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Sand and Heat

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Overview

Desert dweller Feyer has just been sold to a new Raya, or lord, and he's not thrilled about it. At least until Amut takes Feyer in hand, turning his world inside out. Feyer finally finds his place in Amut's world, though, learning to love his new master, needing to please him in all ways.

Sand and Heat brings five tales of Feyer's life, and the desert sun isn't the only heat generated by these steamy stories. Amut is a sensual master with prodigious appetites, and Feyer was made to serve him. Sean Michael will give you a meltdown with these adventurous tales!

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Author Information

Bio of Sean Michael

, Sean Michael Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his vast gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. Sean's stories have appeared in dozens of anthologies, including Shifting, Mates and Animal Attraction, as well as on Torquere Press' Turn of the Screw. Novels include the popular Jarheads' Series, the Going for the Gold series, Secrets, Skin & Leather, Bitten, Where Flows the Water, Catching a Second Wind, the Eppie nominated The Broken Road, Amnesia and many more.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Torquere Press

Filesize

107.48 KB

Number of Pages

N/A

eBook ISBN

9781102376040

Excerpt from: Sand and Heat by Sean Michael

It wasn't even noon yet and already it was hot. Even the thick stones of his raya's palace were no match for the sun's harsh rays during summer. Feyer sighed and lazily waved a hand. One of the boys ran forward and began to fan him.

He stretched out at the foot of the bed, skin gleaming with sweet oil and sweat, and shook his head, letting his hair fall behind him. Numi, on his knees in front of their raya, feeding the old man small bites of lychee fruit, glanced and him and licked his lips. It made Feyer smile and shift his hips, legs falling open, hand draped elegantly along his hip.

He looked good.

With the heat, he wore nothing but his armbands and his markings, bronze and gold along his arms and by his eyes, bright and shining against his skin. His kohl-stained eyelids were the same color as his hair. He was perfect. The raya had said so more than once. And well he should be: he had been chosen, made into the perfect bodyslave at a young age.

The old man, skin as wrinkled and dry as Feyer's was smooth and oiled grunted and waved Numi away. The black-eyed boy left the tray of fruit at Feyer's side and murmured quietly. "He had no more than two bites."

Feyer nodded. Their raya had been eating less and less, the heat bothering him more this year than others. Feyer would feed the old man himself. Taking a fruit, he ate it slowly, letting the juices flow from the corner of his mouth. He moaned softly, eyes slanting toward his raya. The old man's eyes were on him.