UPDATE: The first 7 commenters are all winners!
Sometimes, an erotic romance author has to write a story with a six-person ménage. It’s a rule. I swear. Sometimes, the author doesn’t even know it’s going to happen, and then…boom! It’s there on the page, and there’s just no way she can cut those very naughty words.
Well, love it or not, this is my six-person ménage. And I love Tetrick and Mora, They’re both strong personalities, although she doesn’t realize it until she meets him. And oddly, it’s a sweet story. Go figure.
If you comment below, you might be one of three people who will win a free download of this story. I know you want it, if for no other reason than to see how it works. Keeping track of all those limbs and, um, appendages takes some skillz, y’all. 🙂
Mora has no illusions she’s anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands a royal union with one of their own. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora decides in that moment to win his heart—she’ll settle for nothing less.
When Lord Tetrik suspects his wife harbors tender feelings, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing—and not a warlord’s destiny.
Warning: Readers should beware. Wedding customs on other planets do not resemble tender newlywed customs on Earth! Expect a smidge of voyeurism and a 6-person ménage. And yes, Kronaki warlord’s bed is built large enough for just such an event!
From the opening…
So, that’s what Kronaki warriors look like!
Every story ever whispered about the fearsome warriors came rushing back to set Mora’s body trembling. How they fought like ravaging beasts, cutting bloody swaths through Graktilian mercenaries during the war. How they lived in rough, stone fortresses made of blocks carved from their frozen mountains. How they fostered their children to rival clans so they would be raised without gentleness.
How they fucked with such fury their women’s screams echoed throughout their valleys.
Mora felt a tremor rumble beneath the polished, marble floor of the great hall, so explosive was the swell of conversation that arose at the warriors’ arrival.
They were seven, dressed in furs and leather, armed with bows slung across their shoulders and scabbards at their sides.
She couldn’t drag her gaze from the man at the head of their formation, striding toward her—her husband in name, if not yet by deed. Although she had never seen him before this day, she knew it must be him, for he looked the fiercest, the strongest—only one such as he would be chosen to rule from amongst their ranks.
He was from a race of barbarians, seemingly as proud of their reputation for brutal warfare as their orgiastic sexuality. The latter, Mora could well believe for the man stalking her now looked every inch a sensual marauder. Read the rest of this entry »