Bastard (Brazenbourg 1) EBOOK

Finn was the second son who was never meant to become the crown prince. He was the lesser brother, the useless spare, even the rumoured bastard—at least according to his elder brother Henry, who destroyed everything, including himself, and Finn rose to the throne. Now, the memory of Henry still hangs heavy in the air, and his supporters linger in the shadows waiting to strike. It’s time for Finn to fight back.

For his people.

For the future of his country.

For his wife and daughter.

For himself.

Yet, there are some who will fight dirty, fight with such cold, calculated viciousness, that the end is something no one saw coming.

How far will Finn go to protect the people and country he loves? Come visit Brazenbourg to find out.

This novel features royal families that love one another (even while they annoy or fight with each other), elements of suspense and politics, and a look behind fictional palace walls.

Please note: this book ends in a cliffhanger!

Finn watched the woman he loved, her beautiful body sliding against their sheets as she stood, a nude goddess before him.

“Take your shirt off,” she ordered. “And do it fast.”

He crossed his arms in front of him, grabbing the hem and lifting it off his body in one swoop, along with the undershirt he wore.

She stepped towards him, one hand skimming along his abs then shifting around him to slide along his back. He arched into her touch and fought a groan.

Her hands flowed along the waist of his pants, teasing a little, but it was enough to drive him even more crazy.

“Pants next. These ones you can do more slowly.”

He did as she asked while she moved around to his front again. He tossed his pants aside, leaving his clingy boxers on.

She bit her lip, as if deciding what to do next. “Boxers off.”

He shoved them off, letting out a hiss of breath when his cock was finally free. He tossed the boxers aside and reached for his cock, wanted one squeeze, just one long rub…

“Nuh-uh. No touching.”

He let out a sharp, frustrated breath but followed her orders.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then his dick got harder when she started to move her hands over her own body. Her eyes still closed, she ordered him, “Hands on your head, feet spread. Don’t touch yourself.”

She was going to kill him, in the most delightful, agonizing way.

One of her hands skimmed over her throat and into her hair, while the other slid down her body, first cupping her breast. She teased her nipple, then brought that same hand to her mouth, inserting two fingers, coating them, and then going back to her nipple to play some more.

His hips started moving towards her, his cock wanting her, needing her. Needing that mouth and those lips, and that whole fucking body.

Her eyes opened but barely, and she watched him as he watched her play with herself. Her hand left her breast to trail down her stomach and began to toy with her lips below, even dipping inside, then slipping out to circle her clit.

His hips were thrusting even more.

She strutted towards him, her breasts seeming full and heavy, her hair tumbling down over her shoulders. She brought the hand that had been inside her to his cock and teased the drops of the precum at its head.

Then she lifted that hand to his lips and he eagerly sucked it, tasting herself and himself mixed together.

Her voice was husky, filled with all the need he had, too. “Do you like that?”

He moaned in response, still sucking, still wanting more.

“You do, don’t you? You like the taste of yourself on me. You like the taste of yourself inside me.”

His hips pushed forward, his cock brushing against her stomach. It was true; he loved the taste of her after she was filled with him.

She pulled her fingers out, then put them back in her pussy, moving in and out and coating herself again, before once again bringing it to his cock and rubbing until more precum released from the top.

It was getting tougher for him to hold back. Eventually he’d release everything, which would ruin the game they were playing, and his legs strained from the tension of holding himself in check.

He opened his mouth to take her fingers again, but this time she rubbed and swirled her fingers on her nipple, moaning as she did. Then she wove that same filthy finger into his hair, and brought his lips down to her breast.

He sucked the taste of them both from her once again. His hands were now fisted in his own hair, near one of her hands.

She moved her other hand to his stomach, raking her nails down his abs to below his belly button and he groaned.

“Stop.”

His lips made a small pop as they left her breast, her nipple now glistening.

“Kneel.”

• Pregnancy issues (trouble conceiving)
• Physical assault
• All of Marianne Knightly's books feature sexy scenes and swearing

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