The Barbarian (MF)

The Conquerors 6

Evernight Publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 43,560
2 Ratings (4.0)

Lady Amias has a bad temper. She's been rejected by four husbands already and Stryker Bloodaxe could be her last chance to escape spinsterhood. Unfortunately he has the civility and refinement of a randy bull, and his remote manor on the wild, Cornish moor never housed a female unless she was a servant or a whore.

Amias knows Stryker doesn't want a wife, but he needs her bride purse and he's just desperate enough to take her on, reputation and all. Whatever is required to claim the haughty lady's dowry, this ruthless warrior will do it.

Except one thing.

He'll never give his heart.

Undaunted, Amias strikes a bargain with her barbarian. After all, he has other parts to share, even if his heart is out of bounds. He may think he's unlovable, his manor uninhabitable for a lady, but she hasn't earned the name "Ami the Unbreakable" for nothing.

Be Warned: anal sex, public exhibition.

The Barbarian (MF)
2 Ratings (4.0)

The Barbarian (MF)

The Conquerors 6

Evernight Publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 43,560
2 Ratings (4.0)
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Cover Art by Sour Cherry Designs
Another great book

Her abductor bellowed to his band of brigands, "Save the horses first as they're of most value."

Ami's teeth rattled as they picked up speed. "You ignorant warthog, put me down at once."

"That's fine thanks for saving you, wench."

"Wench? Wench?" She could barely breathe, fury scorched her throat. "You flea-ridden animal, let me go at once!"

His heavy hand came down on her buttocks, roughly pulling the cloth of her gown further up all the way to her waist until she felt the brisk air on her skin. While his horse kept the rapid bouncing pace that rendered her dizzy, he slapped her hard on her bare bottom. She felt the worn leather of his gauntlet and heard his laughter, as a series of quick, hard slaps vibrated though her body and pressed her down even harder across his groin. She cursed, warning he would pay for this scandalous treatment of her person.

At that threat her kidnapper had the audacity to laugh harder. "Oh I will pay your price, wench. Just as agreed. Worry not, I keep to my bargains."

She could scarce believe her ears, but in the next breath his gloved forefinger slid down the crack of her exposed backside, forced its way between her clenched thighs and found her pussy lips. There he exerted pressure of a sort she'd only ever experienced with her own hand. Heat flooded her sex and Ami knew her face —and her arse—must be blushing scarlet.

"Get off me, cruel fiend!" she cried, struggling with renewed determination. He ignored her, but forced a second finger between her legs and then rubbed with both, trying to squeeze them between her labia. To her shame the motion soon made her moist. Her mound was pressed down in his lap and she felt a stiffening there, protruding upward, further increasing her discomfort—and also, most strangely, the waves of wicked pleasure now coursing through her.

What was he doing to her? What did he mean by a bargain and getting his money's worth?

"Your writhing makes me hot and hard, wench," he grunted. He took his hand from between her legs and then she heard him give a soft, low whistle. "You're wet for me, eh?"

"Yes, I am wet," she exclaimed. "Soaked through in this miserable rain. Now let me go."

He spanked her again and returned his fingers to the molestation of her pussy which, try as she might to prevent it, blossomed under the attention. "I've paid for you for three nights of entertainment, wench. But I appreciate the act." He chuckled and the hard protuberance in his breeches twitched again, pushing at her mound, grinding against her wet heat. "A little maidenly reluctance whets the appetite, but you needn't continue with it. I've no fancy for rape. Save that performance for other customers."

"Customers? Are you a madman? Set me down now and I shall see to it that no retaliation is taken against you."

They were leaving the wintering field and entering a clump of bare trees, dead leaves soggy under the horse's hooves. He slowed his horse and his hand swept up to caress her arse, almost as if he soothed a frightened animal. "I don't think I can wait to get to the manor," he muttered huskily. "I'm likely to spend in my breeches.”

Barely had the horse stopped moving before Amias was on the ground, wet and rotting leaves beneath her. She cursed at him, but those words apparently rolled off his skin along with the sweat and the rain. He had both her wrists in one of his large hands and hauled them up over her head. The worn leather gauntlet was rough and damp, his fingers like manacles. His heavy body laid over her and with one knee he forced her writhing legs apart.

"Don't you dare," she cried, arching her back, trying to buck him off.

"I told you to stop the act, my saucy vixen. You've got me nicely roused already."

Discarding the other gauntlet in the leaves beside her, he used his free hand under her gown and shift, parting her thighs wider. She looked up into his face then for the first time and found eyes the color of steel, his lips parted by harsh, moist breaths. Speckles of dirt and blood liberally dusted his rugged features. His mouth was hard, his nose long and slender. Damp, sun-kissed hair stuck to his brow and his chin was rough, unshaven. She caught a gleam of strong teeth, like those of a snarling beast ready to devour its prey. But his eyes drew her back again. They held her as firmly as his left hand held her wrists to the soft, wet ground.

And then his bare hand slapped up between her thighs and cupped her sex. His palm was callused, hard, the skin warm from the leather gauntlet he'd just removed.

Although he claimed to have no fancy for rape, what was this? "Do you take all your women by force?" She hissed. "I suppose you can get them no other way." Her body might be helpless, but her tongue was not.

He gave no reply. His broad hand squeezed slowly, the heel of his palm exerting pressure on her mound, his long fingers rubbing her labia. The flames flared again inside Ami, much to her indignation. How could his touch do this to her? She was familiar with the slow smoldering caused by her own hand on her sex, but when this man fondled her it sparked much quicker. She felt her body melting, her own dew dripping onto his fingers, further humiliating her. And when one corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk she knew he felt it too.

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