Heroine: Nadia. Sentenced to a prison planet. Purchased at a slave auction by a warlord.
Hero: Ivar. A warlord. Purchases Nadia for a bed slave but soon finds himself wanting to serve her every need.
She jerked and tried to flip over, but he pressed harder. Too late. Electricity rocketed from her pussy to her breasts. He slid a finger along her labia. She groaned involuntarily.
“What’s this?” His voice purred. “My slave is soaking wet.”
“S-stop,” she said, clenching her fists next to her shoulders. His fingers swirled around her clit. Pressure built between her legs. She exhaled on a shudder.
“It’s as I thought,” he said in a wicked, low voice next to her ear. “You liked it, and you want it so bad.”
“I don’t.” Even as she said the words, she parted her legs to give him more access.
He chuckled. “No, of course not.” He slid a long finger inside her.
She moaned deep in her throat. Her skin was hot like she burned from the inside out. His finger filled her, but he wasn’t touching her clit. Frustrated, she lifted her hips. He added another finger, stretching her, and then began to slide them in and out in an excruciatingly slow rhythm. It wasn’t enough. Want him there.
“You’re getting me all wet, slave.” The squishing sounds of her arousal filled the quiet room. “What a naughty secret you’ve been hiding, hmm?”
She squirmed. He shifted his hand so his fingers were still embedded in her cunt, but he wasn’t touching her clit. She thrust her hips back at him, desperate for friction. Faster. He sped up the pace. Reading her mind? She’d wondered before if he had that ability. Don’t care. Just touch me. He stretched out beside her. He continued pumping his fingers in and out of her.
“When I had you naked on my lap downstairs, I could feel your heat on my leg. Did you know that? I could feel how hot and wet you were getting. I could have put you on that table, spread these pretty thighs wide, and ridden you right there in front of everyone.” He withdrew his fingers and rested them on her clit. “Couldn’t I have, Na-dee-ya?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh, yes. Please. ” She imagined herself sitting nude on his lap in front of the miners, his big hand between her spread thighs. Warmth gushed between her legs. She pushed against his fingers.
He tapped her clit, and the first jolt of the warm, melting sensation she was after spiraled through her. His voice was coarse, guttural. “Not yet.”
There was a rustling sound, and then he rolled her onto her back. He pulled the shirt off her head and tossed it aside. She snaked a hand between her legs, dying to come.
He grabbed her wrist. “I said not yet.”
He’d shed his pants, and he reared above her, the full length of his erection jutting from his hips. “I want you to see my face when I make you mine.” The kaptum in his skin had darkened to black, and it swirled slowly up his chest, which glistened in the torchlight.
“Raise your arms above your head and spread your legs— wide.”
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Ivar’s Prize by Amy Pennza is available now for purchase. My review will post 10/23/2017
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