Marcus Free Rein Novels & Stories

I was still their slave. I bartended at night to make money for them. Every cent I earned was taken by the werewolf assigned to shadow me. “Leave me some for transport,” I begged, grabbing his sleeve. He kicked me hard in the stomach. “What the hell do you expect with that pitiful amount?” I curled on the ground, pain exploding through my body. “Don’t forget why you’re here,” he sneered. “You’re here to borrow money from the Lycan King—for your freedom. You know what happens if you fail.”

Anomaly. He was alive. He was moving. And he was heading away from the city, into the barren wastelands beyond. The garden’s response was immediate and dismissive. A single Reaper was dispatched from a nearby outpost to reacquire and repurpose the stray asset. It was a trivial matter. I should have let it go. Marcus was a relic of a dead world. A variable that needed to be smoothed out. But as I watched the Reamer’s blip on the map move to intercept his, something broke inside me. A final, desperate act of rebellion.

"R-Release me!" I tilt my head. "No." Marcus widens his eyes, then panics, throwing himself around like a worm in the air. "Fuck!" Marcus utters. "If you don't put me down, then I will kill you too once I'm out of here, and let's be real—you don't have the guts to end me! Release me, Dior!"

It had been sitting on my table for a week. At least that day was less tumultuous than the others because Markos was absent, meaning I could clean his penthouse without shaking or hurrying because of the scenes Markos put on with his whores. They were whores because they allowed Markos to have sex with them for one night and swap them for other women the next day. They had very little self-respect. ‘Coming from the girl who would jump in his bed the first chance she's given.’ A voice in the back of my head said.

"Marcus please listen to me! He's manipulating you into being obedient! Think about your dominant training, everything I taught you about safety and consent, Adrian isn't following any of it. Because he doesn't care about you at all, he's just using you." "Shut up!" Marcus breaks out into more loud sobs which makes me stay quiet. He's broken. That's it. No more fighting back. No more shouting at Adrian. He's become Adrian's slave.

Breaking Free-- An emotional novel about a young expecting mother trying to break free from the pain of her past, while being on the run from her abusive ex. While running from danger, with nothing in hand, Katie bumps into handsome navy seal, Kaleb Song, who promises on his soul to protect the woman and her unborn child from any endangerment that is lurking around the corner. Will Katie break free from the pain and fear that her ex caused her, so that she would be able to trust and fall in love again?

“Such a perfect, needy little vacation toy. Tied up and dripping for us like a good slut.” Marcus stands at the foot of the bed, stroking his thick cock. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you look right now. Helpless. Wet. Ready to be used in every hole.” I tug at the silk. It holds firm but doesn’t cut. The restraint sends a rush of heat through me. This is dangerous. Reckless. I’m a grown woman on a solo trip, not some anonymous whore for a rich couple. But the freedom of it — no one here knows my real name, my job, my stresses — makes me wetter than I’ve ever been.

I looked down at the words I had written, lines about resilience, about the absolute necessity of maintaining an iron core when the world attempts to reduce your value to zero. A shadow fell over the page, large and comforting. Marcus stepped onto the balcony, his powerful frame framed against the brilliant blue sky. He had completely abandoned the structured discipline of his corporate suits, wearing only a pair of slate-gray linen trousers and a crisp, white silk shirt left unbuttoned at the throat. He looked relaxed, yet the lethal, unyielding strength that lay just beneath his skin was as palpable as ever. "A rare sight," Marcus rumbled, his deep, gravelly baritone vibrating in the quiet

Marcus groaned in satisfaction, drinking in her scent, prolonging her orgasm until her legs gave out. Only then did he rise. His cock was freed — thick, veined, leaking. Freya stared at it, still trembling. He pressed her against the private booth wall, rubbing the fat head of his cock slowly up and down her oversensitive slit through her soaked panties, coating himself in her cream. “Beg properly,” he growled. “Please, Marcus… Fuck me. Ruin me with that cock. I need it so badly.” With one powerful thrust, he buried himself balls-deep.

But I feel like I've turned into a walking list of restrictions lately. Marcus grinned, the twinkle in his eye hinting at mischief. "Well, you know what they say about restrictions," he said playfully. "They're just guidelines waiting to be broken." I raised an eyebrow, curious despite myself. "Oh really? And what guidelines are you proposing we break?" I asked, trying to keep the smile from spreading too wide. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, for starters, maybe we could sneak into a little bit of forbidden dessert," he said, his lips quirking up in a mischievous grin.