The Earth King’s Bounty by Cordova Skye
Ninia is the Bride: untouched, beautiful, and chosen as the annual sacrifice to the god of fertility and the fields. Her purity will be offered up on his earthen altar, and if he is pleased with her, the bounty he sows in her womb will ensure her people’s prosperity for another year.
It is a heavy burden of responsibility for a young woman, but as the ritual proceeds Ninia feels her own feminine power welling within her. When she meets her divine husband, it will be as his equal, and he will have to claim her before he can take her.
This sizzling short is over 7000 words of sexy, fertile fun, with Ninia being pursued, plowed, and passionately filled to bursting.
Description
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About the author:
Cordova adores telling tales of the erotic and exotic, with consent ranging from dubious to enthusiastic, and likes to fill her stories with fertile, bulging bellies getting the worship they deserve.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Slowly, he knelt, god before mortal, and reached for her with his big hands. “Is it done?” he asked, a smile playing across his lips. “Are you caught, my queen?”
“Well caught,” she breathed, his touch sending a jolt through her. Her heart pounded for another reason, now, and the pulse beating through her body centered in her belly and between her thighs. “Well caught, my king. I beg of you, let me know your bounty now.”
“No queen should beg,” he murmured. His hands closed, soft and dry, over her hips; his lips were soft as they pressed a kiss to her flat stomach. He inhaled deeply, as if she were the finest perfume. “Let us usher the harvest in.”
She had thought she knew heat already but the touch of his mouth to the skin beneath her navel, the exhale of his breath, made something catch fire within her. Ninia’s own labored breath caught in her lungs, a tremor shivering through her as a spark caught fire beneath her skin, deep inside of her. Eyes, deeper green than any mortal’s and full of something ageless that she couldn’t name, looked steadily up at her as the god settled back on his heels, leaning in to press another kiss to the crisp dark curls between her thighs.
The fire was melting her from the inside, her core pulsing warm and wet. The god’s hands slid down to her thighs, urging her stance wider with the firm stroke of his thumbs against her skin, the heat of his breath stirring over her exposed flesh. Ninia trembled and for one moment the insecurities of the morning and all the days leading up to it rose up like a bubble inside her; she was mortal, untouched, unsure, and at the same time she was the Bride, burning and ready, caught on the cusp with her mortality fading and the goddess within her not quite realized. The god was watching her, eyes bright and burning, and she had only to look down between the frame of their bodies to see the heavy, erect curve of his desire for her, standing proud between his muscled thighs. Ninia touched her tongue to her lips, feeling the heat pulse within her, expectant and waiting as the god crouched at her feet. “I am ready, my king.”
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