Wednesday, September 10, 2014

#WednesdayBriefs #FlashFiction Hand of Fate chapter 4 #fantasy #mfromance

Greetings lovelies!

I wasn't able to make it last week, but here we are again. *grin* Today, I'm continuing where I left of with this fantasy romance I'm building up. You can read previous chapters by clicking on the links below.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

I've had a hard time fitting in today's prompt, but I finally went with:  "It’s my treat."


Hand of Fate 4
Her nipples hardened as he tried out her name. Every time he said it her body responded. There was no malice in his tone, quite the contrary, her name on his lips sounded like honey dripping from a spoon. She felt compelled to raise her head and look him in the eye. To see if in their depths there was any warmth or if it was truly all a spell.
“Mayra,” he crooned. Her back arched and she gasped as he touched her spine with his fingertip.  He slid it lower, causing sparks of desire to build between her legs. She moaned. Dear Gods. What was he doing to her? She shut her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip. She would fight. She would not succumb. The Ilaildar’s finger traced tiny circles over her bottom left cheek. Her lips parted as she fought to control her panting breath. A little more. A little more and he’d reach her folds. Yes. No. No. No. Yes. Abruptly, he stopped.
“Why did you pick her, Uraima?”
“My Lord?”
“Why her? She’s got spirit this one. She’s a fighter. She’ll be nothing but a load of trouble.”
Mayra cried out as the Ilaildar wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled her head back. Her eyes flew to the other man’s. His kind brown gaze was troubled.
“There is no doubt that she is beautiful. I can see that. Plump lips, soft large eyes, high cheekbones, a fine nose. Show me your hands, Mayra.”
Her hesitation caused sharp tug at her scalp that brought tears to her eyes. She flattened her hands on her knees.
“Ah, look at that. Long fingers, barely any callouses, no spots. Good hands.” The one on her hair loosened a bit. “Her body is not that great. She’s too wiry, too thin. Her bottom is well proportioned but her breasts are too small. There is nothing we can do about that but I’m certain that some quality food will help get some meat on the rest of those bones.”
He released her hair and she breathed in a sigh of relief. It didn’t last long as his cold fingers grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. The Ilaildar crouched before her. Eyes the color of frozen ice bore into her. Heat swamped her senses. Goosebumps sprouted over her flesh. Her breasts felt heavy, the nipples so distended they ached. She had no doubt that the spot on the floor where she kneeled was wet with her juices. She curled her hands into fists. It could not be. Why? Why did he have such power over her? Why did she want nothing more than to bed him?
She shut her eyes. No.
The Ilaildar chuckled and let go of her.  
“She is not immune but she fights it with all her heart.” He cocked his head. “I wonder…Touch her, Uraima.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“I want you to touch her. It’s my treat, my gift to you for picking such a delectable Kamaira.”
To be continued...
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