Viking's Thrall (reluctant gay first time sex)

By Lyla Luray

Alleyne has vowed to dedicate his life to God and his fellow monks, forswearing all pleasures of the flesh -- until the day Vikings raid his monastery. Thorbrand, the fiercest and strongest of the Viking warriors, claims the innocent young Alleyne as his reluctant slave.

The golden-haired Norseman's heated kisses and fiery touches awaken sinful desires in his new thrall, challenging Alleyne to forsake his vows and choose a different path. But can the virginal young monk learn to live and love as a man?

In this 11,730-word gay historical romance about forbidden lust and sweeping passion, a dominant Viking initiates his reluctant virgin slave into the pleasures of first time gay sex. Contains bondage, gay oral sex, swallowing, size kink, and gay anal sex. For ADULT readers only.

Excerpt:

He prayed to God the Father and Jesus the Son, and to Mary the Mother of God. He recited the same prayers over and over again, as Thorbrand draped a long, muscular thigh over Alleyne's thighs, as he dragged one large hand over Alleyne's chest. His palm brushed the pebbled flesh of Alleyne's nipple, making Alleyne jerk.

Thorbrand snorted, his breath washing over Alleyne's ear. "It will be easier for both of us to achieve our goals if you participate. More pleasurable, too."

"I do not allow this for pleasure."

"But will you allow pleasure to occur?" His hand slid slower, spanning the side of Alleyne's ribcage.

"Yours, yes."

"Hmm." Thorbrand leaned in, and the trimmed hairs of his stubble tickled Alleyne's neck and the underside of his jaw. The heat of his breath increased, smelling of sweet mead and providing a fiery counterpoint to the freezing wind which had driven Alleyne into this position. "I take that as a challenge," Thorbrand said.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyla Luray
• Release date: Apr 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781502252630

Book preview

Chapter One

I wish to inspect that one, the tallest Viking said. His blue eyes, bright and clear as the autumn sky, stared intently at Alleyne.

The slave master stalked toward the wooden post where Alleyne was tied and unknotted the heavy rope. You! barked the slave master. Get up and walk ten paces, back and forth.

The monks had been sitting and waiting to learn their fate all morning, and Alleyne's leg muscles ached from disuse. It took an agonizingly long time to climb to his feet, but as the Viking watched he managed to hobble ten paces without toppling over or tripping on his monk's robes.

I will take him, the Viking said. Then he began haggling with the slave master in faster Norse than Alleyne could follow.

Alleyne traded worried glances with the other brothers from the monastery, each tied to his own wooden post. Now that they had been brought back to the Norsemen's country, they were being divided up amongst the raiding party. Alleyne was the first to be chosen.

Go with God, Father Osgar said in a low voice.

And you, Alleyne murmured. I hope we meet again in Heaven. He reached up to press the cross at his throat, hidden beneath his robes.

Shut up that racket! the slave master said. He yanked the rope, the other end of which was tied painfully around Alleyne's wrists, and dragged him over to the Viking.

Alleyne recognized him. The others who had raided the monastery and taken the brothers away on their boat were all more or less the same—giant barbarians with wild manes of hair and murder in their eyes—but this one was the biggest of them, easily a head and a half taller than Alleyne. He carried a large sack over one broad shoulder—his share of the monastery's treasures—as well as a shield and sword and battle axe, his massive back as straight and upright as if the items weighed nothing.

Alleyne supposed it was because the Viking was the biggest and strongest that the raiding party's leader had given him first choice of slaves—or thralls, as the Norsemen called them.

With his free hand, the Viking took the rope from the slave master, who went back to the others. Follow, the Viking said, the command in his deep voice unmistakable and implacable.

Alleyne stole one last glimpse of his brethren as the Viking led him away, and sent a quick prayer to Heaven that they would all come to no harm. For himself, he could only hope that God's plan would be revealed soon—and that it would not be too dire.

It was noon when they set out, and the sun traveled the other half of its arc through the sky as they walked for several hours without stopping. The year was in its waning time, but Alleyne noticed that their shadows stretched quite long compared to Britain. This far north, the sun sat lower, and gave off little warmth.

The Viking kept up a steady, striding pace which likely a mere stroll for his long-legged gait. Alleyne, accustomed to long hours of sedentary prayer, found it quite punishing. He was grateful when the Viking at last halted and tossed him a dried bit of jerky from a small satchel.

Ravenous, Alleyne tore into the meat, barely stopping to chew before swallowing it down. After a while he looked up to see the Viking watching him with an amused expression.

Did we not feed you properly on the boat? the Viking asked.

Hard bread and dried fish, and the occasional