18++ Craving Control can be read as a standalone, although it does contain small spoilers pertaining to the flashback scenes in Seizing Control, Black Shamrocks MC Book One.
Published: May 2nd, 2018
He’s the villain in the tale. The man who committed the most heinous of crimes. A monster of the highest order. He reigned supreme, seemingly unstoppable, until his power was stolen from him. Brendan Taylor, the politician’s only son, was tried and convicted for the damage he wrought, then jailed in the prime of his life.
Yet, he still couldn’t walk away from her.
Madelaine O’Brien, daughter of the President of the Black Shamrocks MC, was never on his radar. Their lives were on different trajectories until she captured his attention one fateful day and never let it go. It was as if the clouds parted and he saw the sun in all its glory for the first time in his regimented life. In that instant, she became his—and he would do anything to keep it that way.
His fate was sealed by his own actions.
Or so it seemed. Because little did he know, there was a plan put in place years ago. One that he wasn’t privy to; even though, his participation was paramount. Its success rested on his victory. On the one thing that Madelaine awoke within him. A man with a singular appetite. A hunger that had him CRAVING CONTROL.
Disclaimer: This story contains graphic situations that may not be suitable for all readers.
“Three, two, one. Happy New Year!” The countdown to the dawning of the brand-new year is shouted through a megaphone. The night sky fills with a kaleidoscope of colour and the loud banging and whistling of the fireworks disguises my approach from my unsuspecting victim.
With unyielding hands, I trap her between the wall and my body. Pausing for two seconds, I let myself luxuriate in her scent—roses, vanilla, and enticing innocence—and then I kiss her.
My movements are sure, unheeding of her stiffening frame. I push my tongue between her lips when she gasps and plunder the inner recesses of her mouth, smiling when Maddi’s knee lifts ready to take out my family jewels. Her reaction makes me grin. She doesn’t know who I am, exactly how big I am, what I’m capable of doing to her—yet she’s ready to take defending herself into her own hands.
Did I call her untouched perfection? I miscalculated. She may be untouched by the hands of man, but she’s not a pushover. I sense a wildness that’s going to be almost too much fun to break. Each time I peel back another layer of her personality, she proves to be more challenging than initially predicted.
This girl is going to become addictive if I’m not careful.
My muscles tense, ready to keep Maddi under control if she decides to use that knee on me. I’m not certain what makes her lower it, but I can’t say I’m not surprised when her body loosens, and she leans back against the building.
I pull my lips from her’s and whisper, “Happy New Year, Maddi.”
A sigh is the only response I receive for a long, drawn-out moment, [...]—Maddi returns my sentiments.
“Happy New Year, Brendan.”
That sentence is all I need. It’s confirmation that I have her where I want her.
Maddi O’Brien has just conceded defeat in a war she didn’t know she was fighting.
My movements appear coaxing, suggesting that she has a say in how this is going to play out. They aren’t. It’s simply the start of my next game. Now that I’ve made Maddi accept my proximity, it’s time to make her believe that what happens next is her idea. I use my strength to move her unwilling arms around my neck, then I pull her soft curves against me. All stiffness has left her. She is pliable, both in body and emotion.
I feel a shudder run the length of her frame when I kiss her again. This time, she is a willing participant. Her tongue touches mine. Tentatively. Testing. Inexperience evident in every move she makes.
The lights in the yard are switched back on, the bulb directly above us illuminating her blonde hair until it resembles a halo. Maddi pauses, but I don’t let her go. Instead, I distract her with my touch, making sure that she’s paying little mind to who can see us, and once I’m certain that everyone who counts—Hugo and my father—have seen us, I let her go on my own terms.
An emptiness invades my veins at her absence. I push the feeling away and smile at the beautiful woman I’ve now branded as mine. The flush on her cheeks, the redness around her lips from my kiss, awakens a ferocity in me that is foreign.
I don’t want to let her go. If I had my way, she’d be thrown over my shoulder and whisked away from every other person who inhabits this earth.
Strategically, what I do next is completely wrong.
But, it’s the only thing that tames the monster in my gut who’s trying to rear his head.
I bite Maddi’s shoulder. It takes every ounce of the control that I pride myself on possessing to stop myself from sinking my teeth through the thin cotton of her shirt and into her skin until it breaks. The urge to taste her blood until she accepts that she belongs to me is overwhelming.
I swallow it down and stake my claim verbally instead.
“You're so beautiful, and you're going to be all mine. I’m going to make sure of it.” This is the last thing I say to her tonight because I walk away before she can answer.
As I go, my brain screams at me, yelling that I’ve made a fatal error and scared her away. To calm myself, I watch my unsuspecting victim throughout the rest of the evening, and I’m eventually able to push that worry aside with the sight of Maddi regularly pressing her fingers against her lips like she can still feel my touch.
It’s evident that she feels branded by me and that’s a victory of the best kind.
About the author:
Kylie Hillman is an International Bestselling Author who lives in South Australia. After spending the past fifteen years regularly moving around the east coast of Australia, she has recently returned to her home state and plans to finally put down roots until her children finish school.
Wife to a Harley-riding, boating and fishing, four-wheel driving, quintessential Aussie bloke and mum to two crazy, adorable, and eccentric kids, Kylie is also a Crohn’s Disease sufferer and awareness campaigner. When she’s not writing, she can be found sipping tea while she literally “Netflix and Chills” or sharing her appreciation for heavy metal and hard rock music with her neighbours. As a devotee to the use of sarcasm and inappropriate innuendo, it is for the best that she chooses to venture outside her home only on special occasions.
Kylie is represented by Sarah Hershman of Hershman Rights Management.
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