“As soon as I had seen her, I was lost. For Beauty’s wound is sharper than any weapon’s, and it runs through the eyes down to the soul. It is through the eye that love’s wound passes, and I now became a prey to a host of emotions…” Achilles Tatius‘s, Leucippe and Clitophon
Described by the ancient Greeks as the “madness from the gods”, love at first sight has haunted Western society for centuries. Even today you would find it hard to open a romance novel where the hero and heroine didn’t instantly fall for each other or at least develop strong emotions, such as lust or a mind altering passion.
So today’s theme for WHAT’S THE SCENARIO WEDNESDAY explores LUST AT FIRST SIGHT. For this week’s post I’m using an an excerpt taken from Frozen in Time, a paranormal featuring time-travel and hot Vikings.
Theme: Lust at First Sight
Setting: .Norway 979 AD
Scene: Disguised as a man, Reese Johnson has found herself on the cold shores of Norway as the pawn of an demi-god out for revenge against an arrogant Viking Warlord, Eirik Sigurdsson. But her secret quickly becomes apparant when all the slaves are ordered to take a bath.
FROZEN IN TIME
A smile curled Eirik’s lips as Thoren marched the offender by sword point down to the water’s edge. Since the slave had balked over taking part in lördag, the boy was going to break his will by making him take the plunge.
“The frost will be here before he’s done,” Bjarni quipped, for the slave had proceeded to slowly remove his clothing one piece at a time, until only his muddied cloak remained.
Having grown impatient with the antics, Eirik marched down to the shoreline. He reached out, grasped the collar, and ripped the garment from the slave’s shoulders. “Blessed Loki…what mischief have you cooked up,” he whispered, taking in the now-exposed small waist, rounded hips, and sloped backside.
To confirm his suspicions, Eirik snatched the wrap from the slave’s head, and a mass of brown locks twisted into tiny braids tumbled free over her shoulders. He lifted his hand to take one of the braids in his fingers. But before he could, she bounded over the soft sand of the riverbank, waded into its chilly depths, and then dove under.
“Aaaccckk!” the woman cried when she finally split the water’s surface. A smile touched Eirik’s lips at her reaction to the water’s cold embrace. But his mouth watered when her brown breasts jiggled as she slung the long braids out of her face.
He was so enthralled with her antics, he didn’t hear Bjarni approach. “Did I mention that she’s not included in the trade.” Taking his silence as acquiescence, Bjarni stepped toward the water, but Eirik held up his sword to block his path.
“We have defended each other’s life on many occasions, my friend, but you will have to fight me to claim her for yourself.”
“You are talking holmgang! You would fight me over a slave?”
Eirik looked at the slave in question as she waded offshore; the sun’s rays had turned her dark skin to a golden brown. He felt his balls grow tight.
“Of course, it will not be to the death, but you will be black and blue on the morrow.”
Bjarni’s tall frame shook with anger, yet he remained quiet. Eirik sheathed his sword. He scooped up the woman’s discarded cloak and then walked down to the water’s edge. Upon noticing his approach, the woman ceased her ablutions.
After several drawn out moments of her dark gaze raking over him, she swam back to shore. With each stroke of her slender limbs, his cock thickened with an urgent lust. And when she finally emerged from the water holding her head high, he could practically smell his desire for her. It hung thick and heavy between them like a roiling nimbus cloud over a storm-tossed sea, clamoring for release.
If it weren’t for the crowd gathered ’round, he would have thrown her to the ground, wrapped her legs around his shoulders, and sunk his staff deep into her.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he swung her up in his arms and deposited her over his shoulder. Uncaring of the knowing looks of those who watched, and undeterred by the woman’s tiny hands beating against his back, he scaled the embankment and headed toward his keep. In spite of this sudden and unfamiliar brush with modesty, he still needed to slake his lust.
TO READ AN EXCERPT OR BUY THE BOOK VISIT LOOSE-ID.COM
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