King of the Bastards by Keene Brian & Shrewsbury Steven L

Author:Keene, Brian & Shrewsbury, Steven L. [Keene, Brian & Shrewsbury, Steven L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Horror, Science Fiction
Amazon: B0124XGWN4
Goodreads: 25952592
Publisher: Apex Publications
Published: 2015-07-16T07:00:00+00:00

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Two days after they came to dwell amongst the Kennebeck folk, Rogan dreamt of more horrors. His frenzied cries awoke Javan. Javan rushed to his uncle’s side. Covered in sweat, Rogan’s eyes burned dangerous. His fists clenched his bedding.

“What was the dream, my Lord?”

Panting, Rogan waved a hand. “Get out of my sight, damn you. Leave me be!”

Accustomed to his master’s rages, Javan opened the flap, glanced back at Rogan, and walked out into the night.

Sighing, Rogan lay back on the straw mat. Though he regretted imparting his anger on the youngster, he did not want Javan to see how weak and scared he felt.

“Hopeless and helpless,” he muttered. “It’s a wonder I’ve had any sleep at all this night.”

There was a rustling sound from outside the tent. Rogan’s head jerked to the left. His nostrils flared, registering a scent. He grunted and coughed, and then breathed low and shallow, pretending to go back to sleep.

Asenka leapt through the flap and charged him. She shrieked when she saw that Rogan’s eyes were open. Before she could react, he jumped up and grabbed her wrists. Flinging her down on her back, he pinned her to the mattress. Squealing, Asenka slithered under his grip, but could not throw him off her. To avoid her kicks, Rogan pinned her calves down with his.

“You desire me so much, Asenka?”

She twisted and bucked, pushing him upward.

Releasing her, Rogan stood up. He grinned in the darkness.

“You think you bested me?” Asenka asked. “If I’d come to kill, you would already be dead.”

“If you came to kill me, you would have worn clothes.”

Asenka hooked her foot through Rogan’s leg. With a quick maneuver, she knocked him off his balance. Rogan landed on his back, the air rushing from his lungs. Asenka jumped up and straddled him. She slapped his face, and then reached down to grab his manhood.

“I take what I want, old man.” Her hand made a fist and pulled on his member. “Indeed, are you still a man after all these years?”

“I am,” he said, as his manhood stirred, “when need be.”

Rogan stiffened in her hand, and Asenka’s eyes widened. When he started to sit up, she struck him across the face again with her other hand. Grinning, the old king lay back.

Asenka brought the head of his organ to her clitoris. Repeatedly, she ground him against her in small, circular motions.

Rogan did not object. He lay there in contentment, watching.

The woman worked up a slight sweat, grunting deep in her throat. Throwing back her dark hair, she stifled a moan. Her one lone nipple grew hard and Rogan reached for it, but she batted his hand away. Asenka began to tremble. Her breathing quickened. Unable to maintain her silence, she cried out and fell atop Rogan.

“As you can see,” Rogan whispered, “I am still capable of pleasing a woman.”

Her nails dug into his collarbones. “Don’t flatter yourself, barbarian.”

“Really? Then how about…”

Asenka’s eyes widened as she felt his turgid member slap her buttocks. He clutched her hips with his strong hands.

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