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  Mine & Yours

  Lea Griffith

  Dominated Hearts, Book One

  He’s returned for the one thing he can’t stay away from. She’s waited for the one thing she can’t give up.

  Force Recon Marine Sam has come back home to Camp Lejeune to find the pieces of himself lost in warfare. He’s hoping to find her. Praying she’ll be waiting, Sam’s worried—it’s been a long time. But he’s determined to do whatever is needed to get her body back under his command and her heart in his hands.

  Zoe knew the rules, knew what it would take to hold onto her Master, Sam. But then he left and all she’s done is count the days she’s been without him. After all the waiting, Zoe’s worried—did he forget what they shared? Not if she has anything to say about it. She’s willing to do anything to get his hands back on her body and his soul safely joined with hers.

  A Romantica® contemporary military BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Mine & Yours

  Lea Griffith

  Chapter One

  Sam tapped the polished walnut-brown wood of the bar twice and waited. It didn’t take the bartender long to slide a snifter of amber liquid his way. The half-filled shot glass wasn’t nearly enough to drown the last year of warfare and strife in but it was a solid start.

  Music pounded his eardrums, hard and raucous, the sounds echoing inside his body—even his blood thumped in time to its beat. This particular bar on the outskirts of Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, catered to Marines and the women who flocked to them like flies to honey. Both parties were looking for a good time—one to work off the rigors of battle, the other to soak up the sheer presence of an alpha male.

  Whatever your flavor, you could find it in Tiggy’s. All colors, sizes and brain capacities frequented the establishment—it was a smorgasbord of the opposite sex. Sam remembered his last trip here and grew warm. He tossed back the brandy before him, savoring its burn as it hit him square in the gut. Much as she had their last time here. His hand clenched on the leaded glass and he set it on the bar with a hard thump.

  He’d come back here tonight for her. He wanted to work off more than the rigors of battle—Sam wanted to find that piece of him he feared was lost somewhere in the jungles of Africa. There was a very good chance he’d lost it completely. If by some miracle she was here or came in later, would she welcome him as easily as she had last time? Or would she look through him to another Marine, one not quite as hard or solemn as Sam had become?

  A flash of fire caught his eye and his gaze sought out the source. Was it her? There and gone, he squinted, trying to see through the throng of people on the dance floor. A trick of the light perhaps?

  Tiggy, the very large, very black retired Marine for which the place was named, had added some kind of crazy-assed strobe lights and a brand-new floor that matched his bar. Trying to accommodate a different crowd maybe but it was easy to spot the groupies and the men they had their eyes on.

  He turned and tapped the bar again. There was a snifter waiting for him. He turned a questioning gaze to the bartender, who shrugged and said, “Lady said to hook you up.”

  “What lady?” He winced as much from the sharpness of his voice as the goose bumps that rose on his arms.

  “Real pretty little thing, long blonde hair, big blue eyes. Said to make sure you got it before you went all growly.” The bartender shrugged again and went to fill another order.

  Sam scanned the crowd before him. Probably just a groupie wanting a midnight ride but maybe…

  A flash of moonlight this time and his eyes zeroed in on his target. His breath caught and something wicked moved through him. Ass swaying in jeans so tight he wondered if they’d been poured on her—there was no mistaking the rounded curves and dips of her body. Blonde hair, huh? Didn’t matter what color her hair was, Sam would recognize her anywhere.

  He tossed back the brandy she’d sent him and unfolded his big frame from the barstool. It felt like he’d aged a hundred years in Angola. He’d left the States whole, happy and looking forward to the future. He’d returned in pieces.

  And Sam had no idea if she could handle who he’d become. God, he hoped so. His memory of their last time had kept him alive on more than one occasion. He wanted her like he wanted his next breath.

  Her hips moved side to side and that long blonde hair made his hands tingle to grab onto it. His breathing tight, his jeans even tighter, he made his way to the floor.

  Zoe’s stomach jerked at her first sight of him. He’d changed in the past year in ways she could not only see but feel. His gaze held a brutalized look she hoped she never completely understood because to do so would be to mire down in the muck he’d been forced into.

  He seemed taller but a bit thinner, ragged around the edges. Oh, he was still a beautiful man. With broad shoulders, slim hips, long, strong legs and the face of an angry god, he was singularly the best-looking male specimen she’d ever seen. He had the ever-present scowl in place, but he looked…incomplete.

  Would he recognize her at a glance? She’d dressed to impress knowing instinctively he’d be here tonight. Raleigh Owens, her best friend, had called last week giving her information she’d been waiting on for what felt like forever. Sam’s Force Recon team was due back in the States after a tour in Africa. Raleigh was waiting on her own Marine to return and since she worked on base she had access many did not to the comings and goings of the teams.

  Zoe had been here every night since, waiting. Tonight as she’d put on her jeans and a silk tank top her stomach had flip-flopped and she’d just known. Yeah, tonight was the night. She knew he wouldn’t come to the apartment. She’d have to be the one to seek him out—that’s just the way the game was played. When he returned from a mission she found him at Tiggy’s.

  Was she stupid to keep hunting him down like this? Did it matter? She shook her head, admitting to herself that it absolutely did not.

  She’d allowed him exactly four drinks, afraid that if she let him have any less he might be more resistant to her plans. Sam Allmand wasn’t one to relinquish control. In fact, he always had the upper hand. She needed him so badly—but she wanted to direct the pace this time. Would he let her? Would he even come to her? Her body quivered with need.

  Chills raced up Zoe’s arms, raising the hair at the back of her neck. His gaze was on her and she wondered if he’d made the leap yet. She braved a glance in his direction.

  Her breath stopped in her throat and excitement damn near stopped her heart. His chest was two inches from her face and she slowly brought her gaze up. Her vision blurred but she refused to let the moisture betray her.

  She’d worried about him so much. Every night he’d been gone had been an eternity. Unable to sleep, she’d scoured TV news channels and the internet, never finding any information but always hopeful. When she’d been able to find sleep it’d been plagued with dreams of him in danger.

  Did she have a right to those fears? Yes. Their bond allowed her that. Add in the fact that he was flesh and blood and she had yet another reason for concern. He was a strong man but he was still a man.

  He’d laugh at her worries, she was sure, but now wasn’t the time to discuss them. Now he was right there, so close she smelled sandalwood and male, felt the heat he threw off like a furnace. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at her, his midnight-black eyes slightly mocking as he cocked an eyebrow.

  Her heart kicked in her chest. She mimicked his action, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder and crossing her arms underneath her breasts so they plumped and threatened to spill out of the confines of her tank top. She could push a little, couldn’t she? She’d pay for it later, she was sure, but the punishment would be sweet. Or not. She cocked a hip but could not contain the smile
that broke over her face.

  Joy flashed through her, so sharp and pure she could taste it. Absolute and unquestionable, it was the flavor of sunshine and honey. Her nose flared as she reached for his scent and pulled it in. Her nipples peaked and her breasts went heavy. Moisture pooled low and she felt it dampen her panties. Wait, she wasn’t wearing panties.

  Come to think of it, her pussy was completely bare. That was the way he preferred it.

  The DJ picked that moment to put on something slow, some love song that had a heavy low beat with a rhythm that made you long for a bed and another body on top of yours. He stepped closer, lowering his arms and touching her for the first time in a year.

  Time vanished. It was if he’d never snuck out of bed that last morning. Her body recognized his, sought contact, and she released a shuddering breath as her arms lowered and wrapped around his waist.

  Her head found sanctuary on his muscled chest and her hips cradled the hardness outlined by his jeans. His heart beat heavy beneath her ear, her own synching to the cadence. He knew how to dance, hips shifting from side to side, brushing against her lower abdomen and causing a fire that threatened to burn her so sweetly.

  Zoe had danced with him here before but this was different. He shuddered and her body echoed the movement as need rippled through her. His own was reflected in the tightness of his grip riding low on her hips and the way his eyes lowered, covering the flame in his eyes. His olive skin stretched over his cheekbones, his mouth more of a teeth-baring grimace than a smile. His nostrils flared as she watched.

  She licked her lips, suddenly parched for the taste of him, needing his flavor on her tongue, inside her. She reached up, fearful her plans were going to be for naught. She’d never be able to master the desire long enough to play. Maybe if they got the first one out of the way, she could do what she wanted.

  He leaned down and she leaned up, desperate to feel his lips on hers. He stilled, hovering over her like a stone. She sighed. They stood completely motionless on the crowded dance floor as their breaths mingled. She arched and pressed her breasts against his chest, rubbed slightly, trying to ease the fullness. She wanted his hands on them, kneading and loving. She wanted his lips, nuzzling and sucking…biting.

  Zoe wanted Sam like hell on fire but it was his move to make. She’d come here and that in itself was the offering. She’d waited a long time and she’d done it stoically.

  No, as much as she wanted him, he had to be the one who moved next.

  Goddamn, she was beautiful. Blue eyes shining with unshed tears and desire, creamy complexion flushed with her need, her soft skin radiant under the multicolored lights from above. She was a vision of loveliness. She was a radiant gem among a collection of tarnished silver and burned gold.

  Sam had hoped she would be here. Prayed. And she was. She’d come to him when many women would have long since cut and run. The past year faded, the screams of the dying, the cries of the starved and tortured—it all faded under her gaze and his chest expanded.

  She did things to him. Made him feel things he didn’t understand—hell, had never understood. She made him want. For a man used to control, that was dangerous. To hold something as precious as the woman before him took a lot of balls. To keep hold of her took something alien to Sam. Something he’d never dreamed he had.

  She shifted against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, the hardened points a clear indication of what her body needed from his. He couldn’t kiss her here in Tiggy’s. He’d started to and stopped, afraid if he tasted her lips he’d be unable to keep from taking her right here in front of everyone. His body was taut with need, his dick a hard spike against the constriction of his jeans.

  This was nothing to be shared with the eyes of others. What he needed from her was personal. And though this role-play between them was their way of reconnecting, what he demanded was not something she’d give in front of others. A shiver worked its way up his spine. He ground his back teeth together.

  Not the place, Allmand. Not here.

  His hands clenched on her hips. He heard her swift intake of breath and wondered if he’d hurt her. Did it matter? His body recognized relief was but a breath away, could be found easily in the hot recesses of her luscious body. His stomach roiled with lust as a bead of sweat worked its way down his brow.

  In a lot of ways this was worse torture than what he’d undergone in Africa. He’d been changed. Hell, he wasn’t even in the same headspace he’d been in when he left a year ago.

  What would she think of the scars on his body? Was he too ugly to hold her beauty against him? Was he too hard to cradle her softness? Would she give him everything she was like she had all the times before? Or would she reject this Sam who was so different from the man he’d been a year ago?

  So many fucking questions and he needed her now. He managed to pry his hands from her hips, bringing them slowly up her sides, grazing her breasts and finally, fuck, finally touching her skin. Her neck was soft and his fingers moved over the rapid pulse at the base of her throat, stroking, pressing, asserting pressure so she’d know he was in control.

  He’d seen the flash of desire in her eyes, knew deep down she’d hoped to control him tonight. Wasn’t going to happen. He was too close to the edge right now. Maybe after a few releases he could give over and let her play but his body needed relief. And his soul needed her submission.

  The slow song ended and he cupped her face, bringing her unflinching gaze to his. He tried to communicate with his eyes and his hands everything he wouldn’t be able to voice in the middle of a loud, crowded bar. The words he would say paled in comparison to the only two that mattered. And right now silence was best for everyone.

  She lowered her gaze, clearly sensing the darkness that prowled under his skin. She grabbed his hands gently and kissed his knuckles, flicked her tongue over them, her caress silk against the roughness of his skin. She gave him permission with her action and he took her hand, nodded and turned to lead them out of the bar.

  “See y’all later!” a woman yelled. Sam ignored the person, intent on one thing—getting her under him.

  They made it outside and he stopped short, glanced around. He’d hitched a ride here from base. Did she have a car? He looked down at her.

  She pointed to a darkened corner and he groaned. A big four-wheeled beast of a truck, black as the night around them and so high off the ground he wondered how she’d climbed up into the bastard in her tight jeans. He lifted a brow in her direction and heard her giggle before she lowered her eyes again.

  He wanted to roar at the primal lust that sank its fangs into his balls. The sound of her laughter both soothed his savagery and stoked his desire. She’d become all things to him as he’d lain torn and bruised in the jungle. He needed to hear her give him the word. That single necessity replaced the music that had thumped in his bloodstream. The night around him enhanced it.

  Hot, intensely humid, moist—all the things she would be before he finished with her.

  Sam picked her up, unwilling to wait any longer to get her home and get his dick buried inside her. She squeaked but settled against his chest with an ease that made him shake. He had a moment’s remorse for what was coming. Before the night was over he might very well lose the one thing that had kept him grounded, that kept his soul anchored to this world.

  By sheer force of will he made it to the truck, setting her down and holding out his hand for her keys. She held them up and laughed, the sound husky, sexy. She was her own light in this darkened corner of the lot. Her chest rose and fell, her breasts playing peekaboo with him underneath the creamy silk tank top. She wore heels that gave her a few inches and lined her up perfectly with his body. He was a big man, she was a tiny woman but she fit against him just damn right.

  He pressed her back against the side of the vehicle and she inhaled unsteadily. Someone opened the door to the bar and watery light flickered over her features, illuminating her blue eyes and the come-hither look on her face. He angl
ed his hips for maximum contact and pushed forward with his pelvis.

  He took a deep breath and it was infused with her scent. He licked his lips. “Has anything changed? Do we need to renegotiate things between us?”

  She groaned as he came into contact with her denim-covered pussy. Her eyelids lowered, hiding her gaze from him but her mouth was open and it was pure fucking temptation.

  She laughed and it was low, throaty. “Nothing’s changed. It’s the same as it was the last time and all the times before that.”

  Then she shoved away, wagging a finger at him and punching a button on the remote for the truck. He growled then, couldn’t help that it was low and mean and he wondered if the emotion that flashed through her eyes was fear.

  It took him a few seconds but he managed to wrangle control over his demanding dick and he set her in the truck, hopping in beside her, thoughts running through his head at Mach 1 pace.

  He could fuck her here. Right now. Nobody would know. Nobody would interrupt. His face must have given him away because she scooted toward the passenger door.

  His skin rebelled at the distance. He reached over and pulled her right back beside him as he started the engine and pulled out. “You’ll fucking stay where I put you.”

  She lowered her head and placed her hands on her knees, immediately responding to his tone. It was the only thing that saved her in the moment. Nothing had changed, she’d said. Those words freed the beast inside him.

  He made it to the apartment in less than fifteen minutes. Normally, it was a thirty-minute drive. Luck or providence, it didn’t matter. His cock throbbed like an open wound and he wouldn’t have any back teeth left, he was grinding them so hard.

  He parked, jumped down and reached for her. She was right there and once her feet hit the ground she took off, pulling him behind her as she quickly made her way up the steps to the apartment.