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Erotic Romance and Female Sexual Autonomy

By Ella Laurance (Guest Blogger)

As most of you can probably relate to, I haven’t the time to read just for fun as much as I would like. I do however succumb from time to time to the Siren song of browsing through those short descriptions that lure us readers in.

It was actually after I wrote The Art of Pleasure, that I started to notice on a conscious level how many erotic romance stories are about women who are not aware about their true sexual needs until they meet that one special man. And how much the story of Marie Dewey and her billionaire husband Trevor wasn’t about that.

I understand the attraction. In a life full of very real responsibilities and few ways out, these stories offer a hot little, but essentially innocent fantasy.

But there might also be another reason. Even woman who enjoy their sex and sexuality to the full, are living in a world where the messages are more often than not mixed or even downright condemning about women who step out of line. The whore/Madonna dichotomy is still alive and kicking, though not always as easy to spot as it used to be. I’m not so naïve to think that this fact has no bearing at all on how we lovers of written erotica make our choices of what to read and write.

For instance, since I came out as lesbian in the Spring of 1979, I've gotten very few really negative reactions from straight men me when I told them I was sexually attracted to women. However, I can’t count the number of men who took it as a personal insult that I hadn’t slept with men before I turned to women, or that I wouldn’t try it with them. Having sex as a girl with another girl was a-okay, but discovering all for myself what I wanted? What was wrong with me? Didn’t I know all lesbians (except the butches, of course) are in fact bi-sexual? 

 

Now that I’m many moons older and in a relationship with my wife for 32 years, the questions stopped. But it taught me that as an adult woman my sexuality isn’t my own the way a man’s is his, even if that man is gay or otherwise non-confirming. (One could even argue that most homophobia is a form of misogyny, but that’s a discussion for another time) 

 

Does that mean it’s wrong to enjoy the "innocent woman learns about sex from an experienced man" stories? Of course not! That would be nothing short of replacing one unwritten rule by another one. However, I still think it’s interesting to look at what we perhaps haven’t noticed before and wonder if what we see might form a pattern. 

 

Blurb of The Art of Pleasure:

Marie Dewey collects paintings and sexual experiences with different men, and her billionaire husband Trevor loves nothing more than to fulfil all her wishes…

Billionaire Trevor Dewey has two great talents—making money and loving his wife, Marie. Marie, in her turn, has two great loves—her husband and art. She's also a sexual freethinker who enjoys one-night stands with other men in the company of her own husband.

Trevor wants nothing more than to make his wife happy, so when she falls in lust with his personal assistant and best friend, Callum, and Callum returns her feelings, he decides to take both of them to his private island off the coast of Scotland for a weekend of sex. And both men will bring Marie to several unbelievable heights of pleasure during one weekend.

All three know this will be a one-time thing only before life returns to normal

Excerpt:

“You want to help me to undress?” Callum asked.

“It’s faster when you do it yourself.” Marie took Callum’s hand in her own and brought it between her legs. “My pussy, your dick. Any more questions? To avoid any misunderstandings, I don’t usually come from being fucked, I do however love the feeling. So fuck me, come whenever you come and allow me to enjoy this in my own way.”

She wasn’t unfamiliar with the speed with which men could get naked if they were exceptionally motivated, but she was pretty sure Callum was in her top ten. She wasn’t surprised at all that he was hard as a nail and she guessed he was glad she wanted what he wanted as well. Foreplay was a great dish on any menu, but not always what the guests preferred at a particular moment.

She turned on her back again and spread her legs in invitation. “Now!”

He slid in so fast and easy she could scream for joy. She wrapped her legs around his body, trapping him close to her. He still managed to move, first in stuttering unfamiliarity, but soon in a staccato rhythm.

“Yes, this, simply this…” she encouraged him.

He seemed to understand her words, because he sped up his thrusts, slightly changing his angle to facilitate even deeper penetration.

He felt different inside her than Trevor, but then so had every man she had taken to the island. His cock seemed to stretch her just that little bit more, but the depth of his penetration was perhaps slightly less. And how good he smelt, with a typical rich masculinity that she’d only fully become aware of now he was fucking her. He wanted her, and it made her want him even more.

“God…so good…” She loved his strong body on top of hers, because it reminded her of her own strength. She moved her hands over the muscles of his back, appreciating their subtle play under Callum’s sweat-stained skin. The tension inside her grew, building up to a point where it would either burst out in orgasm or simply linger until it would fully subside. She accepted the sensation for what it was, not wanting it to lead to a particular goal right now. She would come in her own sweet time, experience had taught her that much.

The Art of Pleasure is available at

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=2137

and also at Amazon, AllRomance and other places. 

You can find me at: http://ellalaurance.wordpress.com/ 

 

Review: Coming Together In Flux

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Coming Together: In Flux

Edited by Nobilis Reed

Coming Together, 2011

Most of the anthologies I review have fairly concrete themes. During the past year, I've tackled collections on the topics of lesbian lust, dysfunctional romance, one night stands, female submission, and gay sex in the afternoon. Indeed, one sees calls these days for stories focused on particular sexual events: anal sex, oral sex, orgasms, spanking. Books like these target specific audiences who want to know exactly what they can expect from the stories inside.

When I picked up ComingTogether: In Flux, a charity anthology on the slippery topic of “transformation”, I had little idea what I would find within. Having finished the book, I find myself astonished by the myriad creative ways the authors of these tales have interpreted the theme. About the only things these stories have in common are originality and exceptional craft.

The book begins with Angela Caperton's “Lawman”. An aging, retired member of an elite cadre of morality police enjoys the first blow job of his life as he tries to let go of the craving for the chemicals that made him a superman, but denied him desire. Even with a stranger, the experience of unfettered sex changes everything.

“Final Note” by Shanna Germain comes next – a wrenchingly honest portrayal of a woman whose long-time partner lies dying.

===

“Clara, Clara, Clara.”

My name slips from her lips, caw-cawed as though she is a dying creature on a sidewalk and not a full- grown woman. Not an adult, not a lover, not the former fabulous Raven Freemont. Just a fragile thing, wings crushed, beak croaking out the only word it can still remember. I need to end it.

===

The darkness of this tale is relieved by startling passion, as Clara burrows into the body of another woman to soothe the pain she can scarcely admit.

After this difficult story, editor Nobilis Reed transforms the mood completely in “Actual Size”, a bawdy tale featuring hypnotism, ménage and self-expanding breasts. He takes the anthology theme more literally than many of the other contributors, balancing philosophy with raunchy physicality. His other story later in the volume, “Explosion”, features psychological transformation, as the fallout from a mysterious blast turns women into insatiable, demanding dominants.

In Xan West's “Ready”, an uncertain young man trusts his rough but loving Daddy to take him where he needs to go. I'd read this story before and loved it. I found it every bit as intense and poignant upon rereading.

Ann Regentin's “Meltdown” is more an essay than a story. In luminous prose, she draws an extended comparison between the ruined, twisted environs of Chernobyl and her own experience of sexuality mutated by disability. Defying expectations, she paints her life as fundamentally changed but not necessarily diminished.

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I, too, have stabilized, and I think I seem asexual to most people, just as Chernobyl seems quiet under its concrete lid. Who would imagine a disabled woman otherwise?

But in solitude, I have gone feral, able to give in to every desire, and fiercely defensive of my territory. Female sexuality is a powerful force, one that most cultures put enormous time and effort into controlling, and mine is now unchecked. It can go anywhere it wants, burning through what was supposed to contain it, consuming everything manmade and transforming into something no one has ever seen before, including me.

===

Several of the stories feature science fiction themes. Peter Tupper's “Upgrade” envisions an increasingly depopulated world as humans elect to “upgrade” their consciousness, transferring their memories and cognitive processes to a sort of group mind. Two late adopters – strangers - come together for a last, wistful coupling before relinquishing their physical bodies and their separateness.

“Feast of the Incarnations” by Gayle Straun is a wildly imaginative political fable of corrupting power and liberating sexuality, where the ruling class do nightly backups of their consciousness so that they can be reincarnated in the event of their assassination.

The book includes several stories about shape shifting: ancient vampires in Skylar Sinclair's “Love Everlasting”, werewolves in Mildred Cady's “Three Moons”, finned and scaled mer-creatures in Jhada Addams' “Water Shaman”. Meanwhile, Kissiah Aiken's “Transformative” deals with a real world shape shift, as the narrator crosses genders from female to male – and then realizes this is only the first stage in her change.

Possibly the most erotic tale in the mix is the lovely “Unlock My Heart”, by R. Taylor, about a female automaton, created as a servant for humans, seeking her one true mate.

===

She knew her lock by heart, having examined it with mirrors and fingers often. It was set low in her abdomen, decorated with silver filigree that stood out against the deep purple of her ceramic skin. It had a rounded upper opening extending to a long rectangular hole, seven tumblers waiting inside to be depressed by the properly-shaped key. The man gazed at her lock as his key extended with a small grating sound. It seemed to be a match, with its curved top and oblong base, and crenellations that looked as though they would fit into hers. But only the test would tell.

===

The ending of this story took me by surprise – but then, pleasurable surprise was a common experience for me while I was reading this volume.

If you're looking for a whole book full of stories about the specific kinks that push your buttons, you might find Coming Together: In Flux a disappointment. If you're more like me, capable of being aroused by a novel premise or a stunning sentence, buy this book.

All profits from the sale of Coming Together: In Flux benefit the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Alliance.

Review: Control

Control by Charlotte Stein

Accent Press Limited, 2010

ISBN 9781907726491

As any devoted reader or author of erotica knows, complementary fantasies are a potent aphrodisiac. Dom and sub, voyeur and exhibitionist, butch and femme - whatever the pairing, it's an incredible rush to realize that by satisfying your personal kink, you're giving your partner exactly what he or she desires. Charlotte Stein's original and arousing novel Control uses this dynamic to wonderful effect. In Control, two rather quirky and twisted individuals gradually discover the erotic power of their mirror-image desires.

Madison is the introspective, insecure, perpetually horny proprietress of Wicked Words, a bookstore that specializes in erotica. She's a woman who lives as much in her mind as in her body, fiercely determined to chart her own course in life, yet puzzled by her seeming inability to commit to a relationship. When she hires shy, nerdy Gabriel Kauffman as a shop assistant, she tries to convince herself that it's an intellectual decision. After all, she could scarcely hire other applicant, Andy, who somehow managed to fuck her during his job interview. Despite Gabe's social awkwardness and bookish appearance, though, he stimulates Maddie's fertile imagination to the point where she can't leave him alone.

Gabe Kauffman is the most anti-alpha hero I've ever encountered. He's big and rather clumsy, with thick glasses, heavy eyebrows and tons of body hair. A thirty year old virgin, he was brought up so strictly by his possibly schizophrenic parents that he's been permanently warped. At the same time, he's obsessed with sex, a diligent student of dirty books who, as he puts it, is good at putting theory into practice. I adored him.

As Madison teases and flirts with poor Gabe, she begins to understand his desires: to be controlled, "forced" to do things he's afraid to try on his own, pushed beyond the limits imposed by his strange history. Meanwhile, she discovers that taking what she wants coincides almost exactly with giving Gabe what he craves. They're perfectly matched. Every encounter - even those in which cocky, ambi-sexual Andy plays a role - brings them closer. Yet Madison almost loses Gabe when she underestimates his deep-seated lack of confidence in himself.

The description above might suggest that Control is BDSM erotica. It's true that the book includes a bit of spanking, some humiliation, and lots of power games. The interactions, though, are not really typical of the BDSM genre. Maddie's far too much at the mercy of her emotions and physical reactions to be a true top. She really has no idea what she's doing; she's just following her instincts. Her scenes with Gabe rely on inspiration and intuition, and she's as much a slave to her arousal as Gabe.

Control is written in the first person present tense. The intimate perspective allows Ms. Stein mix sensory detail with minds-eye fantasy. Ms. Stein has a breathless, dizzy, stream-of-consciousness style that conveys a sense of urgency. Madison is a sharp observer, marking every subtle shift in Gabriel's behavior and mood. The sex in Control is fabulously complex and nuanced as a result. Madison is unbearably turned on, most of the time, and you will be too.

He doesn't try to fuck me, however. No - I guess he can't wait for that. He just ruts against me - first over my back and the firm swell of my arse, and then... oh then. He fumbles and finds the cleft between, and suddenly increases the frantic, jerking pace.

I just lie there, and let him. Mainly because I can't believe that the slick feel of his prick between the cheeks of my arse, rubbing and rutting, filthily, actually manages to thrill arousal through me. After that huge orgasm. Still.

'Is this OK, is it OK?' he asks, but it's a minute after he's started and his voice is so up and down that I can't take it seriously. I'm right not to, too, because almost at the same time as those words, his body locks against mine. He grunts so gutturally, it sets my hair on end.

And then I feel the hot spurt of his come, all over my arse and my lower back. Which feels so delicious and dirty, I bite my lip and try not to wonder when he'll be up for another round. I'm guessing it's not going to be soon, because a second after he's done it all over me, he apologises. He apologises for making a mess. For fucking...whatever it was that he fucked.

At which I definitely want to do it all over again. Immediately. Continually. For ever.

Seriously - when can we do it again, for ever?

The book has a happy ending. Madison and Gabriel declare their mutual love and even consider living together. Don't let the romantic elements fool you. Control is twisted, filthy, and deliciously perverse - in the tradition of all great erotica. For Maddie and Gabe, sexual connection leads to love rather than the other way around.

With Control, Charlotte Stein has penned an intelligent, funny, perceptive and hugely enjoyable novel. If you like steamy, messy, creative sex involving characters that defy the stereotypes, get yourself a copy today!

Review: Amorous Woman

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Amorous Woman by Donna George Storey

Iro Books, 2012

ISBN 978-1-9056-1917-7

I was musing about erotica recently and realized that all my own novels, as well as most of my favorite work by other authors, could be viewed as stories about journeys. I'm not talking about travel in space. I am referring to an intellectual and emotional exploration, a progression in which characters begin in one psychological place and end up somewhere quite different, changed, more perceptive, perhaps more accepting of themselves, with an improved understanding of their needs and desires. Of course, many mainstream novels can be seen in this light. In erotica, however, the characters' sexual activities and discoveries are the agents of change.

Donna George Storey's wonderful first novel AMOROUS WOMAN is an exceptional example. In the case of Lydia, Ms. Storey's heroine, there is a physical voyage as well, to the fascinating and frustrating culture of contemporary Japan. However, Lydia's real journey is internal, as she strives to balance her sometimes reckless hunger for new sensations with her need for human connection.

Lydia flies to Kyoto eager to taste all the cultural and sensual delicacies that Japan has to offer. Fluent in Japanese, she finds the country more accessible than it would be to most, but in her relationships with its people, and especially its men, she is repeatedly disappointed. She becomes an English teacher bedding college boys, a dutiful wife to a handsome but overworked salaryman, mistress and companion to a powerful tycoon, an exclusive female escort, a sex performer. The delicate perversity of Japanese sexuality continually attracts her. She aches to be included, but no matter how correct her grammar and how outrageous her sexual behavior, ultimately, she remains the gaijin, the stranger.

Ms. Storey takes us back to meet Lydia in her teens, when she first discovers the power of her sexual imagination. From her worldly older cousin she learns the difference between "good" and "bad" girls; it is abundantly clear which category she belongs to. Her imaginary lover encourages her to be audacious:

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"You have become a bad girl since you started listening to your cousin. But of course I'm very glad that you're taking her advice. The world would be a happier place with more women like her."

"I'm not sure I have the nerve to do what she said," I confessed.

"Of course you do. I want you to do it and you don't want to disappoint me. Why don't you pick up that brush and press it against your virgin hole?"

With a quivering hand, I reached for the brush and held the rounded end of the handle against my secret lips.

...

"Very good. I knew you could do it. Now move it in and out slowly. I know you want to open yourself for your lover. And for me."

This is indeed exactly what I wanted to do. Somehow he always knew just what to make me do, as if he could see desires inside me I didn't myself understand.

======================

Lydia brings this openness to experience, this willingness to take risks, with her to Japan, where it carries her into adventures and even dangers. What she really craves, though, is to belong.

======================

"What brings you to Japan, Lydia-san?" Dr. Shinohara asked.

...

The honest answer was that I came because I craved adventure, a life of surprises, a non-stop feast of exotic sensual pleasure, anything but a job in investment banking like most of my college friends. But at this point it was probably better to give the doctor my safe, standard line.

"I came to Kyoto to learn traditional Japanese dance."

"I see. Do you enjoy wearing kimono?"

Should I tell him the truth now -- that it feels unspeakably sexy to wear one and I loved being bound by the column of cloth hobbling my legs and the obi's snug embrace of my breasts? It probably meant I was a sexual masochist, but I didn't really want to admit it. More exciting was the promise of transformation through that bondage, the chance to shed my foreign awkwardness for the Japanese dancer's gliding grace.

"Yes, I do like wearing kimono, but it's a challenge, too. I have to move my body in a different way, so maybe I can understand, just a little, what it's like to be Japanese. I think it is the Japanese way, in dance and in life, to transform ..." I pulled my English-Japanese dictionary from my book bag and quickly leafed through it for the right word.

"Constriction," Dr. Matsumoto read out for me.

"To transform constriction into art."

"Lydia-san understands Japan very well," Dr. Shinohara said to his friend.

...

I bowed my head, my cheeks burning with pleasure. I'd not only been seen, but embraced. How could he have known that was my secret fantasy - the fantasy of all true Kyoto gaijin - that our wandering spirits had reconnected us with us with our lost host?

======================

Lydia's journey takes years. As she delves deeper into Japanese culture as well as her own sexual complexities, she feels more rather than less alien. She begins to take greater risks, flaunting her extravagant sexuality because she can, rather than because she really wants to. Finally, confronted with a man who desires and understands her, whom she probably could love if he weren't married, she has the courage to stop and examine her behavior and desires, and to choose a new path.

I enjoyed Amorous Woman more than any erotic novel I've read in a long while. Ms. Storey writes with insight and humor. She vividly conveys the sensual experiences of living in a new land.

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Each day of my first year in Kyoto brought some wonderful new discovery - a mysterious fox shrine tucked away in a winding alley, the beguiling sweetness of bean jam wrapped in soft rice pastry, a lovely boy bowing nervously as I ushered him into my apartment. Even in the recollection there is magic. The whole year seems to fold in on itself like a dancer's fan, leaving one perfect day in high summer.

=============================================

As someone who has made her own voyages of discovery into strange cultures, I strongly identified with Lydia and her lust for new experience, as well as her desire to be a part of the wonders around her.

However, Ms. Storey understands more than just foreign cultures. She is an expert at expressing the complexities of sexual relationships. Amorous Woman includes both real encounters and some deliciously extreme fantasies that Lydia entertains. I found the real-world scenarios more exciting. Ms. Storey manages to show us Lydia's doubts, fears and confusion while still keeping the sexual temperature turned up to the maximum.

Amorous Woman is definitely arousing but it is much more than a light-hearted bedroom romp through Japan. It is a believable and moving tale of one woman's journey of sexual self-discovery. If you don't mind some serious content mixed with your sex, I recommend it highly.

Review: The Melinoe Project

The Melinoe Project

by D.L. King

Renaissance E-Books, 2007

ISBN 978-1-60089-024-6

The Melinoe Institute is a scientific organization staffed by a coterie of brilliant, powerful women and dedicated to the study of male sexual response. When Ray Reynolds, office temp and amateur fetish photographer, agrees in return for a handsome stipend to serve as a subject in the Institute's latest research endeavor, he embarks on a sexual odyssey that will change his life forever. By signing the contract and the multiple release forms (which promise “no permanent damage” but authorize the Institute to perform “any necessary emergency procedures”), Ray enters a world of female dominance that veers wildly between his fondest dreams and his most terrible nightmares.

D.L. King's The Melinoe Project is brilliantly executed, hard-core femdom fantasy. During his twenty-four hours as a Melinoe guinea pig, Ray endures every sort of stimulation imaginable, as well as some that no reader will have imagined before tackling this novel. Even before the project begins, Ray becomes a sexual object, as Melinoe staff gather an exhaustive set of anthropometric data. They measure and record the length of his erect nipples and his penis, the shape, depth and capacity of his rectal cavity, the volume of sperm in a typical ejaculation. Ray knows that he is attracted to women who use him and give him orders, but the women of Melinoe push him to his limits and far beyond.

The clinical detachment of the Melinoe researchers is a façade. They are devoted to their work, but they also enjoy it. Ray turns out to be a remarkably durable and sensitive subject. Each member the Melinoe staff wants a chance indulge her special talents and explore Ray's reactions. There's Donna, for example, the expert in electro-stimulation, and the fearsome Susan, who can carve her initials in your back with her bull whip. Then there's Sunny, the grad student recruited to Melinoe after the director happened to read the younger woman's thesis on the psychology of female dominance, who finds herself strongly attracted to the robust and pliant subject.

Ms. King's creative and kinky mind invents all sorts of technological devices that can be applied to tease and torture a submissive: micro-electrodes that can be inserted anywhere, including the anus and the urethra; a lab table of flexible, conformable lucite that can be programmed to assume any shape or enforce any type of bondage; a wheel-chair with a built-in, electrified butt plug. The novel is steeped in pseudo-scientific detail that makes the fantasy more vivid. The no-nonsense manner of the Melinoe staff throws Ray's visceral experiences into strong relief.

Although The Melinoe Project portrays some of the most extreme fem-dom scenes I've read, it nevertheless offers a responsible and enlightened view of the relationship between a Domme and her submissive. There is no abuse here. Ray eagerly consents to participate in the project, and the Melinoe staff, even when whipping, shocking or burning the poor man with melted wax, never lose their concern for his long-term health and well-being. His compliance and endurance earn their respect. The occasional humiliation that they inflict is intended to arouse him, not to belittle him.

Exploring and transcending limits is an essential aspect of submitting to a dominant. The women of Melinoe understand this. As Sunny says to Ray, while he is recovering from his ordeal:

There will be times when I may require things from you that you that you're not sure you can give. Ray, you know I care a great deal for you and I want you to believe that I would never ask anything of you which I don't believe you to be capable of doing.

Dominant and submissive are partners in a quest for mutual pleasure and fulfillment. Even when the slightly mad scientists of the Melinoe Institute are doing their worst, they never forget this truth.

Born of a Dream

By H.C. Brown (Guest Blogger)

My new paranormal romance Dance to the Wolf came to me in a recurring dream. My dreams moved through snowfields, forests, and a dark medieval castle with a flag waving from the ramparts depicting a wolf with blood red fangs. In my dream, a young man was fleeing a pack of werewolves.

This dream continued for some days. Then it turned to a white tiger bounding through the snow.

The next day I began to write the story about a slave, Eton, sold on his majority to the sex slave market. His life inside the notorious Den was at least tolerable until his master sells him to the Alpha of a werewolf pack.

I needed a hero and introduced Raz, a white tiger shifter. The story is about Eton’s escape from the werewolf with the help of his lover, Raz. Time is running out, on the full moon, Eton will become the werewolf’s lover. I enjoyed writing this story and there is more to tell about the lives of these remarkable tiger shifters. So, I created the Tull Pride Series. This is book one, a standalone story. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Buy from Total-E-Bound

Buy from Amazon

Blurb

Sold as a pleasure slave to a werewolf, Eton’s survival depends on the love of Raz. Can the tiger shifter rescue him before certain death on the full moon?

In love with a slave from another realm, the Tull Alpha, Raz, plans to free Eton and take him for his lover. 

However, politics cause a delay and Raz arrives late at the auction to find Eton’s master has sold the handsome young man as a pleasure slave.

Six months later, Raz discovers Eton dancing to entice customers in the infamous Den of Depravity at Tennabolt Gate. The knowledge that the Beast of Darktrees, has bought Eton for his own form of wickedness throws Raz into an impossible position. To rescue his young man means war between the shifters and the werewolves. He must regain Eton’s affection because his love is all the slave has to sustain him in the hands of the Lycaon.

Excerpt From Dance to the Wolf

Zulka City—Land of the Five Gates

"Have you lost your wits?" Ransom glared at his brother. "You are the Alpha. What in heaven’s name are you doing sniffing around a slave boy in Zulka City?" He gave Raz an appraising look. "And why are you dressed in rags? Have you no shame?"

Anger stirred Raz’s inner cat. He pushed the albino tiger back into the dark recesses of his mind and turned to face his brother. "I’m in love."

"No. You’re in lust. You can’t have this slave’s ass, so you’ll hang around him until he comes up for auction even though owning a slave is against our laws." Ransom pushed the hair off his sweat-soaked face. "Come home. You’ve important matters to attend to." He sighed. "In any case, this slave cannot be your mate. He’s not a shifter." He grasped Raz’s arm. "This love you speak of is a passing fancy."

Raz wrenched his arm away. "You’re correct, brother. I am the Alpha and I will make the decision on who to love or not." He bared his fangs at Ransom. "And I don’t require you to inform me of my duty to our pride or our laws. Leave me now. I’ll return home in a couple of hours."

"Don’t come growling to me if the sexy little slave steals your purse." Ransom turned on his heel and strode with purpose into the crowded city streets.

The market square sizzled below the blinding summer sun. Heat shimmers rose above the flagstones and reminded Raz of the distortion of air around shifters at the point of morphing. He stepped under the canvas awning attached to the rear door of the tavern, and leant back in the shadows. The dry coolness from the brick wall seeped through his buckskin jerkin. He peered down the dusty street, searching the crowd. People moved around the multitude of stalls in a noisy throng. The free citizens dressed in brightly coloured garments stood out against the slaves in homespun brown and indigo.

A fat man with limp greasy hair stood a few paces from him holding a bunch of squawking chickens by the legs. Raz wrinkled his nose. His heightened senses had overloaded with the stench of unwashed bodies, fish and animals. Another variety of scents wafted on the breeze to confuse him, in a combination of fragrant flowers and the aromas of the stalls offering food delicacies.

Anticipation fluttered Raz’s stomach. In the distance, Eton pushed through the crowd, a basket over one arm and his long golden hair, prominent amongst the dark-haired masses. The slave made his way toward him. Raz smiled at the sight of the delicious young man he loved beyond reason.

Warmth curled around his heart. A long purr escaped his lips. The slave’s perfection in male beauty made him weak in the knees. His young man’s kisses had become desperately passionate of late. Of course, he wanted Eton as his lover. Raz’s cock grew hard at the thought of bedding his delicious friend. One more day and he will be mine. The connection between them had grown into something special. Raz counted each hour between their brief interludes.

Gods, he had fallen in love with a slave. A free man and the Alpha of the Tull Pride, he moved around the realms of the Five Gates unchallenged. He chewed on his bottom lip. Each time they met, his presence put Eton in danger.

He understood the law. In Zulka City, for a slave to consort with a free man without his master’s consent brought instant death. Raz ground his teeth. He hated the clandestine meetings with his friend and the constant arguments with his brother over his relationship. In truth, all affairs of his pride fell into insignificance at the thought of Eton. He could not get enough of Eton. He craved the taste of his lips and the delicious flavour of his love’s innocence.

Eton’s master planned to auction him on the breaking dawn. As a virgin, he was a valuable asset to the pleasure market. He had the fine bones of a female. His skin, oiled daily, was soft to the touch. His handsome features and almond-shaped emerald eyes had caught Raz’s attention more than six months ago. To find such a jewel in a filthy marketplace had astounded him.

Two days had passed since Eton had clung to him sobbing with the news that his master planned to sell him. Delighted at the chance to purchase Eton and set him free, Raz had calmed his young man. He smiled to himself. Soon, they would leave this place and go to his home in Dragonspawn Gate. Thank the gods, his realm’s laws prevented slavery. For once Eton could live in peace, far from the constant harassment of the Slave Masters.

Ten paces away, Eton tossed his long golden hair over one shoulder and moved into the shadows alongside the buildings. A man jostled the young slave. Raz’s tiger rose to the surface, roaring with jealousy. Raz curled his hands, and needle sharp claws broke through his fingertips. The cat rippled beneath his skin. A soft whine spilled into his head.

"You must bond with Eton soon before he is lost to us. He may be small, but he is well past his majority."

Raz pushed down the cat’s need to emerge. Morphing in a busy marketplace would reveal his identity. "I crave to be with him, but Eton’s scent doesn’t lure me as a mate should. I’m not sure if he belongs to me, cat. Perhaps, he is slow to maturity because of his size. In time, we will know the truth."

The slave moved gracefully towards him. His narrow sexy hips swayed with each delightful step. Raz held out a hand. "Eton." He pulled his love against him. His cat roared with pleasure. Raz inhaled the man’s fragrance and sighed. "I’ve missed you."

The urgent need to kiss Eton overwhelmed him. He pushed open the back door to the tavern and drew him inside.

"I’ve missed you too." Eton followed Raz into a small room. "I don’t have too long. I must return to my master within the hour." He rubbed a hand down Raz’s back.

With a moan, Raz cupped Eton’s chin and lowered his head to capture his soft mouth. Eton curled his long fingers in his tunic. He parted his warm lips and explored the contours of Raz’s smile with his inquisitive tongue. With a long purr, Raz deepened the kiss. The slave moaned, and returned his embrace with passion.

Raz used his tongue to stroke every crevice, marvelling at the young man’s delicious flavour. He brushed Eton’s fangs with his lips, so like his own and yet many of the species of humanoid in the realms had fangs. If only this delightful man had been cat, his brother could have had no objection to them being together. He gripped Eton’s muscular buttocks and squeezed. Eton mewed against his lips and pressed his hard shaft into Raz’s thigh. So innocent and yet so demanding, his sweet man would have to wait a little longer for the joy of his lovemaking.

He dragged his mouth away and gazed down into Eton’s hooded green eyes. "You know how much I want you, but a kiss is all I can offer until tomorrow." He smiled. "It’s only one more night. Know that I love you and we’ll be leaving this place for good soon."

*****

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A Tryst of Fate, M/M Time Travel Romance.

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