Excerpt Day: Surrender Love by Kayelle Allen

[reviews_and_ramblings]

Surrender Love by Kayelle Allen
Release Date: 03/2009
Publisher: Loose Id
ISBN: 978-1-59632-874-7
Publisher Link: http://www.loose-id.com/prod-Surrender__Love-887.aspx

Amazon Kindle: Surrender Love

Blurb: In the beds of countless lovers over the centuries, the immortal Luc Saint-Cyr has been mastered as well as master. Commanded and commander. When his mortal lover leaves him, the distraught Luc withdraws and throws himself into work. His entertainment company hosts a ceremony for their most successful rock group, and Luc meets drummer Izzorah "Rah" Ceeow, one of the feline Kin race. Rah's velvety, golden furskin and dark hair captivate Luc. Pert cat's ears and a quick smile lighten his mood, and one look into Rah's emerald eyes, deep and tranquil as a forest pool, and troubles cease. Rah's a virgin, but Luc's too fascinated by the quiet depth of Rah's inner peace to rush him into sex. Seducing Rah and savoring his surrender will be as delicious as taking him. No matter how sexually starved Luc is, he will allow Rah to give himself when he is ready to surrender his innocence, to offer himself to Luc's command. Rah will beg to be taken. Luc's anticipation and desire are palpable; as real as his hunger for faithful, unconditional love. But to gain Rah's love, how much of himself is Luc willing to surrender?

Excerpt (Luc meets Rah):

This was a fun scene to write and I hope to read.

Set up - Izzorah's group Kumwhatmay is about to sign a five-year contract with Lucsondis Entertainment, Luc's premier business. Wulf normally handled these affairs but since he and Luc have separated, it's up to Luc. Fresh from a meeting with Mynkoh Ceeow, one of his top security people, he invites the Kin warrior to join him to meet the Kumwhatmay. Unbeknownst to her, the drummer Izzorah is her sister's youngest son, and she hasn't seen her nephew since he escaped from his homeworld five years ago to avoid an arranged marriage. Luc knew they shared the same last name, but had no idea of their relationship, or of Izzorah's past.

Those of you who know Luc Saint-Cyr from previous books will get a kick out of seeing the button-down, always-in-charge alpha lose his cool. People melt over him, not the other way around. That is, until he meets Izzorah "Rah" Ceeow.

******

"Aunt Mynkoh?" Luc clasped both hands behind him. "Well, this is a surprise. Why don't you introduce me?"
With an intent expression, the Kin female cocked her ears as if listening to the two young Kin. For a moment, Luc was certain she was about to argue with them, but she shook her head as if dismissing a thought, held up a hand, and shrugged. None of them had spoken, but from their expressions, all agreed. What the hell? Kin aren't telepathic. Are they?

Mynkoh turned to Luc. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

He raised both brows. "Introduce me?"

She stared at him a moment and then flinched. "Oh! Oh, of course. Pardon me, boss. Mr. Saint-Cyr, this is Izzorah and Fletch Ceeow. Izzy's mother and Fletch's father are my sister and brother." She arched one brow; her ears canted out and back. "So you see, not all Kin are cousins."

"Apparently not." He extended a hand to the dark-haired Fletch, who was reaching for him. Like the others, he wore formal business attire with a complicated Tyran knot in his silk tie. Few could tie it properly; this one was perfect. "Pleased to meet you, Fletch. You're not a member of the group, are you?"

"No, sir. Visiting with my cousin Izzy."

"Welcome to Lucsondis. I hope you enjoy your day with us."

"Thank you, sir."

Luc turned to the other Kin. "Which means you must be Izzorah, the drummer."

The young Kin held out his hand and tilted back his head to look up at Luc. Gentle face, softer than most Kin, but that square jaw and mouth bespoke strength. His hand trembled and felt clammy, a sure sign of fear.

Luc wrapped it with both of his in a reassuring grip. "Welcome to Tarth. I hope…uh, you…" The wide, cat-oval pupils and emerald green eyes pulled him down into their quiet depths. As if he stared into a deep and tranquil forest pool, all the tension of the day faded. Luc lost his train of thought completely, too drawn in to speak. He stood there, mesmerized, holding Izzorah's hand.

A peach-colored blush stole across the Kin's cheeks, and he lowered his gaze and withdrew his hand, breaking the spell.

"…Uh…" Luc cleared his throat. Get hold of yourself, old man! He bowed. "Welcome to Tar -- er, I said that." He grinned like an adolescent meeting his first crush. "I meant to For Women Only. No, to…Lucsondis." Smooth, Luc. Way to look stupid. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Forgive me. I've been all over this morning. So busy, I forgot where I was." He coughed into a fist. Pay attention, Luc. It's not like you've never seen a Kin hottie before. "Have you spent much time on Tarth?"

Izzorah peeked up at him. A thick fringe of black velvet lashes framed those bewitching emerald eyes. "I live here when I'm not touring. In the Kelthian District, with my cousin Trey." He nodded toward his cousin. "Fletch's big brother."

"Wonderful. It must be good to be near you."

Izzorah cocked his head, ears twitching. "Sir?"

"Uh --" Luc's thoughts tangled up under the impact of Izzorah's brilliant green eyes. What the hell did I say? This isn't like you, old man. Get hold of yourself! He shook his head to clear it. "It must be nice to be your family. I mean -- near your family." Geez, Luc. Get it together.

Izzorah broke into a full smile, and Luc was utterly lost, content simply to stare and enjoy Izzorah's beauty. No. It went far deeper than the surface appeal. The peace in Izzorah's eyes offered rest. Luc smiled back, neither of them speaking.

Ms. Mead's voice jerked him back to the moment. She introduced Tark, Shaik, Pellen, and Kory. The singer's physical beauty gave credence to Mead's opinion that he'd been a good pleasure slave. One could gaze at Kory purely for enjoyment, rather like Wulf. Izzorah's effect lay on a far grander scale.

Few Kin like same-sex relationships, old man. Don't offend him. For pity's sake, don't stare at him again.

The signing was completed without difficulty, although Izzorah seemed to have several questions that he discussed with Kory. Once satisfied, he thumbed the seal screen to accept the contract.

Luc took Ms. Mead aside before lunch, purely on impulse. "Have you assigned seating for this?"

"Of course, sir. You'll be --"

"Good. Make sure Izzorah is where I can talk to him."

She set a hand near her throat. "Is anything wrong?"

"I didn't intend to sound as if there were. I'd simply like him close enough to talk to, if possible." He set his mouth in what he hoped was a smile.

She searched his gaze for a moment before she stepped back. "I'll see to it."

The moment she walked away, the impact of his decision hit him. What are you doing? "Never act on impulse. Plan first. Think it through. Then act." You live by this credo. He rubbed a hand across his mouth. This is not like you, old man. You don't need this type of entanglement right now. Let yourself get over Wulf before you go fishing for another heartbreak. The less rational imp on his shoulder prompted the opposite reaction. Well, who says you need to fall in love? He'd be a delicious fling. Not all Kin are heartbreakers.

His five-year affair with Wulf hadn't ended because of his fling with Jawk, but the Kin male hadn't helped it either. After Wulf tore out his heart and threw it on the ground, Jawk had stomped on it.

Once burned, twice shy, old man. Think about this. It's a risk you don't need. But do I want it?

Mynkoh stood in the opposite corner with Fletch and Izzorah. If anyone could toss a wet blanket over his interest in Izzorah, surely she could. After the briefest hesitation, he headed her way.

"Excuse me, Mynkoh." Luc took her arm. "May I have a word with you, please?"

"Sure thing, boss." She followed him away from the younger Kin. "What's up?"

"I hope you'll stay for lunch. Spend some time with your nephews."

"I --" She twisted her clan ring, biting her lower lip. "Um, actually, I have an appointment across town. I'm surprised to see Izzorah. I didn't know he was on Tarth."

"Please, you're welcome to stay. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to have family here."

"No, but thanks." She set one hand on her knife's hilt. "Did you need something?"

"There's a For Women Only board meeting this afternoon. I'd like to meet with you afterward. We'll have a budget for some new projects by then and we can discuss your part of them."

Izzorah stood nearby in a ray of sunshine, talking. His pale golden furskin glowed, the short dark hair on his head a sharp contrast. He laughed at something his cousin said, and Luc smiled himself, captured by the sound.
"Boss?"

"Sorry, Mynkoh. What did you say?"

Mynkoh turned in the direction he'd been staring, but the two young Kin had crossed the room to pick up drinks. She gave Luc a quizzical glance, shook her head. "Are we going to bid on the government job?"

"Which one?"

Her ears shot straight up.

"Oh!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "The consult job. Not sure yet." Across the room, Izzorah laughed again, and the sound washed over Luc like gentle rain, leaving him acutely aware of his own loneliness. What would it be like to hear joyful laughter every day? To have a smile, and a soulful, innocent gaze like Izzorah's beaming up at him?

"Sir?" Mynkoh set a hand on his arm. "Are you all right? You don't seem yourself today."

Ms. Mead stopped beside her, watching him as well.

"Headache." Luc circled his fingers against his temples. "Sorry."

"Oh, dear." Ms. Mead picked up a bottle of water from a nearby table, opened it, and handed it to him. "Drink a little of this, sir. It'll help."

He took a sip, but Ms. Mead gestured him to drink more. He drank half. "Thank you, Ms. Mead."

"I don't believe I've ever heard you complain of a headache." Ms. Mead peered at him with concern.

He squinted. "Stress."

"Ah."

"What time, boss?" Mynkoh asked.

"Time?" He frowned. "For what?"

"To discuss the budget."

"Oh! The budget. Of course."

She flicked one ear toward him, laid the other back. Ms. Mead glanced toward Izzorah, back at Luc knowingly.
"We won't finish before six, Mynkoh. How about meeting me for dinner? Say, eight o'clock at Batchelors, in the Kelthian District. We'll work while we eat."

She nodded. "I'll meet you there."

"Wonderful." He set down the water and clasped both hands behind him. "Are you sure you won't stay for lunch?"

"Positive." She ducked her head, glanced up, and smiled. "See you tonight. I hope you feel better."

Luc set his mouth in a smile and nodded his thanks.

When lunch was brought in a few minutes later, Mynkoh excused herself. Fletch was seated on one side of Izzorah, Luc on the other.

Don't lead him on, old man. Don't give him any idea you're attracted to him. Do the lunch, be polite, and get the hell away from him. The scent of beef made Luc's stomach growl. He set a hand against it. "Excuse me."

Izzorah smiled over at him. "Hungry?"

"Famished." He unfolded a napkin and placed it on his lap. "I ate before dawn and have been on the go since four this morning."

The drummer picked up his napkin. "I know the feeling. I couldn't sleep last night and couldn't face breakfast. We had to get up and go early." Izzorah pronounced oh sounds with more breath than usual, the only holdover from his native language.

"Tell me, Izzorah, are you more excited or nervous?"

"I can't tell." He laid the napkin in his lap. "We signed with Mr. Gabriel last time, and it was over in ten minutes. Someone took two pictures. This time it's a big deal."

Luc leaned back in the chair. "Kumwhatmay has broken all the sales goals we set for you. You have more venue requests than you can possibly fill, and your command performance at the palace resulted in the empress wanting copies of your music, which, I might add, she gave to friends. You have a sound track under your belt. Kumwhatmay warrants 'a big deal.' You've earned it."

"Wow." Izzorah twisted to better face him. "I had no idea you'd pay attention to a group like ours."

And God bless Ms. Mead and her research. He smiled. "Wulf -- er, Mr. Gabriel, is your point of contact, but the kind of success you've experienced deserves attention. Mr. Gabriel is out of town today, or he would've attended as well. He's quite proud of what you've accomplished. We all are."

"Thank you."

The food was served, and for a time, few spoke. When he'd polished off most of the entrée, Luc dabbed his mouth and lifted his glass of wine. He drank a bit and waited for Izzorah to swallow before asking him how he liked the food.

The drummer dabbed the napkin over his mouth. "Excellent. The meat's perfect for a Kin. I'm impressed someone thought to order it for us. I usually pick at the meat 'cause it's overcooked."

"Ms. Mead is a demon of precision." He gestured with the wineglass. "This, for example. I love Skovron Burgundy. She makes sure it's served when I'm having lunch."

"I don't know much about wine, but I did like some pink stuff we had on Whinbrice when we performed at the Skovron Stadium. I forget what it's called."

"Rosamund?"

"Yes! It was sweet." Izzorah picked up his Burgundy, sniffed, and then tasted it. "This is strong." He set it down.
"Here. Let me fix it." Luc took the drink and poured all but the dregs into his own glass. He opened a bottle of sparkling, fruit-flavored water and filled Izzorah's glass. "Try it now." He handed it back.

The drummer took a hesitant sip, nodded, and took another. "Much better. I didn't know you could mix wine with other things."

"It's a great mixer. Try Rosamund with a carbonated fruit drink. Makes them both taste better."

Izzorah grinned. "Thank you. I will."

"Skovron Burgundy is also from Whinbrice. It's the stronger, purer form of Rosamund."

"I didn't know --" Izzorah smiled as Feeyona Joie came up to their table, interrupting their discussion. "Hello again, Ms. Joie. Aren't you having lunch?"

"I grabbed two bites and started working, Izzy. So much for the glamorous life of a photoborg." She blinked and her eyes became the mottled gray and silver of a camera-droid's lenses. She turned to Luc. "I'd like to do some casual shots before the photo shoot, with your permission, boss."

"Certainly. Izzorah? Objections?"

"None." He turned to Feeyona. "Do you want me to do anything?"

"Here's an empty glass. Hold it the way you did a moment ago, and boss, would you pour for him again?"

Izzorah obeyed, glass in hand.

Luc picked up the bottle, chagrined he'd been watched during what he'd thought was a fairly private moment. Could he do anything without someone watching?

"Great." Feeyona backed up, knelt down, and moved her head a bit to get a better angle. With her droid lenses exposed, whatever she saw, she could capture. "Boss, go ahead and pour. Izzorah, look at Mr. Saint-Cyr and think about those jeans." She winked.

Izzorah smiled and blushed, as if they'd shared a private joke.

Jeans? Luc started pouring, met Izzorah's green-eyed gaze, and fell headlong into a maelstrom of erotic thoughts. Izzorah wanton with lust, lips wet and parted, fangs gleaming, throat arched, head tossing back while Luc pleasured him. When Luc brought him to orgasm, would he cry out? Or purr?

"Whoa!" Izzorah started laughing. The sparkling water was running over the top and down his fingers onto the floor.

Luc righted the bottle. "Sorry!" He set it down and grabbed his napkin. "Here. I can't believe I did that." You're in rare form today, old man. So much for not giving the wrong impression. He pressed fingertips against his brow.
Izzorah flashed him a smile as he set down the glass and dried his hand. "Did you get your picture, Ms. Joie?"
"Did I!" She raised an eyebrow at Luc, smirking with enjoyment. "Thank you, gentlemen. Here's a fresh napkin, boss." She handed it to him. "I'm off to see what kind of trouble I can get the others into."

Izzorah lowered his head and then peeked up at Luc. The hunger in his gaze left no doubt of his desire.

Luc's heart skipped a beat and then kicked into high. He wants me. Oh, my God. This beautiful young Kin is interested in me! Life is good.

******

Excerpt (Luc fantasizes of Wulf):

This scene is from chapter one of Surrender Love, which takes place a few weeks after the break up of Luc Saint-Cyr and Wulf Gabriel. If you haven't read any of my previous books, don't worry. This book will introduce you to the world and its people without any prior knowledge needed. As my editor told readers at a recent chat, "The great thing about this story is that it completely immersed me in the universe right from the start. I hadn't read the other books first, and it didn't matter, because I was immediately swept into these characters' complex lives, without feeling as if I was missing any important information or insight."

Luc, who is always cool, always in control of his emotions, is distraught with self-loathing and guilt. Since he ususally only releases his passion and emotions with a lover, now that he's alone, he's slogging through each day in a haze and hiding from the world at night, with only his faithful butler/android aware of his turmoil.

Note: ****** denotes beginning and end of fantasy / flashback

******

Tarth, Tarth City, Di Lusso District
Nizamrak Building Penthouse "The Loft"
Sofftem 21, 4664 Tradestandard date

Atop the Nizamrak Building, tallest in the city, Luc Saint-Cyr stepped out of his long, black hoversine into the cool breeze of an autumn night. He drew in a deep breath of crisp, clean air, blew it all out, and rolled his shoulders. Up here, the quiet whoosh of traffic, hustle, and hubbub of the city faded.

He took three steps to the railing. The cool, damp breeze, heavy with the scent of rain, blew up the sheer sides of the building and buffeted his skin. Tarth City lay below in all its splendor, lights ablaze in every direction all the way to the horizon. Their glow cast a white sheen against flat clouds so close he could almost reach them. He closed his eyes, listening to the muffled roar of a sleepliner docking at the starport to the west. A rumble of thunder began on the east and rolled overhead, threatening storms.

Luc gripped the handrail and braced himself against it, arms stiff, head down. No matter how late he worked, when he returned, the empty penthouse taunted him with memories. Some nights, it was all he could do to get out of the car. Had it only been three weeks?

You'd think Wulf had died. Luc's heart ached as if he had. He shook his head, taking another sighing breath, and shoved himself away from the railing. You were lovers for five years. Give yourself time to get over him. You'll fall in love again. You're immortal. He trudged toward the Loft. Wulf isn't. It would have happened eventually. You'll get over him. You have plenty of time.

Outside the entrance, he stopped, fingertips against his brow. He lifted his head, straightened his shoulders, and opened the door.

"Good evening, sir." McDoth greeted him. The android butler bowed politely, his black and white uniform immaculate. "Welcome home. How was your day?"

"The usual." He shrugged out of his coat. "Busy, but accomplished nothing."

The android took his coat and draped it across one arm. "Shall I see to your dinner, sir? Or did you eat at your club?"

"Not hungry, but thank you." He grabbed a fresh bottle of Kelthian whiskey from the bar. "I'll be in my room."

"Very well, sir." McDoth offered him a glass, but didn't release it until Luc met his steady gaze. "I miss him as well."

Luc swallowed, tongue jammed hard against the back of his teeth. When he could trust his voice, he cleared his throat. "Don't worry over him. He's made his choice. He has a new life."

"It's not him I'm worried about."

Luc grunted. "Well, stop it. I'm fine. I'm over him."

"I've served you too many lifetimes not to know when you're lying. And I will worry over you if I wish. Please," -- McDoth released it -- "use the glass."

Luc turned away, smiling despite himself. But in his room, he set the glass on the dresser and carried the bottle to his canopied bed. He perched on the end, refusing to face the man in the mirror across from him.

He opened the whiskey, tilted it up and drank half, wiped his chin and grimaced. No alcohol affected him; he drank it for the memories of the people he'd loved and the times they'd shared. Luc wiped the top of the bottle with the heel of his hand and finished off the rest in two big gulps. Might as well have been tea. Nothing.

Drawing back the bottle in one hand, he paused, and then hurled it at the mirror above his dresser. Glass shattered.

Small portals at the bottom of the walls immediately opened and cleaner-bots rolled out. Luc crunched the glass underfoot as he walked over and picked up a framed flatpic of Wulf and himself.

Five years! Luc blew bits of glass off the frame. Where did it go wrong? How did I let this happen? He shook himself, set down the picture. Stop brooding. Channel it into work. That's what you need. Keep focused. You can't lose control like this. Stay focused. Stay --His eyes stung, and he shut them and pressed his thumb and fingers against the lids.

He turned toward the bed, cast off his clothing, and kicked it into a pile. Gone was the Luc Saint-Cyr who folded everything neatly and set it aside. Wulf's constant chaos had worn off on him, and he'd taken to shedding his clothes in quick order to meet Wulf in the center of the bed.

Oh, God. He clenched both fists, aching at his loss. Why didn't I see how unhappy he was? How did I ruin everything?

Luc grabbed one of the pillows from Wulf's side and tugged it beneath his chest, pulled another close to his face. Remember how he felt in your arms. Never let yourself forget, no matter how many centuries you live. His hot mouth linked with yours. His cock, hard within your fist. His body open and willing. Begging for you. Remember how he trusted you.

Luc reached down and gripped his own hard cock. Emotionally exhausted, his mind drifted off to another haunting dream of Wulf at his side.

******

His lover knelt, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and pulled, a hand beneath Luc's balls, fondling them as they tightened.

"Wulf!" Luc threw his head back, air hissing over clenched teeth. "Yes." He bucked his hips, thrusting deeper into his lover's throat. "Gonna come. So close. So close -- oh, God!" Thighs spread, body shaking, fists clenched, Luc growled as Wulf continued to suck, pulling back to tease his slit, dipping his tongue into it, pulling out to lick around the rim, and then swallowing him whole again, driving him to the edge.

Luc let Wulf grip and pull him closer; he filled the eager throat with cock. Wulf swallowed, squeezed with his throat, tonguing the vein on the underside.

Luc bowed his back. "Oh, yes! Take it, Wulf. Take it now."

Wulf released the head with a wet pop. "No." He pushed himself to his feet.

On the verge of coming, a bone-rattling shudder cost Luc his balance. He'd have fallen if not for Wulf's strength keeping him upright. Confusion and frustration rolled over Luc in equal waves, his body so close to the peak he shook, hands fisted. Anger swept over him.

Wulf stepped back.

Luc grabbed Wulf by both arms, yanked him closer. "Don't tease!" He fisted a hand in Wulf's dark hair and took his mouth, tasting his own precum.

Wulf set both hands against his chest and shoved Luc back. "I said no!" He danced backward. "You only want me 'cause I suck cock the way you like it. 'Best I've ever had,' you told me. But any mouth will do." Wulf pointed at him. "You're immortal. Once you get it up it doesn't go down until you've ravished me -- and anyone else you can ram your prick into. When you thought I was sleeping, you sneaked out of our bed and got more cock somewhere else. Did you have to look far? Did any street hustler do? Or did you go to one of those sex clubs where you could sit back and let willing throats suck you down, one after the other." He tilted his head. "Or maybe it was pussy. You didn't discriminate, did you? If it had a hole, you'd fuck it."

"No! N-not true." Balls tight, full, aching, his cock rigid, Luc clamped his jaws shut. He stumbled forward and framed Wulf's face with gentle hands. "Love you." Full sentences were beyond him, his body betraying his usual control. "Fuck. Now."

"No." Wulf pulled away and turned his back, arms folded across his chest. "I was never enough for you. Never. You were never faithful to me."

"No!" Luc turned Wulf to face him. "Only you. Make you happy. You. No one else. No one."

"Liar! I followed you, night after night. I wasn't enough!" The poignancy in his tone tore at Luc's heart. "You need more than I can give. I wanted to be everything to you, but I couldn't. I'm mortal. I could never give as much as an immortal needs to take. The moment you come you're hard again, wanting it." He flattened both hands against his own chest. "I can't keep up, Luc. I can't keep trying. I want out. Let me go. Let me go, damn it!"
"Wulf..." He ran his hands down Wulf's arms, held his hands. "I was selfish. I can be satisfied with less. I know I can. Forgive me. Let me try again."

"No, don't you get it?" Wulf jerked his hands free and back stepped. "I don't want to be the 'less' you satisfy yourself with! I want to be your all." Wulf's dark gaze lowered. "You let other lovers do things you never let me."

"You were never less. I was selfish. Demanding." The dream shifted, and the two were in Luc's huge, canopied bed, Wulf beneath him with the velvet friction of their cocks against one another. It felt so right, so perfect. They fit together, two halves of one whole. "See how good this feels? I can make it good for you again. I can love you, Wulf. Fulfill you. Come back to me."

"No." With both hands, Wulf pushed against Luc's chest again. "It isn't the sex! Listen to me! You took more and more of my heart, but it was never enough." He tossed his head. "I want up. Let me go."

"Wulf, let me try one more time. I can make you happy." Luc leaned down to kiss him.

Wulf pushed Luc off him, sat up, and stared down at him, brows crinkled, brown-eyed gaze full of pain. "Your other lovers fucked you."

Luc released a groan of pain. "Yes."

"Did you like it? Want it?"

Luc closed his eyes.

"Open your eyes, damn it!" Wulf gripped Luc's face with one hand, his brown eyes narrowed, hard as flint. "Answer me. Did you enjoy it? Was it what you wanted? To be fucked?"

"Yes, damn it. I enjoyed it. How's that affect us?"

"You never let me fuck you."

"You... you were such a natural sub. I never thought... When I needed that, I went to others."

"Why didn't you ask me?" He let go of Luc's face and sat back. "What made you think I wouldn't want to fuck you? I'd have used any kind of toy you wanted. I'd have learned to whip you like you did me, if that's what you wanted. I'd have given you anything, Luc. Anything. I loved you!"

Luc laid a hand against Wulf's smooth chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Wulf shook his head, covering his face in both hands. When he met Luc's gaze, only anger showed. "What I wanted didn't matter! Every time I tried to talk about sex, you shut me up with kisses. We never talked. Once you got a hard-on, there was no reasoning with you. Did you ever think I might get tired of always submitting to what you wanted? Never having a choice about what we'd do?"

"Come back. Give me one more chance. Let me prove it. Come back to bed right now and fuck me."

In a flash, Wulf was straddling him on the bed.

Heat roared through Luc, straight up his shaft, into his body.

Wulf gripped Luc's wrists and lifted his arms over his head, pinning him to the bed. "When I'm finished you're gonna realize what you missed." Wulf bent and slanted his mouth across Luc's, tongue sweeping inside.

Luc accepted the heat of his kiss, chests together, the rapid thud-thud-thud of Wulf's heart beating against him. The kiss deepened.

Wulf lavished attention on his mouth, licking every corner, circling his tongue and licking Luc's lips. He moved between Luc's thighs. "Put your legs on my shoulders."

Luc allowed Wulf to help him, so lost in bliss Luc could not think past the ecstasy of having him back in his bed.

"You're not ready for me." He nudged his cock at Luc's hole. "You're resisting. I don't want to hurt you." Wulf's image faded around the edges, ghostlike.

"No!" Luc grabbed him by the waist. "Stay with me. I don't care if it hurts." Luc shoved against him, wiggling his ass. "Let me show you how sorry I am I ever hurt you."

"Your pain can't make up for mine."

"I wish it could! I'd beg you to hurt me, make me suffer. Take me, any way you want. Use me."

Wulf rocked against him again.

Luc bit back a groan of pleasure-pain. The sight of his own dark hands on Wulf's light-skinned thighs sent him higher. Everyone stared at them wherever they went. Darkness and Light. The Beast walking proudly with his Beauty. "Wulf! I...oh...I love you. Love you."

Wulf spit in his hand, slicked it over his cock, and shoved in an inch. Out, back in, increasing penetration with each rock of his hips. "Feel my cock? Feel me inside you? Is this what you want?" Wulf breached him fully on the fifth thrust.

"Fuck me harder. Make me feel alive. I was your lover. I was supposed to know what you needed. I swear, baby. I swear this time it'll be different. Stay with me." He hooked one leg around Wulf's waist, rolled the other thigh outward, tightening his channel.

Wulf slammed into him, hard, and wrapped both hands around Luc's cock, slicking the precum over his skin, stroking, hands wet. "I love you, Luc. I never wanted anyone but you."

Luc's own climax rose so fast, so hard, he couldn't speak, couldn't beg to slow down. Waves of pleasure rolled over him, drowning him with heat as Wulf drove into him, and squeezing and milking his cock. Arcs of hot semen covered Luc's chest and belly. Waves of sensation reached down to his toes, out to his fingers. He arched his neck.

"Oh, God, Wulf. Yes. Yes. Yes..."

******

Opening his eyes, Luc lay motionless for a moment, so drained by his climax he couldn't speak. He rolled over and sat up, smeared and sticky with semen.

Alone. Again. Still. Wulf had never been there. Every night, every dream, Wulf gave him a different excuse for leaving him. They'd had no closure, no final good-byes, no reasons given. All Luc had to go on were guesses and fears. They hadn't spoken about their break up at all, moving through their lives as if nothing had occurred other than living arrangements. Luc covered his face. Did I fail at everything? Did I do nothing right?

He rolled out of bed, entered the bathroom, and stood, hands braced on the black marble counter, refusing to lift his head, to see the smears of semen coating chest and belly. When he finally faced himself in the mirror, he stared long and hard into the solid-black obsidian eyes. The sheen of sweat covered his dark skin. He curled his wide mouth in a sneer.

"You stupid, stupid bastard. You threw him away. You shoved him out of your life!" He slammed his fist into the face in the mirror, glass cracking and shattering into the marble sinks.

"Sir, here, here." McDoth appeared at his side. "Let me get you cleaned up." The android pulled him away, and walked him into the glass-enclosed shower. "You're covered in a dust of glass and blood."

Luc stood in the center of the shower, while various nozzles cascaded hot water over him. Not enough water in the empire to wash away this pain. I can't shed enough blood to make it right.

"Your fist and feet are bleeding, sir. There's glass everywhere." McDoth pulled up a handheld nozzle and took Luc's right hand. "Let's get this glass out of your knuckles and then I'll work on your feet. We'll get some triefan on them and heal you."

"No." Luc shook his head. Droplets of water flew. "Don't heal me. I want it to hurt. I need it."

A short pause. "Very well, sir. Let's get rid of the glass so it doesn't endanger anyone. The droids weren't through picking up the pieces from the dresser mirror, apparently."

Dressed in his butler's uniform, McDoth knelt and lifted each of Luc's feet in turn, tending him like a wounded animal.

"McDoth."

The butler moved out of the direct spray and shielded his eyes from the water as he looked up. "Sir?"

"I'm sorry. I swore I wouldn't do this again. I --" Luc shook his head. "I'm so lost without him."

"I know." The butler stood, supported him as he got out of the shower. After toweling him dry, McDoth wrapped Luc in a thick white robe and escorted him back to the bedroom. One of the house droids had already remade the bed. McDoth held his robe for him as Luc crawled into the clean bed.

Luc grabbed the android's hand. "I won't do this again, McDoth. I promise. I mean it this time. I will never do this again."

McDoth patted his hand, his smile reassuring.

Drawing back his hand, Luc compared it to the other; already healed as if never damaged. A Sempervian's pain never lasted -- except in his heart.

The android covered him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I put your robe at the end of the bed, should you need it. The droid crew will replace the mirrors in the morning. Bit of a routine thing for them. Don't give it another thought." McDoth paused at the open door and turned back. "Try to sleep, sir. It's hours before you have to rise." He shut off the lights and shut the door, leaving Luc in darkness.

He lay on his back, one arm folded over his eyes. Why did Wulf leave me? What did I do? He rolled onto his side, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again. Faint light shone at the bottom of the door, two small dark areas showing where McDoth stood guard.

One-handed, Luc removed his black lenses and cast them aside. The dark of full blindness suffocated, as real as the pain in his heart.

******

Excerpt (Izzorah fantasizes of a Dream Lover):

Setting up the scene: The immortal Luc Saint-Cyr's lover of five years has left him, and to avoid public fanfare, Luc spends his days working and his nights drinking himself to sleep. Loneliness and despair are encroaching like tyrants in the night. His life needs purpose; he lacks a reason to face each day. Meanwhile, Izzorah Ceeow, a drummer for the group Kumwhatmay, has traveled for the last year with them and a couple of other rock groups in the Lucsondis stable. They're in Tarth City to sign a new contract with Luc's entertainment company. Trouble is, Izzorah has a few secrets, any one of which could cost him his career, his friends, and possibly even his life. If ever he needed a hero, it's now. Destiny is bringing them together, but will they be able to overcome their own layers of secrets and lies, and each surrender to love?

Note: ****** denotes beginning and end of fantasy / flashback

******

Di Consueto District
Renyoj Building

His room in the Renyoj Building sounded cavernous. Lucsondis Entertainment put them in posh places wherever Kumwhatmay toured, always top of the line. Izzorah Ceeow flung himself onto his bed and spread arms and legs wide. "This bed's huge!" He ducked as his cousin landed next to him.

"Sure is." Fletch threw himself across Izzorah and scraped knuckles against his head.

Laughing, Izzorah shoved him and rolled off the bed to bounce away. Fletch immediately gave chase and Izzorah went down in a flying tackle. He heard the lamp pitch off the table and stretched his body, flung out both hands and caught it before it hit the floor.

"Good catch!" Fletch crawled over to him, breathing heavily with exertion.

"You almost broke it!" Izzorah sat up, knelt, and lifted the lamp back to the table.

"Did not." Fletch gave him a playful shove.

"Did." He shoved back.

After a moment, Fletch poked him. "S'up, keet-sah? Nervous about tomorrow?"

"Can't help it." Izzorah dragged the claws of both hands back through his hair. "This time, our contract-signing will be with Luc Saint-Cyr himself."

"The Man, huh?" Fletch sat on the other bed. "I hear he has android eyes."

"Nah. Solid black contacts cover his whole eye. I met Wulf Gabriel last year, when we signed our first contract, and he told me."

"Who's Wulf?"

"He runs Lucsondis for Mr. Saint-Cyr." Izzorah peeled down the covers and crawled underneath. He punched the pillow and pulled it under his chest. "They were lovers until a few weeks ago. Everybody's talking about it. It's all over the news. I feel sorry for both of 'em. They get no privacy."

"I'm gonna take a shower."

Izzorah covered a yawn and listened to the water running. It finally shut off, and the door opened, shut. Footsteps crossed the floor and Fletch climbed into the other bed. The light dimmed.

Fletch's voice came out of the dark. "Kumwhatmay know you like guys yet?"

"No. I don't get involved with fans. We don't talk about sex."

"How about the other thing?"

"Which one?"

Fletch rustled the covers as he turned over. "Your eyes."

"No clue." Izzorah lifted his head and angled his face toward his cousin's voice. "Which is why you're here. They can't find out, Fletch. Not after all I've been through."

"You've hidden it two years. Maybe ya oughta tell 'em."

"No. There are nights when all I think about are the ways I could screw up. I go over every detail of the set, every part of the stage. Meeting new people in a new place -- I can hardly breathe."

"Hey, I got you." Fletch knelt between the beds. "I'm not lettin' nothing happen to you."

Izzorah let out a long breath. "Thanks, keet-sah."

"You haven't called me keet-sah since you learned the Etymis word was cousin."

"Sorry, popped out."

"Felis is your cradle language. You're Kin. Not like you could hide pointy ears, claws, and fangs. Why hide your language?"

"Not tryin' to be human. I wanna blend in. Hate being stared at." Izzorah punched the pillow as he snuggled into the bed. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Is Tark bringing his family?"

A pang of sadness made Izzorah sigh. "Nah. His divorce went through while we were on the last leg of the tour."

"Oh, man. Suuuuucks!"

"Yeah. You're the only family who'll be there."

Fletch made a sound from across the room, and Izzorah snapped his head toward him. He hadn't heard Fletch move. Water splashed into a glass, gulping and a belch followed, then the clink of glass. Footsteps padded back to bed.

"G'nite, keet-sah." Fletch lay down. "Tomorrow's gonna be a great day."

Izzorah turned onto his side. How much longer can I keep this up before the group figures out I'm almost blind? I can't even keep track of one person that I know, let alone a roomful of strangers! He braced an arm across his churning stomach. Have to sleep. Gotta be my best tomorrow. He squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched. Sleep, Izzy! Sleep!

After a few minutes, Fletch mumbled in his sleep and started snoring.

Sighing, Izzorah sat up and hung his head in his hands. What's the use? I'm way too wound up. He headed for the shower.

Izzorah slicked his hair down with shampoo. On the road, there was never time to pick up Kin stuff that didn't have smells in it. Hotel generic-herbal stuff stank, but it was usually all he had, unless one of his cousins stayed with him or sent a care package.

He turned up the heat and turned his back, head tilted down so the hot water could soothe the tension in neck and shoulders. He lathered shampoo into his pelt, a thick band of fur covering the upper part of his chest above his nipples and up to the collarbone.

Human girls loved to play with it, but other than enjoying cuddles and kisses, he went no farther with fans. Let the others take on as many females as they wanted; no way Izzorah was letting on to Kumwhatmay he preferred guys. On his homeworld, the simple admission would get him killed. Maybe it was no big deal on Tarth, but if it got out to his Kin fans... He groaned and shook his head.

I'm no freer here than I was back home. Maybe if I let myself be seen with another guy in public... Yeah, right. Half the followers of Kumwhatmay are Kin. If I screwed up the group, then where'd I be? A drummer with no band. Great. He lifted his face to the water and let it wash away the sting forming in his eyes.

He rinsed, smoothing his hands down his body. He wrapped one hand around his sahm. Cock, he corrected himself, forcing the Etymis word into his mind.

They were on Kelthia after the last concert, and while the rest of Kumwhatmay partied, Izzorah hid out in his dressing room, claiming jump lag. He leaned against the door and slid down to the floor.

Alone. Again. Still. What I really want, I'll never have. Humans want dominant Kin lovers, not a submissive one.
The images he'd seen on Kin sex vids, of humans being taken -- not in cruelty, but with power, with concern -- yet taken, used, and toyed with like a precious, valued pet, made Izzorah groan, aching for a human lover who'd take him like that, if only for a night.

******

Out of nowhere, a human male gripped both Izzorah's arms and pulled him to his feet in one move, pinioning him to the wall like a trophy, hands at shoulder level, one massive thigh between Izzorah's.

Snarling, Izzorah released claws and bared fangs, but the man stayed out of reach. It was dark, and none of his features showed. Against this kind of strength and at such an angle, Izzorah had no defense. He forced his claws fully from their sheaths, but could not reach skin. Grunting with effort, he growled like a warrior.

"I won't hurt you." A whiff of mint revealed the human's amusement at his efforts, but there was no scent of enjoyment. Whoever he was, he meant no harm.

With abrupt resignation, Izzorah ceased fighting and rested his head against the wall. He gulped air.

"Very, very good. Obey, and you have nothing to fear from me." A hint of bread baked with cinnamon wafted into the air.

Contentment? Why? 'Cause I stopped resisting? I obeyed?

Naked, helpless in the man's hands, Izzorah shivered despite heat roaring through his body. He heard himself panting, felt the stretch of his cock thickening, balls heavy. He lowered his ears in submission, gaze down in respect. One did not meet a Kin warrior's gaze without permission, and what was this man if not a warrior?
"Hands above your head." The deep timbre of the man's voice sounded the way velvet felt on the fingertips.

The man gripped his wrists while Izzorah slid his hands upward. It opened his chest, spread him flat against the wall, and arched him toward the human. Like most Kin, Izzorah's skinfur was golden-hued, and the thick, almost mane-like swath of the pelt on his chest matched. His chest rose and fell, a cross between fear and desire making him pant.

The man held both Izzorah's wrists with one hand, and hovered the other over his chest. At last, he pet Izzorah's thick pelt. "Kitten soft." The man's scent deepened to paper so hot it smoldered; his lust bordered on pain. "Seeyoo, te ahsgah tsoh." He spoke like a native. "Teehh ke tu kahta vahss."

Hearing his own language spoken, Izzorah jerked up his head. Good, my male beauty, the man had said, using a formal term no rapist would use, and then, give me your eyes here. Does he mean "look at me?"

Izzorah obeyed, but darkness hid the man's eyes, as if they were solid black against black skin.

The man linked their fingers and leaned into Izzorah's body. Black gloves covered the hands holding him captive. The fabric of the man's coat and pants felt smooth yet rough at the same time. Big, big man. Tall as a Kin and muscled like one.

"Show me your fangs."

Flashing fangs at a Kin was an insult; didn't humans know? Izzorah bared them, licked the sharp points, which usually scared off bullies.

Not this man. "Seeyoo, good. You have perfect fangs. You could bite and make me feel it."

Izzorah opened his mouth wider and hissed a warning, but the man's scent of lust deepened, and he merely flexed his fingers.

"Seeyoo. Seeyoo, te tsoh dhoksi." Good. Good, my beautiful lover.

Wrinkling his nose, Izzorah drew in this man's scent. Clean, sweet truth. He really thinks I'm beautiful? He wants me for his lover?

"Now your claws, dhoksi. I want to feel them against my hands. Pierce the gloves."

Even a human should know better. In battle, a Kin's claws penetrated bone. He let them out of their sheaths and obeyed. Gently.

The man hissed with pleasure; desire emanated from every pore.

It brought Izzorah's cock to full readiness, drew up his balls, and sent a flush of heat throughout his body. He made no attempt to free himself. He was safe with this man. But why? How can I be safe when I've been assaulted, held captive, imprisoned between the wall and my attacker?

Because the man's scent held passion, joy, and no menace or threat.

"Stand on tiptoe and give me your mouth." The deep voice caressed, soothed. "I'm going to taste you."

Izzorah tilted back his head and rose on tiptoes to obey. He pulled back his tongue at the smoothness of the human's, not barbed and scratchy like a Kin's.

The man released his hands, cupped both of his around Izzorah's face, and bent forward, angling his head to slant his mouth over Izzorah's. A kiss of power. Relentless energy. Savage in need, but not in the way he kissed. The softest mouth, bold, taking, claiming every part of him, yet tender, as if he feared Izzorah would break if he kissed too hard.

Gripping the man's jacket, Izzorah dug in claws to pull him closer, used one hand to open the coat and bring their chests together. Silk against wet skinfur. At the feel of ripped muscle beneath the shirt, Izzorah pulled the cloth up and out of the pants, ran both hands over smooth, human skin, the ridged abs, hard and defined. No velvet covering like a Kin -- only a crisp tangle of short curls in the middle of his naked chest, trailing downward to pants and a belt.

The man wrapped both arms around Izzorah and cupped his hands beneath thighs, lifting and pulling him close. "Wrap your legs around my waist. I want your cock against mine."

Izzorah gave a moaning whimper, unable to resist whatever this man wanted, whatever he demanded, whatever he wished.

The powerful human braced both knees between Izzorah's thighs and kept on kissing as he ground their cocks against one another through his clothes. The merging of their mouths and sliding cocks filled every thought, every sense, every aspect of Izzorah's being, sheltering him in a cocoon of pleasure.

Izzorah nibbled the man's mouth, tasted blood drawn by fangs, sweet and buttery with desire, passion a honeyed cream. Izzorah couldn't catch his breath. He'd never dreamed it would be so good.

The man stepped back and let him down. Curling one knuckle beneath Izzorah's chin, he bent to kiss him. "I'll see you soon." He added another small kiss and turned to go.

"No!" Izzorah gripped his hand. "Don't leave me. Who are you? How can I find you?"

A glimmer of even, white human teeth flashed in the darkness. "I'm your destiny. Your warrior. I'll find you." He stepped back, disappearing into the darkness.

******

"No!" Izzorah pushed open the shower door. The brightly-lit room had filled with fog. "But...but it was so dark..." Had he been asleep in the shower? Three quick raps made him jump. "Who is it?"

"Who do you think? It's Fletch." His cousin knocked again. "Come on, keet-sah. Kory's bitching about it's time to leave, and I need to pee."

"Leave?" Izzorah ran both hands through his hair. "Hang on a minute." He turned the water off, flipped the door switch, and grabbed a towel.

"'Bout time. I was dancing out there. You been in here forever. Whatcha doin', keet-sah? Ohnahmeeyana?" The toilet flushed.

"No, I'm not whacking off." His cock felt as limp as if he'd already come. Could a fantasy make me...?

"You get any sleep?"

"Practicing." Izzorah hid his face and ruffled a towel through his hair. "Just got in the shower."

"Some day, you'll pull an all-nighter and miss a show."

"Never missed one yet."

Fletch double-checked his smooth chin in the mirror. "I'm going to the lobby. Turn right when you come out of the room and the elevator's ten steps on the right. I'll watch for you."

"Wah doh. Thank you." Izzorah toweled himself dry and ran fingers through his black hair to straighten it. It hung over his eyes and he flung it back. Close to the mirror so he could focus, he slid a finger across his mouth. His lips were as swollen and dark as if he'd really been kissed. With a shiver, he left the room and began to dress.

Comments

[kayelle-allen.livejournal.com]

yes it is. I was shocked when LI bought it! the second two books will be shorter. I promise, once you pick it up and start reading, the time slips away. One of my readers wrote that she was glad it was so long because it was like going home, getting to spend quality time in the Tarthian Empire. I thought that was so cool!

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

I know, I know, I like Wulf's story, so I know that I will like also this one. Elisa

[kayelle-allen.livejournal.com]

Wulf was the first of the Tales of the Chosen series, and each book revealed Luc and Wulf drifting further apart. They love each other, but (and there's always a but...) it isn't until Surrender Love that Luc actually sees how Wulf felt and how angry he has become with Luc.

Luc's eyes are opened, and we see more of his true self in this book than ever before. The new trilogy will each begin with the word Surrender, and then Love, Trust, and Will. Each book takes Luc and Rah deeper into these aspects.

Far from disappearing though, Wulf will have a major part as stories in the empire unfold. I suspect his new, upcoming role will take many of my readers by surprise. He's one of the few who's met Pietas, the lord of the immortals face to face (book three of the Chosen -- Jawk) and the terrifying encounter left Wulf with a permanent streak of white hair. It also gave him the final reason to walk away from Luc and into another man's arms. who that man is changes everything about the way the immortals' game of Peril is played, and who's on whose side. Old friends and allies change.

Although you can pick up any one of the books and read it all by itself, the undercurrent of history and the conspiracies simmering beneath the main story connects all of them. Reading them all connects the dots.

I have a small fan group for those who've read them all and have questions and theories about the various aspects of the stories. For me, it's a blast to talk with people who know the whole story so far. Anyone who's read all six of the books and is interested in joining this group should email me at kayelle@kayelleallen.com and put "Peril" in the subject.

I hope you enjoy Surrender Love. The excerpts you posted show how sensual the book is. It's also by turn, tender, funny, and brings back Senth and Khyff from my first two books. Senth, you may recall, was a gifted young thief whom Luc adopted and reared to be a professional. Khyff is Senth's half-brother and a fomer high-class male prostitute who's found his perfect princess and they are expecting twins. And of course there's a cameo with Sylk, the very young progidy who is beating every record in the Thieves' Guild. Senth (who formerly held those records) is his mentor.

I'm excited to be working on Surrender Trust, the sequel which actually picks up the night after Surrender Love ends. Many revelations and long-held secrets are shared by Luc with Rah, and a deeper sign of trust couldn't exist than knowing who and what he really is ... beyond being an immortal.

Okay, I'm going to shut up before I reveal too much. :)

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

You are welcome to reveal as much as you want LOL Elisa