Captured by the Vikings, Edric must serve their pleasure on the long voyage home. As the only captive in a longboat full of horny Viking raiders, he must satisfy all of their lustful appetites or die trying. But Edric is desperate for Thorvald, the huge Viking leader, to claim him for his own...
Adult readers only! This 8.000 word erotic romance story contains explict gay sex scenes. All characters are 18 or older.
Excerpt:
"Rest for a while, Leif," Thorvald was saying. "I'll take your place."
The men cheered as Thorvald sat down on Leif's bench and began to row with huge strokes of the long, narrow oar.
Leif stood bent over, breathing hard, his face as red as his hair. He was not as wide-shouldered as most of the other men, and he did not look like the long hours of rowing were agreeing with him.
Leif seemed to sense Edric's eyes upon him, for when he finally straightened up, he glared in Edric's direction.
"Why don't the thrall row with us, Thorvald?" Leif asked in a hoarse voice, still breathing fast. "He's no good to us tied to the mast like a hog. Or are we planning to eat him like a hog?"
Some of the men laughed, and Edric shuddered.
"Not enough meat on him," someone called out. "Fatten him up a bit first."
Thorvald shook back his long white braids and answered Leif seriously, ignoring the laughter. "Thrall's got soft hands, and he's not used to rowing for days on end. He's better where he is."
"What, as an ornament? In that case, let's strip him and make him bend over," Leif leered. "I wouldn't mind another look at that pink little arse."
There was a sudden silence.
Adult readers only! This 8.000 word erotic romance story contains explict gay sex scenes. All characters are 18 or older.
Excerpt:
"Rest for a while, Leif," Thorvald was saying. "I'll take your place."
The men cheered as Thorvald sat down on Leif's bench and began to row with huge strokes of the long, narrow oar.
Leif stood bent over, breathing hard, his face as red as his hair. He was not as wide-shouldered as most of the other men, and he did not look like the long hours of rowing were agreeing with him.
Leif seemed to sense Edric's eyes upon him, for when he finally straightened up, he glared in Edric's direction.
"Why don't the thrall row with us, Thorvald?" Leif asked in a hoarse voice, still breathing fast. "He's no good to us tied to the mast like a hog. Or are we planning to eat him like a hog?"
Some of the men laughed, and Edric shuddered.
"Not enough meat on him," someone called out. "Fatten him up a bit first."
Thorvald shook back his long white braids and answered Leif seriously, ignoring the laughter. "Thrall's got soft hands, and he's not used to rowing for days on end. He's better where he is."
"What, as an ornament? In that case, let's strip him and make him bend over," Leif leered. "I wouldn't mind another look at that pink little arse."
There was a sudden silence.
