I love to tease. I'm sure y'all know that by now. So I'm posting the first half of Delancey Sorenson's (unedited) Prologue today and the other half on Thursday. Doubling your pleasure means doubling the fun! I hope you all will come back and finish what I - and my characters - have started.
XOXOXO,
-Mia
Delancey Sorenson’s Dom had trained her well. He’d groomed her for every scene, readied her for every situation. He’d taught her how to carry herself, how to present herself, and explained how to handle whatever he or anyone else threw her way. And still, he’d never—could never have—prepared her for this moment, the moment when he pushed her away.
“Do it.” Delancey wrestled the order through clenched teeth. “Kiss her.”
Righteous fury, cold and deadly, pounded through Delancey. Her husband and Dom stood across The Edge’s lounge with a breathtaking blonde submissive kneeling on the plush gray carpet in front of him. The blue-eyed witch’s body was fully exposed, her head bowed and her gaze downcast. She looked completely at ease before Thane.
Delancey observed the two of them together. She couldn’t help the sliver of jealousy skittering along her ramrod straight spine. They looked perfect, a golden couple, amongst all the dark woods and seductive shades of crimson surrounding them. But the truth of it was, they didn’t belong together. Delancey owned Nathaniel Sorenson, every bit as much as he owned her. And unlike Thane, she didn’t share. With anyone.
“You want me to believe we’re through, Thane?” Delancey refused to use the ever respectful Sir or Master right now. He didn’t deserve the honor, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction that came along with such a revered title in their world.
Delancey’s pointed defiance clearly wasn’t lost on Thane. His brilliant chartreuse eyes flashed at her, challenging her to continue yet daring her to stop and take his inevitable punishment. But Delancey wasn’t one to back down, even from her dominant husband. She kept pushing. “You want me to give back my ring and my collar?”
Thane’s mountainous body stiffened as though he’d been struck with a switch fresh cut from a tree. His big as boulder hands fisted an inch from the thieving sub’s softly sloping shoulders. But he didn’t touch her, and he wouldn’t. He’d never betray Delancey. Never.
“That’s exactly what I want.” Thane spoke loud and clear with just enough authority to be authentic—to someone who didn’t know him. But Delancey did know him. And she didn’t believe his lie, not for a second. He was protecting her.
Stupid fucking Doms and their goddamn God complexes.
“Then prove it to me. I want to see you kiss her.” Delancey nearly added fuck her. But even she wasn’t strong enough to force out those two words. No woman could touch Thane intimately, not and live to see another day, not even in the hypothetical.
Thane’s eyes shuttered before drooping closed. His nostrils flared visibly as he inhaled and exhaled. The crowd gathering around them kept their rapt attention focused on him rather than her, a fact for which she was grateful. Even Thane’s best friend, the Dom he often shared Delancey with, Sebastian Blackwell was smart enough to not intervene. He maintained his distance, just watching, and he held his breath, presumably waiting to see what Thane did and how he reacted. He’d step in, if she needed him to. Of that, Delancey had no doubt. But she didn't need him to, not for this. This was between her and Thane. The others, though, were there for the show. They were waiting to see who Thane chose—his wife or the witch. Little did those people know, the mighty was falling, and the poaching sub didn’t stand a chance.
~Untitled (The Doms of Kinky, Kansas Book 2)
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