Voluptuous Vindication

Voluptuous

Vindication

By

Rose Wynters

The Endurers, Book 4

Other Books by Rose Wynters:

The Endurers:

Once upon a time, the world was just a black void. Then one day man came, but he wasn't alone. He was followed by an ancient evil, a scourge determined to steal his soul. Centuries passed. Humanity did all it could to protect itself against the evil ones, but they weren't equipped to fight this battle. Instead, all they could do was pray that Hell didn't set its eyes upon them.
It got to be too much. Something had to be done.
Born out of desperate need, warriors were chosen. Immortality was granted to those strong enough to fight the battle that would never end. No longer mortal, these men have stood in the path of dark and horrifying evil, bearing the load when there was nobody else that could.
It's all coming to an end. Time has ran out for humanity...

Genres: Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy

Book One: Rubenesque Rapture

Book Two: Curvaceous Condemnation

Book Three: Delicate Devastation

Book Four: Voluptuous Vindication

Wolf Town Guardians:

Wolf Town Guardians - Born to walk this world as both wolf and human, these men take their role as protectors very seriously. Enjoying sensual pleasures as they please, this group of alpha werewolves are the finest when it comes to protecting their hidden settlement.
Guardians are the masters of self-control, taking pride in their authority and hard, muscled bodies. That all changes at the first scent of their mates. Their control snaps. The mating heat begins.
This is their stories.

Genres: Paranormal Romance, Plus-Sized Romance

Book One: My Wolf King

Book Two: My Wolf Protector

Territory of the Dead:

A letter found on the clear glass case of the only gun shop in Pleasant, LA
Hello,
My name is Tabitha Alexanders. Congratulations. If you're reading this letter, you're one of the survivors from the zombie apocalypse. Take care, or you won't last for long.
I'm 18 and just graduated this year. I didn't get to enjoy it, though. I was working at the grocery store as a checkout girl when the first body slammed against the clear glass. I'll never forget the fear that washed over me at the sight of his red, hungry eyes. That night marked the loss of my innocence.... And my freedom.
Now my life is something different. No longer can we take the basic things like safety and food for granted, not to mention our lives. The zombies destroyed our entire town that first night, including the family of the college guy I had a crush on in the past. We were able to save him, but he's not the same. He's different, but so am I.
Our numbers are extremely small, but the humans have united. A new group of survivors is emerging in this nightmarish world.... And we aren't afraid to fight dirty if it ensures our survival.
We had to leave Pleasant in order to save our lives. We barely made it out alive. These zombies are entirely different than the way I'd always seen on television. They are fast, preternaturally strong, and even aware. They used that awareness to discover our small group of survivors hidden within our home. If it wasn't for Kellan we'd be dead right now, wandering the streets of Pleasant.
Kellan is something completely different than any man I've ever seen before. He's too powerful and too controlled to ever be anything like the average male. I can't explain him, but I'm glad he's on our side. Heaven help us all if he ever decides we're not worth the effort.
He's taken us to his home outside of town, if the massive fortress can be considered that. It's large enough for many more than us, self-sustaining should we be forced to remain beyond the high fence. There's something strange about the way he was so prepared for the zombie apocalypse, but it's not my place to question it. I've learned that Kellan doesn't enjoy questions, and he doesn't want anybody getting too close.
I'm leaving a handwritten map here in the hopes that there is still someone alive in this town to find it. God, I hope you are. It feels like we're the only ones left, and it's horrifying...
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Dystopian, Young Adult

Book One: Phase One: Identify

Book Two: Phase Two: Evaluate

Copyright Notice:

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events listed in this book are products of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously.

Voluptuous Vindication (Book 4, The Endurers)

All Rights Reserved

© 2013 Rose Wynters

Book Cover Image Credits:

     Close-up detailed portrait of young good looking male model against black background, ©
Curaphotography, 2013

Fantasy landscape with balcony angels and tree, ©
Justdd, 2013

Used under license from Shutterstock.com

No parts of this book may be used, duplicated, copied, or reproduced without written permission from the author, with the exception of small quotations used in reviews or articles.

This e-book has been provided for your personal enjoyment only. Sharing or posting it publicly is strictly prohibited.

Visit the author at:

http
://www.RoseWynters.com

Prologue

Wars of the Roses

March 1461

Yorkshire, England

Snow blanketed the earth outside of the castle, but inside the keep, it was steamy hot. The blonde-haired woman leaned back and gripped the powerful thighs of the solider underneath her, riding him with everything she had. She had climaxed three times already, but he had yet to reach his peak. It wasn't often she was used to having such a voracious, lusty lover in her bed.

Her head slipped back in ecstasy, her skin glowing in the light from the fireplace. It briefly transformed her from a rather plain woman into the beautiful young woman she might have been, had fate not bestowed the life of a servant upon her unlucky shoulders. Even so, Ian found her attractive enough to bed, just like he had the other one that had come before her that evening.

Her large breasts bounced, the tips hardened from the cool draft that drifted across her skin. His large hands slid up her slender hips, his powerful fingers locking onto her flesh. “That's it, love. Ride me like you can't get enough of my cock. I want to hear that plump arse smacking my thighs.”

“
I can't get enough of it,” she managed to gasp out in a breathless tone. “Tis the largest cock that has ever breached me. I don't ever want to stop. You're the best I've had.” She convulsed on top of him, screaming out another release as she found her pleasure once again.

The slickness of her passage revealed her words to be true. Like all things, though, it would have to end. In the next hour, this maid would be nothing more than a fleeting memory, just like so many that had come before her.

His shaft tightened, his semen burning up the long length of his cock. In one practiced motion, he lifted her off of his body an instant before his release spurted out. Grabbing a cloth next to him, he held it over the crown until he was spent. It was the way he'd always released and always would, until he was wedded and in need of heirs.

She slid down next to him, trailing a work-roughened hand across his chest. “You didn't have to do that,” the maid said, smiling at him seductively. “My sheathe fairly aches for your seed.”

Ian sat up, turning his back to her. “I'll not release into any woman,” he replied in a reproachful tone of voice. “I won't leave a chain of fatherless offspring across England.”

The maid was persistent, sliding up against his back until the tips of her nipples grazed his smooth flesh. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, “I don't have to leave right now. I have all night. We could do this again.”

Ian shook his head, reaching for the glass of wine he'd left on the bedside table. “Thank you for the pleasant experience, love, but our time together is done. You can send the next maid in, though, on your way out.”

He sounded cold and cruel, but it was the way it had to be. He'd never taken a woman against her will. They all knew there would never be anything more than a mutually pleasurable time before entering his bed. Even so, their expectations always seemed to change by the time they left it.

She huffed, redressing herself while glaring at him. He didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he silently sipped his wine, careful to keep his expression bland as if he didn't have a care in the world. It was a false front, but a necessary one. Times like this almost made the sex not worth it. Almost. 

Ian was exhausted, and so were the men he had traveled with. They were returning from a mission to rejoin with the Yorkist army. When they'd received word that a battle was to commence near Towtown, they'd traveled day and night to make it in time. Considering the severe snow and frigid temperatures, it hadn't been easy.

Eventually, they'd had no choice but to stop and seek shelter. The snowstorm that day had increased in intensity, to the point that they risked their horses and lives should they continue. Desperate for any type of shelter that would sustain them, the castle had seemed like a blessing from God. The contingent was welcomed with open arms by the people of the keep, the master thrilled to host the Yorkist army of men.

The wine and ale had flown freely, so much so that Ian was severely intoxicated. It didn't hurt his prowess, though. He'd plowed through two women this eve and was randy enough to try another one, despite his exhaustion. 

His father, Henry, was gentry and leader of the contingent. Ian was second-in-command, but not because of his bloodline. Both father and son were known as fearless fighters, always seeing a battle through to victory. Even at twenty-eight, his reputation proceeded him. He was Ian the Daring, and it was a title that suited him. There was no obstacle too big for him, no fight that couldn't be won.

But he would be glad when this upcoming battle was over.

Ian rubbed at his forehead, a knot of pressure centered right between his eyes. Two days before, they'd passed their own castle, stopping only long enough to see his mother. Expecting their return to last for at least a few weeks, she'd been unsettled to learn they would leave within the hour... To fight in one of the biggest battles of that year.

Normally staunch and practical, she'd begged them not to continue on. It was so unlike her that it had shaken all of them, including his father. Ian couldn't remember a time that she'd ever spoken against any of his absences.

His mother, Ella, was German. Although their marriage had been arranged, his parents deeply loved and respected one another. The years had been kind to them, each finding happiness in their union.

Despite their wishes for more children, he was their only offspring. Ian had led a charmed life, filled with love and adoration from both of them. It was because of that love he was determined to never settle for less in his own future. Being locked into a loveless marriage was a hell he wanted no part off... No matter how much money, political alliances, or land there would be to gain. 

The rest of the men were somewhere inside, enjoying female companionship. His father would be found downstairs, entertaining their host. Henry was a faithful and devoted husband, never straying from his marriage... Or his faith. It was because of those principles he was so widely respected, his reputation known far and wide.

The maid went to the door and stopped. She turned back to him, giving him one last, sultry look. Her eyes were full of invitation, with an edge that Ian didn't quite trust.

“Are you sure that you don't want me to stay?” She asked, her voice throaty. “I guarantee I can serve you better than Mary, in any way that you need.”

Ian shook his head, tired of her persistence. So many women...  Their faces and bodies blurred in his memory, none of them standing out in his thoughts. Sex had always come easy to him, consisting of a physical response but nothing more. At twenty-eight, he was already jaded... And very set in his ways.

Grabbing a pouch off of the table, he flipped a gold coin in her direction. “That will be all,” he replied, his voice firm. “Tell Mary I'm awaiting her, at her earliest conveyance.”

The maid didn't move immediately, her eyes narrowing in anger as she stared at him. No words left her mouth, not that he had expected them to. A woman in her position could very well be turned out into the cold for complaining over a tupping she'd all but begged for... Especially, when it concerned gentry.

After a moment, she pulled the heavy wooden door open and left. Ian topped his glass off with the last of the wine in the decanter, all but sighing in relief at her departure.
All that, and the sex really hadn't been that good.

His thoughts turned back to more pressing matters. The upcoming battle would be ferocious as two armies faced off for one man's right to rule England. It would be a fight to the death, winner take all. He felt a moment of sadness for the lives that would be lost the following day, but there was no way around it. War was a way of life for all of them... As was death.

A wise man would be finding his bed, alone. Ian would too, if not for the restless energy coursing through him. He knew from past experience that sleep wouldn't come easily until he rid himself of it, and there was only one way to do that. Luckily for him, the castle was full of maids interested in bed sport.

His mother's face swam before his eyes, her blue eyes wide and filled with tears. His mother had a ruddy complexion, with long, strawberry-blonde hair that she always wore up. Normally calm and contained, she'd been insistent, nearly hysterical as she demanded that they not go to war. She'd had a vision, a vision that one of them wouldn't return should they stay on the path they were on.

His father had been torn. Loyalty to his country demanded he fulfill his duties, but loyalty to his wife demanded he consider her concerns. In the end, none of them had a choice. Had they abandoned their mission, they would have been considered deserters and punished. In his mind, that would have been a fate worse than death.

In the end, they rode out, his mother collapsing on the ground as she watched them ride away. The look of horror and defeat on her face haunted him, as he was sure it haunted his father, as well. All of them felt a sense of unease. Something was wrong, but none of them could place it.

He sighed, swallowing the rest of the wine. He wondered where the next maid was, and why it was taking so long. The others had all but fell in the door at their turn. The room spun, but Ian could have cared less.   

Standing up, he pulled on a robe left for him earlier that evening and padded unsteadily to the heavy door. He'd rejoin the men still remaining in the main hall, knowing that the ladies of the keep would have long since found their bedchambers. At this hour, it would have been unseemly for them to remain, especially with a contingent of men present.

The maids and lower-class women of the keep were a completely different story. Earthier, and unrestrained by any social standings, they often looked forward to the times when visitors came. It was the same at their castle as well. A contingent of soldiers guaranteed new sensual pleasures that broke the monotony of their staid, everyday lives.
Come morning, there would be many a heavy lid.

Ian closed the door behind him and moved drunkenly up against the wall. The hallway was extremely dark, the torches unlit. A cold draft moved through the hallway, the stone floor cold underneath his feet. He moved forward. The castle was large, but he was certain he'd find his way.

A lone window sat at the end of the hallway, the light of the moonlight wan as it passed through the opening. He walked to it unsteadily, spinning around as a door shut softly. The depths of the hallway was black behind him, the floor seemingly disappearing into nothingness.

“Is anybody there?” Ian called out as a shiver of foreboding raced down his spine. The darkness appeared evil to him, the silence unnatural. “Reveal yourself,” he demanded. “I don't have time for your childish games.”

He remained still, his body tense as several seconds ticked by. He'd left his sword in his room, never expecting to feel the need for it within the confines of the castle walls. Staring into the darkness he waited for someone to respond.  After another moment, he released a pent up breath.

The superstitious nature of those around him was beginning to wear off on him. It was likely one of the castle maidens, living dangerously by peeking out her door to watch him. It wasn't uncommon. Ian was used to women of all ages staring at him, watching him coquettishly, while giggling behind fans and palms.

With the younger, virginal ones, this was generally the extent of their wishful thinking. The older ones were much bolder, though, often seeking out his bedchamber in the dark of night. Ian grinned. His door was always open to any comely maid, even if two or three happened to seek it out at the same time. His stamina was well-renowned, and no woman ever left his bed unsatisfied.

Turning back in the direction he wanted to go, he made his way over to the window and looked out. The opening was long and narrow, the stone base resting against the front of his thighs. Snow blanketed the ground, the area outside of the castle quiet. The cold night air washed over him, chilling in its intensity. Ian hoped the bad weather let up before they rode out in the early morning hours.

To make the battle in time, they needed to leave before the sun rose. Way before. Traveling would be hard on all of them, especially the horses. There was always the risk of a horse stepping into a hole or worse, especially when the ground was hidden by snow.