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Editorial Reviews
Review
Five Stars :Dragonslayer- Goodreads: The story of love and loss and love again was heart breaking. There were a variety of interesting bondage scenes and the handling of the sadistic BDSM scenes vivid and well written. The sex scenes were hot and romantic and fitted well in an exciting story. I loved the twist in the end, but then normal is not what I expect from this amazingly talented author. There is a hint of a sequel in the last few lines. I hungrily await your next book Mistress Brown.www.goodreads.com/book/show/13450537-lord-master
4.5 STARS Two Lips Reviews
Lord & Master is a deliciously dark tale full of angst, intrigue, and amazingly hot sex. H.C. Brown has written a compelling story that was hard for me to put down. Not only is Lord & Master a must read, it deserves a place on your keeper shelf.
Lord Reynold Wilton, fearing exposure after a public argument with his sex slave, Lord David Litchfield, leaves England for the Americas. On his return, he finds his delicious man in the hands of a brutal sadist. In a time when homosexuality is a hanging offense, Reynold must use every trick in the book to regain the possession and trust of his young lover.
After inheriting a Georgian house in Berkley Square, London, Colt Daniels, millionaire art dealer, finds himself obsessed by a portrait of the home's former owner, Lord Alexander Swift.
During a conversation with author, Jake Williams, Colt discovers Lord Swift and his cousin had mysteriously disappeared from the cellar one evening, shortly after Alexander's illicit affair with the rogue, David Fitzhugh. Jake reveals Colt bears a remarkable resemblance to Fitzhugh.
Colt decides to investigate Alexander's strange disappearance and ventures into his cellar late one night to look for a secret passageway. When his flashlight fails, Colt finds himself transported back in time to 1775 and there he comes face to face with the man of his dreams -- Lord Alexander Swift.
Blurb:Lord Reynold Wilton, fearing exposure after a public argument with his sex slave, Lord David Litchfield, leaves England for the Americas. On his return, he finds his delicious man in the hands of a brutal sadist. In a time when homosexuality is a hanging offense, Reynold must use every trick in the book to regain the possession and trust of his young lover.
Excerpt:
Prologue
London 1769
A rush of pain radiated from Lord Reynold's clenched teeth and into his temples. The burn from over exertion raged across his shoulders. His sweaty grip slipped on the leather handle of the cane, a narrow strip of birch he had commissioned especially for discipline. With lust, he gazed down at his slave, savoring the crisscrossed, red welts marking the porcelain flesh, the raised prints of his hand on each tender buttock. He bent over the slim figure tied so deliciously on the bench, and licked each crimson cut, using his mouth to soothe and caress. Reynold lapped, enjoying the taste of sweet skin, the rise of gooseflesh under his tongue. The man's scent of soap mingled with the warm aroma of male sex filled his nostrils.
With the man tied this way, stretched out with both arms and legs secured, Reynold had complete control. The power of dominance surged through him. In truth, he could easily draw blood with his cane if he chose to, yet he loved this man and gave his slave what he craved. This session had been different from those long nights of bliss they'd enjoyed so often before. He needed to conquer his slave, to take back his role as master in a relationship teetering on the brink of disaster. With slow, deliberate moves, he stalked around the bench, running the cane over the sub's quivering body. He stopped at the head of the young man. "Why do you question my loyalty? I will not tolerate such behavior." He grasped a lock of the man's long, blond curls. "Speak."
"I am jealous, Master."
Reynold brought the birch down in two swift cuts across the slave's pristine back. The prone man's cry sent blood rushing to his cock. Christ, he loved to hear his submissive moan. He threw down the cane. "Of whom are you jealous this time?"
"Lord John, Master." The slave drew a shuddering breath. "I don't want you to continue your friendship him."
"When you are tied to my bed, I am the master." Reynold met the man's cornflower blue gaze. "I will not tolerate such demands from my slave. If you continue in this manner, I will have no option but to take my leave." He ground his teeth. "I warn you, do not think to use my devotion as a weapon to manipulate me to your will. If needs be, I will take a commission abroad to be rid of you."
"Reynold . . . I beg you—think of my feelings."
"You would have me weak?" Reynold dropped his breeches. "I think not."
"No, Master, not weak—never weak." David's gaze fell on Reynold's shaft. "I do not care to share you with Lord John." He licked his lips. "When you are in his company, I fear I will lose you."
Reynold growled. "I regret now confiding my relationship with Lord John Henley to you before we became involved. The man is a dear friendbut you are my lover. If you don't believe this to be true, the trust you claim to have in me does not exist." He sighed. "Perhaps it is you who wants to end our relationship."
"Christ, I would have no other touch me in this way, and you know this to be true." David poked out his tongue, and swiped it across the head of Reynold's cock. He moaned. "I beg your forgiveness."
"You have my forgiveness, but I cannot allow you to dictate which friends I have. You know I have no desire to fuck any of them. Arguing with me in public has already put us both under scrutiny. Christ, David we can't be seen together. The risk is too high. What reason would I have to be in your company?" Reynold stroked David's cheek. "If you cannot trust me,this time we have together—our relationship as master and slave, as lovers, will not survive." Reynold groaned. "I care for you deeply but I won't allow you to risk the hangman's noose because of youthful foolishness. I will not offer you another chance, do you understand?" Reynold tugged David's hair. "Do you?"
"Yes." David smiled. "Master, will you allow me to pleasure you? I crave the taste of your seed."
Palming his shaft, he guided it toward his slave's rosy lips. He sighed as the man's hot, wet mouth surrounded him with absolute bliss. He loved the way David's flushed cheeks pulled tight with every withdrawn thrust. Later, he would take the man's tight arse, and hear his intoxicating screams of delight. He could never have enough of his luscious young submissive. Reynold rolled his hips, his hands cradling David's, sweat soaked cheeks. Lord, this man knew how to take him to heaven. Tipping back his head, he plunged deeper, fucking the man's delightful throat.
This session with David had been brutal. Reynold wanted to stamp his authority over the young man. Of late, the possessive nature of his delicious sex-slave had become out of hand. David had grown too demanding. Reynold had no option but to take a stand. The submissive's teeth raked a path up his aching cock, the man's agile tongue flicking over the sensitive tip. Reynold bit back a groan and fell into the darkness of forbidden bliss. His slave's mouth became a whirlpool of ecstasy spinning him into an uncontrollable, shattering conclusion. Christ, David, for once, do as I say. Your jealousy is leading us down a path of damnation.
Chapter One
Three years later—London 1772
Lord Reynold Wilton opened his pocketbook and paid the tailor's account, grateful to be finally out of uniform. He met the gaze of Mr. Joseph Brown. The man had produced every inch of clothing he had worn since a boy. "Have everything else sent over to Spencer Street. There's a good man."
Donning the new hat he'd purchased from Locks in Bond Street, Lord Reynold pulled on his gloves and turned to look in the mirror. The new, delightfully comfortable, clothes fit well. Soft and fresh against his skin, the linen provided a welcome change from his stagnant, uniform shirt and stiff smalls. At last, after three despicable years, he resembled a gentleman again. The new clothes, ordered by letter some three months prior, had surprised him with their elegance. Mr. Brown had tailored each garment in the height of fashion, right down to the fine, lawn ruffles and silver buttons. White silk stockings and a cloak of the finest, black wool lined in silk completed his dress. He rubbed his chin and smiled ruefully at his reflection. The breeches stretched tight about his thighs and bottom, and Mr. Brown had pinched the jacket in at the waist to enhance the width of Reynold's shoulders. The cravat lay in exquisite folds. Dressed as such, in blue velvet, with his hair tied in a neat queue, he knew how men of his predilection would react to his appearance. Christ, I look like a peacock. In truth, his body had changed from soft to hard and muscular, but a commission in the Americas did that to a man. His face had altered too, but not in a bad way. He had not suffered any serious injury during his time abroad, but the man with haunting eyes in his reflection had replaced the innocent expression of youth.
Although, relieved by the sale of his commission and consequent arrival in England, his thoughts were not on returning immediately to his country estate in Surrey. Rather, he had spent the last two days in his townhouse close to Hyde Park, not wanting to endure the immediate duties of lord of the manor.
Lord Reynold stepped from the shop and glanced down Oxford Street. Nothing of note had changed in London during his time abroad with exception of women's fashion and the volume of carriages barreling along the dusty roads. He drew a deep breath to enjoy the scents of normality after enduring an eternity of stinking jacks and sweat. The smell of gunpowder and the unforgettable stench of a military camp had combined with horrors a man could never forget.
For three long years, Reynold had remained abroad. Christ, he had little choice. His role as master had become impossible after another very-public argument with David had threatened to expose them both. To avoid the scandalmongers and the chance of prosecution for the act of sodomy, he made the heart-wrenching decision to leave his lover.
Reynold stood for a few seconds to enjoy his surroundings. There had been a meager amount of birds brave enough to negotiate the noisy camps, and his heart lifted to see an abundance of sparrows feasting on a discarded crust of bread on the footpath. Above a blue sky peeked briefly through a profusion of white fluffy clouds. A stream of sunlight bathed a rose bush sitting in a large, yellow glazed pot beside the milliners next door. The rich perfume from the red blooms mixed with the pungent odor of horse dung squashed on the road. The hay infused clumps thrown in all directions by the constant stream of carriage wheels. Everything is so normal, as if no one knows a war of great proportions is looming.
Moving toward the curb, Reynold called out to his driver to take him to Charters, a gentlemen's club in Vauxhall, and climbed into the carriage. He sighed, rested his head on the back of the seat, and closed his eyes. A familiar memory flooded his consciousness. The vision of a young man, exceptionally featured, with a soft gaze the color of a summer sky, hooded with long, tawny lashes. He groaned, recalling his sweet slave's sated expression from hours of glorious sex. The young body so deliciously securedhis skin damp and flushed from his master's cane. David.
Genre: BDSM, Time Travel, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Erotic Romance
M/M, M/M/M, M/F, M/F/ M
Blurb:
Fane Jacobs, or 636, is a genetically and robotically enhanced human, trapped on Terros 9 in 3010 with a psychopathic owner, Gryd. His duty is to entertain Gryd's guests with his skill with the whip and his twin cocks. Denied satisfaction, his dreams are filled with the image of a sweet sub. Cyborgs have no rights on Terros 9. After his friend, Jace, is pack-raped by a group of male guests, Fane and Jace steal a starship, and travel back in time to Earth in 2040. Jace goes looking for a night with the right man, while Fane explores the city. He goes to the aid of a woman being attacked and is shot. The woman resembles the sub from his dreams. What will happen when the woman, Dr. Tamara Bright, discovers his integrated neural matrix and other enhancements on the Bio Scanner? Will she turn away or will she fall for the deliciously, handsome cyborg?
Excerpt
Jace turned toward the other end of the bar and sauntered through the swinging doors to join the gay doms. He ordered a beer, snagged a private booth, and then turned his attention to the dance floor. Oh yeah. How long had he fantasized having a sweet sub or two of his own? For one hour or one damn night, he did not care. He leaned back against the booth, inhaled the heavy scent of man, and checked them out. The Whips' house subs wore cute, gold whip earrings. They would be approachable, one-night-stand guys. Sipping his beer, Jace cast his gaze over the dancers. There were two barely legal, sweet things dancing together. He watched them sway to the music, their bare asses moving seductively under leather chaps. The dancers turned as one to reveal semi-hard cocks. Both men wore ball separators, and Jace's mouth watered at the sight of their red, restrained balls. His gaze travelled up to pierced nipples on hairless chests. One man had braided two long strands of his raven hair with beads in the style of an ancient warrior. The other had blond, cherub-like curls. Jace rubbed his cock slowly while its twin remained nestled inside, twitching for release. He enjoyed the caress of the leather against his naked shaft, and the restriction of the skin-tight pants heightened his pleasure.
His gaze travelled to the cherub. The man could move. His sexy, petite body undulated to the music. Jace sighed. That delightful bit of ass was not a house sub.Damn. Jace shrugged. What the hell—one night was all he would give this pair. Warrior Braids met his gaze. The man's eyes drifted down and stopped on the prominent bulge in Jace's pants. Jace moved across the floor and stood in front of the two men. "Get into my booth."
Jace turned and walked away. He paused in front of his booth to wait for the two subs to follow. Both men fell to their knees inside the booth, heads bowed. Jace ran his fingers through the cherub's curls. "Stand."
Drawing a deep breath, Jace met the sub's expressive, cornflower blue eyes. The sub immediately dropped his gaze. Long, brown lashes brushed his rose-blushed cheeks.
God help me, Jace thought. He's glorious. "Name."
"Lucian, master." He clasped his hands behind his back.
Jace could not remember seeing a sub so afraid; Lucian shook in his boots.
Why are you here, Lucian? Look at me. You may speak freely."
"It's my first time in the club, master. Dominic has trained me how to please you, master."
Casting a glance at Warrior Braids, Jace inclined his head toward the kneeling man. "You're Dominic, I assume?"
That's all I need—a sub trained by a sub. Jace ran his hands down Lucian's chest. He bent to pull at the nipple ring with his lips. Hell, he wanted to pet the sweet thing, offer him the world, and spank his delicious ass. Maybe tomorrow, after he had slaked his lust. He ran his tongue around the flat nipple, then trailed a wet path up the bare chest to Lucian's neck. He sucked at the throbbing vein there. Under his tongue, Lucian trembled, and a rush of air escaped his lips on a soft moan. Jace's cock began to throb. Fuck, the man's musky scent hit him like a potent aphrodisiac. He craved an innocent to train, but not tonight. Right now, he needed to dominate and take. Lifting his head, he gazed into Lucian's flushed face and shook his head slowly. Although Jace would no doubt regret not claiming Lucian's sweet ass, right now he had more pressing needs. "Go back to the dance floor," he told him, "and send me a house sub."
He noted Lucian's dejected expression.
"Have you tasted a flogger?" Jace asked.
"No, master." Lucian dropped his gaze.
Jace ran a hand through his hair. Too sweet, he thought. Too innocent. An accident waiting to happen. "Before you get into a scene, make sure you inform your dom about your lack of experience. Have a safe word and use it. Now go, I need some experienced ass."
Turning his attention on Dominic, Jace took the flogger from his belt and rested it on Dominic's bare shoulder. "You have broken a rule. Only a dom is permitted to train a sub. See the damage you've done? Lucian will get hurt; doms will expect him to know the different levels of submission. You've put that sweet sub in danger. He has no idea of the rules. I have a very special punishment for you, but for now—lick my boots."
Jace watched the dance floor; Lucian wove his way through the dancers, his blond curls glistening in the overhead lights. A few moments later, a small, fine-boned man with almond-shaped eyes headed toward the booth. The man wore a small leather thong and nothing else to cover his clear, unblemished skin. The sub's dark eyes met Jace's gaze briefly, and then the man dropped to his knees. Jace tapped him on the head with his flogger. "Name."
"Master, I am Lee, and I am experienced for your pleasure."
Lifting his chin, Jace inhaled the heavy musk in the room. Ah, nothing like the smell of pure, unadulterated sex. He looked down at the men at his feet. "What is your safe word?"
The subs glanced furtively at each other.
"We usually use challenge, master," said Lee.
Trailing the long leather tails of the flogger down Lee's back, Jace took in the sub's glossy, black hair and his soft, almost feminine body. Mentally, he began to plan the scene. His balls ached at the thought of having both of them. "Get up, and go to room three."
Jace followed the two men from the bar and down a dark passageway. The subs stopped partway down the hall. They stood to one side of a heavy, studded, wooden door and waited for him to enter. Jace brushed by the two blushing subs and entered the dimly lit dungeon. They followed obediently, and stood to one side, their eyes fixed on the stone floor.
With the door locked, Jace walked around the dungeon, lighting short, fat candles in the standing candelabras. The dungeon was better than he had expected. Chains hung from the ceiling. Benches, mats, and wooden frames of every description occupied much of the huge room's floor space. Whips and paddles adorned a wall. The heavy smell of candle wax and the weird, droning music completed the picture. Hell, everything to tempt a dom into action. Nice.
After selecting two pairs of cuffs from an assortment of gear on a table, he cuffed both men, then he stood back to look at them.
"Remove the ball separators." He waited until they complied. "Kiss."
The subs looked at him, mouths agape. Jace took a whip from the wall and cracked it. "Kiss and I want to see lots of tongue."
Jace opened his pants and stroked his shaft. Oh yeah, there was nothing like watching a hot, steamy kiss to kick things off and get the blood moving. He smiled. Dominic took charge and plunged his long fingers into Lee's hair to drag him closer. The kiss was intense, hot, and wet. Lee made little mewing sounds, and after a few seconds, they were both hard, their cocks rubbing together like sabers in a sword fight.
When bad boy alpha, Prince Dallin and his lover, Stryker, go 2000 years into the past to rescue Lailii, a Spellweaver, they didn't plan on being captivated by the petite, delicate female.
Strong willed and determined to survive, Lailii has no option but to go with the two stunningly handsome men. Within hours, she finds herself in a world of big cat shifters and sizzling, uninhibited sex. Betrayed by a king to whom she owes no loyalty, she struggles to survive and acclimate herself in a strange, new land. And when a demon follows Lailii into the future, Dallin and Stryker must work together to keep their new lover safe.
Excerpt
Stryker followed Dallin from the great hall. His stomach unclenched. Lady's blood, he had met King Leopold. The leader of all the Prides within the lands of the Twelve Gates had accepted him into his home. The days of sneaking from the barracks to meet Dallin were over. Gods, be praised.
With a grin, he took in the man walking beside him. The crown prince was the epitome of a Vane, the ruling Pride of white tiger shifters. Massive in build, he walked with authority. Black hair fell like water to brush his shoulders The silken mass framed a face only a god could have created, to hold amethyst eyes flecked with green and silver opalescence. Stryker's gaze dropped from Dallin's broad shoulders to his trim waist, and then down to strong thighs cased in a skintight material, woven by the Fae to resemble leather. He knew the feel of those strong thighs pressing against him. One whiff of his lover's unique scent sent him into rapture. He touched his lips at the memory of Dallin's demanding kiss. The taste of the prince lingered on his tongue.
"Do you mind if I see her alone?" Dallin stopped at the top of a flight of stairs. "I have some crawling to do."
Drawn from his thoughts, Stryker blinked. He cleared his throat and met Dallin's gaze. "Sure. I'll hang around and wait. What do you think the king has planned for us at the waterfall?"
Stryker nodded in agreement. "I agree, but it's after the mating that troubles me. My father insists all will be well, but do you honestly believe one female will satisfy us both?"
"After we bite our chosen mate and she us, all desire for another will fade." Dallin placed a hand on Stryker's shoulder. "It is the Lady's way. Once our childseed is released we are bound to one female for life."
They moved along a passageway with windows down one side. At the end, two guards stood to attention. The open door to the king's solar revealed a large, opulent room. The queen sat beside a massive, marble fireplace, her feet encased in red slippers supported by a large, blue silk cushion. She glanced toward the door, and her face creased in a wide smile. Dallin threw a mischievous grin at Stryker and strode into the room, closing the door behind him.
The guards' stony expressions remained neutral; only their eyes flicked toward Stryker. He turned and rested his head on the windowpane. His breath clouded the view of the spectacular rose garden below. With a sigh, he straightened his shoulders and looked out on the familiar landscape. So much had happened since his father sent him to train as a warrior in the king's army. Well, in truth, the king offered him the chance to ride with the elite Vane Patrol after he defeated six of his warriors in a mock battle. Stryker grinned. At eighteen, he thought he was invincible—until he met Dallin.
Friendship followed the long training sessions at Vane Castle. Stryker's heart missed a beat. The memory of becoming Dallin's lover was still fresh in his mind. He grew hard, and turned away from the guards. Hell, that night had branded his lust meter for all time. Okay, like most Pride males of their age, they liked to share females, rolling off one and then onto the other. That night, only one female came to Dallin's bedchamber. The thrill of them taking her, both at the same time, had blown his mind. The first brush of thighs, the touch of cock against cock, and then the first hot, wet kiss had sealed their fate.
