Devi's Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page A

fired by cruelty, and indulged in the urge to experiment with each facet of the senses. He had succeeded, exploring every pathway of sexual deviation. He was master of all he surveyed – feared – admired – copied even, by lesser men who wished to share his reputation for wildness and mastery. But try as they might to emulate him, there was only one Armand Tertius, born a French comte but now a pirate king.
    He was roused from his musing by the feel of soft fingers trailing down his back. He looked round as the woman snuggled up to him, one thigh thrown across his as he lounged there. She was exotic and lovely, the light glimmering on her dusky skin, her ebony hair coiling into a hundred little beaded ringlets round her shapely head, her proud mien that of an African goddess.
    ‘Is there anything I can do for you, master?’ she purred, and reached down and pinched his wine-red nipples, causing a shudder to pass through him to his groin.
    His hand clamped on hers, crushing her slim fingers, but she made no protest. ‘Perhaps there is, Sabrina,’ he growled. ‘I need a diversion. I’ve seen this all before. It is time for fresh blood to be brought here.’
    ‘I understand, master,’ she murmured in that intriguing Creole accent, a free woman who chose to be his slave for her own advancement. ‘Be patient. I have read the cards for you and foresee that a change is coming.’
    ‘A woman?’ he asked, only half believing her ability to foretell the future with Tarot cards that she kept in a sacred bag.
    ‘Oh yes, my lord. Certainly a woman, and a beautiful one.’
    ‘Will she love me?’ He was not aware of the wistful note in his voice, but Sabrina was, and her dark eyes were troubled.
    ‘Who could not love you, master?’ she asked quietly.
    He gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Many! And if they say they do, then how can I be sure they are sincere, or just protesting love through fear or greed or seeking to fulfil their own ambitions?’
    ‘Does it matter? Do you need love?’ Sabrina wound her subtle arms round his neck, sinuous as a snake.
    ‘No! That’s romantic shit. All I need is this .’ He threw her on her back and reared over her. ‘And this .’ His fully erect phallus found its goal and he thrust inside her, using the force of his strong hips as he plunged in and out, finding the rhythm that would take him to the heights.
    Sabrina responded quickly, her brilliantly patterned silk skirt falling away, the sequinned scarf that partly hid her breasts opening to his questing hands. She welcomed him between her thighs and raised her legs, scissoring them round his neck, drawing him ever deeper into her scented mysteries. His acolytes, watching this erotic performance, began to ape his movements, lost into a welter of passion, legs and arms entwined, males with females, girls with girls, men with men. It didn’t matter, just as long as there were cunts and cocks, breasts and arseholes. The cavern throbbed with excitement and arousal and uninhibited desire.
    Armand relished Sabrina’s flesh. She was the chief of his concubines and obeyed him explicitly. Sometimes these willing submissives irritated him. He felt the need of a challenge and even as he reached a thunderous climax within Sabrina’s body, so he experienced ennui. He had everything, but longed for an extra thrill – that of conquering a personality almost as forceful as his own. A lady perhaps, a royal personage who would put up a fight, marking him with her vicious talons and showing such strength and purpose in defending herself that he would know he had met his soul mate. She might try to kill him, or rouse his followers to rebellion and, when eventually he subdued her, driving her mad with love for him, then he might know the peace that always eluded him.
    Restless now that he had released his spunk he pushed Sabrina aside, stood to his impressive height and clapped his hands. The slaves looked up at him in awe as he summoned a giant of