Solstice Sacrifice

Romance, Erotica
Cover of the book Solstice Sacrifice by Ava Lore, Brittle Divinity Press
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Author: Ava Lore ISBN: 1230000032880
Publisher: Brittle Divinity Press Publication: November 25, 2012
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Ava Lore
ISBN: 1230000032880
Publisher: Brittle Divinity Press
Publication: November 25, 2012
Imprint:
Language: English

The sun has hidden its face, and ice grips the land. In the days of old, a virgin would be sacrificed to the lord of the forest...

Headstrong Klara is the only woman to defy the lecherous advances of Master Kazmer, the head of her village. When she violently rejects him yet again, Kazmer resurrects the old sacrificial ritual and offers her up to the god no one believes in any longer, hoping days without food and water will persuade her to submit to him. But when the God comes to collect his due, he wants more than just a dead body. Can Klara prove to him she could be a worthy queen and bride?

Solstice Sacrifice is a 20,000+ word erotic novelette. Warning! Contains enthusiastic virgin defloration by a horned god hung like a stag, rough and reluctant oral and anal sex, masturbation and breeding. 18+ only please!

EXCERPT:

With exaggerated care, he moved his nose to the crook of her throat and shoulder, where her cloak still hugged her tightly, and inhaled, taking in her scent. Her body responded, drawn toward him like the air into his lungs.

“You are defiant,” he said at last. “A woman of spirit. The first of your kind in many, many years.”

She didn't know what he meant, only that his voice warmed her from head to toe.

A hand caressed her cheek, and, gently, the god turned her face towards his.

"Open your eyes, Sacrifice," he rumbled.

That voice bypassed all rational thought. She wanted to obey it, no matter the cost. Klara opened her eyes and met his.

Dark and deep, his gaze collided with hers, and his mouth—full and sensual and entirely human—quirked at her. Her eyes were drawn to it and she wondered, dreamily, what it would be like to nibble on that mouth. Then his lips parted and a deer tongue—smaller, fit for his smaller jaw, but the tongue of a deer all the same—swept over them, and Klara snapped back to reality.

The reality of sitting in a cave, chained to a wall, as a sacrifice for a god.

She lifted her chin and met his eyes. "I'm ready," she told him.

He smiled wider.

"No," he said. "You are not."

He placed his fingers—rough and calloused and filled with strength—against her mouth. Heat radiated out from where his skin met hers, and Klara blinked, forcing herself to focus. She couldn't feel these things. They were not holy, not with men, and certainly not with a stagman. Shaking beneath his touch, she rubbed her thighs together, restless, uncertain.

Then his hands moved to her shoulders, and he pulled her forward in a sudden, rough motion. With a cry, Klara tumbled into him and he rumbled deep in his chest, a ghost of the mating call she had heard.

Realization dawned, and Klara began to struggle. The cuffs on her wrists rubbed over her raw skin, bringing tears to her eyes as the stagman ran his hands over her virgin body. Unclaimed territory fell to him as he yanked on her dress, his brute strength ripping the fabric. Cool air hit her and Klara sobered further though the heat between her thighs was mounting. The lips of her cunt were aching and swollen, her breath coming in quick, short spurts as the beast roughly worked his way into her clothing. She squealed when a calloused palm closed over her breast and squeezed, sending a rush of desire through her body.

No, no, no, Klara thought as he reached around and grabbed her ass. No, no, no. But she was powerless to resist him, just as she was powerless to resist the traitorous responses of her own flesh...

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

The sun has hidden its face, and ice grips the land. In the days of old, a virgin would be sacrificed to the lord of the forest...

Headstrong Klara is the only woman to defy the lecherous advances of Master Kazmer, the head of her village. When she violently rejects him yet again, Kazmer resurrects the old sacrificial ritual and offers her up to the god no one believes in any longer, hoping days without food and water will persuade her to submit to him. But when the God comes to collect his due, he wants more than just a dead body. Can Klara prove to him she could be a worthy queen and bride?

Solstice Sacrifice is a 20,000+ word erotic novelette. Warning! Contains enthusiastic virgin defloration by a horned god hung like a stag, rough and reluctant oral and anal sex, masturbation and breeding. 18+ only please!

EXCERPT:

With exaggerated care, he moved his nose to the crook of her throat and shoulder, where her cloak still hugged her tightly, and inhaled, taking in her scent. Her body responded, drawn toward him like the air into his lungs.

“You are defiant,” he said at last. “A woman of spirit. The first of your kind in many, many years.”

She didn't know what he meant, only that his voice warmed her from head to toe.

A hand caressed her cheek, and, gently, the god turned her face towards his.

"Open your eyes, Sacrifice," he rumbled.

That voice bypassed all rational thought. She wanted to obey it, no matter the cost. Klara opened her eyes and met his.

Dark and deep, his gaze collided with hers, and his mouth—full and sensual and entirely human—quirked at her. Her eyes were drawn to it and she wondered, dreamily, what it would be like to nibble on that mouth. Then his lips parted and a deer tongue—smaller, fit for his smaller jaw, but the tongue of a deer all the same—swept over them, and Klara snapped back to reality.

The reality of sitting in a cave, chained to a wall, as a sacrifice for a god.

She lifted her chin and met his eyes. "I'm ready," she told him.

He smiled wider.

"No," he said. "You are not."

He placed his fingers—rough and calloused and filled with strength—against her mouth. Heat radiated out from where his skin met hers, and Klara blinked, forcing herself to focus. She couldn't feel these things. They were not holy, not with men, and certainly not with a stagman. Shaking beneath his touch, she rubbed her thighs together, restless, uncertain.

Then his hands moved to her shoulders, and he pulled her forward in a sudden, rough motion. With a cry, Klara tumbled into him and he rumbled deep in his chest, a ghost of the mating call she had heard.

Realization dawned, and Klara began to struggle. The cuffs on her wrists rubbed over her raw skin, bringing tears to her eyes as the stagman ran his hands over her virgin body. Unclaimed territory fell to him as he yanked on her dress, his brute strength ripping the fabric. Cool air hit her and Klara sobered further though the heat between her thighs was mounting. The lips of her cunt were aching and swollen, her breath coming in quick, short spurts as the beast roughly worked his way into her clothing. She squealed when a calloused palm closed over her breast and squeezed, sending a rush of desire through her body.

No, no, no, Klara thought as he reached around and grabbed her ass. No, no, no. But she was powerless to resist him, just as she was powerless to resist the traitorous responses of her own flesh...

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