Pout Erotica

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Friday, December 21, 2007

On the ninth day of Kissmas...Lucynda Storey

The Captives Release

Lucynda Storey
Aspen Mountain Press

Blurb:
Women in Talone have freedom of choice in their marriages. Not so for Princess Finola who is being given, against her will to King Lacombe of Hamre. When she flees her lover finds her only for them to run straight into a group of Lacombe’s soldiers.

With her lover, Calder, taken to the dungeons, Finola is held captive and destined to join King Lacombe’s harem. Her situation is made worse by her intense physical fascination to the mysterious, masked stranger commanding the soldiers; a man who can touch but not partake...the man she calls ‘Broadsword.’

He hides the attraction she knows exists between them. Perhaps she can use her allure against him to escape and return to Calder. Then he reveals dark secrets about the man she thought she loved. Who can she trust...Calder or the impossible masked man who ignites passion deep within her? Which man will be responsible for "The Captive's Release"?




Excerpt


Her eyes opened to reveal his silken, yellow tresses framing his tanned
face. His long hair was tied at the nape of his neck, just reaching
his shoulder. She reached toward the thin, leather string that held it
back and released his hair. Among the people, especially mothers, hair
like his was an honor, a desirable gift of physical beauty. If they
could have daughters with hair like his, they would find husbands for
their offspring quickly.



Calder deserved it and every tribute he’d earned over the long years of
unrelenting, unthankful service. Working for her father had come with
a price.



His eye color, too, was held in high regard. She envisioned their
brilliant blue, which marked him as touched by the Goddess. Among her
people, he was the only one to have such eyes. However, none of that
mattered now. Calder was here, with her. The world, her world, would
certainly get better. He would apply reason to the knot her father had
created, thereby releasing her from her invisible prison.


“You’ve no idea how I’ve longed for you to be with me this night.”

“Aye. I think I do. I could not keep my mind from you once the sun
dropped below the horizon. I searched your rooms and when I didn’t find
you, I went to the king. Only I didn’t have to speak to him to know
what your heart told you to do, fair one. He and that buffoon from Hamre
were congratulating themselves on a well-made treaty, with you at the
center of it. I made a hasty departure without speaking to either.”

He lifted her higher into his arms and her flesh tingled in anticipation
of his kiss, his touch.


“Why are you here alone, Princess?”

“If my father would sell me to King Lacombe, no one could know I’d
left. He would find out immediately!” Finola looked into his eyes. “You
understand what this means, do you not?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve run from a possible tyranny worse than that
under which you currently live.”

“You know?” How could Calder know about the workings of Lacombe’s
kingdom?


“Aye, Hamre is ruled by an iron fist. A fist that resounds with the
torture of its citizens for the slightest offense. You are in great
peril. I cannot allow you to go to such a place.”


Finola rubbed her eyes. “What shall we do? I will not be a prize
heifer to be fought over between kings.”

She quieted, and waited for his response. His arms, unbreakable steel
bands, tightened about her. The silence of the forest echoed her
abandonment and betrayal at the hand of her father. “Calder, is there
nothing that can be done?”


“Aye, I can think of a few things. None of them pleasant, I fear.”

“What can be worse than being held in Hamre, as nothing more than
property? Even death is preferable.”


“Let us pray, Princess, that it will not be such an irredeemable
decision.”

“What then? What shall we do?”

His large hand stroked her hair. Longing erupted in her. She nestled
closely against his solid chest as he whispered, “Follow your original
plan?”



"You know my plan?”


“From appearances it seems you have no plan other than escape. My
darling, you have simply run away, with no plan at all. In that, I can aid
you.”


Finola sighed. Calder knew her well. He’d always been able to see
into her mind, from the time they’d been children, playing games of
strategy forbidden to women. She snuggled into him closer. “Why can’t my
father choose you for my husband?”


You know good and well her mind screamed. He has no wealth, no
elevated position of noble power. He was nothing more than a child captive,
given to an elevated commoner, the palace blacksmith, without a son of
his own.

Abruptly, she halted the discussion, before he could reply. “Let us
talk on this no further. I simply wish to be here, in your arms. The
morrow will take care of itself. We must be careful to make the most of
the moments we have together.” She wrapped an arm about his neck, and
pulled his head closer to hers. “Kiss me.”

Behind him, Finola heard the pop of an ember. In the dark, the noise
was loud and threatening. But Calder was here, her Calder. Closing her
eyes, she gave herself up to the sensation of his rough lips on hers.
She ran her tongue over the dry edges, moistening them before she
delved into his mouth. He tasted of tepid, tart wine and reminded her of
picnics in the summer sun.

His response to her wasn’t long in coming. “Is this what you wish
tonight, my Princess?”

Roaming the broad expanse of his chest with a free hand she searched
for the tiny peaks she loved to torment. Slowly, she stroked a nub
through the rough material he wore when he was on the road, ignoring his
question. “How was your trip?”

“You know,” he gasped, “I cannot reply to your questions intelligently
when you abuse me so.”

Slowly, she pulled up his tunic and allowed her hands to stroke the
warm skin underneath. “Love me.”

“A request or a command, my princess?”


"Both. I need you to touch me, as no other has.”


Calder laughed. “I should hope not. I would be forced to remove the
hands from the body of such a culprit.”

With agonizing slowness, he untied the cotton strings of her bodice,
releasing her breasts. They pebbled in the cool night air and she
anxiously awaited the feel of his mouth on her.

Calder had taught her much about being a woman. He’d pleasured her
often without compromising her honor, making sure their mutual
satisfaction did not come at the cost of her maidenhead. Oh that she’d given
herself to him long months back, that she was married to him, that she
carried his child in her womb. Then she wouldn’t have to be concerned
about being sold to the highest bidder or keeping an imaginary political
peace.

“Do not delay, my love. I grow desperate.”


His mouth conquered hers, forcing her to give up her assault on his
lips while one of his hands cupped her breast, and toyed with the already
hardened nipple. “I am happy to serve my Princess without hesitation.”

His whispered words sent chills through her. She moistened between
her thighs as she anticipated the sensations yet to come.


Tweaking his nipple, she responded, “As you should be. What other man
would dare to place his mouth where you have?” She leaned back in his
arms, giving him fuller access to her breasts.

“No other will dare and not pay the price,” Calder growled low in her
ear.

Even as delightful shivers ran down her arms, she wondered at his
words. How could he prevent Lacombe from touching her? She reached for the
string on his breeches and loosened them. Beneath the heavy cloth,
she could feel his maleness, hard and ready for her touch.


http://www.aspenmountainpress.com/more-hot-reads/the-captive-39-s-release/prod_53.html

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