Sunday 10 June 2018

New Release The Viking's Possession by Felicity Brandon


The Viking’s Possession 


Release date: Friday, 8th, June, 2018
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Categories: Viking romance, Dark romance, BDSM, Spanking romance, Erotic Romance
Hash tags: VikingRomance, SpankingRomance, #BDSMRomance, HistoricalRomance
Tag line:
War captured her, desire captivated her, but can her Viking captor truly possess her?
Buy Link:
Link to contest which runs until June 15th: https://www.facebook.com/felicitybrandonerotica/posts/2262505567099717
Cover:


Blurb:
After she saves the life of Prince Anders, the Viking warrior who took her as his captive and tamed both her body and her heart, nineteen-year-old Princess Aurelie of Donrose knows that she can never return home again. She will belong to Anders forever, as his bride and his possession, destined to be used and enjoyed as thoroughly, shamefully, and often as he pleases.

Though Anders has proven many times that he is more than willing to punish her bare bottom harshly for any disobedience, with war fast approaching between her brother and her husband, Aurelie puts her own life in danger in the hopes of making peace. But when her reckless gamble goes wrong, can Anders rescue his headstrong young wife before any harm comes to her?

The Viking's Possession is the sequel to The Viking's Conquest, but can be read as a stand-alone novel. It includes spankings, and sexual scenes, including some scenes of sexual humiliation. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.


Snippets:
I mewl at him, desperate to be free of my binds, yet never wanting my captivity to end. “Please, Anders,” I beg him. “Make me yours.”
***
Whatever it is about being taken in hand by a powerful man, Anders has it in good measure.
***
“I do so love to hear you beg, Aurelie,” he purrs, “but no, now is not the time to stop. Your spanking only truly begins when you think you can bear no more, and rest assured my love,” he pauses to land a further three firm strikes to my sore bottom. “You will bear more for me.”
***
There are no words between us now – language seemingly lacking the coherence required to elaborate such a connection.
***
There are no words between us now – language seemingly lacking the coherence required to elaborate such a connection.
***
I surrender to him at this moment, lost to the intimacy every inch as much as the pain had cast me adrift earlier. He loves me, this man. My ferocious Viking invader is as sincere as he is brutal. He’s the sentimental sadist, if such a thing should exist, and right now he is trapped beneath my hot, writhing body.
***
No matter what – no matter how far he pushes me, whatever his expectations and demands – we always create beauty in the darkness he spins.
***
My will is absolute, and my instructions must be obeyed. When you defy me, you will be punished.
***
I do need him. I need him to rule over me. It is what he has always desired, and I feel no shame at asking for it.

Excerpts:
(Please only use ONE excerpt in your post).
Dominant Anders – 18+
Ignoring me, Anders presses on, pushing the phallus inside my ass. I buck against my bondage as it invades me, utterly conflicted by the experience. The ropes make it impossible to prevent this intrusion, and we both know it. This is why Anders has chosen to secure me in such a bizarre way. My sex and my ass are totally exposed, and vulnerable to his every dark desire.
“Feel my phallus claim you, my sweeting.” His voice floats from down between my legs. “You will take this for me for the rest of this punishment, and whilst you do, you’ll remember who is in charge. You’ll remember who can touch, claim, and explore, and who must yield, receive, and endure.”
I groan again, my head now flat against the bedding as the stone fills my ass. It’s not the largest implement, and Anders’ manhood is certainly longer, but the hard, cold stone is different to what I’m used to. It’s odd and unsettling, reinforcing Anders’ point with perfect clarity—he is in charge. He is in control. All I can do is take it, take the phallus and take my punishment.
Once he is finally satisfied that I have taken the length of the stone, Anders swats my ass playfully. “Good girl,” he says teasingly. “You will keep that phallus in place until I tell you otherwise.” His body shifts and his face comes into view over my bound body. “Do you understand?”
I’m nodding even before I’ve had time to process his question. This is what Anders does to me. He takes my usual clear-headed wilfulness and turns it to mush. I can argue, I can push and protest, but in the end, I know I will always submit to this man. “Yes, I understand, my Lofðungr,” I murmur.
He nods, smiling as he leans down to plant a chaste kiss on my panting mouth. “Now, let me pleasure you some more…”
His body slips from view and I squirm needlessly in my ropes. It’s like I cannot keep still because I know now what he has in mind. He doesn’t want to pleasure me at all, he only wants to build me up to the brink of ecstasy, before abandoning the pursuit. He wants to torture me with denial—that is my punishment. As his mouth descends to my pulsating sex once more, I’m overwrought with misery. His ministrations are amazing, his tongue flicking over my excited nib at perfect intervals, whilst the phallus fills my ass in its hard and denigrating way.
Within a moment I am right there again. My mind reels, and I consciously try to control my breathing, reasoning that I can fool Anders. Perhaps if I don’t make my burgeoning pleasure so obvious, I can trick him into thinking I am not at the brink. Perhaps I can achieve my orgasm after all? The idea gives me a glimmer of hope. I close my eyes, willing myself to remain as calm as I can in light of his merciless pursuit of my suffering, but oh, Gods, it’s just too good. Before I know what is happening I am panting again, my nipples beading painfully as Anders takes me right to the brink, before—inevitably—stopping short of allowing me to climax.
This time I screech in frustration, not caring what the consequences of my outburst will be. Damn him! Damn this man who has captured me in just about every way possible. It’s as though this Viking can read my mind, and he knows instinctively when I am about to explode. He is the only man who has ever known me carnally, and it seems he is truly at one with my body.
“Now, now, Aurelie,” he tells me, admonishing me in a gleeful way. “What did I warn you about that pretty little mouth?”
My eyes fly open, and I moan out of instinct, my hips—still rolled forward by the bondage—struggling desperately for some stimulus as Anders shifts from the bed. I’m vaguely aware of him stripping beside me, and then he disappears from my view, striding to the other side of the room. By the time he returns, I’m desperate. The weight of the contradiction afflicts me. The same things that irritate and repel me—the strange bondage, the phallus shoved inside me, and the unrelenting denial of pleasure—also arouse me. I know without needing to check that I am soaking with desire. Anders is playing my body like an instrument.
“Open up, my sweeting,” his voice coos from my left side.
I blink up at his towering naked form. His body is hard, chiselled perfection, and his cock juts out eagerly in front of him. My eyes dart to his hand, which he presents to me. Between his thumb and forefinger is one of the small orange fruits he had taunted me with in the Viking camp. My belly knots in anxiety. I know what is coming next.
“Now, Aurelie,” he tells me, his tone increasingly insistent.
My lips part slowly, my breath shaky with apprehension as I comply.
The expression on Anders’ face is pure lust as he appraises me. “I warned you, my sweeting,” he purrs, and I watch as the fruit moves into view, descending slowly toward my waiting mouth. “I asked for silence, and since you cannot comply, instead I offer you fruit. I’m sure you remember my favourite fruit, Aurelie.” He chuckles at his own words. “I always keep a bowl of fresh fruit in my chambers.”
If he expects a reply, then he gives me no time to offer one. The orange fruit slides perfectly into my mouth, capturing my teeth around its soft flesh. He grins down at me, satisfied with what he sees, and I do not try to resist. The fruit, I suppose, is inevitable. He must have known I would never be able to contain my responses during this penance, even if I hadn’t. This is what Anders had planned all along.
The realisation makes me wretched, or at least it would do if I wasn’t so intolerably turned on.

Sexual Intimacy
I land on the bed, eyelids flickering open and closed as the spasms of pleasure continue to overpower me. Anders shifts his weight on the bed over me, and as my lids fully open, I see him come into view over my face. His gaze is compelling and holds me to bed every inch as much as his body had done before.
“Roll onto your belly,” he commands me, lifting his body weight to give me enough room to spin as instructed.
Once I am in place, he lowers his hard body over my own, spreading my legs apart with his knees. I know just what he will do next, and as though it is some unspoken agreement between us, the edge of his large erection nudges at my wet, exposed sex.
“I need you,” he murmurs, his mouth whispering into my right ear.
“Take me,” I reply, twisting my head to acknowledge his words.
His lips find my own, capturing my mouth in his kiss as he plunges slowly into my empty channel. The scent of my own desire wafts over me, and the reality that his mouth has just pleasured me leaves me overwrought. Between our legs his hard length fills me right up to his testicles. The depth and intensity of the act the clearest sign of his possession of me yet. My mind whirls at the sensation, my mouth opening into a silent ‘o’ as he withdraws, and then slams back into me again.
There are no words between us now – language seemingly lacking the coherence required to elaborate such a connection. His mouth falls to my neck, nipping and kissing my nape as his groin flexes forward, penetrating me over and over, pushing me into a frenzy of desire. I want to speak, to call out, to demonstrate somehow the way his passion makes me feel, but I simply cannot find the will. His hardness pinions me there, grazing my nub into a flurry of new excitement, despite its recent satisfaction. I notice that his thrusts have become shorter, and more insistent, and I gaze back at Anders, marvelling at the look of agonised ecstasy on his handsome face.
Punishment
“How is my captive now?” His tone is deep and intimidating, and the resonance sends a flood of moisture rushing from my core.
“A little afraid, my Lofðungr,” I admit, watching as he strips his doublet from his torso, revealing his strong arms and chest.
His eyes narrow slightly, but he does not pass comment. Instead, he pauses, watching me in silence for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. At length, he moves to a large trunk in place against a far wall, lifting the substantial lid, and identifying something he desires from its contents. He swoops, collecting it, and his gaze is back on me at once, searing into my flesh. “Why afraid?” he asks, stepping back toward me.
Trapped in the confines of his bedcovers, I eye the implement in his hands with trepidation. It’s a lash, much like the one he has used on me before, and memories of those times flood my brain, my mouth drying in an instant. “My Lofðungr, please,” I say, the plea out before I even have time to think. “Do I really deserve such a penance?”
He reaches the opposite edge of the bed, smiling. “Is it for you to decide how your punishment is delivered?”
I shake my head, fear and arousal combining to make me feel giddy. “No, my Lofðungr,” I whisper.
He drops to the covers below, his weight reverberating up the length of the bed to where I sit, curled into something of a ball. “You have no reason to fear me, Aurelie,” he smiles. “After everything which has transpired between us, do you really think I could cause you any real harm?”
I blink away the tears that have collected in my eyes, once more shaking my head at his question. “No,” I sniff, watching him as he slides further up the bed toward me. “But please remember, my Lofðungr, you hold all of the cards here. These are your chambers, your town—your people. I am but a foreigner here—an alien—your most recent conquest.”
His tongue darts from his mouth, licking his lower lip in an unconscious way. “Au-re-lie,” he murmurs in that way that makes me belly clench and my sex yearn for him. “You know me better than this now, no?” He poses it as a question, yet gives me no time to respond. “I do not bring women back to my castle—not ever—not until you.”
There is silence for a moment as I absorb his words.
“I have done a great many things which I am not proud of,” he continues. “I have humiliated and treated you unfairly…” Here he pauses, his gaze intense as we both recall the deeds to which he refers. My face begins to flame at the memory of the things that have transpired between us. “I am a devil, Aurelie. I do not deny it. Yet you saved me, my sweeting, and so now, what am I?”
I draw in a deep breath, hypnotised by his performance. “You are the prince?” I offer in a tiny voice. “You always were.”
He smiles, dismissing my answer with a small shake of his blond hair. “A prince perhaps,” he concedes, “but much more than that, Aurelie. Now I am your devil—all yours—and you are mine.”
My heart is slamming against my chest as he crawls toward me, the black implement still clutched in his left hand. He rips the covers from my chest, exposing my breasts to the cool air once more, before straddling me with his formidable legs.
“You need not worry about my intention, or what you deserve,” he laughs softly. “I want all of your attention on me, right here, right now, do you understand?”
I nod, panting as he lowers his body over me. As he supports himself on his elbows, his lips brush over my mouth, his beard grazing me as he delivers soft caresses, before claiming my lips again. He finds me open and pliant, my mouth yielding for his sweet possession. It’s the most natural sensation in the world, and somehow the power of his kiss gives me strength. I am not afraid. I have come this far—and I do trust him.

About Felicity:
Felicity is a #1 international bestselling, and award winning writer of dark, spanking romance. Head in the clouds, you can usually find her either plotting her next book, hitting the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music. She lives to write though, and is happiest creating desire and kink at her keyboard.
Find Felicity here:
Website and blog: https://felicitybrandonwrites.com/
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