[Siren Classic: Erotic Historical Romance]
Isabeau of Artenzia intends to punish Kendrick, Duke of Kent, for atrocities committed against not only her country, but against her as well. She captures him in the heat of battle and seduces him, keeping him at arms length so he knows he'll never have her fully.
She ransoms him back to his brother, the Prince of Wales, but on the day of the hand over, a bloody battle ensues and the tables are turned. Kendrick captures Isabeau, and the heat and desire smolder between them, especially during Kendrick's "punishments." Can Isabeau keep her heart from falling beneath DESIRE'S PROMISE?
"This is a prequel to THE WARLORD'S WOMAN. I wanted to get to the depth of Alexander's past to see how he became the man he was in The Warlord's Woman. His parents are fiery, strong-willed people who will stop at nothing for those they love. I was asked when the book first came out years ago if there would ever be prequel. Now there is. Who knows, maybe I'll follow one of Alexander and Catherine's descendants to present day!" ~ Tracy ~
A Siren Erotic Romance
Sounds of merriment and mirth filtered through the door and caused her already-nervous heart to beat erratically. You may never meet him. She snickered. With any amount of luck, she could avoid him altogether.
Margaret turned and patted Isabeau’s cheek. Isabeau read the rising anxiety in Margaret’s normally steady hazel gaze. “Are you ready, Isabeau?”
She nodded. “Aye.”
Margaret cast her gaze toward the page and tilted her head. Dressed in the livery of Castile, the pages bowed and opened the door. A wonderland of white transformed the dining hall. Long pale linen-covered trestle tables had been decorated with garlands of blanched flowers beaded on the front. Dark bunting decorated rafters above. Snowy petals wafted downward and covered the stone in pale light. Isabeau reveled in the beauty of her home. Suddenly, her stare fell onto the three huddled forms in the corner past the thicket of revelers. Father engaged in deep conversation with two men. A man just short of Father’s height stood to his right. The stranger dressed in the finest purple tunic with delicate embroidery around the hem and sleeves. Soft brown curls decorated his head and hid part of the glimmering gold crown. An air of friendliness radiated from him. Isabeau felt no harm, despite the fact she did not know his identity. Isabeau turned her attention to the austere man on the other side.
His handsomeness caught her off guard. Her mouth dried up as she drank in his dark beauty.
He possessed hair of the darkest pitch, flowing down the breadth of his broad shoulders. Ebony material wrapped around his widely-muscled chest as if it belonged there all the time. She looked to his arms. They appeared twice as large as a normal man’s, the fabric around them flexing and moving with each motion.
His body tapered down to a narrow but strong waist. Black breeches covered his mammoth legs before disappearing into his onyx-colored, leather-laced boots.
Get a hold of yourself. He is just a man like any other. She drew a ragged breath in order to calm her jangled nerves. If only she could retreat to the safety of her chamber.
Before she could move from her spot, her father noticed her and closed the distance between them, the two men in tow. “Isabeau, I would like you to meet Prince Edward of Wales.”
Her father’s voice pierced through the logjam of her thoughts. What should she do now? Without another thought, she bowed quickly and extended her hand for the prince. “Your Royal Highness. It is quite a pleasure to meet you.” She looked for Margaret, but her sister had already disappeared in the crowd.
Prince Edward picked up her hand with gentle fingers and held it to his lips where he kissed the back ever so sweetly. “Enchanted, my dear. ‘Tis been a while since I have been in the presence of a truly beautiful woman.” His gold-flecked eyes peeped out from a dense fan of lashes, The intensity of his gaze washed over her. She wanted to pull her hand away, but manners dictated she could not. I wish he would stop staring at me so.
Her father turned to the large mountain of a man next to him. “This is Kendrick, the Duke of Kent.”
Isabeau curtsied to him, but kept her gaze averted. “Milord, ‘tis a pleasure to meet you, as well.”
Before she could extend her hand again, his fingers gripped it and brought it to his lips. He pushed back the pointed curve of her sleeve and exposed more of her wrist. “The pleasure is all mine, milady. Perhaps you will save a dance for me.” Rich, masculine tones washed over her. A hot spasm shot through her privates as her womb convulsed. Why did she feel this way around him?
The Duke’s lips brushed the back of her hand and moved to her naked wrist. Her skin burned where his tongue flicked out to tease the flesh. She peered into his face. His dark, hooded eyes reminded her of a hawk, ready to hunt its prey. Strong cheekbones rested beneath those dangerous orbs and bespoke of his aristocratic heritage. Lips, no doubt experienced, curled upward at the corners with a seductive motion. Her knees buckled. Desperately, she tried to focus on something else to keep her out of control, and her emotions at bay.
Dark wavy hair brushed his brow and draped either side of his ruggedly handsome face. The strands glistened under the torchlight with an almost blue color. Slight tremors of excitement coursed through her as she pulled her hand away from his kiss. Never in her life had she encountered a man so exquisite in form and proportion. I must not think of him in this capacity or all of my control is lost.
Despite the assault on her senses, she kept her demeanor cool. She would never fall for any man, especially this one. “Mayhap I will, milord. If you will pardon me, I must attend to my other guests.” She turned on a heel and glided away. Now she could see why any woman would fall for a man like that. He exuded a sort of confident charm women found attractive, as well as seductive. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her jangled nerves. Nay, she could never be alone with him. If the situation proved right and she found herself alone with him, ’twould not be long before she melted against his seductive charms.
Isabeau worked her way down his slick shoulders. Bubbles formed under her fingers with each motion. Her breasts tingled from root to tip at the marvelous texture of his skin. God, he possessed a magnificent form.
Kendrick tilted his head back and rested it on the lip of the tub, his wet hair trailing over her arms. “I cannot tell you how wonderful your touch truly is.”
“Many thanks, milord. You have said so before.”
“And I meant it.”
Isabeau’s grip tightened on the cloth as she soaped his chest. Her breathing increased as every fiber of her being awakened. “I enjoy pleasing you in this manner.”
“Do you know what would please me even more?”
His fingers encircled her wrist and guided her below the milky water. “Let me show you.”
Kendrick removed the cloth from her hand and dropped the wet fabric to the floor. He brought her hand and guided it beneath the opaque water all the while keeping his smoldering gaze locked with hers.
She knew what he desired and she could not say no to him. She wrapped her fingers around his thickness tightly, stroking him the way he liked. “Is this what you wished to show me?”
“Aye,” he said in a strangled whisper. His hips bucked with each caress, all the while keeping his stare locked with hers.
She smiled as she dipped her other hand below the water and cupped his sacs, drawn tight with need. “Do you like this as well?”
He nodded. “Aye. Keep stroking me, Isabeau.”
Isabeau stroked up his taut shaft, taking both hands with thumbs and forefingers spread wide and capturing him in a hard vice. Up and down she pumped his cock, as if she wanted to milk him for every drop of seed he possessed.
“Oh, Jesu, I am ready to come,” he moaned as he thrust his hips up hard.
“Do as you will, milord.”
Just as she brought her hands upwards, Kendrick pulled her into his tub, clothes and all. She cared not at this point. He had aroused her senses as well as her soul. She wanted him inside of her.
Kendrick pushed the wet wool out of the way and impaled her on his ready cock. She gasped at the tight fullness of her pussy, stretched to the complete limit. “That’s it, love. Ride me hard.”
Isabeau rotated her hips as her sex clamped onto his rod, siphoning his shaft of come. She thrust forward and rotated his hips, masturbating him slowly, as if to tease. “Is that what you wish?”