Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Guest Post - 6/19/18 - Conquered by the Viking by Ashe Barker #EroticRomance #Historical

Can Merewyn overcome her natural fear of the mighty Viking warlord who has invaded her Celtic home? She's encountered his kind before and has first hand experience of the brutality of these ferocious Nordic raiders. Why should this blond invader be any different?


Excerpt:

His voice had hardened, the shift almost imperceptible but enough to impel Merewyn to obedience. She tilted her head back for his ministrations, acutely conscious of the cooling air which now caressed her naked breasts. Her nipples swelled and hardened in the draught. Merewyn prayed that he might not notice, though she knew he would.
This Viking missed nothing.
He poured the clean water over her hair, lifting the long tresses to dunk them in the water before applying the soap. He massaged the lather into her scalp, his fingers working large, firm circles on her sensitised flesh. Despite the embarrassing state of her nipples, not to mention the peculiar clenching at her core which she was quite unable to control, Merewyn was mortified when she let out an involuntary moan.
"I am sorry, I did not mean--"
"It is not a problem. Please, relax, make such sounds as you wish."
"I would not wish you to think that I... I..."
"That you are enjoying this?"
"Yes."
"I know that you are, but we need not dwell upon that fact if you prefer not to."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"And this? Do you like this also?" He shifted his fingers to the nape of her neck just as he had done before, and proceeded to caress the delicate skin there.
Merewyn opted not to respond, though her nipples tightened even more and heat furled at her core.
She should have protested when his fingers once again crept over her shoulders, kneading and squeezing until she believed she might expire with the sheer pleasure of it. Her muscles stretched and loosened, the stress of recent days falling away. There was something almost magical in his touch, a knowing, practised ease. He seemed to understand her body's needs better than she did.
Merewyn lay still as he continued his exploration, his clever fingers moving lower, across her chest to find her puckered nipples.
She gasped, tried to find the words to beg him to stop but this time they would not come. He rolled the pebbled nubs between his fingers and thumbs, his touch gentle but firming as she writhed in the water. He squeezed, almost to the point of pain, then relaxed his grip and circled the sensitive peaks with his fingertips.
"Does this feel good, little Celt?"
Merewyn closed her eyes, and nodded. Heat furled within her belly, spreading and blooming. She ached, deep down, between her thighs in that secret place which only she knew of. She fought the urge to reach down, as she did occasionally in the warm privacy of her bed, to seek out that exact spot where pleasure was to be found.
It was as though he was somehow privy to her most secret thoughts, her most intimate yearnings. His right hand ceased to tease and tantalise her nipple and instead he reached down into the water, between her legs to find that precise place. He was unerring, it was as though he knew exactly what would arouse her and drive her wild with desire. His fingers parted her folds and settled on the small nub which lay concealed there.
He rubbed. He flicked it with his finger tip. He slid his digits on either side and traced the outline, then he explored lower, found the entrance to her body and dipped the tip of one finger inside.
Never, when she had touched herself, had she felt like this. Not even remotely. Utterly wanton in her response, Merewyn bucked in his embrace. She lifted her arm from the water to drape it back and around his neck as though to anchor herself. He murmured something in her ear, incomprehensible words in his native tongue. She did not understand but her arousal built and bloomed anyway. It was as though her body were no longer her own but his to control. He stroked her again, caressed that sensitive bundle of nerves until she could bear it no more.
"Please..." her voice was ragged, her breath shallow. "Please do not..."
"Do you wish me to stop, little Celt?"
Yes.  No. She could find no words, so merely hung on as her inner muscles contracted and clenched.
Mathios placed his thumb over her pleasure bud at the same time as he plunged his fingers into her cunny. It was too much. Her senses were totally overwhelmed, her body weightless, floating as white light exploded behind her eyes. She shook with the power of her body's response. Wave after wave of carnal pleasure washed though her, starting at her core where his fingers still worked their sorcery and flowing right out to the ends of her fingers and toes.


Blurb:

Eighteen-year-old orphan Merewyn has seen enough of Vikings to know she hates them, so she is furious when a band of shipwrecked Norsemen force their way into her home. Despite her best efforts to drive them away, their leader makes it clear they intend to stay for the winter. To her surprise, he also takes an interest in her well-being, and when Merewyn attempts to run off and fend for herself the battle-hardened warrior strips her bare for a painful, humiliating switching.

Despite his willingness to chastise her so shamefully, Merewyn cannot deny that these men are not the savage barbarians she expected, and she does not object when the huge, handsome brute who so recently punished her takes her in his arms and claims her hard and thoroughly. As the weeks pass, Merewyn's uninvited guest masters both her body and her heart ever more completely, but does he plan to truly make her his or will she be left behind when he sails home?

Publisher’s Note: Conquered by the Viking includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links:

Amazon    (free to read on Kindle Unlimited)




About the Author:

USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.
Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.
Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days - her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel. 
At the last count Ashe had around seventy titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.
Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.
Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:
Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com


Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Guest Post - 6/5/18 - The King's Vice by Felicity Brandon - Part of the "Six of the Best British Spankings" Anthology #SpankingRomance #Anthology

Felicity Brandon has dropped by to share a snippet from her novella "The Kings Vice" which is her contribution to the Six of the Best - British Spankings Anthology.


This is a perilous game, and one which I am almost certain to lose. If I play badly, then I risk upsetting him and my family will bear the brunt of my failure. Yet if I win – ah, if I win – I could lose something far more precious than even wealth or my reputation; I could lose my heart.

Excerpt:

One stride and he is right against me, his breath hot over my face, laced with the expensive wine we consumed earlier in the evening. “Yes, Lady Jane,” he answers. “This is where you shall be bared and spanked.”
Bared? I know my eyes widen at the word. “I am to be bared, Your Majesty?” I say, forcing the words from my mouth in a rush of anxious excitement. “All of me?”
He breaks into a low laugh. “There is a choice,” he replies, pushing my shoulders gently downwards, so that my bottom falls to the soft bedding below me. Now he towers over me, and as I raise my head to see him, my eyes meet his groin. I still at the sudden proximity to the place I know conceals His Majesty’s passion, my gaze lingering longer than it has right to, before rising slowly to meet his delicious brown eyes. His grin widens, acknowledging the brazen nature of my thoughts, and unbelievably I blush again, grateful for the shadows which may just hide my shame.
“A choice, Your Majesty?” I manage, my chest rising and falling faster with each passing moment.
He lowers himself in front of me, so that our eyes are at the same level. “A choice,” he agrees, pressing himself forward over my body. I gasp as he shifts his weight, his dexterity taking me by surprise. The sudden appearance of his face forces me backwards, and I find myself pinioned beneath his body, my legs splayed awkwardly under the skirts of my gown.
“There is always a choice, Lady Jane,” he murmurs, the strands of his dark curls hanging about my face.
I bite my lip, confusion and arousal at my change of circumstances, combined with my restricting bodice making it hard to breath. “What is the choice, Your Majesty?” I gasp.
The smile on his face is sin itself, and in this moment, I know that I have walked straight into his trap, although whether I have done so willingly or not is not even clear to me. “You can either be upturned over my knee, your skirts hoisted high over your back so that your delicious bottom is exposed to my palm, or…” He pauses, angling the weight of his stare over my face.
My mind, filled with the image he has just painted of me, reels at the silence. Is he expecting me to reply? What is the etiquette for such moments?
His expression shifts into a low chuckle as he appraises whatever constitutes my expression at this moment, and fortunately he once again takes pity on me, his humble servant. “Or, you can be stripped entirely.”
This time I cannot conceal the audible gasp which escapes from my lips. “Entirely, Your Majesty?” I repeat, as though surely his words cannot be real. Although of course I know them to be true, having only just left four naked ladies in the prior room.
“Yes, dear Jane,” he muses from over me. “A lady can only truly be admired in her own, natural form.”
I contemplate him, this man—my monarch—who has captured me so easily into his delicious game. “No one has ever seen me bare, Your Majesty,” I whisper, the words an admission of my innocence—a fact I have already articulated.
He nods. “I know,” he replies. “And I assume that until this night no man has ever claimed your sweet mouth, spoken to you of such lewd subjects, or pinned you against his bed?”
His brow rises as he speaks, the small gesture releasing a flood of moisture from between my legs. I am not absolutely clear what it is about him which is so alluring, but he most certainly has it. Yes, he is the King, and yet it is so much more than that. He is the devil in disguise, a debauch and beguiling demon, sent forth to worship and corrupt me. The thought makes me smile, in spite of my shame on the subject.
“You’re correct, Your Majesty,” I say with a small nod. “You are the first, on all counts.”
Smiling at the acknowledgment, he lowers his face into mine. Those full lips graze my mouth, parting my lips in an instant as my eyes slip shut. I want him to kiss me, to claim me, to own me. I desire it in a way I have no right to do. I demand it.




Blurb:

Assume the position and prepare for Six of the Best!

Six SCORCHING stories from USA Today and number 1 bestselling British authors! This is the 100% British historical anthology you've been waiting for. So, grab a cup of tea and make sure the smelling salts are to hand, then settle in as our heroines re-write the rules and earn SIX OF THE BEST for their outrageous antics. This dance across history sweeps from the Restoration to Victorian times and will leave you panting almost as much as our naughty ladies.

Publisher's note: These stories are HOT. Hotter than an oven full of muffins in a well-known British cake show. Domestic discipline and other indoor sports feature heavily in them, so if that's not your cup of tea, this is probably not the set for you. Don't say we didn't warn you!

Buy Links:

About the Author:

Felicity Brandon is a #1 international bestseller of erotic spanking romance.
She’s been reading and writing for many years, and loves to delve into the psychological intensity of sexual submission. She has written erotic titles in contemporary, historical and fantasy genres.

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