Blood Of Kings: The Shadow Mage Read Online Free

full. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen. He was almost afraid to touch her lest she would be revealed as an apparition and would disappear… almost.
    Lust raged like a wildfire through him. He yanked the cloak down from her shoulders. His eyes opened wide in surprise, she was naked. He drank in the sight of her body, her heavy, round breasts and pink nipples, the curve of her hip and neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair. Her eyes met his. His blazed with lust and passion, hers were blank and unreadable. Without a word or even a sign she dropped to her knees. He closed his eyes and gasped.
    No, stop, he thought, this is too quick . He wanted to savour the moment, to savour her. With an enormous strength of will he pulled back and lifted her to her feet. Then he guided her onto the bed. She complied without objection. You’re enjoying this , he thought to himself, genuinely surprised at her reaction. His eyes travelled up the length of her, along her flat belly lingering on her breasts and hard nipples, to her face, creased in rapture. Her body tensed, and a gasp escaped her lips when he ran his hand up her bare leg. He could control himself no longer. She started to groan, pushing her hands against the back wall and wrapping her legs around his hips as his passion grew in intensity.
    At first he didn’t notice her eyes glow, so busy was he wrapped in her warm embrace. He felt a sharp pain in his back, saw her face transform into a hideous mask of terror, all the while he drove into her. She rolled him over and straddled him as her teeth became fangs, her fingers ending in claws. Yet he could not stop, as he built to a crescendo. The mouth that had given him so much pleasure moments before was now a grotesque ruin of needle sharp teeth reaching for his throat. The priestess growled and hissed as she tore at his soft flesh, her face awash in his blood.
    Suddenly she stiffened, and then wailed an ear-piercing shriek of pain. Standing over them both was the mage. In two hands he held a glowing spear which he drove into the priestess’s back. His mouth was moving, but Normand could not hear or understand the words at first.
    “Wake up, my lord. Wake up!”
     
    ***
     
    With a gasp and a shudder the duke was awake. He gulped down ragged breaths as he sat up straight. He swallowed hard, as he took in his surroundings, the small cot he used as a bed while campaigning, the canvas tent all around him. The mage. “What happened?”
    “You were dreaming, my lord,” the older man answered.
    “The Shadow Sisters?”
    “Yes,” the mage confirmed.
    Normand swung from the cot and stood up, looming over the mage. “I trusted you to protect me from those witches!” he bellowed. “You were to be my protector.”
    “You yet live, my lord,” the unbowed mage answered, before turning his back on the duke and walking away.
     

Tomas: Woodvale Village
     
     
     
     
    M oonlight poured through the open window, bathing the entwined couple in its silvery glow. A cool breeze caressed the glistening skin of the lovers, as two bodies and minds became one. Tomas gazed at his wife’s face, marvelling at her beauty. Her eyes were closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, as he gently pinned her beneath him, clasping both of her slender wrists in his, much larger, hands; rough, calloused hands of a worker. She stretched her neck back, as she slid her legs over his hips. Blonde curls fanned out behind her, like waves on a sea of gold. She opened her eyes then; liquid sapphires looked into his own. He clamped his mouth to hers as an urgency built inside him, an unconquerable desire to possess, totally, the woman he loved, to give her his soul, even as she opened herself up to him. But, as their lovemaking built to a crescendo, a loud bang on the front door shook them from the moment. Whoever it was rapped again, urgently.
    “The All Father curse whatever whoreson is banging on that door,” Tomas grumbled in a deep,