The Viking's Possession by Felicity Brandon
War captured her, desire captivated her, but can her Viking captor truly possess her?
After she saves the life of Prince Anders, the Viking warrior who took her as his captive and tamed both her body and her heart, nineteen-year-old Princess Aurelie of Donrose knows that she can never return home again. She will belong to Anders forever, as his bride and his possession, destined to be used and enjoyed as thoroughly, shamefully, and often as he pleases. Though Anders has proven many times that he is more than willing to punish her bare bottom harshly for any disobedience, with war fast approaching between her brother and her husband, Aurelie puts her own life in danger in the hopes of making peace. But when her reckless gamble goes wrong, can Anders rescue his headstrong young wife before any harm comes to her? The Viking's Possession is the sequel to The Viking's Conquest, but can be read as a stand-alone novel. It includes spankings, and sexual scenes, including some scenes of sexual humiliation. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.
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“How is my captive now?” His tone is deep and intimidating, and the resonance sends a flood of moisture rushing from my core.
“A little afraid, my Lofðungr,” I admit, watching as he strips his doublet from his torso, revealing his strong arms and chest.
His eyes narrow slightly, but he does not pass comment. Instead, he pauses, watching me in silence for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. At length, he moves to a large trunk in place against a far wall, lifting the substantial lid, and identifying something he desires from its contents. He swoops, collecting it, and his gaze is back on me at once, searing into my flesh. “Why afraid?” he asks, stepping back toward me.
Trapped in the confines of his bedcovers, I eye the implement in his hands with trepidation. It’s a lash, much like the one he has used on me before, and memories of those times flood my brain, my mouth drying in an instant. “My Lofðungr, please,” I say, the plea out before I even have time to think. “Do I really deserve such a penance?”
He reaches the opposite edge of the bed, smiling. “Is it for you to decide how your punishment is delivered?”
I shake my head, fear and arousal combining to make me feel giddy. “No, my Lofðungr,” I whisper.
He drops to the covers below, his weight reverberating up the length of the bed to where I sit, curled into something of a ball. “You have no reason to fear me, Aurelie,” he smiles. “After everything which has transpired between us, do you really think I could cause you any real harm?”
I blink away the tears that have collected in my eyes, once more shaking my head at his question. “No,” I sniff, watching him as he slides further up the bed toward me. “But please remember, my Lofðungr, you hold all of the cards here. These are your chambers, your town—your people. I am but a foreigner here—an alien—your most recent conquest.”
His tongue darts from his mouth, licking his lower lip in an unconscious way. “Au-re-lie,” he murmurs in that way that makes me belly clench and my sex yearn for him. “You know me better than this now, no?” He poses it as a question, yet gives me no time to respond. “I do not bring women back to my castle—not ever—not until you.”
There is silence for a moment as I absorb his words.
“I have done a great many things which I am not proud of,” he continues. “I have humiliated and treated you unfairly…” Here he pauses, his gaze intense as we both recall the deeds to which he refers. My face begins to flame at the memory of the things that have transpired between us. “I am a devil, Aurelie. I do not deny it. Yet you saved me, my sweeting, and so now, what am I?”
I draw in a deep breath, hypnotised by his performance. “You are the prince?” I offer in a tiny voice. “You always were.”
He smiles, dismissing my answer with a small shake of his blond hair. “A prince perhaps,” he concedes, “but much more than that, Aurelie. Now I am your devil—all yours—and you are mine.”
My heart is slamming against my chest as he crawls toward me, the black implement still clutched in his left hand. He rips the covers from my chest, exposing my breasts to the cool air once more, before straddling me with his formidable legs.
“You need not worry about my intention, or what you deserve,” he laughs softly. “I want all of your attention on me, right here, right now, do you understand?”
I nod, panting as he lowers his body over me. As he supports himself on his elbows, his lips brush over my mouth, his beard grazing me as he delivers soft caresses, before claiming my lips again. He finds me open and pliant, my mouth yielding for his sweet possession. It’s the most natural sensation in the world, and somehow the power of his kiss gives me strength. I am not afraid. I have come this far—and I do trust him.
More about Felicity...
International bestselling & award winning writer of BDSM, spanking erotic romance.
Voted Favourite Historical Fiction, 2016, Golden Flogger Finalist, 2016, and Spanking Romance Review runner-up, 2016. Founding Wicked Pen writer.
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