Hi guys! YAY! Another Devarian story has just hit the cyber-stands, so I thought I'd bring you an excerpt today. And next Thursday, I hope you'll join me for the first Sierra's Story Hour -- every week, I'll be posting an installment of a new short story, and when it's done, I'll post the whole thing on my free stories page at sierradafoe.com and start another!
For today -- hot off the presses from Changeling Press:
by Sierra Dafoe
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=682
Captain Merrin Trafalgar’s life is going to pieces. Recalled from space on the verge of discovering a new planet, she’s immured instead on a backwater planet, guarding gelded work-slaves in the wheat fields of Harth. The one thing she has to look forward to is being reunited with her two pleasure-slaves. But in her absence they’ve fallen in love -- with each other! Even worse, Merrin finds herself drawn to the handsome, enigmatic Rolen -- but how can a gelded work-slave rouse such longing in her?
When Rolen reveals his secret, Merrin knows there’s only one answer for her and her forbidden lover -- go renegade!
Rolen walked silently beside her, his hand occasionally touching the small of her back as he guided her along the darker stretches of the path. The night must have grown cooler, because Merrin was intensely aware of his touch even through the thin fabric of her uniform, of the warmth of his fingers and the breadth of his hard, work-callused palm. It felt so different compared to when Stevan touched her, or Amur…
“You won’t… you won’t tell anyone about this, Rolen, will you?” Glancing sidelong at his stern profile, Merrin saw him grimace.
“Of course not. Everyone has secrets, my lady.”
And what secrets would a work-slave have? Merrin wondered. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask. It would be violating, somehow, what he’d given her.
They walked in silence for a bit. Then Rolen asked, “May I ask you something in return?” Merrin hesitated, then nodded. “What is your name?”
She let out a small, surprised laugh. “Merrin. Captain Merrin Trafalgar.”
“Merrin.” He said the word as if memorizing it, storing it away somewhere behind those black eyes. “Thank you, my lady.” A moment later, he murmured, “They must trust you immensely. I can almost see why.”
“They?” Then she realized he was speaking of Stevan and Amur. “What does trust have to do with it? They’re pleasure-slaves.”
The glance Rolen gave her was almost pitying. “How much simpler would it have been to lie to you? To hide what they felt for each other? Simpler… and safer. They must have been terrified you’d separate them, sell off one to punish the other.”
Merrin opened her mouth to protest -- but the memory of Amur clinging to her with an almost desperate fierceness as Stevan told her, Believe me, there is no one to whom I’d rather belong, cut short her words.
Rolen was right. That was exactly what they’d been afraid of. “What do you think I should do, then?”
In response, Rolen grabbed her arm and dragged her to him, his mouth covering hers with an urgency that left her breathless. His kiss was wholly inexpert -- rough and abrupt -- yet the hunger in it, as he crushed his lips down upon hers, set her head reeling. His spicy, musky scent filled her nostrils, banishing rational thought so thoroughly that when his tongue prodded lightly against her closed lips, she moaned and parted them.
Hesitantly at first, then with more assurance, his tongue plunged into the wetness of her mouth -- tasting her, exploring her, devouring her.
His huge, work-hardened arms clamped around her, pressing her to his chest. She could feel the thunder of his heartbeat beneath the sturdy ribs, the firm swell of his pecs…
Merrin trembled, feeling desire rake her from her scalp to the very tips of her toes. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Her cunt was on fire, desperate for a connection they could never have.
Just as suddenly as he’d seized her, Rolen turned her loose, and Merrin staggered, crying out in shock. For one second he stared down at her, his massive chest heaving, his eyes, black and wild, burning down into hers. The thin moonlight filtering through the leaves above etched his face, revealing a shocked vulnerability that pierced Merrin to the quick.
Then he stepped back into the darkness, becoming nothing more than a shadow against the shadows of the trees. “Forgive them, my lady. Nobody chooses who they will love.”
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=682
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