Siren’s Call
Siren’s Call
Genre: Futuristic Erotic Romance
Length: Short Story
Amazon US | Amazon UK| Smashwords
Captain Gerano Lasalle heads the last of the United Alliance starships sent to evacuate the population of the ocean world, Zalaban, saving them from total annihilation by the Loreto Asteroid.
Preparing to leave, Lasalle learns that the beautiful woman he has been dreaming of, Alarija, has been left behind as a sacrifice to the Sacred Eye. As the asteroid plunges towards Zalaban, Lasalle races against time to save the woman of his dreams.
Alarija is torn between her duty to Zalaban and desire for the Captain. But even if she decides to break her sacred oath, Alarija knows there are still monsters in the deep that will not give her up without a struggle…
Reviews
5 Lips from Two Lips Reviews
“…You’ll find an interesting, creative, well-developed and very unique storyline. The imagery was beautiful and well-written… I highly recommend reading Siren’s Call as well as anything else written by Cassandra Kane!”
4 ½ Hearts from The Romance Studio
“Anyone who enjoys a great story with sex, murder, monsters and love will love this one.”
La Petit Morte from Romance Reviews Today
“…Cassandra Kane has written a sensual nibble peopled with strong characters. Alarija and Gerry are perfect for each other and emotions run high.”
Joyfully Reviewed
“Siren’s Call is super hot and fast moving. Cassandra Kane packs a lot into this story…”
4 Stars from Just Erotic Romance Reviews
“…Gerry is a sexy hero, and their sexual encounters simmer nicely. I especially liked the fact that both the hero and heroine come across as intelligent people who do not conform to stereotypes.”
Excerpt
He’s here! Wake up!
Alarija woke, her eyes snapping open in terror as the voice shouted inside her head. Heart pounding, she sat up and looked about her darkened chamber for Marsalir, her bodyguard. In the last weeks he’d slept on a mattress just outside her room and she’d been able to see the outline of his form in the candlelight, a soothing presence. But now the doorway leading to the corridor was dark, the candle-holders unlit and unattended. She remembered that he’d gone the day before, evacuated with the last of the Council in the last shuttle leaving for the Universal Alliance starship. He’d protested all the way, but he’d gone and left her all the same.
She expelled her caught breath and thought about the voice that had woken her. It hadn’t been the usual whispering from The Master. It was distinct and different, a woman’s voice. It may have been Tal’an, the Goddess, only the voice was more familiar than that. For a moment Alarija wondered if it had been a futurecast, a warning from her future self to her present self.
But a futurecast was impossible. For her, there was no future.
Pink fingers of light from the encroaching dawn began to filter into the room. Unable to return to sleep, Alarija rose from her bed and padded across the white marble floors and through the open wood-carved doors to the terrace outside. She leaned her hands on the balustrade and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. A light breeze lifted her dark hair, drying the sweat at the back of her neck, blowing caressingly over her naked body. She shivered as her nipples sprang to attention.
Attention was what they longed for, Alarija thought as she brushed her hand over the hard nubs. Although Marsalir had been gone a day, she thought about him constantly. He had been her bodyguard and had been chosen to protect her, to serve her. He’d done that–and more.
A stabbing heat still sprang between her thighs at the mere thought of his hot tongue between them. How well they’d kept it hidden from The Elders. Marsalir had been considered safe, literally unable to de-flower her, because of the ritual removal of his manhood. They’d never thought of the eunuch’s other attributes and his willingness to use them for her exclusive pleasure.
She closed her eyes and imagined Marsalir’s tongue on her breasts the last time they had been together. It had been here, on this terrace, overlooking the vast ocean of Zalaban. It had been high tide and waves of warm water had leaked through the balustrade and washed over the marble floors, swirling around their ankles.
* * * *
Marsalir had been distraught that The Elders had finally told him to leave.
“I will not leave you, Mistress,” he had said, staring at her with unabashed longing. “They cannot make me leave you.”
“They can and they will.” She was weary. “You knew this when you came here.”
“But to leave you here, all alone on Zalaban.” He swept his hand back to indicate the great expanse of the ocean that surrounded them.
“That was always my destiny.”
Why had she sounded so self-assured, so confident? Only because she had never been able to imagine the reality of it. She had never been alone, not truly alone. There had always been servants, courtiers, the daily visits of The Elders, the endless Zalaban Council meetings. And, in the privacy of her chamber, Marsalir.
“They’ll come for you soon,” she said softly. “The United Alliance ships have already arrived.”
“I won’t go, Mistress,” Marsalir said wildly. “My duty is to stay with you.”
“Your duty is to do as you’re told,” she said harshly.
He stared at her in surprise. Alarija knew that if he was not prepared to abide by The Law then she had to. She had to be firm with him because that was her duty. To be the last person on Zalaban, a sacrifice to The Sacred Eye above.
Marsalir crossed his arms over his bare chest and bowed his head, acknowledging her authority. Alarija looked at his powerful biceps, the play of muscles over his chest and abdomen, which was already beginning to thicken. He’d go soft soon, she thought with an internal sigh. An inevitable side-effect of the emasculation. He’d offered himself for the process, for the honour of serving her. Now she wanted him to have that honour for the last time.
“Look at me, Marsalir,” she said softly. “Look at me and pleasure me.”
As he raised his head, Alarija concentrated until a shimmer of energy swept over her body. Guided by her mind, she felt the jewelled belt at her waist unclasp itself and fall to the floor. She willed the flimsy pieces of her tunic to slide over her shoulders. They slithered down the length of her body and lay in a silken pool at her feet. She stood before him, voluptuously naked, basking in the glow of Marsalir’s unmistakable desire.
“You’re so beautiful, Mistress,” Marsalir groaned. He reached out for her, placing his large, warm palms over her generous breasts. Alarija held her breath as his thumbs moved restlessly over her hardening nipples, stoking a slow heat at her core. He bent his dark head, his tongue taking the place of his thumbs, suckling at one pink nipple and then other while his hands stroked down over her waist, over her hips.
She gasped as his hand trailed along her hips and between her thighs, parting the folds of her cunt. He slid his finger inside, penetrating smoothly at her wet readiness to receive him. Two fingers and then three wedged themselves inside her and began to pump and gyrate inside her. She moaned and spread her legs wide as she felt herself filled, as his thumb flicked and circled her hot center. While his teeth scraped against her nipples and pulled hungrily at the swollen tips, he attempted to wriggle a fourth finger inside her.
She stiffened. “No, Marsalir,” she panted. “You mustn’t break me. I must remain a virgin.”
“If only I could fuck you,” he’d growled, withdrawing the last finger. “I’d make you mine, Mistress. Truly mine.”
“If you could, you would never have gotten this far,” she gasped as his thumb worked over her clitoris and she felt the climax rising. “Use your tongue, Marsalir. Fuck me with your tongue.”
He grasped her full buttocks in his hands and lifted her, stepped up to the wall of the terrace and set her down. She leant back against the cool marble as Marsalir fell to his knees before her. The eunuch buried his face between her thighs, his tongue caressing the folds of her cunt. Alarija hooked a leg over his broad shoulder, opening herself to him, and gasped as his tongue thrust inside her.
She stared up at the Sacred Eye which burned like a flaming torch in the green sky, her hands fisted in his hair, holding on to him as he clasped his hands around her buttocks, squeezing her closer. He lapped at her hungrily, teeth scraping across her swollen nub, tongue pumping ceaselessly inside her. She pressed her hips into his face uncontrollably, crying out as waves of ecstasy rose, crested, and rolled over her with shuddering intensity.
He’d licked the overflowing juices from inside her, then sat back on his heels and eyed her tenderly.
A few hours later he was gone.
© Cassandra Kane. All rights reserved.