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Shara Zhad Erotic Tales Book Ten
by Cherry Lee

Category: Erotica
Description: Shara Zhad is the daughter of a warrior chieftain. Kidnapped by a rival warlord and held for ransom she's sure her father won't pay, Shara captivates Rashtan with erotic tales. How long can she entertain her kidnapper and prolong her life? In the last tale, Shara enjoys the indulgent pleasure of being tied hand and foot and satisfied by her man as he tells her a story. Each tale in this series stands alone as an erotic nugget, but the framing tale of Shara and her warlord progresses.
eBook Publisher: Excessica Publishing/Excessica Publishing, 2012 2012
eBookwise Release Date: March 2012


Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [38 KB]
Words: 6210
Reading time: 17-24 min.

"There was once a woman who couldn't get enough of her husband's tongue." Rashtan tested the knots holding Shara's body in suspension then gave her a light push sending her swaying.

The room shifted like a boat rocking on the water and Shara's new husband floated in and out of her vision. A gag filled her mouth so she couldn't repeat the phrase he'd so often used when she'd told her stories: Go on.

He gazed at her with a smug smile on his hard, handsome face and watched her struggle for balance in her bondage. Every limb she tried to move influenced the tension on other parts of her body. Each rope was snug and placed in a specific way to either support or arouse her. One line in particular sawed right over her pussy, dividing its lips neatly in half and rubbing her clitoris until she cried out into her gag.

The moist bit of silk binding her mouth closed was annoying. She wanted to respond to Rashtan, form words to praise his knot-tying skills or beg for mercy if the discomfort became too extreme. But he controlled her power of speech as he controlled all of her body, and now it seemed he was taking over her role of storyteller as well.

Rashtan stooped to check the loop around Shara's ankle which was tied to a support in the wall, spreading her legs apart. When he straightened, a hank of his long, black hair had fallen over his face. He shook it back and that small gesture sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. It seemed his every move, every look and the gravel of his voice all sufficed to turn her insides to molten metal. He was the blacksmith who could draw her from the forge and shape her on his anvil with punishing blows or tender caresses.

"This woman was so desperately in need of her man that his slightest touch could bring her to climax. A whisper of his breath or a blink of his eyelid had the power to send her into convulsions of pleasure." Rashtan gazed into Shara's eyes and his small smile spread. The tip of his tongue casually traced his lips. Her pulse thudded and her pussy wept as it opened longingly for him. She hated and adored the power he had over her.

"The woman talked a lot. She liked to believe her words gave her some control over her husband but in truth she was completely in his power. As is proper. A woman must know her place."

Rashtan moved behind Shara so she couldn't see him, but she felt his presence with every part of her body. There was an invisible connection between them that supported her as much as these ropes did. She was suspended in midair and he was the puppeteer manipulating her strings. There was a rustling sound--perhaps he was removing his clothing--then she felt the heat of his body as he moved close behind her.

She tensed, awaiting his touch. The ropes pressed hard into her flesh as they held her aloft but that discomfort was balanced by her excitement and anticipation. He kept her waiting for so long that Shara imagined she felt his finger touching her back when it was actually the brush of air.

At last his deep voice rumbled right behind her, making the hair on her nape raise. "For what is a woman but an extension of her man, made to please him, bear his children and comfort him in sickness and old age. She is a vessel whose will must be subordinate to his."

Shara trembled with the need to argue. Saliva soaked the silk scarf muffling her voice and wet her chin. In the world they lived in what Rashtan said was true, yet she knew there was more to her than being a vessel. And she knew she meant a great deal to Rashtan although he would deny it till the sun ceased setting in the desert.

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