Evanne Lorraine
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Slave Market Demons and Dragons II


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Rescued from sexual slavery by a dragon king, Cassie owes the royal a debt she can never repay. Dormant dragon gifts earn her a place of trust as companion, but when she loses her headstrong charge, she faces disgrace and death.

Handpicked to recapture the kidnapped princess, Xyn and Belz are ordered to work with Cassie. That she’s forced to accept a role as their slave is bad enough, but the males bluntly tell her that she can’t come with them unless she can handle all of their sexual needs. Desperate to atone for losing the princess, and innately trusting the males, she reluctantly agrees.

The dominant dragons are hard males to satisfy. Cassie exhausts herself bringing them pleasure. More troubling than her fatigue from so many orgasms is that their erotic demands prove addictive, binding her heart and soul to the dangerous males more surely than she was ever bound by a slave collar.


Belz’s sensitive nose caught a whiff of something sweet and seductive. Then the cyborgs blocking his view shifted, revealing a round dumpling of a female–swathed from head to toe in drab brown robes.

More than curious, he stared at the mysterious servant, who merited a full complement of the king’s own guards. She turned, shoving against the cyborg crowding her. The guard flinched.

Belz bit back a grin. She had to wield a mean elbow to make one of the armored cyborgs back off. For a heartbeat, she met his rude stare.

From a pale, heart-shaped face, brown eyes flashed brilliant green in the instant her gaze met his. He blinked, dazzled. The little dragon from the Slave Market, it had to be. He’d been dreaming of her ever since he’d first seen her on Krineg three years ago, more than half-convinced he’d imagined her.

When he looked again, the pushy cyborg was crowding her. Her lips moved, forming words too soft for even his dragon ears to catch.

Her guard moved closer, pressing her. Metal fingers, shoved her hood aside, revealing a mass of glossy brown hair, and then gripped the back of her neck.

Belz waited for her to twist away or shove the guard back, but the beautiful, little dumpling simply froze.

Without a thought for the consequences, he jumped the waist high barrier between lanes and landed hard. Quickly finding his balance, he broke off the arm clamped on the female’s neck and blocked a clumsy punch from the mech’s remaining arm. Then using the cyborg’s own weight against him, he hip checked him, knocking the stupid guard off the causeway. Harsh sounds of metal grinding under the causeway’s substructure rippled through the air. The echo of destruction quickly faded to meaningless background noise.

He held himself loose, ready to eliminate the rest of the cyborgs. The other guards took no action except to reposition themselves, covering the absent cyborg’s zone and leaving plenty of room for him and little dragon.

Keeping the mechs in view, he turned to the female. Her too pale skin and widened eyes, now a pretty, but an ordinary, hazel worried him. He wanted to reassure her, but all that came out of his calorie hole was a too angry growl of frustrated protectiveness. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I–I overreacted.” She glanced back and shuddered.

Her voice was soft and low. He moved closer to hear her better, wanting to shelter her. A soft scent of sweet chocolate and blended with cool mint, and hot female tugged on his awareness.

Damn, it had been forever since he’d been close enough to smell anyone like her–soft and feminine and dragon. Then, he caught an under layer of seductive pheromones.

Something primeval uncoiled deep in his belly as the dragon stretched to awareness. A harsh interior voice roared, “Mate.”

Without willing it, he closed the distance between them.

Her eyes widened with fresh fear. Clearly he was scaring her. He made himself take a step away, trembling from the amount of effort it took to back off. To hide his raw need, he met her eyes and grinned.

“Unstable.” Gesturing toward the scrap metal behind them, he kept the grin stretching his lips in what he hoped looked like reassurance. “Happens all the time.”

A single dimple flashed when she gave him a shaky smile. “Thank you for rescuing me.” She lowered her voice and he leaned down, watching her mouth. The sweet curve of her lips vanished much too fast. She swayed. “I panicked.”

Her nearness and slight unsteadiness gave him an excuse to touch her. He cupped a generously rounded hip in his broad palm, loving how her soft heat flared, warming him.

For a second, she softened in his clasp and every part of him hardened in hungry response, wanting to claim and protect.

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