
When she is captured and thrown into a cage filled with ravenous vampires, Gwen assumes she will be devoured. But among the horde is a huge, terrifyingly powerful berserker who has other plans for her. She will belong not only to him, but to all of the vampires of his triad, and her beautiful body will be theirs to use and enjoy as thoroughly and shamefully as they please.
Gwen soon learns that her new masters will demand obedience from their little human, and it isn’t long before her defiance has earned her a painful, humiliating spanking. But even with tears still running down her blushing cheeks, her helpless arousal cannot be denied, and as she is claimed and ravaged again and again her pleas for mercy are soon lost amid her cries of pleasure.
Publisher’s Note: Claimed as Theirs is a stand-alone novel set in the same world as Taken as Theirs. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Buy link: www.amazon.com/dp/B08VGTLMG2/

Excerpt: Naked, one arm twisted behind her back, Gwen stumbled down the spiral stairs. The stench of stale urine and filth stole her breath. The cacophony of hisses echoed toward them, chilling her soul. Red eyes peered through the
darkness.
Focused. Hungry. Inhuman. Fixed on her.
A huge natural cavern spread before her, colder than the North Pole. Iron bars stretched across its narrowest point, each thicker than a bodybuilder’s thigh. Mold crept from algae-covered puddles and stained the rock walls.
One glance at the red-eyed, skeletal mob penned inside and her knees buckled. Goosebumps erupted over her naked body and her stomach churned. Pressed against their cage, blood-starved vampires waited, fangs bared as they howled for fresh meat—for her.
Darkness blocked her vision until only the smell of neglect and dirt remained. Bile rose in her throat. Her muscles trembled like half-set Jell-O, and she struggled to breathe. If her captors tossed her in with those monsters, she’d be toast. Well… vampire catnip. Whatever, she’d end up dead.
The fat warder’s breath came straight from a pigsty. His celery-stalk–thin friend sported enormous boils on his cheeks and hands. Don’t these creeps understand personal hygiene?
The way Fatso groped her exposed breasts made her flesh creep. Until today she’d delighted in her Marilyn Monroe curves, but around this pervert, she felt dirty and ashamed. When the boil-covered guard unlocked the entrance, hungry blood-drinkers surged forward.
The other guards approached the cage, nightsticks swinging. The prisoners howled, wrapped their arms around their heads, and dropped to the floor. Weakened by their hunger, they were no match for well-fed soldiers. Wary now, they backed off and formed a semicircle, penning her in the entrance.
Watching.
Waiting.
Drooling.
For her.
Fatso released her arm and whacked her between her shoulder blades. Her breasts bounced as she stumbled farther into the dark cavern. Behind her, the door shut with a clang. The sound of the oversized key turning in the lock sounded her death knell.