1,001 Erotic Nights, Part 2: Barbarian's Concubine by Lisa Cach

Author:Lisa Cach [Cach, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2014-08-25T00:00:00+00:00

It was all over but the feasting, and even that was taking on a weary air by the end of the sixth day after Clovis’s coronation as king of the Salian Franks. His people had sat him upon a massive throne of blackened oak: the Lightning Throne, formed from an ancient oak tree charred by lightning. The Franks took that legendary lightning strike to have been a blessing from their god of storms and strength, Donar.

The bloodshed in the great hall seemed to have reassured the Franks of their choice of Clovis to lead them, as if it had been a necessary sacrifice that showed the will of their gods. I got the sense that they may have been suspicious of a transition of power that went peaceably, without at least one rival losing his life.

Clovis was too engulfed in the securing of alliances to have time for me, beyond pulling me close when he fell into bed in the middle of the night. Whatever caring he felt, he displayed by posting guards over me: whether to prevent me from fleeing, or to protect me from those who might wish to kill or steal his pet seer, I did not know. Probably both.

The Franks accepted that the daughter of Nerthus was half human, and I was allowed to dine in the great hall with the rest of the revelers. My companions were often Terix and, unfortunately, Basina, but I also broke bread with Remigius, Audofleda, and the tooth-and-hair man, who I learned was a king in his own right, of a place called Cambrai. He was a cousin of Clovis, his name was Ragnachar, and he looked at me with a lust to which I was not immune.

The thorough plowing that Clovis had given me had sated me for only a day, after which the hunger for touch returned with fresh force. That hunger was my constant companion, a gnawing need that neither food nor wine could appease. In desperate moments I brought release with my own hands, but it was a meager shadow of the joining I craved. I wanted the skin of another next to mine. I wanted a man’s mentula filling me. His seed moistening me. I wanted his mouth on my breast, his cock in my hand. What was my finger flicking on my stamen, compared to that? I didn’t even see a vision, when I pleasured myself; that’s how shallow a joy it was.

So when Ragnachar looked at me with hunger in his eyes, I looked back and saw the tall, muscled thickness of his body, his legs like logs, and his arms as thick as my waist. His face was buried beneath a brown beard, but what I could see of it was pleasing enough. There was no fat on him, only a great mass of muscle layered on a broad frame. I thought his bones must be as thick as a bull’s.

I wondered if his rod was as large.

It was an idle lust on my part, and without intent.

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