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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

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Once more the muscle tightened in Vindan’s
cheek. “Aye, Your Majesty. Very clear.”

“Do not believe because you are our son
that we will show leniency to you,” the king continued. “We would not have done
so this time had it not been your brother bidding us indulge our compassion and
clemency toward you.”

Seyzon shot his uncle a surprised look.
From the corner of his eye he saw Vindan staring at him with brow furrowed.

“Why would you do that?” Vindan asked.

“Aye, Seyzon,” the king said, turning his
head toward Seyzon. “Why
would
you do that?”

“I’ve no idea,” Seyzon replied. “Mayhap a
foolish error on my part?”

“Or as an act of mercy?” the king pressed.
“You issued forgiveness when none was given you, perhaps?” He gave Vindan a
steady look. “Mayhap you are the better man?”

“Some things you cannot forgive,” Vindan
said.

“That is very true,” Seyzon agreed. “They
cannot.”

“This conversation has run its course. Go,”
the king said, waving a dismissive hand at Vindan. “No need to pack. Your
things are already aboard our flagship. We shall expect you back at court in six
months.”

Vindan gasped. “Six months?”

“There is much to discuss with the Burgon,”
the king told him. “Less time would not see the subjects fully covered. Now,
go! I am tired of that petty, vengeful look that has become permanently stamped
on your arrogant face. Be gone!”

Vindan bowed stiffly, cast Seyzon a puzzled
look then pivoted on his heel. He marched back the way he came with his body so
rigidly held he looked like a walking post.

“Uppity little gobshite,” Kellan mumbled
under his breath. “Rylan Bakari will take his pretentious ass down a peg or
two.”

“The Burgon will eat him alive,” Seyzon
replied, glad he wasn’t the one the Emperor of Aduaidh Prime was expecting on
his palace steps.

“Chew him up and spit out the pieces if I know
Ry,” Kellan joked. “And I do.”

“You’ll have to tell me how you became
acquainted with the Burgon,” Seyzon said.

“I will but you need to go find your
lady-wife. She will want to make sure your ego survived your encounter with
your twin.”

Seyzon smiled. “Thank you, Your Majesty,”
he acknowledged with an inclination of his head. “You are a wise and benevolent
ruler.”

“Fucking A, we are,” Kellan agreed with a
wink.

Epilogue

 

Her skin was like silk as he trailed his
hand over her taut little bottom. He slipped his fingers along the deep cleft
that ran between her cheeks and smiled when she writhed beneath his touch. She
was lying on his belly with that sweet little ass in the air—the flesh
tightening as he stroked that warm divide once more.

She lifted her head and looked around at
him. “You are distracting me, milord,” she accused.

His smile became a wolfish grin and he
wagged his eyebrows at her. She sniffed, tossed her head and returned her wet,
hot mouth to his cock—drawing him deep within that slick cavern, rubbing her
tongue along the underside to drive him mad as she sucked him. In return, he
dug his fingers into her ass to part her cheeks so he could run his own tongue
between them.

Her feet pushed hard against the headboard
behind him and she made a little whimpering sound deep in her throat that
vibrated through his hard cock.

“Like that, baby?” he asked in a gruff
tone. He lapped at her again then thrust his tongue at her wet folds, tickling
her with the tip.

A quiver ran through her and she released
his cock. She sighed then laid her cheek on his thigh.

“I can’t concentrate when you are teasing
me like that, Zonny.”

“Woman, I’m not teasing. I am fully
serious,” he said then slipped his thumb into her rectum.


Zonny!
” she cried out and her body
tensed around the intrusion.

He drove in and out a few times then
removed his thumb, chuckling as she squirmed.

“You are a wicked man,” she said as she
rolled off him and sat up. She tossed him her panties that were lying beside
her pillow.

He wiped his thumb then dropped the panties
on the floor. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

“I need to check on the boys.”

“You need to fuck your man,” he declared.

She swung her legs from the bed in
preparation of getting up but her ass had barely left the mattress before he
hooked his arm around her waist to pull her down. Before she could scoot away,
he had her once more lying atop him—this time on her back. He locked his legs
over hers and covered her breasts with his hands.

“Unh unh,” he said when she tried to
wriggle free. “You ain’t going nowhere until you fuck me.”

“No?” she asked, prying at his hands.

“Nope. Not going nowhere,” he stated.

His cock was still hard and sticking up
between her spread legs.

“I don’t see how I can fuck you, lying
where I am,” she protested.

He remedied that by flipping them both over
so she lay pinned beneath him with his hands molded tightly to her breasts.

“You were saying?” he crooned into her ear
as he jacked his hips forward to slide his cock along her wet folds. He flexed
his hips up and down, stroking her with his hard length.

“Did I say you were a wicked man?” she
asked in a breathless voice.

“You did, indeed,” he replied.

“I misspoke.”

“Did you now?” he countered.

“I did.”

“Tell me, milady,” he whispered. “What was
it you meant to say?” He flicked his tongue in her ear.

She cocked her shoulder in reaction to the
wet probe. “That you are an evil man,” she replied.

“Evil as the day is long,” he acknowledged
then pulled his right hand from under them to take hold of his cock. He put the
tip to her entrance. “Shall I show you just how evil I can be?”

She lifted her ass. “I am at your mercy,
milord.”

“Aye, dearling. That you are.”

With one sure stroke he drove his shaft
deep within her warm sheath.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

He was home.

She
was his
home. His hearth. His heart. The rest of the world could fade away.

 

About Charlotte Boyett-Compo

 

Charlee is the author of over eighty books.
She was married 43 years to her high school sweetheart, Tom, who passed away in
2009. She is the mother of two grown sons, Pete and Mike, the proud grandmother
of Preston and Victoria and the giddy grandmother of great-granddaughter Amber
Dawn. She is the reluctant house mother to seven obnoxious felines she believes
are alien infiltrators from the planet Kys'r'azz Prime. A native of Sarasota,
Florida, she grew up in Colquitt and Albany, Georgia and now lives in the
Midwest.

 

Charlee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

 

 

 

 

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directly or you can email us at
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anthology

Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction II
anthology

Fated Mates
anthology

Ghost Wind

HardWind

In the Arms of the Wind

Kiss
of the Wind

Passion’s
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Windverse
1: Pleasure’s Foehn

Windverse
7: Craving’s Chinook

WesternWind
1: WyndRiver Sinner

WesternWind
2: Reaper’s Revenge

WesternWind
8: BlackMoon Reaper

WindWorld:
Desire’s Sirocco

WindWorld:
Longing’s Levant

WindWorld:
Lucien’s Khamsin

WindWorld:
Rapture’s Etesian

Ellora’s
Cave Publishing

 

 

 

 

 

Winter of Thorns

 

ISBN 9781419992940

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Winter of Thorns Copyright © 2015 Charlotte Boyett-Compo

 

Edited by Shannon Combs

Cover design by Allyse Leodra

Cover photography by Shutterstock

 

Electronic book Publication March 2015

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are
registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this
book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing
without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

 

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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get
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