The wait is over. The long-awaited third book in the Doms of the FBI series is finally here! Re/Claimed is Dustin and Layla’s story.
Layla’s wicked fantasies had already caused problems that left her with deep emotional scars, so when she got a second chance to live them out, she insisted on strict rules and boundaries.
Dustin agreed to abide by Layla’s rules because that’s the only way he could have her, but after a while, it wasn’t enough. He wanted the whole woman—the impulsive, stubborn parts as well as her sweet, generous side—and so he insists she give him a fair chance to prove he’s worthy of her love. He’s over the moon when she agrees to date him, even if she insists on a vanilla relationship.
Complicating matters is the return of her abusive ex-Master, a kidnapped child, and a human trafficking ring that’s been targeting teens from the community center Layla runs. When the investigation turns up nothing, Layla takes desperate measures that put her and Dustin in danger.
In Re/Claimed (Doms of the FBI 3), Michele Zurlo delivers another hot, heartwrenching, and stunning BDSM romantic suspense tale.
Warnings: D/s, kidnap/breaking-and-entering fantasy play, impact play, bondage, spanking, anal play, electric play, and some seriously sexy kinky footwear
Word Count: 87,000
Dustin wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted to date her. Go steady. Be an item. It seemed both juvenile and momentous.
After Brodie, the man she’d thought would fill the roles of friend, lover, and Master, had proven to be not at all the person she’d thought he was, she had sworn off dating a Dom. The liberties he’d taken—and forced her to consent to—still gave her nightmares. Memories snuck up on her at the oddest times, battering her with intense waves of humiliation that stole her confidence and sense of self.
Yes, Dustin was a good man—much too good for her. Once he found out about the things she’d allowed Brodie to make her do, he would gently break her heart and run as far as he could go.
Dustin’s palm pressed against hers, warm and firm, tangible proof that she was about to take a step forward. Right now, she had paused in a figurative half-step, her foot hovering uncertainly in the air. Once she put her foot down and shifted her weight, the ground behind her would fall away, leaving her forever teetering on the precipice.
Full disclosure. She should warn him of the consequences to his actions.
“Dustin, if you’re serious about this, I think you should know that I date vanilla.”
He didn’t move. She lifted her gaze from the floor to find him staring at her curiously. Was she nervous? Utterly. She stared back, her manner appropriately sober.
No need to go into the details or give voice to uncomfortable memories. “BDSM scenes are fun, but they’re not what I’m looking for in a long-term relationship. If I ever settle down, I want a husband, not a Master.” Nobody was ever going to order or coerce her into doing anything she didn’t want to do. Not again.
He brushed his thumb back and forth over her wrist, evidence that he was both considering and bothered by her assertion. “Can’t you have both?”
Once she’d thought it possible. Brodie had proven her theory wrong. “No. A husband is a partner. A Master is the boss. That’s exciting, but impractical for the long haul. I just think you should know my views on the issue before you decide to change lanes.” Silence fell in a heavy, oppressive blanket, but she didn’t attempt to alleviate it with mindless chatter, further explanation, or false assurances.
Finally his head bobbed a brief nod, indicating he’d arrived at a conclusion. “So you’re thinking that we’ll eventually get married?”
Other friends and members of the family had arrived, and the house rang with conversation, laughter, and the squeals of small children. The bathroom on the main floor never seemed to be free, so Layla headed up the stairs. Perhaps it was a little on the rude side to use their private restroom, but it was an emergency. Just to be stealthy, she relied on the ambient light coming up the steps to find her way around.
On the way out, a hand clamped over her mouth, and she found herself pressed back against a hard body. Though her heart raced, she recognized Dustin immediately, so she didn’t struggle. Excitement bubbled through her veins, but this was the wrong time and place for a scene. She hadn’t seen him all afternoon, and she had no idea why he would attempt something like this now—especially after his polite reception.
She cooperated as he pulled her into a spare bedroom. He closed the door. In the scant streetlight that filtered through the curtains, she could make out the shape of a bed near the window of Darcy’s guest room.
Dustin shoved her face-first against the wall. He used his weight to hold her in place, and she felt one hand work the button and zipper on her jeans. She grabbed at his hand, trying to halt his actions.
It didn’t work. If he felt her protest, he completely ignored her. He plunged his hand down the front of her pants, cupping her mound. Behind her, he ground his hard cock against her ass.
Adrenaline kicked through her veins for two reasons. First, she desperately didn’t want to be caught. Second, the sheer naughtiness set her juices flowing. She surrendered to the second feeling for several gluttonous moments. Then her better sense kicked in and she renewed her struggle.
She landed a couple lucky kicks to his shins, but that didn’t stop him. The loud thunk of her foot hitting the wall halted his actions.
He rested his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. Breathing heavily into her neck, he shook his head. “If you can’t be quiet, then everybody downstairs will know what a kinky little slut you are because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to fuck you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She knew this man, but taking him out of context also moved her out of her comfort zone. His vehement reassurance calmed her nerves enough for her to concentrate on the way her clit pulsed against his palm.
As her heartbeat calmed, she nodded consent. He eased his hand away from her mouth.
She inhaled a huge breath and licked her lips. “I think you might want to keep it there.” The more she enjoyed sex, the louder she became.
He chuckled as he pushed her jeans and panties down. In seconds, she felt his bare cock sliding toward her pussy. He guided it into her hot and dripping cunt, stretching and filling her in a way that made her feel possessed.
She braced her hands against the wall. Her jeans imprisoned her legs. She couldn’t spread them to gain leverage. Caught between clothing and his weight, she was forced to stand still and accept whatever he wanted to do to her. Nothing turned her on more.
Over and over, he stabbed her sweet spot. It didn’t take long for the hot coil tightening inside her abdomen to burst. He clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle the noises, and he buried his face in her neck as jets of his semen shot into her pussy.
They stayed that way for nearly a minute, and she suspected he was trying for a brief cuddle—something else she’s prohibited. Then he stepped away from her, fixed his clothes, and reached for the doorknob.
“What are you doing?” She scrambled to pull up her jeans.
He laughed, but she heard his bitterness. “What you want me to do.” With that, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
She leaned against the wall that had just cradled her body. For the first time, she felt empty and dissatisfied after his departure.
Link to Re/Claimed on Lost Goddess Publishing (where you’ll find additional buy links for BN and ARe.)