Lioness' Crusade

Zoe Lionheart 10

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 99,747
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“If the invaders are the plague of this universe, then we’re the antibodies,” April claims. Together with her family, she starts a crusade against the overwhelming number of enemies. That she might need a few millennia to find them all can’t dim her determination. But then she learns she may have to die first.

Is it hubris to venture on such a mission? Or is the mission’s failure already factored into April’s plans, is it just about suicide with guns blazing, about taking as many of them with her as possible to satisfy her hunger for revenge?

Lioness' Crusade
0 Ratings (0.0)

Lioness' Crusade

Zoe Lionheart 10

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 99,747
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Martine Jardin
Excerpt

With a continuous whoosh, one little wave after another ran up the fine sand and rolled back. I observed little white crests giving away the distant reef’s ring, formed from countless corals, behind which the orange-red ball soon would disappear.

Orange-gold also mirrored in fractal splinters on the Pacific surface next to our little atoll, which could completely be walked around in ten to fifteen minutes. At our backs, I knew the small lagoon where we had taken a bath during the day when we hadn’t been diving around the marvelously colored corals and the tropical fish.

Surgeonfish, morays, little sharks, sea anemones, rays, we’d soon leave all this behind forever. I had to think of Liz, our second daughter, who had chosen this for her life, and yet hadn’t hesitated for a moment when asked whether to come along or stay behind. What may have been the reason? Her family? Or perhaps the reassuring nest of numerous Dragon signatures that had wrapped her for all her life, an encouraging shield of friendship, care and trust that would now travel to space with us?

No Dragon on Earth had ever truly been alone—except for me. Before I had felt the marvelous variety of signatures in their all-encompassing beauty, I hadn’t known what I had been missing. I had only been an orphan with no parents, relatives, close friends, with no single person to talk about my most intimate problems. I had been alone.

Now I was no longer alone.

Next to me, I saw my companion’s nicely tanned skin, the light blonde hair, the likewise blonde hair on her pubes, her trained shape, the shallow, evenly rounded domes of her small breasts that need no support. She was reclining in the sand next to me, her eyes closed, her lips slightly opened, she smiled, probably still enjoying the echo of the wonderful orgasm I had just helped her to with my swift tongue.

The doubtlessly nicest entry on her list was this—a romantic beach party for two on a lonesome Pacific atoll, only the two of us and a picnic case with champagne and the world’s best wines and food. For an instant, I had seriously considered to bring music, but there wouldn’t have been a piece appropriate to surpass the natural sound of ocean and wind anyway.

I hadn’t found anything to take out of the small case in order to make room for the respective gear. My payload capacity was limited, and April hadn’t gained enough experience to take a share, as we had come on our own wings. No pilot knew our whereabouts.

The sun disappeared, and the light quickly faded. There wasn’t enough haze in the air to redirect the light passing high above us—no problem for our enhanced senses.

In some inexplicable way my companion had said goodbye to some part of her past, I had recognized it from the way she’d been lost in thoughts during the day. She didn’t seem ready to talk about it.

April purred and stirred, stretched her arms out above her head. How nice that she finally could enjoy my tenderness again! As intense as our mental relationship was, to be able to experience togetherness physically, too, to be really close to each other, to share passion, such simply was part of a partnership.

Her minimal movements told me she was ready again. She had to catch up with so much!

I decorated some Beluga caviar around her nipples, a little piece of truffles in her bellybutton and a crumb of liver pâté on her pubes. What did we need cutlery or dishes for? The only concession had been two wine glasses, and those waited some way farther up the beach.

Again, my companion purred, moving her knees outward. Oh, my beloved, I have to show you anew that you can feel lust in other places than just between your legs, have I?

I began my mission by sucking her fingertips, sampling the last traces of salty water. With hot breath and hot lips I touched her arteries, caressed the fine downy hair of her arms with nose and tongue, tickled her neck with my own hair, then I collected a few of the small balls of caviar from her left, erected nipple.

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