The Star Gods’ Slave by AT Lander
Book 2 in the Of Gods and Men series
General Release Date: 5th April 2022
Word Count: 28,755
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 123
Genres:
EROTIC ROMANCE,FANTASY,GAY,GLBTQI,GODS AND GODDESSES,HISTORICAL,MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
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Book Description
Twin gods, one man, and a secret desire…
Lucius, a handsome and bookish Roman sailor, knows his fate is sealed when he’s captured by pirates and sold as a slave. Yet his new master is far more than he seems and brings Lucius into a world unlike any he could’ve imagined.
The Gemini twins—the roguish Castor and the kindly Pollux—might seem as different as night and day, but they’re a match in gorgeous looks and dominant mastery. Kept apart by fate, the brothers both find their attention drawn to a single, mortal man—Lucius.
Free of his chains and the shackles of custom, Lucius can finally submit to his desire and embrace true love. Yet there are secrets in the star gods’ realm, an ancient darkness with the power to tear them all apart.
Can Lucius save his rescuers from a thousand-year-old nightmare or will three hearts be left broken forever?
Reader advisory: This book contains mentions of slavery, references to death and kidnap.
This time Lucius didn’t dream of the wreck, or not exactly. He was underwater from the start, but he felt no fear, no ache in his lungs. He saw the light again, dancing before him, leading him to the surface. He recognized it now—the Gemini’s Fire, sent by the divine twins who protected sailors. It was a sign of safety, a guide through storms. It drew him up, and up, and…
He woke to the chime of a bell, bright and silvery but coming from nowhere in particular. He felt better than he had in ages, though it took him a moment to remember where he was. Where he was…and what was expected of him.
Lucius picked up one of his new fine linen tunics and bit his lip. He could get dressed, but perhaps he shouldn’t, not for this. No, not for this.
He fought against a mixture of anxiety and excitement, placing his hand on the curtain between his room and his master’s. He could do this. He would do this.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled the curtain open and stepped inside, then stopped dead to stare down at the sleeping stranger. His breath froze in his throat, and his lips parted, wet with the faintest hint of drool at the delicious sight before him.
Clothed, the strange man was already handsome, but nude and splayed out on the bed he put the finest sculptures to shame. Every inch of him was lean, smooth, bronzed perfection, like a god from Olympus. His face was softened by sleep, patch-less and relaxed, with tousled light brown curls tumbling over his forehead. His chest, chiseled without being overbuilt, rose and fell with sleeping breaths. Well-defined abs led the eye down to shapely half-spread legs and the tempting cock that lay between them.
It was perfectly formed, half-hard with morning arousal as it lay against one sculpted thigh. The pink head peeked tantalizingly out of the foreskin, above a shaft that was a little longer and thicker than Lucius’ own. He did the math in his mind without thinking, and licked his lips. It would hit the back of his throat if he took it all the way in.
Yes, it was a disgrace for a Roman to suck cock, but this was under duress, right? Perhaps he could’ve refused or attempted escape, but he had plenty of reasons not to risk it right now. If one of those reasons happened to be a secret, shameful desire to taste that tempting flesh, he could keep that fact to himself.
Slowly, as though in a daze, Lucius took a step forward—then another and another, gazing all the while at the vision before him. He crawled up onto the foot of the bed, carefully bracing himself above the gorgeous, supine form. He leaned down with bated, shaking breaths, then paused. He remembered being sucked before, and had some idea of the technique, but nervousness held him back. After a long moment of hesitation, he simply pressed his lips to the exposed pink head.
The man beneath him let out a little groan, stirring but not yet waking. Lucius kissed the head again, then the shaft, working his way down. The hot skin was musky and salty, masculine and clean. Every taste added to his daring and desire—he wanted more.
He licked a long stripe from the base to the head, drawing a decadent moan from his master. Hot satisfaction curled in Lucius’ gut as he repeated the motion, as that perfect cock twitched and filled, growing still harder. Lucius had done that, made this gorgeous man’s body respond to his touch. He had teased the head until it slipped from the foreskin, made the shaft rise from its nest of tawny curls.
“Mmmmmmm,” the man hummed, low and languid. The sound went straight to Lucius’ own dick. “That’s good…”
The praise sent heat thrilling through Lucius’ bones, making him forget that this was a slave’s duty rather than a lover’s game. He longed to serve, to please, to make the gorgeous man beneath him come.
“Thank you, sir,” Lucius breathed, his heart thundering so loud he could barely hear his own words. He had to do more, to prove himself despite his inexperience.
Lucius parted his lips, trembling with want, and took a cock into his mouth for the first time. It was full, hot and throbbing with his master’s rising pulse. Lucius savored the weight against his tongue, moaning a little as he bobbed his head, trying to balance rhythm and suction and breathing through his nose.
It wasn’t pretty or skillful, but Lucius had to be doing something right. A wanton moan slipped from the man beneath him, one strong hand coming up to tangle in his slave’s hair. The man didn’t push Lucius down or buck his hips up, politely letting Lucius find his own pace. He was clearly awake now, or so close it made no difference, but his eyes were still closed and his lips curved in a soft smile. He seemed to be savoring the attention with a warm, slow satisfaction, like a lion basking in the sun.
Lucius groaned at the sight, sucking with greater determination. His head swam with thoughts of doing this every morning, of earning a place in his master’s bed. What would it be like to feel those hands on his hips, that cock thrusting inside? Would it feel as good in his ass as it did in his mouth? He longed to find out, to be held down and filled up and fucked until he screamed.
Lucius cupped his own erection, squeezing to relieve the building pressure. He had to finish his master first, before such thoughts overwhelmed him.
“So good,” the man purred with surprising gentleness. “Gonna come soon. You want that?”
Lucius whimpered around his mouthful, redoubling his efforts. He didn’t just want it—he needed it, needed this gorgeous man to spill down his throat. His master was panting now, lips parted and chest heaving, approaching his peak.
Then the man’s eyes opened in a languid blink that instantly turned into a shocked stare. He sucked in a strangled breath, and his fingers tightened convulsively in Lucius’ blond hair. Lucius stared back in similar shock, choking on his mouthful—while the man’s left eye was an ordinary brown, his right was such a bright, piercing blue that it literally glowed.
“Lucius!” the man yelped. His hips bucked up involuntarily, shoving his cock deep into Lucius’ throat. He gagged, muscles spasming in a way that sent the stranger over the edge.
The Greek let out a desperate wailing cry as he arched back, filling his slave’s mouth and throat with seed. Lucius choked on the bitter, salty liquid, surprised again at the man’s sheer strength holding him down. The sensation, the knowledge that he was being filled and used made Lucius’ eyes roll back in his head. His own hips jerked, spilling onto the sheets with barely a touch to his own cock.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I—” the handsome man babbled, releasing Lucius with sudden haste. He scrambled back, cock slipping from Lucius’ mouth as Lucius coughed and spluttered at the rough treatment. “Are you—are you all right?”
“I’m f-fine, sir.” Lucius gasped when he finally caught his breath. His face was flushed hot from shame and arousal, but it was nothing compared to the flaming cheeks of his master.
“G-good,” the man said, rolling off the bed with stunning grace, despite his clear panic. “I have—I need—I’ve got to go.”
Without another word, without even stopping to grab a stitch of clothing, the man fled the room. Lucius was left kneeling on the bed—soiled, naked, spent and blinking in confusion.
What had just happened? How had this stranger known his name? And hadn’t the man’s right eye been brown?
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AT Lander
AT Lander has loved stories, both the reading and the telling, since she was a child. Born in upstate New York to an English professor and a former librarian, she now lives in the queerest part of Massachusetts. She never leaves home without a knitting project or a pencil, and she’s never met a cat she doesn’t like.
She has worked as an history museum guide, a professional storyteller, and an actress, sharing tales of what was, what could have been, and what can only be imagined. World mythology is her driving passion, as what better way to understand a people than through the tales they tell?
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