UPDATE: The winner of that autographed copy of Hot Highlanders
and Wild Knights…is Jana!
A whole volume of Viking stories! You might wonder (if you aren’t a fan of history) how we could possibly provide a variety of scenarios that aren’t repetitive “Viking rapes and pillages the British coast.” Well, aren’t you lucky, because we’ll provide you a mini-education along with giving you sensual thrills! Did you know Vikings provided men to serve in the elite Varangian Guard and were the personal bodyguards to the Byzantine emperor? Now you do. Enjoy this snippet from Melissa’s A Varangian Guest! And don’t forget to post a comment!
A Varangian Guest
by Melissa Fuchs
When her brother returns to Constantinople in the company of a warrior
from the far north, a widow finds herself drawn to him with irresistible desire
Arestes was sitting in the sunken pool, faced away from the entrance. One of his naked, muscular arms laid languidly on the edge. His head was tilted backwards. And while she couldn’t see what his other hand was doing, she could very much see the muscles in his shoulders moving. The noises she heard hadn’t been humming, but low, rough moaning.
Heat rose in Melite’s face. She wasn’t sure if it was because she had intruded on a very private scene, or because those rasping moans sent sparks through her body and between her legs.
The prudent thing would be to leave him, and she slowly began to retreat. But just when she had set one foot over the threshold, her palla slipped from her head, and the soft noise of silk sliding over wool was enough to alert Arestes to her presence.
With the reflexes of a soldier, he jumped up and turned.
She managed to duck into the hallway before he could see her, but now that he was standing, his body was on full display. Bared of clothes, his shoulders looked even wider, his arms more powerful. Curls of golden hair covered a broad chest dripping with water. The scar she had noticed earlier ran from his neck down his chest, white and slightly luminescent in the dim light of the tallow lamps. It continued over taut muscles down to his navel, where another thin line of hair led to a bed of more curls between his legs where his sex jutted, long, thick and glistening, and still hard despite the sudden disruption.
Melite’s mouth watered and her fingers started to itch. Never had she seen such a large, beautiful cock before.
“Who is there?” he called, not loud enough to alert the slaves, but loud enough for anybody in the hallway to hear. The thick muscles of his thighs tightened as he made a move to leave the pool.
In this moment, Melite decided that five years of celibacy had been enough. Prudence, propriety be damned. She was a widow—even if he did tell anybody, who would believe the words of a barbarian over those of a noble Roman lady?
All those thoughts rushed through Melite’s head in a split second. She stepped into the bathroom again.
Arestes’ eyes widened. “Kyria, I…”
She cut him off with a motion of her hand, and while fixing his gaze with her own, she slowly let her silken palla slide to the floor. His eyebrows shot upwards, but when she started to walk towards him, the light blue of his eyes vanished as his pupils widened. Staring from black eyes, he swallowed.
Melite smiled as she neared to the edge of the pool, though her mind was overflowing with doubts that came too late. Would he reject her? What if he laughed at her? After taking a deep breath to calm herself, she opened the lacings that held her tunic at her shoulders, allowing the soft wool to pool around her feet and revealing her voluptuous body.
A low growl came from his throat. Rough hands reached to grasp her hips and pull her toward him, leaving her no room for doubt concerning his attraction.