HIS HELLION HOSTAGE
~ ABOUT ~
Princess Fallon is a beguiling young royal, but when the twin suns descend, she tosses away her gowns, and dressed in a warrior’s garb, she wields a sword and fights invisible opponents. Though svelte and small, she has developed a hidden strength and expertise, and she fears no-one!
When the mighty King Handerah of Verdana passes away, Princess Lizbett readies herself to take the throne, but she learns that Fallon, driven by a lifetime of hatred, has begun a reckless plan to take the crown and rule Verdana herself.
Lizbett’s husband, Lord Larian, a Zanderonian warrior, knows he must step in and foil Fallon’s scheme. He orders Zoltaire, his second-in-command, to capture Fallon and keep her captive until Lizbett’s coronation is over, but he gives Zoltaire a warning.
“Zoltaire, do not underestimate her, not for a moment. I doubt she will have a sword at her side, but she will have guile, and her ability to manipulate you could be a greater threat than her talent to brandish a weapon.”
But Lizbett fears Fallon may use her wily, womanly charms and outwit Zoltaire, and secretly decides she will use her own devices to ensure Fallon is no threat.
Can Lizbett stop Larian discovering her covert activities? Will Zoltaire manage to capture Fallon and control the fiery and passionate Princess? Is it possible for Fallon to resist the charismatic Zanderonian warrior, a man trained not just in the art of battle, but in the dark erotic ways of capturing a woman’s heart?
Lifting the flimsy grown over her head and letting it fall to the floor, she crawled past him and took up the position. Gazing at him over her shoulder she watched him kneel behind her, but as he slipped his fingers between her pussy lips, with a soulful moan she dropped her head and closed her eyes.
“So wet, so gloriously wet,” he muttered, then smiling at the satisfying sight of her reddened cheeks, he grabbed her hips and plunged forward.
He had made soft, gentle love to her since arriving in Verdana. She had been filled with sorrow and needed solace, but now she was craving his power and control, and as he felt his fever rise up, he pumped forcefully, spurred on by her gasps and cries of joy.
“Sir,” she wailed, “I have missed this so much. I need this, I need my warrior.”
“I know,” he growled, “and your crimson bottom and wet cunt is evidence of just how much.”
His words made her buck back, chasing his cock on the down stroke, and clenching his teeth, his grip tightened around her hips, refusing her any movement.
“I will ride you as I choose,” he declared, “and that will be hard.”
He saw her fingers curl around the sheets, and as he began to pummel her hot depths, she fell on to her elbows, presenting her posterior as if asking for attention. He continued his thrusting, his eyes never leaving the dusky back hole she had offered, and as he felt his orgasm loom, he released one of her hips and sent his fingers to explore. The moment he touched the dark narrow channel, she let out a wail, but she did not pull away or clench her cheeks.
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