a dark, luscious room.
drugged and taken with me is here, too.
come to see as a brother.
voice coming through the speakers, telling us we’ve both been chosen to die.
everything we’re told to do.
watch us. They want to be entertained. As she says, “I want to see you
we f*ck, or die.
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Hot, dark, and dirty. Just how I like my reads.
Best friends and surrogate siblings, Ivy and Noah have been kidnapped, Taken. Drugged and held captive in an opulent bedroom with no way out, they are forced to perform depraved and humiliating acts by a woman whose disembodied voice floats to them through speakers in the ceiling, threatening those they love if they don’t comply. Her audience needs to be entertained and Ivy and Noah are their entertainment.
Taken is part one in a short form (less than 100 pages) serial written in the first person single POV of Ivy. I loved the mystery that the single POV created. Only being in Ivy’s head had me questioning everything and everyone. And I love not being able to guess where a book is going to go. These authors did a fabulous job in that respect.
The chemistry between Ivy and Noah is electric, instant and—due to their sibling-like relationship—had a subtle but distinct taboo feel. The only thing that held me back from giving it a full five stars was that I needed more character detail. If there was a prologue or flashback that showed the characters previous to their abduction to get to know them and to illustrate the dichotomy of their current situation, I would be in heaven. And who knows, maybe we get that in the next part of the serial. *fingers crossed*
If you like dark erotica and aren’t’ afraid of a little gore, this is a serial you need to try. Tied, part two of the series is scheduled for release on July 25, 2017, and you can bet I will be reading it when it comes out!
Sweat beads at my brow as the breath whooshes out of me. I’m bent over, arms dangling down. Beneath me, the most delicious, hardest length I’ve ever felt presses into my mound. I want to rock against it.
I can’t move.
He won’t let me.
He keeps me like this, draped over his lap, immobile.
The sound of a strike reverberates throughout the room, but silence remains. No noise. It isn’t allowed.
Moisture drips from my every pore, and yet, I’m focused on this one drop as it gathers at the center of my forehead. Becomes bigger.
Everything’s out of control.
Hyper-awareness consumes my every breath.
I count to ten and it falls to the ground.
A small splat no one will ever hear. And yet, I do. The sound as it hits the floor causes my breathing to stutter and skin to prickle with goose bumps.
“The last ten, love,” Noah whispers, his hand massaging the heated flesh beneath his fingertips. It hurts, but the pain is replaced by a yearning so strong that I whimper in his lap.
Like a bitch in heat I arch and ask for more.
To make this burning within my veins stop.
With one hand he gathers the hair at my nape and forces my head back. A harsh tug—I’m in his control—forces my eyes to his. Hooded dark blue eyes look at me with concern, but behind their depths I see another emotion burning.
His want mirrors my own. This perversion is awakening something darker from within. It grows—chokes us, because behind it all we were meant to end up like this. My body at his hands. In his control.
Those hungry eyes look at me. Silent communication. Are you okay?
I blink back a please and the asshole smirks. Aware of what I need even as my mind fights the sins I have laid bare to his eyes.
My release is so close. A fresh round of arousal drips from my core and onto his boxers.
I’m positioned over his lap, ass up, and the very tip of his cock is against my hip. He’s hard. Jerks against me when I gyrate against his length.
“Please,” I beg aloud this time and his hold on my hair tightens. The hand kneading my ass cheek spreads me open to look at my depravity. At what his own hands have caused.
That thong, that minuscule piece of fabric, can’t hide what this game is doing to me. The evidence, slick and inviting, is on his lap.
I shift against his cock and he hisses. “Be still!”
A crackle follows his command and we both shiver. Each time it appears, things change, become more.
“Very good my pets, but the audience wants more. Lose the panties, but without her standing up. Be creative, and there will be a reward.”
I exhale shakily. “Do it.”
“Are you sure?” As the word leave his lips, those same fingers that a minute ago exposed me to his eyes, now hold my panties in his grip. He doesn’t wait for a reply. A tug follows his question, the sound of fabric stretching meets my ears, and I nod.
Another pull and I feel every welt that forms on my skin from the rough treatment. The sole sounds in the room are his harsh breathing and mine. Loud exertion, but at the same time desperate for more.
What else could I say? No. Please don’t?
It would’ve been a bullshit lie and we both know it. The voice commands and we follow. It asks and we accept our fate.
There’s a sick part of me that relishes in this madness. Craves him. My Noah.
We have been dealt our cards; there is no escape. We must accept our fate.
Either we fuck each other, or we die.
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.
As a small child, she was always intrigued by all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth-grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned.
Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn’t until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.
N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I. Lynn, and many others. At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.
That is until coffee came along and took over everything else.
Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the hopes of one day getting them under control.