A Wicked Conquest

A Wicked Conquest
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ISBN:  9781907753312
Author:  Valerie Saxon
Word Count:  70,796
Format:  eBook



Dangerous InheritanceDangerous Inheritance
Hannah's SinsHannah's Sins

The lanky one leered down at her, his cock engorged with excitement. 'Watch and learn, my friend,' he taunted the fat one. 'Watch and learn. Mayhap women would be more willing to open their legs if you had something more exciting to offer.'
   Rowena's eyes glazed over purposefully. If she thought of other things he would not be able to touch her, not the part of her that mattered, anyway. But to her dismay his cock had steel and he knew how to wield it to pleasure them both.
   'Come,' he said, panting into her ear, 'let's have a good fuck, you and I.'

Despite tenth century Britain's strong defences, Sigurd, a Norse chieftain, threatens a Saxon settlement. Beautiful Rowena, the thane's daughter, is bartered as the price for peace, and although she hates him, part of her is attracted to his handsome exterior and magnetic personality. But she soon learns that beneath this lies a man with a dark secret and a deep hatred for women.

Rowena is caught up in his plans for revenge on an old enemy, and even before he takes her to his land of fire and ice, she learns that she will find no mercy at the hands of the depraved heathen.

When she finally escapes to Ireland, to end his reign of evil, it is to fall into the hands of cruel dwarves who use her as a sex slave. But Sigurd immediately sets sail to recapture her, the pawn in his game. Can she flee the perversions that are heaped on her? Will her fighting spirit help her win her freedom, or is she doomed to an existence of brutality and slavery?

Rowena huddled miserably into her mantle, almost wishing she were back in the big bed in the shieling. She tried to breathe some warmth into her hands, wishing she'd had the nerve to slit Sigurd's throat before she left. She shuddered, thinking of her lot had Maeve and Phelim not saved her, and she thanked the Lord for Algitha's douches, or she would surely have been large with Sigurd's child by now. No doubt, during the long dark winter, he would have managed to impregnate her and then his plans for her would have taken off.
   She looked up at the giant oak beneath which she sheltered, listening to the wind whistling eerily through its branches. Her companions were sleeping nearby, exhausted as she was by the sea voyage. But there was to be no sleep for her, her mind far too active for that.
   Algitha had helped drug Sigurd into a deep sleep, appalled at Rowena's story. Maeve had used some of the potion to drug the men who Sigurd kept on guard during the night, and it was easy after that to sneak away from the farm and steal one of the longboats from its berth and cast off on their adventure. But they had not taken into account the rough weather that set in shortly after their escape.
   The men suffered the most on the journey, as they'd had to put up with all the elements threw at them, while she and Maeve were closeted in a small tent on deck for most of the journey. She watched the men nervously as they steered by the sun and stars, taken note of cloud formation, the colour of the seawater, used a line to search the ocean's bottom. They had even noted the sea creatures and birds and searched for pieces of driftwood to give them some idea of their whereabouts.
   And here they were in that green, verdant land her mother loved. She dashed away a tear, shivering in her thin clothes. She surmised that dawn would be upon them soon, and with a yawn drifted into a dreamless sleep.
   She was rudely awakened by a sharp kick to her left foot. Having had little sleep she was disorientated, and opened her eyes wondering where she was. But seeing Maeve and Phelim and the other Irishmen talking to some rough looking strangers soon brought her to her senses.
   'Who are you? What do you think you're doing?' she demanded, as one particularly hairy individual hauled her to her feet and dragged her none too gently towards her companions.
   Maeve was smiling and Phelim seemed to be doing some sort of deal. Rowena saw money pass hands and Maeve turned to her. 'There, we are done. Phelim, our friends and I will make our way to civilisation. You, Rowena, are to go with these gentlemen.'
   Rowena pushed her damp hair out of her eyes, fighting to understand what the Irish girl was saying to her. 'But, I don't understand.'
   Maeve gave a cheerful laugh. 'It is not so hard, lady,' she said sarcastically, sketching a bow. 'You took my man, thinking nothing of what it meant to me. From the first day I saw your simpering face I swore to get even, and guess what, I have. We have sold you to merchants who will barter you in foreign lands, where women are bought and sold and treated like dogs.' She flicked a tress of fiery damp hair from Rowena's shoulders. 'You are not shabby looking and will no doubt adorn someone's bed until he tires of you and sells you on. Or you could be sold to a brothel; I have heard there are many in the east.'
   Rowena's head swam. She'd been tricked! Maeve and Phelim had sold her to some traders who would use her as they saw fit. She had been saved from Sigurd only to find herself in more danger!
   One of her captor's tied her hands behind her back with some rough rope, and then he dug his spear into her side to move her on. With Maeve and Phelim's laughter ringing in her ears she stumbled over the rugged ground as the merchants made for their destination. After being aboard the longboat for so long she was stiff and she knew it would take time for her land-legs to return, but these savages had little pity for her as they poked her with their spears, kicking her when she fell after being unable to keep up with their fast pace.
   They were in a thickly wooded area when loud whooping noises made her blood run cold. Then to her shock many tiny beings dropped from the trees onto the merchants, who were wrestled to the ground and their throats cut where they lay.
   Rowena cowered behind a tree in terror as the blood of her captives ran into the earth, mingling with leaves and mud. The pageant before her was so unreal her mind cast around for something peaceful to cling to. She suddenly thought of her mother's bower, where she would sit with her family and attend to her needlework. But the gentle scene could not compete with the reality of the grotesque little men who had attacked them.
   They were laughing, their knives making arcs in the air triumphantly as they surveyed their prey, stealing all they were able to lay their hands on. Rowena's stomach rebelled at the stench of blood and she vomited. Trembling with fear she tried to flee that awful place but her legs froze and she lent against the tree weakly, her bonds chaffing her wrists. The small men moved clumsily on bandy little legs, their awkward gait as ugly as their large heads and hideous features. She had heard Sigurd and his men speak often of similar creatures they'd met on their travels, and they called them dwarves.
   She took deep breaths, trying to suppress her nausea, and then with a swimming head and trembling limbs she turned and staggered through the trees. But before she'd gone far they were on her, pinning her to the ground, their bloodied hands all over her.
   'Have pity,' she cried as they tore at her clothes, but they took little notice until their leader, a little taller than the rest, shouted an order.
   They immediately retreated and Rowena scrabbled to her feet, her bonds making her almost as awkward as the dwarves. They were chattering in Irish and her heart dropped when she heard them proclaim that they would take her with them. But then she realised she should perhaps be relieved, for at least she was saved for the moment.
   Their voices became quieter and the group broke apart, some of the men running off into the trees, while the others dragged her along with them. They only came up to her waist, and she wished her hands were free so she could fight them and escape. But the thought did not linger, for the awful memory of the merchants' deaths at the hands of the tiny devils made her shudder, and she knew she would not stand a chance against them. Small though they were, they were strong.
   At the edge of the wood was a clearing dotted with small huts, and as the sound of their approach reached the occupiers of the huts, so they came out to greet them. Rowena was astonished to see several tiny women emerge, each one as grotesque in shape and features as their men.
   She was dragged into the middle of the clearing and thrown to the ground. As the damp earth seeped through her torn clothes she saw the men and women embrace, their excitement at their spoils almost palpable. The tiny women danced around her, tugging at her hair, exclaiming at its brightness, prodding her body, amazed at her perfection and beauty despite the cruelty she'd suffered at their hands. The women gathered into a group and chattered slyly, turning occasionally to look upon the stranger in their midst.
   Rowena hoped they would take pity on her, after all, were they not sisters in the flesh? 'Please,' she began in their language, 'release me. I need a drink and my bonds hurt so.'
   The women, amazed at her use of their language, pointed at her and laughed. One slightly more forward than the rest came to her, her bony fingers poking her ribs. 'Do not ask us for help. You're the finest slave we've seen in an age, and we'll make sure you serve us well.'
   The other women sniggered, and overhearing their words two of the men came over to see what was going on. 'Aye, you'll serve us well, bitch,' one sniped. 'And I think you can start right now.'
   The women watched in delight as the men dragged her to her feet, lifting what was left of her clothes in order to expose her legs and most of her pale flesh from the waist down. They sighed at her beauty and stroked her thighs. She cried out at the roughness to which she was bring subjected, but uncaring of her distress the men took out bulging penises that were huge in proportion to their body size.
   The man they called Aed stroked the length of his cock, and Rowena suddenly wanted to laugh; he was not as threatening as he thought, he barely came up to her waist! But as though he could read her mind he punched her right in her middle and she doubled over with pain. 'Stay like that, bitch,' he snarled. 'That's exactly how we want you.'
   Before the pain had time to dissipate Aed jumped on the back of his friend, and standing on his shoulders, stuck a stubby finger in her sex, forcing first one then two inside her. Rowena winced, and her flesh cringed as the evil stranger plundered her core. The women saw her discomfort and laughed.
   One called Mageen cocked her head to one side, remarking, 'Aed has lovely fingers that make a woman tingle, does he not?' Rowena remained silent and the Irish female tossed her head. 'Perhaps she is enjoying it too much, Aed. And if she is happy we are not.'
   The other women muttered their agreement and Aed smirked. 'I cannot help the magic in my hands. And if she's pleased by them just think how highly she will prize the magic of my cock.'

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Saturday, 9 January 2010  | 

This is another very good and horny erotic book from Chimera. Well worth reading.

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