Friday, 24 March 2017

#NewRelease - Aldric - #JaneHenry

Title: Vladimir: A SciFi Warrior Romance
Author: Jane Henry
Genre: PNR Romance
Published: March 23, 2017

Freanossian spy R-482

My job as a Freanossian spy is simple: assimilate as one of the savages on the foreign planet of Avalere, and report my findings to my people. I did not plan on entering the circle of sacrifice, the center ring of women willingly giving themselves to the military leaders of Avalere. When the most barbaric leader of the lot apprehends me, I know no means of escape.

By the time he is finished with me, I am not quite sure I want to.


When I see the little one in my midst, I am drawn to her ethereal beauty. I wonder if she has the blood of the gods in her veins. Though she faces execution for breaking the most serious laws of our country, it is an easy choice to claim her as my mate, my chosen one, and spare her life. She is as willful as she is beautiful. It will not be easy to convince the headstrong woman that I am now her master, but I relish the challenge.

It is my privilege and honor to tame her.

Disclaimer: Aldric: A Sci-Fi Warrior Romance is a dark, erotic work of fiction with strong BDSM elements, including the disciplining of adult women. This is a standalone novel with a happily-ever-after.

I thrill at the challenge to tame her.

I know no means of escape. I’m not sure I want to.

She will learn to obey.

When I am done with her, she will know why she calls me master.

She is no willing captive.

Excerpt 1:
“Woman, are you aware of the law of our nation, that bringing such weapons in the midst of a village celebration is a punishable crime?”
I blink. I wonder if I have heard him correctly. Numbly, I shake my head. How could this have gone so wrong so quickly?
The warrior’s grip returns to my shoulders. “I am within my rights to punish the woman for her offense against me, before she’s brought to justice.” My heartbeat quickens as he continues, addressing the crowd. “Though she’s earned a stern chastisement for striking me, perhaps given the festival of the half moon, we should consider her second transgression mercifully.” He pauses. “We’ve not had a foreigner defile our presence with barbaric weapons since the New Dawn. Perhaps mercy is in order.”
I cannot breathe.
His voice lowers so that only I can hear him speak. “Though it will be my duty to bring you to justice, it will be my pleasure. It seems a gift from the gods has graced our presence.”
Gift? I must escape. I must go home.
He steps back and raises his voice, addressing the crowd again. “The festival of the half moon brings with it a cry for mercy. Tonight, I shall serve a dual purpose, and execute both mercy and duty. Though I accept my duty to chastise the woman for her transgression, I accept her as my chosen mate from the circle.” He bows to the women still in his presence in the circle, who return his bow. Some look disappointed, while some have trained their eyes on the other warriors. My head spins.
The crowd cheers. I struggle, writhing against the man’s grip, but I cannot escape.
The man holding me pulls me closer to him. His chin lifts and his eyes focus on the crowd. “You have my word,” he says. “I will see to her properly.”
And with those final chilling, parting words, he pulls me away.
Excerpt 2:
I lift my foot and stomp as hard as I can on his. The breath hisses out of him and his grip slackens, but he does not release me. It is all I need, though. With a swift move, I once again elbow him as hard as I can, and the distraction gives me room to wriggle out of his grip, one arm free. I must hide. It is imperative I get away from him. I will not be captive to this savage. With one final yank, I pull my second arm away from him.
But the moment I turn to run, a piercing pain radiates down my scalp. I howl. The brute has me by the hair.
“That is enough, woman!” he bellows. My head is yanked back, and his eyes are no longer amused or kind, but furious slits as I’m once again pinned in his iron-like grip. “You will be thoroughly chastised for your display of temper,” he hisses in my ear. “Do you wish to be disciplined in public as well? I will save you the mortification even now, if you but apologize and beg my forgiveness. Then you will face your punishment in my chambers, rather than here.”
“You savage,” I hiss. “How dare you!”
He arches a brow. “You will not apologize, I surmise?”
I narrow my eyes at him and glare. His lips part into a wicked smile and he tilts his mouth to my ear. “This is your last chance, little one,” he says. “I am stronger than you, and you shall not win. But you will leave with a scrap of pride if you but do as I say. Do you wish to be punished in front of my people?”
I frown. Will he truly chastise me in such a mortifying manner? One look at his stern countenance, and I know he speaks the truth.
“I…” I begin, stuttering and faltering. I do not know what to say. He gestures for someone to bring him something. I watch, mortified, as the eyes of the crowd focus on me. A man approaches, holding a length of rope. My captor twists the rope about my wrists and pulls the length taut, frowning at me. “The proper response is, ‘I’m sorry, Master.’”
I grit my teeth and defy him with my silence. Master!
I cannot. I will not! No man is master of me.
His jaw clenches. “Very well, then, little one,” he says, and to my surprise, I hear a pang of regret in his voice.
Excerpt 3:
I lean forward and grasp her chin with my fingers, turning her eyes to focus on mine. “When your king asks you a question, you are expected to answer. Now answer me. Do you feel hunger, or no?”
She nods, her eyes focusing on mine. “I do.” A brief pause, then, “But I do not wish to eat.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.
I release her chin and nod. “I see. But I am not giving you a choice in the matter, you see. If you are hungry, you must eat. Now do so, or I shall be forced to feed you myself, but not until I’ve taken you across my knee for your defiance.”
Her eyes widen. I do not wish to punish her again, but I must teach her to obey me.
She eyes the food on the plate. Her bravado wanes a bit, and her voice is small when she speaks. “I don’t know what it is, or what I like,” she says. “I…” Her voice falters before she continues. “It is unfamiliar to me.”
Ah. She is not defiant, but afraid. I nod. “Come here,” I say. Though apprehension colors her eyes, she stands, shuffling her feet as she slowly walks over to me. When she is by my side, I gently push her to sitting upon my knee. “You will try one bite of everything,” I say. I take a small purple grape in my fingers and lift to her mouth. Like a good girl, she opens for the first bite as I put it in her mouth. “Chew, little one,” I say. “This is a grape. It is juicy and sweet, and can be eaten whole without being peeled. We crush and ferment them to make wine.” She obeys, and as she does, her eyes widen.
She swallows. “That is… I do not have a word,” she says with surprise. “What do you call something that tastes wonderful?”
I smile. “Delicious?”
She nods in wonder. “Delicious,” she says, savoring the word as much as she savors the fruit. I am pleased. My kingdom is well known for their flourishing vines.
I pick up a small wedge of cheese. “Again,” I instruct. She obeys, opening her mouth, and I carefully insert a small corner of the wedge. It is a sharp cheese, tangy and salty. She closes her mouth and chews. “As is that. What do you call it?”
“This is cheese.”
“Cheese,” she murmurs. “Delicious.”
She reaches for another grape. Surprised at her boldness, I swat her hand away. I am feeding her now, and she must defer to my leadership.
“No, little one,” I chide. She tucks her chin and her eyes cast down. She is chastened. That is a far better response than the flashing eyes and defiance. She is learning quickly. I continue to admonish her. “When your king feeds you, you will wait patiently.”
“You are not my king,” she says through gritted teeth.
I spin her around so that she is straddling my lap, facing me, and I grasp her firmly, my fingers cupping her jaw. The temptation to punish her again is strong, but I must keep in mind that she is ignorant of our ways, and it is my job to teach her. “You listen well, woman,” I say. My voice is low, a near growl, as I convey my displeasure at her disrespect. “That circle of women that were brought forth were woman who are subservient to the Hisrach. They voluntarily gave themselves to the military leaders of our planet. You entered our presence as one of them. You made that choice. Thus, choosing you out of the ring, I was given headship over you. I marked you publicly. I am your king.”
“You are not,” she whispers, shaking her head.
I am baffled at her defiance. Does she not know what I am well within my rights to do to her? I could have her flogged and imprisoned. I could mount her at my leisure, morning, noon, and night, and call each of my men to do so in turn. I could have her beg at my feet, caged by my bed, and fed the scraps from my plate.
Lesser men have done this, and more.
I lean in closer to her, my eyes meeting hers squarely as I speak. “Little one,” I say. “I am not merely your king. I am your master. You would do well to remember that.”

Excerpt 4:
Why must his imperious nature do such unpredictable things to my body? I drag my feet to him, as I have begun to fear what my body will do when I draw close. But I must obey him. He is impatient, and I fear I have pushed his patience far enough. When I am within arm’s reach of him, he plants his hands on my hips and pulls me between his thighs. The warmth of his legs presses against the outside of mine. His eyes are heated, and he is almost frowning, but not quite. I reach for the dress. It is shimmery, reflecting the light that streams in through the window, a lovely, vibrant blue. I am not surprised at the length and weight of it, light and airy, as the heat of the day has already begun to rise. I do wonder what it will cover.
“No, Carina,” he chides. “It is my duty to dress you.”
My arms instinctively cross on my chest. He is to see me stripped? He has only seen my nakedness when he has bared my bottom to him. I tremble. What choice do I have but to submit? Resisting him now will earn me a punishment. And part of me—though I do not wish to admit so, and will not to him—wants to be bared to him. His eyes are fixed on mine, no doubt watching my reaction to his command. I know already that he is prepared to punish me if I disobey.
“Uncross your arms, please,” he says. I swallow, slowly obeying him, trembling at the loss of protection I feel with my arms crossed. He places one large, warm hand on the small of my back, and pulls me even closer to him, so that we are practically embracing. When I am near, he moves his hand up further so that he is now grasping the back of my neck. He threads his fingers through my hair. My heart is thundering so that I can hardly hear myself think, his near proximity intoxicating. I like the smell of him, though I could not describe it. He smells clean, strong, and powerful. With his hand on my neck, he leans in to me, bringing my face so close to him I can see the depth of his dark eyes, and I realize just before our lips meet what he is going to do. I begin to pull away, scared of my mouth meeting his, but his touch grows firmer, almost forceful upon my neck, and I cannot help but allow him to have his way.
I don’t know what to expect, but the contrast of his sharp whiskers and soft lips take me by surprise. His mouth is warm and soft, his lips full and urgent. Though I do not know how to react, my body responds of its own accord. My knees grow weak. I am thankful he is supporting me with his legs. I am not sure I would remain standing.
My pulse beats rapidly, warmth spreading from the top of my chest down to my feet. The throbbing quickens between my thighs, as one of his hands holds my neck and a second lifts the edge of my tunic and engulfs my bare bottom, the sting at his touch oddly welcome. He continues to kiss me, his mouth moving over mine, and I begin to respond without knowing what I am doing. I both feel and hear his responding growl.
After a moment, he pulls his mouth off mine. “Do not try to pull yourself away from me again, Carina,” he instructs. “You are mine to do with as I will. Am I to assume that you have never kissed a man, much less coupled?”
I close my eyes briefly. My mouth is dry from discussing such things with him! I feel a faint flush creep to my neck and cheeks. “No,” I whisper. He raises a brow. “No, my lord,” I quickly amend.
He nods slowly. “Your failure to respond properly will only be allowed for a brief time, little one. The next time you fail to address me correctly, the flat of my hand will remind you.”
Again, the prickle of excitement pulses between my thighs. I nod. “Yes,” I stammer. “Yes, my lord.”

Excerpt 5:
“You will not be allowed pleasure now,” I say, as I pull away from her. My voice is hardened, my tone corrective as I address her. I must teach her. “Today, I will not pleasure you unless you please me. Now, you will lie there while I prepare for the day. Do not move. Do not speak.” I stand, and walk to where my sword belt hangs. I take it from the peg, the sound of the metal buckle clinking as I walk back to where she lies. I double it over and slash it against my hand, the sound of the leather striking my palm like a gunshot. She jumps, but maintains her position. I straddle her from behind and lean over her, my entire body flush against hers, my legs on either side of hers as I envelop her, my mouth coming to her ear. I place the folded belt in front of her. “If you disobey me, I will punish you.” My hardened cock against her backside throbs. I press up against her, and she pushes back against me.
“Be quiet, Carina. Think of your obedience to me. Prepare yourself to submit.” I grasp the rim of her ear with my teeth and nip lightly, then flick my tongue against the place where I nipped. She shivers. “You taste delectable,” I whisper. “I mean to eat my fill of you. But first… you must obey.” I reach my hand to her hair, wrap my fingers around it, and pull, lifting her head while I whisper in her ear, “Will you obey me, sweetness?”
Her eyes are closed, her breathing labored. She swallows, trying to nod but it’s difficult while I am holding her like this.
“Yes, my lord,” she pants. “I will obey.”
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About the Authors
Jane Henry
Jane has been writing since her early teens, dabbling in short stories and poetry. When she married and began having children, her pen was laid to rest for several years, until the National Novel Writing Challenge (NaNoWriMo) in 2010 awakened in her the desire to write again. That year, she wrote her first novel, and has been writing ever since. With a houseful of children, she finds time to write in the early hours of the morning, squirreled away with a laptop, blanket, and cup of hot coffee. Years ago, she heard the wise advice, “Write the book you want to read,” and has taken it to heart. She sincerely hopes you also enjoy the books she likes to read.
Connect with Jane & Maisy:
Twitter: @janehenryauthor