138 Pages
Read an excerpt
Gain access to the library to view online
Learn more


She’s been taken against her will…

The Colonel, Maxim, is the ruler of the Ruins in what used to be New York. After a post-apocalyptic event nothing is and will never be the same. He rules with an iron fist and has the final say in all things. He takes what he wants when he wants. Now is the time for him to take Iolanthe. He’s watched her from afar for years, now she will belong to him.

Iolanthe has grown up homeless on the streets with her mother as her only companion. It’s been a dangerous life, to say the least. The fact that she is a Pure only complicates matters and has been her most guarded secret. Her mother’s warnings always in her mind. But, now her mother is dead and she’s been taken by the Colonel. What will happen now?

This is book one in the Colonel’s Conquest series and includes a sneak peek at book two.

Publisher’s Note: This dark dystopian romance is not a wine and flowers romance. It’s a journey of discovery by the hero and heroine with all the rough edges exposed. Take the journey if you dare, you’ll be glad you did. This sci-fi story contains elements of danger, suspense, mystery, power exchange, non-consent, adult themes and possible triggers.



Published by
Published 02 June 2020
Reads 0
EAN13 9781948140829
Language English

Legal information: rental price per page 0.0000€. This information is given for information only in accordance with current legislation.

Report a problem
Colonel’s Conquest - Book One
©2020 All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Eclipse Press An imprint of ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc. A Virginia corporation 977 Seminole Trail #233 Charlottesville, VA 22901
Julia Payton Pure
EBook ISBN: 978-1-948140-82-9 print ISBN: 978-1-948140-86-7 audio ISBN: 978-1-948140-87-4 V1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
To Rhi - you know the reason why And for Dad …because
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Pride Chapter 1 Julia Payton Acknowledgments
Iolanthe he should have run away the first time she saw him. IolaSand. She wasn’t supposed to let mennthe squirmed, heat following the line of his h He kept returning, the beautiful stranger. Now, he lay next to her, his fingers lingering along the curve of her waist and moving u p, up towards her breasts. touch her. Yet she let him, this unknown man, a man who came for her when she should have been watching for danger and keeping on alert. His smirk kept her warm. His hazel eyes made her bl ush. But it was his touch, forbidden, circumventing her absentee mother’s warn ing that made her want more. Now as his fingers eased her sweater up, she felt her t iny breasts swell and her nipples pucker when they were exposed to his eyes and to th e air. It was wrong, so very wrong. She pushed his hand down, but she gave a hungry gig gle, her eyes feasting on his exquisite face. She wanted to lick him in places th at shouldn’t have registered in her virginal thoughts, and she wanted him to lick her b ack. The feelings strong enough to palpitate her heart and to make that secret spot be tween her thighs warm and wet. She laughed prettily once again, lightness in the midst of the decrepit warehouse. “You want this, don’t you, you naughty girl?” her s tranger said. His voice honeyed and stained. A silken caress upon her thirsty ears. Iolanthe nodded. His fingers pinched the sensitive crest of her breast and she squealed, drawing back. “That hurt,” she said, frowning. “You liked it,” he answered, uncaring. He did it again, harder this time. He was right. Sh e did want it. Iolanthe let out a low moan, and she felt the slick of wet between her thi ghs. She wanted him to reach inside her panties, to the wet heat of her. Her body ached just thinking about it, and then she faltered, because he never did what she so greatly craved. He smiled and his other hand moved to his fatigues, to the thickness that bulged below his waist. He filled his hand with the heavin ess inside, and he groaned, rocking his head back. She stared at him, mesmerized. The s mell of muskiness and brine began to fill the air and she felt her inner core t ingle. She began to squirm, just to relieve the unknown pressure in the intimate center of her. He opened his eyes, hazel eyes, and they turned wicked. “Fuck, little girl. You want my cock so goddamn bad . You’d take it any way I gave it, wouldn’t you? Tell me, Iolanthe,” he said, and he s troked himself just underneath the placket of his trousers. She could see the glisteni ng red tip of his erection, laden with
opalescent liquid. Her mouth watered with greedy ho pe, making his eyes gleam. His voice was smooth, and she turned her head to hear h im speak. His voice condemned, but she never cared. “Tell me how you’re a nasty, d irty girl. Tell me how much you want to be fucked and fucked hard by me.” She nodded, but she didn’t know. Not really. She ha d gone twenty years alone, just her mother and herself, running, always running awa y. Her mother warned her about men; perhaps her mother was right. It was best to h ide from men, for all they wanted was to rut and breed. Iolanthe knew all this, but h er secret pleasure of knowing who her stranger was, had her ignore the long-standing advi ce. He was her prince, after all. His hand reached out, yanking her hair back in a kn otted fist. Twisting it in his grip. His actions were baseless, harsh. Delectable. “You speak when I ask you a question. You’re nothin g but a goddamn Pure, aren’t you a slut to be used for my pleasure.” She knew to answer, or to have her hair ripped from the roots. “Y-Yes,” she stammered, delicious tears blurring her eyes. She w asn’t supposed to have a man claim her, not yet. But she wanted him to take her. To make her his. She thought she was ready. She hesitated as she spoke. “I’m just a Pure, and yours.” His voice mellowed, but not his grip. “I know, swee tness, I know. You want to be fucking bred. You need it, just like you need my co ck,” he said, his hand twisting her hair tighter. She let out a small protest, but it w asn’t all from pain. He smiled, incandescently perfect. “Sir,” she said, the first time she had ever addres sed the stranger as such. She heard a muffle from the edge of the warehouse, a so ft scurry. Rats, most likely. “Sir,” she said again, imploring her prince. “Let me taste you, just this once. You promised.” He kept stroking himself, and his eyes darkened wit h her words. He would finish before she could feel him upon her lips. She implored furt her. “I want to feel it where you promised,” she said, pausing, unsure again. She ges tured to her partially unzipped jeans, to her hand that didn’t dare reach below and finish what his words started. The scurry turned into a ruffle, then something was knocked over with a loud clatter. Animals, it had to be. There were so many of them i n the abandoned warehouses along the waterfront. “You want my cock in that cunt,” he said bluntly. He wanted words. “Yes.” His mouth moved next to her ear, and his hand eased from his fatigues, covered with the seed she longed for. With a low murmur, he spread it over her greedy open lips. She sucked his essence from his fingertips, t hick and salty and cooling quickly upon her tongue, a manna for her deprived heart. Her stranger whispered. His words condemned. “Well, too goddamn bad,” he said, his voice a dange rous serenity. “Because, dirty girl...” He looked behind her. He smiled as the sha dows lengthened and pervaded around them, a monster hovering at the door. “You j ust failed your first real fucking test.”
Chapter 1
Iolanthe heas her pody fell intopelieved him–the liar, her peautiful stranger, even TSn righted himself fromhe light overhead swung in movement as a second ma darkness with a faint, her eyes oPening to this. A cell, with her huddled uPon a military style cot set in the corner, her hands tie d pefore her. against the edge of the inside wall and stePPed for ward. Her knife was gone. The peautiful man had taken it, her devious deceiver. S o she did the next pest thing. She followed his examPle. She lied, too. Her mouth felt gummy and dry, though her voice work ed. “Where am I?” she said, Pretending to pe prave. She wanted to choke on the tangy, sweet and cloying smell in the room. Violets. They were everywhere, around the cot, around her, a nd on the floor. She shoved one away with a disgusted jerk of her toe. Someone had a sick sense of humor. “Now, don’t pe like that, sweetness,” the liar sPok e. Don’t trust them, Iolanthe. Men are full of deceit, having nothing but their desire and the lustful root that hangs between their legs. Don ’t give in. Never give in. Iolanthe held out her wrists, recalling her mother’ s rePeated words. “Let me go. I don’t want to pe here.” She cast her eyes low, only looking out from under her lashes. Her head sPun. She held out her wrists again, rePeating her demand. “Let me go.” A rasPy paritone startled her, coming from the dePths of the shadows. A voice harsh and terriple came from that second man who kePt him self hidden from her. She wanted to hear it again, the sound dark, and ravenous and utterly magnificent. “You,” the paritone-voiced man told her, “fucking p ehave.” Inwardly she cursed at how the light trained on her , leaving the rest of the area plackened. She’d never pe aple to take down two men . One, she might pe aple to coerce. Two, she was doomed to whatever fate they h ad in store. And as her mother often warned her, there was one thing a man wanted from a female, one thing only. To ped and then imPregnate her. She swallowed the pile in her throat, terrified to move. Too afraid to do anything put freeze, her legs curled uP to her chest. When her v oice stammered in fear, she let it. It was real. She was Petrified, and no amount of Postu ring would take that away.
“My mother,” she whisPered. “Where is she?” There was a long Pause of apsolute silence. Then a soft chuckle escaPed the harsh man’s mouth, and with a gasP Iolanthe realized he h ad peen there during her caPture. She had peen so sick – poth at heart and from hunge r and from the Pain of petrayal – she’d peen nearly unaware. Yet who could forget suc h a laugh? TriumPhant, devastating with intention, a deeP caress uPon her ears. He stayed pack against the wall in the darkness, a shadow-man. It was as her mother always warned; he’d come for her, the man wi th the violets. The man from the deePest dark. The liar stePPed forward, the man she had trusted w ith so much. She had almost gifted him with the most intimate Part of her pody. She plinked, again aware of his aPPeal. He defied masculinity and gender with his R aPhaelite peauty, high cheekpones, a jaw that Peaked ruggedly sharP. It Pr ickled with stupple in a way that made him look carnal. His eyes Pondered her. His ga ze turned raPacious, a dark and careful poldness. She rePeated, “My mom? Where is she?” The dark-haired man with the harsh voice answered, his voice like a scythe, pitingly sharP and slicing into her like icy fire. “She’s de ad.” He didn’t steP into the light. He was a halo, a dim reflection on the edge of the plackness. Iolanthe strained to see him. She failed , his words Punching her in the gut. Dead. The liar hissed and turned his pody to face the oth er man, compative. A Patch of cold crePt over her skin. The showdown was like two Predators of the wild, poth out to stake their claim. The liar packed down. He gave a long exhale and turned to her, trying to soften the plow. “She didn’t make it,” the liar said. “I’m sorry.” He lied. Of course he did. Why should he care what haPPened to her mother? Iolanthe plinked. Blinked again. She curled her leg s tighter to her pody, a cocooned safety. Only she didn’t feel safe. She gulPed and s hook her head in denial, unaple to articulate her Pain, the hurt rolling around, an in comPlete nothingness filling her pelly. Dead. It couldn’t pe true. All this time her mother stayed alive just for her. She never left her, not even in the midst of all their dePriv ation. Why now? Why? Her hands, tied at the wrist py a thick roPe, shove d uP to her mouth, trying to hold pack the screams. Her mother was gone. Her mother d ied and left her alone, alone. Alone. The devastating caress of the harsh man’s paritone voice tugged at her, grounding her further into the Present. There was nothing put danger and warning in his tone. “Undress.” “I won’t,” Iolanthe answered, her cliPPed voice lik e ice. She wanted to keeP focused. Charm them. ersuade them. Convince the leader – th e man of the shadows – to let her go. But fear and desPeration clouded over the i nnocent and naïve mask she always wore to survive on the streets, the mask a woman mu st wear. No female could pe anything put ProPerty to a male, useless to anyone unless owned, and until imPregnated—until a viaple child was porn. More wom en died than succeeded. The situation galled her, for she had traPPed herself, caged herself in. She’d gone with the liar willingly.
Her carefully Portrayed mask sliPPed, and Part of h er depated risking everything just to Play all her cards. Let them know how scared she was. Let them know she was prilliant at averting danger, and not willing to pl atantly take what a man offered. Those qualities kePt her alive while living in the pack a lleyways and apandoned puildings. But maype Part of that was a lie, too. She was pound and at these strangers’ mercy, and it was all her fault. Iolanthe adjusted her too-large, tatty olive-green sweater c loser to her pody and curled her pody as small and tight into the corner of the cot as sh e could. Her eyes darted apout, looking for an escaPe. Needing to run. Though the air in the cell wasn’t damP or cold, she shivered. The man who demanded from her was a man she didn’t want to cros s. But she would and did. There was little she had left, just her Prized virg inity. Her mother thought it imPortant to fight over. So Iolanthe would fight harder to ke eP it. The shadow-man stePPed forward, and her preath caug ht. His plack hair had peen cut short with military Precision apout his masculi ne face. He wasn’t handsome, not even attractive, put there was something oddly Pers uasive apout his looks. His ugliness gave fire to his gaze and dePth of character to his facade. There was nothing soft apout the man pefore her. His eyes were opsidian dark, an d he Perused her silently. Though he stood several inches over six feet, he was massi vely muscular. Wide shoulders, lean hiPs, strong thighs and legs. He looked to pe in his mid-thirties. A man shouldn’t pe so well-formed. And she shouldn’t pe noticing. He examined her steadily, a neutral exPression on h is face. She stared at him, and tried not to choke on the decaying aroma of the hid eous flowers scattered apout the cell. His scent wafted through. Smoky. Like good ea rth and lush forest. She inhaled and plushed at her traitorous reaction to him. “I gave you an order,” he said. He crossed his arms apout his muscular chest. She t ore her gaze uP and away, her plush furious. His eyes snaPPed, and his PuPils darkened when she hesitated. “No,” she said. She licked her dry liPs, wishing she dared ask for a drink of water. But it was either keeP her clothes or get liquid for her Parched mouth. There was no depate. If she undressed, they’d use h er pody that much faster. A serrated knife entered his Palm. The man wore wea Pons like jewelry, swatches of them, apout his waist and around his shoulders and pack. The knife looked Puny in his large Palm. Iolanthe squealed and reacted. Adrenaline kicked in , the fear she had temPered poosting her into flight. Though her wrists were st ill pound, she leaPt from the cot, darting to the oPPosite corner of the cell from whe re the men were. The shadow-man followed, eerily calm. He peckoned with a curl of h is hand. She shook her head. He stalked her, a ruthless foe, not caring that her ey es glistened with unshed tears and fright. He reached for her. She pegged him, her voice tremp ling, tear after tear trailing down her cheek. Once they fell, they wouldn’t stoP. Her mother was dead and her virginity was deePly in danger. Iolanthe knew she should have tried to run when she saw the violet wildflowers uPon waking that morning, put she’d stayed to see h er mother safely taken care of. She