♥ Excerpt -- Samurai Captive♥

This erotic historical romance novella available Feb. 26, 2008 from Loose ID

This excerpt has not yet been through final copy edits. Please excuse any errors.

 

Picking herself up, Hannah brushed the dirt from herself and glared at the men sent to carry her to their master in the small enclosed palanquin. "Fuck you," Hannah said with a sneer before breaking into a run. She'd just rounded the corner of the whorehouse three doors down when a man stepped from the shadows and grabbed her from behind. Hannah struggled, but was no match for the grip of his strong arms.

"You belong to me," he said in halting English before tossing her over his shoulder with enough force to momentarily knock the wind out of her.

Recovering, Hannah tried to struggle again, this time crying out to those in the streets entering and leaving the various brothels and teahouses. Though they all stopped and stared, no one bothered to come to her aid.

He tossed her into another palanquin and sat half on top of her to prevent her from trying to escape. She couldn't really see his face, but caught glimpses of it in the bobbing light of the lanterns outside the man-powered carriage. He had those striking high cheekbones as so many of the other men here did with not a speck of facial hair to mar  or hide his features.  

Hannah looked away from those piercing black eyes of his that seemed to stare straight through her. She gasped when he roughly cupped her chin and made her face him once more. "Let go of me."

"I own you."

"The hell you say," Hannah muttered. Still, she couldn't deny the little pulsing tingle that hit her low and hard at the sound of that deep, accented voice claiming ownership of her. He was the one. He was the one who'd diddled her so thoroughly through the whorehouse window.

Hannah racked her brain to come up with what she hoped were the right Japanese words. "Why did you buy me?"

"Many reasons," he answered in English.

He shifted, pulled her onto his lap. One arm thrown across her chest, he squeezed her breast with strong fingers like he was testing the ripeness of a melon in the Spitalfields Market. She felt her cunny get wet at the memory of what he'd done before, and she decided that it might not be so bad to be his personal whore. Unless he was a brothel master himself or worked for one.

Hannah made herself whimper and stroked the samurai's forearm. "Strong hands you got here, luv. I bet the Japanese ladies like you touching them all over." She stroked his arm some more, teased his fingers with hers then lifted his hand to kiss it. "Oh yeah, these are real nice, strong hands," she cooed. She kissed his fingertips, swirled her tongue across the calloused skin built up from years of sword training.

She wiggled a bit on his lap, heard his sharp intake of breath, and smiled to herself as they jostled along, carried swiftly by the men bearing the palanquin.  She focused on his thumb, licked the tip and sucked it all into her mouth, pretending she was sucking his cock. He liked that real well, and she kept it up until she was certain his guard was down.

Suddenly, she bit down hard enough to draw blood, then jabbed backward with her elbow. She lunged at the little sliding door and threw herself out onto the ground. Startled, the men carrying the palanquin dropped it, and it tipped sideways. The samurai's loud shouts were all the encouragement Hannah needed to pick herself up and run off the road through the high brush and toward a stand of trees.

 

 

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