have-very-naughty-plans-for-you look.

  This scene sure didn’t inspire her to inflict damage to his dangly parts. Quite the contrary, a few bits of her anatomy decided it was party time. Krumping and breakdancing ensued. Her blood rushed to her groin. And her tongue swelled to fill her entire mouth… or so it seemed.

  In all reality, she just stood there, tongue-tied and pathetically drooling at the good looking guy who’d decided to pay her an impromptu nocturnal visit.

  Was he going to say something? Anything? Why was he here? What did he want with her?

  A thought struck her. Mr. Studly could’ve broken into the wrong apartment. There was the blonde chick she loved to hate, the one with the world’s most perfect tits. Blonde Chick lived in the next apartment. Surely that was the kind of girl a guy who looked this scrumptious would want to visit at two in the morning.

  Life was so unfair!

  With cold reality slapping her in the face, the ability to communicate finally returned to her, and she managed to mutter, “I’m guessing you’re looking for apartment Three-A?”

  Studly’s eyes never left hers. “No.” His tongue swept across his lower lip, and she wondered what it might feel like to have that mouth slanted over top of hers. Naturally, she didn’t expect something so shocking, so impossible, to ever happen. She wouldn’t even dream it.

  That was, until Mr. Studly gave her the shock of her life by sauntering up to her, capturing her upper arms in his fists, and dragging her forward until there wasn’t but a whisper between her soft curves and his hard bulk.

  She gave a little “eep” of surprise before going brain dead.

  Uhhhhh…

  He was tipping his head to one side?

  His gaze was focusing on her mouth!

  He was going to… kiss her?

  Ohmygod, ohmygod… Oh. My. God!

  Had she died and gone to heaven? Was the man with the soft, yummy lips an angel?

  If so, she’d clearly been a very, very good girl. Must’ve been those countless Sundays spent in Catechism as a kid. Who would’ve thought singing some songs and reading a few bible stories would earn her a heavenly reward like this?

  His grip on her upper arms tightened to the point of distraction. Yet she couldn’t even think of complaining. His mouth was so gentle, so absolutely delish, she could have cared less what the rest of him was doing.

  His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, and being an accommodating type of girl, she welcomed it inside, where it stroked and teased and tormented hers. She was beside herself with wanton lust in a single heartbeat. It had, after all, been a long, long time since she’d been kissed. And never kissed so well.

  As Mr. Amazing Lips broke the kiss, her knees threatened to buckle again. In fact, they did. The world around her started spinning round and round, and she closed her eyes to shut out the dizzying sight. Before she could question why all this was happening, she found herself the meat in a studly-man sandwich, the two pieces of bread supporting her wobbly body while she weathered the dizzy spell.

  And then it was over. And the sensation of big, burly bodies pressing possessively against her much smaller and softer one was gone.

  Awwww, man. It had been only a dream. A very vivid one, but a dream nevertheless.

  Perhaps her boss was right, she had been reading too many romance novels?

  Nahhhh. That was just silly.

  A chill swept up her chest and goose bumps prickled the skin of her arms and shoulders. Had she been sleepwalking? Again? She blinked open her eyes, expecting to find herself lying on her living room couch, or even out in the hallway.

  Uh. Oh. Where was she?

  Stone walls? Stone floor? A tiny glassless window…

  Oh God, she was naked!

  Confused and panicking, she hugged herself, a pathetic -- and most definitely failing -- attempt at hiding her most embarrassingly naked parts, and sprinted for the heavy wooden door on the other side of the tiny room. Only one thought registered in her head -- must go home!

  The door groaned open, the rusty hinges creaking. She staggered out into the corridor, dark, narrow, and terrifying.

  Which way? Right? Left? Both ends of the hallway seemed
to be swallowed up in heavy, black shadows. She couldn’t see where it ended. Where it began. She couldn’t see much of anything.

  Again, where was she? And why was she naked? The damp walls of hewn stone and musty odor of stale air reminded her of a tunnel. Or a cave. Or even the bowels of a castle.

  How the heck had she gotten here? This made no sense.

  Suddenly feeling woozy, she staggered back into the room. It reminded her of an ancient dungeon or prison cell, dreary and sparsely furnished. She dropped onto the rickety wooden cot sitting along one wall. Fear made her cold and hot at the same time. Her face heated while shivers quaked up her spine.

  Stop panicking! Think.

  She forced herself to take a couple of slow, deep breaths. Okay. Someone had brought her here. That same someone would come and explain what was going on… sooner or later. Right? Should she sit here and wait? Or go out and search for answers?

  She was naked. Did she really want anyone seeing her like this? She glanced down at her pasty thighs, the lumpy skin spreading out from her hips. Her flabby stomach. Oh God, no. It was too shameful to let anyone see her nude, even her doctor.

  She’d go with Plan A, sit and wait. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all this. Or maybe someone had made a mistake. There were no dungeons in Michigan. No castles. No caves or tunnels. And it wasn’t like she’d been hurt, outside of a bruised ego at being stripped of her clothes. No use panicking prematurely when there was no immediate danger to be seen.

  Arms wrapped around herself to try to ward off the chill, she settled in for what she hoped wouldn’t be a long wait. But then the distant echo of a woman’s scream made her instantly doubt the wisdom of Plan A.

  She set Plan B into motion at the second hair-splitting shriek.

  Chapter 2

  Plan B, run like hell, was working for Maggie pretty well for the first thirty seconds or so. Until she saw Mr. Perfect Kisser striding toward her, a determined scowl giving his handsome face a cruel edge. Pretty sure he was not there to throw her a welcome party, she did a one-eighty and headed in the opposite direction.