Two hard military men take on different, but equally deserving heroines in the latest releases from Loki Renard and Ginger Darcy ( also written by me, but representing a more erotically intense line of work.) Read exclusive erotic excerpts from both titles in this newsletter!

The Ranger and the Runaway is a hardcore erotic tale of a girl who desperately needs a firm hand and the man who is all too ready to give her one. After a series of personal tragedies, Sandy finds herself running from everything and everyone - until she runs into Travis, an army ranger who saves her first from a gang of attackers, and then from herself. 

The Handler is the story of Sonya, a young soldier engineered to lay her life down for the government who created her. After the death of her previous commander, Sonya refuses to follow orders and is classified as non-compliant. Jax is assigned to bring her back into line, which he does with a whole lot of hard spanking and a touch of much needed tenderness which Sonya has never known before. 

 

---

The Ranger and the Runaway 

The Ranger and the Runaway.

When eighteen-year-old Sandy returns to her hometown for the first time since running away from her horrible foster family, she doesn’t expect to find herself cornered and accosted by lowlifes outside a seedy bar. A burly, handsome Army Ranger coming to her aid is an even bigger shock, especially when he calmly informs her that she ought to be spanked for being in that part of town, then slips away into the night. Determined to see her rescuer again, Sandy gathers her courage and sneaks onto a nearby military base hoping to find him.

Protecting a woman in need is one thing, but Travis certainly can’t put up with a silly civilian girl trespassing on an army base just to see him. He starts to send her home with a stern lecture, but when she slaps him across the face and then makes a run for it, he decides it is time to teach this feisty girl a lesson she’ll never forget.

Within moments after he catches up with her, Sandy’s bottom is bare and she is getting the spanking of her life, a punishment which leaves her cheeks blushing, her bottom burning, and her body quivering with desire. Travis doesn’t hesitate to give her exactly what she needs, and she soon learns what it means to be taken hard, long, and very thoroughly by a dominant man.

Despite his better judgment, Travis cannot help falling for Sandy just as she has fallen for him, and before long their lust for each other is coupled with a passionate love. But when Sandy is kidnapped by a man set on using her to get to him, will Travis defy his commanding officer and take it upon himself to track her down and bring his girl home safe?

Click here to download a sample to your kindle, or buy this book on Amazon!

Newsletter exclusive sample from The Ranger and the Runaway:

“Did you not understand me?” He glowered down at her. “I told you not twenty-four hours ago to stay away from here and what do you do? As soon as the sun goes down you come running on back. You didn't listen to a word I said, did you, Sandy?”

“I listened,” she said with a little pout. “I just... missed you.”

“I said I'd come see you, didn't I?”

“Yeah,” Sandy admitted. “But I wanted to see you sooner than that.”

Dammit. How was he supposed to punish her for liking him? He had to remind himself that he wasn't about to smack her behind for liking him, but for disobeying a direct order.

“You've got to learn to be patient, Sandy,” he said. “I can't have you running around the base whenever you feel like it. It's damn dangerous, and I told you that.”

“Yes... but...”

“The only butt I'm interested in is yours,” Travis frowned. “You don't seem to think about your safety ever. Lets see if I can give you a reason to next time.”

She let out a yelp as he hauled her up and then across his thigh. There was a large rock handy to sit on, perfect for putting a deserving young lady over his lap. Sandy didn't put up much of a fight, if anything she seemed pleased to be pressed so close to him. She had a cute butt, which he exposed by yanking down the jeans which didn't fit her all that well. Sandy really did dress like some kind of forest lost boy, but once her butt was bared, her shapely feminine figure became quite evident.

“Travis, come on, what are you doing?”

“You know what I'm doing. I'm giving you the spanking you deserve,” he said, swatting her bottom. He should have done it harder, but her backside was distractingly adorable. She had round cheeks, nicely toned from running amok in the woods on her own for months on end. The lightly furred mound of her womanhood drew his eye, a neat little pouch exposed by lightly parted thighs.

“When I'm done with this, I'm marching you back to town, you're going back to your friend's house, and you're going to stay there where you're safe.” That said, he started spanking her. His palm damn near covered both her cheeks when it landed. It was a little unfair, he supposed, to be punishing her when he was almost as pleased to see her as she had been to see him – at first.

She wasn't pleased anymore though. She soon started cursing at the top of her lungs, throwing out whole chains of swear words which called his parentage, legitimacy, manhood and sexual proclivities into question. He'd never expected to hear such things outside a barracks, let alone pouring out of a mouth of a sweet little blonde.

“Cut it out, Sandy, or I'll gag you.”

“What am I damn well supposed to do? It hurts!”

“Unless you want half a dozen soldiers out here whacking your butt, you'll keep it down. You're making enough noise to put the whole base on alert.”

“Then don't spank me!”

“Oh I'm going to spank you, girl,” he growled down at her. “I've never met anyone who needed it more. Coming out here into the woods at night, wandering into a restricted area for the second time...” he didn't bother listing her sins again, he just started spanking her again, his palm landing in crisp swats against her reddening cheeks.

She managed to quiet down a bit, muffling her squeaks and yowls by biting on the loose fabric of his pants. Eventually she stopped bucking quite so much and started squirming. He couldn't help but notice a familiar feminine gleam coming from between her pussy lips. She was getting wet again – and he had been hard from the moment he'd bared her bottom.

What happened next was as inevitable as a flame bursting from a struck match. He wanted her more than he'd wanted any woman before. She was intoxicating, a misbehaved nymph who blossomed with arousal whenever he touched her.

Before long Travis was no longer spanking her, but stripping her. He removed every inch of clothing from her body and let his mouth travel from her pert breasts to the valley between her thighs where he tasted her desire for him in flowing juices which became increasingly copious as he lapped at her lips,

She lay back on her scattered clothing, her fingers running through his hair, her quivering thighs spread wide. She was gorgeous in the moonlight, her naked body spread out before him. Travis couldn't believe that she was really there. She wasn't supposed to be there, of course, but he already knew that Sandy was the sort of girl who never followed orders or played by any kind of rules. That meant he was going to have to be damn strict with her – just as soon as he finished making her orgasm at the tip of his tongue.

Sandy gasped and moaned and her hips bucked back and forth in his hands. She pushed back against him, her pussy seeking his lips with ever more desperate motions as she got closer to cumming.

“Sandy, no,” he said, lifting his mouth from her mound. “You don't cum until I tell you to.”

She let out a little whine of complaint, until he slid two fingers into the tight clenching channel of her pussy. Her cunt wrapped around him eagerly as he curled his fingers up toward the top of her pussy, finding the little nub of her g-spot.

It wasn't really fair, given his demand that she not cum. When his lips met her clit he felt a tremor run through her body and her pussy clenched around his fingers hard. She was cumming, against orders. A devilish smile crossed his face as he flicked his tongue over her clit, prolonging the pleasure until her moans turned to whimpers.

“One.”

“One what? One woah!” Sandy let out a squeal as Travis returned his mouth to her pussy. This time he was not so gentle. His fingers were still inside her, he added a third and pressed them deeper, then lashed his tongue over the rock hard bud of her clit.  

She began to squirm and squeal as he forced another orgasm hard on the heels of the first. She gasped her way through a short, fast climax before reaching down to try to cover her clit.

“Uh uh,” Travis chastised her. “You wanted to cum, you're going to cum, Sandy. Over and over again.”

“Wha?”

“That was two,” he said, drawing his fingers slowly out of her pussy. He let them linger outside, massaging the wet puffy entrance of her body for a few moments before sliding back in. He pushed in and out with long, slow strokes which increased in tempo and force as she arched her back and began to moan over and over. Her eyes were closed tightly, her abdomen clenched as she tried to take yet another orgasm. Oh she was a greedy little thing.  

---

The Handler

The only thing more formidable than an advanced super soldier is the man who tames her. Jax is a handler, a man tasked with the most dangerous job in the world - keeping genetically engineered ultra soldiers under control. He does his job very, very well through a combination of natural strength, some synthetic implants, and an iron hard approach to discipline.

Sonya is an ultra soldier, a talented young woman with a bratty streak a mile wide. Unfortunately for Sonya, her old handler just died and she doesn't like the new one very much at all. Jax is a strong believer in long hard spankings as a consequence for bad behavior, and Sonya is a believer in getting away with damn near everything.

The grieving young woman and her new master clash in a series of erotically charged confrontations during which Jax makes it abundantly clear that she is his in every way possible. He takes her pride, her arrogance and even her virginity.

But an ultra soldier is made for war, and when Sonya is called to the front, she goes gladly, having no idea that she is being sent on a suicide mission.

Jax knows better, but is powerless to save her from her fate - or is he?

For Jax to save Sonya, he will have to go to the ends of the earth and the gates of hell. And for Sonya to survive, she's going to have to learn that there's more to life than rebellion and war.

Click here to download an extended sample to your kindle, or buy this book on Amazon!

Newsletter exclusive sample from The Handler:

“Try the soup,” he suggested. “It's good.”

She looked as though she very much doubted that, but she did try a little, sticking the tip of her tongue into the bowl.

“Ith hot,” she decided.

“That's why you use a spoon,” he said, drawing her attention to the utensil on her plate. “The soup cools much faster on the spoon than it does in the bowl.”

She smirked at him. “You're trying to make me human. Putting me in a house. Giving me a spoon. I'm not like you, Jax. I never will be. Ultras eat rations from a tube. We don't use spoons. We don't drink soup.”

“You're more like me than you think. Now eat your dinner, or I'll spank your bottom for you.”

Sonya laughed.

“I mean it, my girl,” Jax said firmly. “That's an order. Drink your soup.”

“Never been ordered to eat before,” Sonya said, playing with the spoon. “Never used a spoon before. Never done soup before.”

“Quit stalling,” Jax said, using a gruffer tone.

Sonya dipped her spoon into the soup, lifted it and then held it above the soup for a long moment.

“What are you doing?

“Waiting for it to cool,” she said. “This could take some time.”

She was being naughty. Again, this was something new. Most ultras would have been outright defiant. But she was playing around the edges of obedience, seeing where the boundaries where. And she had found one.

“Right,” Jax said, sitting back on the couch and patting his knee. “Come here.”

Sonya stood and approached him. It was obedient behavior, aside from the fact she still had the spoon in her hand, full with soup.

“Put the spoon down,” he instructed.

She dropped it. Right on the rug. A splash of soup spread into the fibers and she gave him a smile which told him she knew precisely what she'd done.

“Brat,” he growled, reaching for her. He pulled her over his lap and began swatting her bottom hard and fast, his palm bouncing against the light fabric covering her cheeks. “I will not tolerate naughtiness from you, Sonya. You will do as you're told or you will have a very, very hot bottom.”

“My bottom is approximately twenty-nine degrees at its surface,” Sonya replied. “Quite comfortable.”

“It won't be comfortable soon,” Jax informed her.

“I have an increased tolerance to discomfort,” Sonya shot back. “The last spanking you performed was not significantly painful. Your palm is not capable of causing me any real distress.”

“Mhm,” he stopped for a moment and smoothed his hand over her cheeks before pulling her pants down and baring her backside. “Do you think I could make it significantly painful, Sonya? If I were, say, to use an implement of some kind on your bottom?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted.

“Do you think, then, that this might better be taken as a warning? That perhaps this is a sign you should modify your behavior instead of taunting me?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted again, her cheeks squirming as her hips slowly moved against his thigh. She was becoming aroused again, he could scent her blossoming juices. The sight and the scent made his cock rise in his pants. It was going to be difficult to give her any kind of pure discipline when every time he laid a hand on her bottom, they both became aroused.

Pushing through the temptation, Jax put more force into the slaps landing on her bottom. Sonya needed discipline first. To give into sexual temptation so soon would be to let her get the idea that sex was a way to avoid discipline.

“You let me know when you're ready to eat your soup,” he said, swatting her cheeks hard and fast. Her bottom was certainly more than twenty-nine degrees now, he could feel the heat building on her cheeks and in his palm. It probably didn't hurt, but it was enough stimulation to get her attention.

As her bottom reddened, and still she did not give in, Jax realized he was going to have to go ahead and escalate the discipline. The first thing that came to hand was a wooden hairbrush set out on the coffee table. Its placement there was no accident . He had prepared the house for her arrival and there were innocuous implements placed throughout.

He picked up the brush and smoothed the back of it over Sonya's cheeks. She made no obvious response, aside from the continuous squirming. Jax bought the hairbrush up, then swept it down swiftly against Sonya's backside.

The result was a squeal of surprise.

“Much less pleasant, no?” Jax repeated the treatment on the other cheek. “I don't want to have to thrash you, Sonya, but the level of discipline you receive is determined by how you behave. Are you learning any kind of lesson?”

“I am learning that you are very attached to soup,” Sonya said, her tone deadpan but her intent so obviously teasing that Jax almost couldn't bring himself to swat her again. This was no doubt why Edward had been so reluctant to discipline her. She was smart, and she was sweet, and though she was dangerous by virtue of what she was, she did not intend any harm.

“You should be learning to follow orders when they're given,” Jax said, swinging the hairbrush yet again. “We may not be back at base, but that doesn't mean you don't have to obey me.”

“You,” she said. “I hardly know you.”

There was a certain amount of pain in her voice, mixed with defiance. Yet again, Jax hesitated. Was he expecting too much from her? Perhaps. But to let her get away with something now because he felt sorry for her would only do her a disservice in the long run. With that in mind, he laid three hard swats to each cheek until half a dozen had been delivered to her quivering red rump.

To say that Sonya was not pleased at the treatment was an understatement. Before the last swat landed she began growling and her body became tense, two signs that she was withdrawing to a combative state. Not ideal at all.

“Cut it out,” Jax said firmly. “I'm not the enemy. I'm your handler.”

“You're NOT!” She shouted the last word and pushed herself off his lap with a burst of strength. Her mood had shifted whirlwind quick, almost catching him by surprise. There had been warning signs though, the physical stiffness, the ongoing resistance. And now she was making her stand.

---