Please welcome the lovely, the talented and the all round wonderful Justine Elyot today. She’s brought princes!
I’m here to talk about my new Xcite novel, The Rule of Princes, which is the sequel to Princess In Chains, a fantasy erotic romance set in a fictional world divided into kingdoms.
I must admit, when I came up with the title, I was hoping everybody was as keen on a storybook prince as I am. Popular culture is awash with them after all – Prince Charming, Prince of Thieves, Prince and the Revolution, Prince Harry, the list goes on. Some of them are even real. Yes, princes are where it’s at.
And my book has three of them! The Princes of Thren are regent rulers and brothers, their father the king having succumbed to dementia. Let me give you a rundown.
1. Prince Maxus – as the eldest prince, he likes to consider himself the senior of the trio, but his brothers have found their ways of undermining his fancied authority without upsetting him too much. He is a golden boy: fair, handsome, athletic and hearty. He works hard, plays hard and shags pretty hard too but – whisper it – he isn’t the sharpest tool in the box.
2. Prince Rolan – the middle son is a warrior born and bred, with campaigning skills honed in the Threnish army. He is gallant and charming and likes to think of himself as romantic – sometimes too romantic for his own good. He is perhaps still a little immature, but growing into his princely role and learning to make the wise, rather than the popular, decision.
3. Prince Neverin – the youngest boy is also the cleverest, with a secretive nature and a talent for strategy. Pale-skinned and dark-haired, Neverin also has the most adventurous sexual tastes of the three and it would take an extraordinary woman – or man – to capture his heart. He is far too busy enjoying himself in the state chambers and the bedchambers for that…
If you’d like to make the acquaintance of my princes, the book is available now at Amazon.
Here is an excerpt:
She needed to feel those things now.
So she lowered herself carefully on to his erection, moaning with recognition of the way it made her stretch. Oh, had it been so long? Yes, it had. How had she done without it for all this time?
‘Mm, yes, keep doing that,’ she invited, for Taran was playing with her breasts with one hand, the other holding her steady beneath her buttocks.
She kissed him violently, pushing herself with infinitesimal little jerks further and further down. She released his mouth to hear his high little ‘Ah’. What a satisfying sound that was – of captivation and helplessness. She felt powerful, taking him in, closing her muscles around his girth, watching his expressions of bewildered rapture.
He bent to suckle her breast and she began a slow gyration of her hips, grinding even lower. Now, at last, it was all the way in. She was connected again.
Taran, a natural pleasurer, moved the hand that had been occupied at her breasts down her belly and into the little pocket of space between their pelvises and their conjoined sexes. She thought he was going to touch his own prick, but he pushed his fingertips upwards instead, splitting her lips and finding the hidden bud between them.
‘Oh, clever boy,’ she breathed. ‘Clever.’
‘Never let it be said that Valish men are ignorant of the arts of love,’ he said.
‘It is said, I’m afraid, especially in Thren. But I am very pleased to find it untrue.’
And now the time for talking was past, for the breathing of each quickened and became heavy. Sula rocked gently back and forth on the rod that sat fatly inside her, enjoying her control over the sensations that ensued. Taran clearly relished the way her breasts squashed into him in rhythm, the taut nipples stroking his chest hair. ‘Mm, oh,’ he said, before shutting himself up by kissing her.
Their eagerness, the open air, the impromptu nature of it all took Sula far away from her troubles and deposited her under a new and blissful sun, just for the time it took to achieve her climax and urge Taran towards his. She knew only the hot grab of his hands, the forceful thrust of his loins, his greedy mouth and tongue pushing at her. When the bright ball of her orgasm began to roll on its inexorable path, she looked up, through the sunlit trees, tore her mouth from Taran’s and shouted for joy.
He was intoxicated with her, saying her name over and over as his own peak was reached. He took care to uncouple her before she could take seed from him, and she was grateful for his good sense, having temporarily mislaid her own.
They held each other until they began to feel clammy and cold.
‘You know what you said earlier,’ murmured Taran into her ear, ‘about staying here and living off the land? I really think I could now. If you were with me.’
Sula smiled and kissed his brow. ‘That was something I really needed. Thank you. But we have a journey to complete. Let’s wash ourselves off in the river again and make a start.’