Ah, the romance novels known as Bodice Rippers... so what if the roles were reversed? ~~~
Stud ServiceWeary after a long day’s ride, Sokarra tossed her riding gloves and crop onto the entryway’s mahogany table near the tall pillar candle. The warm glow felt welcoming. Her sister, Valessia, must have remembered to light it, as she usually did whenever Sokarra returned after sundown.
Removing her wide-brimmed dark hat, Sokarra tossed it onto the wrought iron stand. She smiled as the hat settled perfectly. A cloud of reddish dust formed in the mellow gleam cast by the candle’s high flame. Hardly a surprise, since she had spent the day inspecting her vast rangelands and many of the animal herds, in particular one horse herd where some of her most superior stock had been bred.
After extinguishing the candle, Sokarra launched up the long winding stairway, dimly lit by two rising moons. Even though her vigor was on the wane, she kept her rapid pace, her boot heels ringing on the heavy wooden steps.
Throwing open the door to her floor of rooms, she entered the dark interior, illumined only by the amber rays of the smaller moon. Once she had closed the door, Sokarra yielded to her tired muscles slowly sauntering to the brass candle stand that dominated the center of her large receiving room.
The filigreed decorative stand was her height and she easily pulled forth the laser wand from its pocket. Using the wand, she lit the giant beeswax candle’s three wicks, then watched each tiny flame leap to life.
As she freed her hair from two barrettes, she heard a slight rustling of sound that had her hesitating for a bare instant. Someone dared invade her home.
Since Sokarra never invited company at this hour, she figured the intruder was up to no good. No good at all. Tamping down her fury, she shook her waist-length hair as she normally would. Pivoting, she moved with a leisurely stride toward the pair of eyes observing her.
Sokarra felt his predator’s gaze as keenly as she would the eyes of a hungry mountain lion. He stood behind the door of her library office, watching from where the door cracked open.
Sokarra smiled to herself and rested her hand on her hip, next to the handle of her long-lash whip. The prize fool was about to receive a lesson he would never forget.
He...his scent had been disguised, yet her trained sense of smell easily ferreted out his youth and inexperience. His sheer foolhardiness. Impressed that fear did not run through his veins, she followed his stealthy retreat deeper into her sumptuously appointed office.
Before entering, she halted at the lighting panel and pressed on enough illumination to see clearly. There was no way for him to escape, except past her. Unless he possessed some method to open her hidden door, then find his way out her private tunnel.
He made a dash to conceal himself behind the heavy draping in front of her floor-to-ceiling window. Sokarra charged inside, then stopped cracking her whip. The end of the lash struck the floor before him. He halted faster than a stallion who had caught the scent of a mare’s heat.
Not hesitating, Sokarra drew the lash back. With a flick of her wrist, she sliced his sleeve open, exposing his upper arm. He whirled around, facing her. The pale gold-green of his eyes registered, but did nothing to lessen the flames of her rage.
As she did for sport, and to amuse herself, Sokarra repeatedly cut his thick leather jerkin with the strike of her whip. Though, his style of jerkin was typically worn by an accomplished warrior, she didn’t recognize the House he represented.
When the garment hung in neat strips, she twirled the lash above her head several times, then sliced it from his body. The ruined garment fell to the floor surrounding him like so much litter.
His gaze did not stray from her. One of Sokarra’s brows arched at the sight of his chest and loins, virile athleticism at its best.
“Speak,” she commanded while admiring his steadfast nerve.
“Your beauty could not be described.”
After a sharp mirthless laugh, Sokarra raised her whip. She snapped the lash twice splitting each leg of his leather pants, all the way from his waist down to his kneecap. In seconds his lean strong hips appeared, then the leather flopped forward, exposing his manhood.
“Do I continue, scoundrel? Or, do you tell me what I want to know?”
“Your incomparable skill with a whip could not be described, either.” One side of his admittedly sensual mouth curled upwards while a hint of amusement lit his eyes.
Sokarra gave her hair a toss and slanted her hip. Languidly, she coiled her whip. “Whoever sent you on this mission is a fool.”
“As I have been compromised and now cannot move for fear of falling upon my face, yes, I agree with you.”
Sokarra did not care for unanswered questions, his, or any question left unanswered. Danger always owned the advantage. Still, the harm her whip could do to his flesh would not gain her the answers she sought.
Sliding out her dagger, she approached. From his scent she knew he did not prime himself to attack her. Not yet.
Halting close before him, she deliberately gazed at his cock. While bold in size and shape, it was the color that truly appealed to her. His skin reminded her of golden-tinted sand and his manhood was a shade darker, a shade richer.
“Perhaps.” She slipped the side of the blade down his taut loins. “I could use you for stud service.”
Like the warrior he was, he didn’t move. Only a slight alteration in his breathing let her know the affect she had won.
Sokarra knelt, letting the dagger linger against his skin. With a flash of her blade she sliced his pant leg from the opening at his knee to the top of his boot.
“That is, scoundrel, unless you provide me with what I want to know.”
Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she quickly repeated her action. Yielding to gravity, his leather pants, a match for his jerkin, dropped to the floor with soft thud. Sokarra rose upwards, lightly dragging the blade up his inner thigh.
“You would make a pleasing decoration for my bed. Especially as your cock juts now. And...once I cut off your excellently made boots.”
He didn’t flinch, this warrior, despite his youthful age. As she slowly circled him, as she enjoyed the handsome contours of his lithe and beautifully muscled body, nothing fell from his lips.
“So much to say earlier,” she mockingly crooned. “However, as my stud, your absence of words would be preferred.”
“I cannot deny your right to my services as your stud. I have entered your home uninvited.”
Sokarra bent, quickly slashing through the lacings of his boots.
~~~~~~
Happy Reading ~ Savanna Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~~~~
Savanna Kougar is a bestselling ebook author with Siren-BookStrand Publishing. She is also a print author with Siren-BookStrand and MojoCastle Press, and an ebook author with Liquid Silver Books, Aspen Mountain Press and MojoCastle Press. She writes love stories because that’s her deepest heart. She writes in the futuristic/fantasy/paranormal subgenres because that’s her fiercest passion.
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