Falon's Captivity
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I didn’t know what was worse anymore — when he opened that door, or when he closed it.
How many times had I wondered? How many minutes had I counted until they’d fallen away in the blackness, as unmoored, lost, and hopeless as I felt?
But there wasn’t time for that.
The only thing that mattered was figuring him out. What was he really after? What did he truly want?
For the thousandth time, I cursed my stupidity, my hubris, my idiotic conviction that I could pull this off. It was a cruel irony of fate that a single, impulsive, split second decision could profoundly influence the rest of a person’s life.
However long that might be.
I missed clothes — real clothes — not the all-access outfits he made me wear now. No, what I was allowed was little more than decoration, embellishment of the physical attributes of his new found toy.
How much more of this could I take? How much more did he intend to put me through?
What was the end game, when he finally got what he demanded?
I already suspected, deep down, that there could only be one end to this, a single conclusion to what this had become. My strength was ebbing away. I couldn’t deny it any longer.
What was the worse though was the temptation, the increasingly appealing prospect of simply...surrendering.
And giving him what he wanted...
Publisher's Warning: Intended for mature readers. 18 and over only!
Contains MFM menage, pervasive BDSM themes, and sexual situations.
NOTE: There is no sexual interaction between the males in this story.
Keywords: alpha male, spanking, contemporary romance, suspense, dark romance, psychological thriller, organized crime, dominance and submission kidnapping, captive fantasy, capture fantasy, strict hero, older hero/younger female, May/December, HFN, domestic discipline, cop hero, intrepid reporter, dark secrets, total power exchange
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A USA TODAY bestselling author, Trent Evans specializes in several flavors of BDSM erotic romance and erotica. Putting pen to paper since he was a wee lad, he decided to try to share some of the tales cooked up in his fevered imagination. Some readers might not be horrified at what he writes. He tries to write stories that appeal to both women and men (wow, threading the needle), but will follow wherever the story takes him.
A long-time resident of the Pacific Northwest, the author believes that the high percentage of authors in the region (compared to the nation as a whole) is chiefly due to the fact that it’s so damned wet and miserable there. They tend to use their long hours cooped up inside spinning yarns that depict things they’ll never see or experience — such as sunshine.
