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An Excerpt From: WILLING SUBMISSION
Copyright © EVANGELINE ANDERSON, 2008
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
“There
is a prophesy written by the scribes of yesteryear
that one would come—a priestess from the mountaintop who was born in the
first month of the year in the winter snows. One who has hair as red as
blood and eyes as golden as the sunset.” He leaned down to look into Kira’s
eyes. “You have the eyes and the hair, my lady. Were you also born in the
snows of winter?”
Kira
was too proud to lie and besides, she had the strangest feeling that the
man with the cold gray eyes would know if she wasn’t telling the truth. She
swallowed hard and nodded.
“I was
indeed born this first month of the year. My mother was out gathering bark
for an infusion when her labor pains struck. So quickly did they come upon
her that I was born there in the snowy forest before she could return to
our city.” Kira frowned. “When your men captured
me I was on my way to our temple for my yearly conception ceremony on this,
my twentieth and second birthday, which is the year after my coming of age.
But I don’t see why my birth month or the color of my eyes and hair should
have special significance to you or your people.”
“You
have great significance indeed,” the man with gray eyes told her gravely. “The prophesy foretells that when such a woman appears
she must be joined to the leader of our people. Only then will the rift
between our nations be healed.”
“There
is no rift,” Kira scoffed, lifting her chin. “Or none that the servants of
the one true goddess wish to be healed, at any rate. We stay far from your
benighted lands lest you infect us with your ignorance. We are perfectly
happy living as we are and have no need of any of your worthless,
headstrong men among us. So you can tell your leader, whoever the idiot is,
that I want none of him.”
The man’s
frown deepened and he made an elaborate bow. “I am the leader of my
people, proud little priestess. You may call me Therik. And I am afraid you
have no choice in the matter. For join we must and will.” He leaned down
and cupped her chin gently in one calloused palm, his gray eyes holding
hers. “Do you begin to understand what I mean?”
Kira
shivered at his touch and felt her nipples tighten in fear beneath her thin
gown. She understood his meaning, all right. He meant to have her between
her legs—meant to plunder her hidden treasures and force his thick cock
into her tender cunt. She had heard tales from other priestesses who had
been captured before, stories of how they were forced to endure being
spread open and fucked until the men who had captured them had their fill.
Indeed, it had happened to her best friend Senna not once but three times
and each time she had come back from the encounter, her pussy ravaged and
dripping with cum from the strange men who had caught her unawares in the
forest.
What
had happened to her friend was a fate too horrible to be imagined and yet
Kira couldn’t help picturing it in her mind, couldn’t help imagining
herself pinned beneath this man’s muscular bulk with his cock buried deep
in her pussy. Would he ride her hard until he filled her cunt with his cum?
Or would he be gentle, as Senna had claimed the barbarian men sometimes
were, and try to prolong the experience?
“Well?”
His voice, soft but forceful, interrupted her frightening fantasy. He was
nothing like the tame males of the village she was used to, this Therik. He
was powerful and frightening and staring into his eyes as he spoke to her
in that deep, quiet voice seemed to do strange things to her insides. But
despite her trembling nerves, Kira refused to look away.
“I
understand you perfectly. But I…I do not fear you,” she told him, willing
her voice not to tremble too much.
For
the first time a smile spread over his face, making his hawklike
features almost handsome. “Of course you do, little priestess. But there is
no need for you to. I swear to you now that every touch, every kiss, every
caress between us will be nothing but pleasure.”
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