eBook Details

His Saxon Slave

By: Danielle Fonda | Other books by Danielle Fonda
Published By: Allure Books
Published: Jan 02, 2011
ISBN # 9781452466576
Word Count: 37,924
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Categories: Romance>Historical Medieval Romance>Erotic Romance


His Saxon Slave by Danielle Fonda - Romance>Historical Medieval

Lord Bonar De Sky known as the Black Boar by his legion of warriors lays siege to the Saxon stronghold of Garth. The Saxon wench, Kiana, is captured helping Welsh bowmen escape off the cliffs. Bonar's second in command wants her whipped as the enemy. But Bonar impetuously decides to keep her as his slave.

Kiana is forced to Bonar's tent, stripped naked and bound against escaping. Now she is the fierce Norman warrior's slave. When Bonar breaks the siege, he returns to his tent wild-eyed with the blood lust of victory, and he is intent on taking his Saxon slave beneath him. "Berserkers" Kiana's people call warriors like Bonar and she fears that the strong Norman lord will take her heart and soul as no man has done before.

But when the liege-heir, Sinnot, demands Kiana as his spoils of war it takes Bonar's strength to hold his beautiful Saxon slave. This story is a rich Medieval tale, where a slave is a slave, and warriors can be rough, yet still, darkly handsome barbarians.
Reader Rating:   4.0 starstarstarstar (8 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating:   lipliplipliplip
As the conqueror, and he must admit an arrogant one, Bonar wanted to enter the fallen stronghold of Garth pompously. All of his riches were taken out and displayed. Heavy gold bands for his wrists and upper arms. Silver beads braided in long strands of his black hair. Rich furs over the back of his warhorse and a long fur-lined mantle over his broad shoulders. There were twenty flag standards of black, gold's, and reds. His army marched in a file, showing their power, their weapons, and their fearsome Norman warhorses.

Bonar looked behind him as he sat atop his slowly moving warhorse to the truest prize of them all. It was his Saxon slave, with her wrists tied together by a rope-lead that he carried in his hand. She was led by the rope, walking behind his warhorse, shown as his conquered slave.

He had dressed her in naught but a gauzy white under-dress, so that her feminine beauty was displayed as a coveted prize to have captured. God would strike him sinful, because the gauze shift was so sheer, it clung to the chubby mounds of her breasts, allowing the shadowy circlets of her nipples to clearly show through. The peaks of her nipples were twin protuberances jutting against the gauze. Her hips were fulsome and round, and they were forced to swing more fully with her walk, because of the rope leading her.

His impish prick answered to the lustful sight of her freely bobbing breasts and her honey-spun hair dancing around her saucy wench’s ass. The slope neckline of the airy gown she wore slipped heedlessly down her milky white shoulders and not a man in his legion could keep his gaze from the provoking sight.

A sneer lifted a corner of Bonar’s straightly chiseled lips, while his arrogance fed on the envy. He was the lord and master. It was befitting that his men should envy him and it was just that he had picked the surest prize. A fortnight of swiving and he would naught tire of his golden pagan with her lips, pouted and full, looking as if kissed with the color of rosebuds.

He watched her gaze skitter to his gaze beneath the curve of her long curling eyelashes. The blue of her eyes was like the richest velvet, startling against the delicate blush staining her cheekbones. That blush was evidence of her striking exposure . . . of her near nudity. It chagrined her and it humbled her, only as it raised his prick to new heights to be the Master of such delicacy.

“Standard high!”

Bonar cricked his neck looking back at his bearer, awaiting the further announcement of who could be arriving upon their flank. A cuckold whoever it was . . . brave enough to tempt his ire this way.

“Marque Sinnot!”

The liege-heir. “Bullocks!” Bonar erupted viciously with his dark eyes lifting to glare at the sight that should not be within his gaze this swiftly.

Onward came the sight of the Marque Sinnot, who was the son of Bonar’s liege lord. He was mounted aboard a lily white stallion with stark white fetlocks. Sinnot’s surcoat of ruby rust billowed outward with the highly trained prance of his stallion. The liege-heir was not armored. Bonar knew the noblesse Sinnot would not come within a large stepping of a bronzed breastplate of war.

The heir, Sinnot was a maggot. A bane in Bonar’s side, with his ringlets of brown hair and much too handsome smirk. Lord Sinnot was a jealous and conniving man. Spoiled by his placing in life and unworthy of the merest amount of honor from Bonar. And yet . . . the vainglorious man was above him in placing by the slightest of degrees.

Bonar liked to envision that thought, even though it was casting the stone too long. Nay, the maggot was above him, as long as the Black Boar carried his father’s banners to war. And much to his disgust, he did carry them. Not disgust for his liege, the Duke Sinnot, but it was egregious that this put his authority beneath the worthless son.

Yet, the greater loathsome tragedy was that he'd not been warned in time of Sinnot’s arrival, to ward off Sinnot’s gaze from beauty. Men would be whipped for this failing in announcement, Bonar thought savagely, as he watched Sinnot’s lusty-eyed, coxswain gaze, settle unerringly on his honey-haired Saxon slave.

She, who was displayed so voluptuously for a ram like Sinnot’s lecherous oggling. So voluminously and slavishly. What man could deny the power of Master over such a lovesome treat of ripeness? The urge to grasp his slave up and away from Sinnot was a powerful one. So stunningly powerful, it nearly unmanned him for stern seconds of time.

How could this come to pass, he wondered with a new found rage? Slaves were only forced whores, and whores were only forced slaves. All of them to be shared willingly . . . nay, carelessly. Yet, he realized, in a moment that bared his teeth fiercely, that he vehemently detested the thought of this.
Reader Reviews (2)
Submitted By: carrie5215 on Apr 6, 2011
Very hot read.
Submitted By: junecharles73 on Jan 30, 2011
The cover picture for the book was way off, but other than that the novel was an okay read.

His Saxon Slave

By: Danielle Fonda