BASTIAN THE LORDS OF SATYR PDF

Her characters are ever changing, and full of hidden depths that are so rarely found in erotic romance. Bastian Man-gods born to live and love forever, the Lords of Satyr are renowned for their sexual prowess…and unquenchable lust… Call My Name The forum excavations in Rome go on, directed by the iron-willed, charismatic Lord Bastian Satyr. Out of nowhere, a mysterious, haunting voice calls out to him…and lures him to the site of a long-vanished temple, where vestal virgins once performed rites of erotic surrender. The temple is the find of his career, but his heart is about to face the unknown… Michaela is a pure Ephemeral. She can enter the bodies of others—and become any woman a man might wish to possess. His choice is her pleasure.

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Her characters are ever changing, and full of hidden depths that are so rarely found in erotic romance. Bastian Man-gods born to live and love forever, the Lords of Satyr are renowned for their sexual prowess…and unquenchable lust… Call My Name The forum excavations in Rome go on, directed by the iron-willed, charismatic Lord Bastian Satyr.

Out of nowhere, a mysterious, haunting voice calls out to him…and lures him to the site of a long-vanished temple, where vestal virgins once performed rites of erotic surrender. The temple is the find of his career, but his heart is about to face the unknown… Michaela is a pure Ephemeral. She can enter the bodies of others—and become any woman a man might wish to possess. His choice is her pleasure. With an experienced eye, Silvia sized him up in a long, sweeping glance as she stood at the foot of his bed, her arm loosely wrapped around a bedpost corded with carven grapevines.

Dark, cropped hair; broad, sculpted shoulders; a pronounced indentation running the length of his spine; powerful thighs and buttocks; flesh glistening from his exertions; knees dug into the bedcovers between the smooth stockinged thighs of his bed partner.

Her slender calves hugged his hips. Her body was open to receive each thrust of his organ. Silvia could only employ her imagination regarding how sizable that portion of his male anatomy might be. From her vantage point, all she could see was his backside. His naked backside. His naked, flexing backside. She swallowed, her throat strangely dry. By firelight, he was magnificent—a golden god. Which just possibly made him worthy of the woman he was riding.

Michaela was her closest, dearest friend in both worlds. Silvia had always watched over her as best she could.

And when it came to hedonistic matters such as these, had lived vicariously through her. Tonight was no exception. Michaela had been born a Companion, a courtesan with the power to please any man. Like most in her profession, she had taken hundreds if not thousands of lovers over the centuries.

She always chose them carefully. That in itself told Silvia that this particular specimen of manhood must be something quite extraordinary. There were few things that could have drawn her attention away from the carnal display on the bed, even momentarily. But chocolate was one of them. She bent and put her nose to it, inhaling deeply, wishing she could smell the sweet delicacies hidden inside the gay wrapping.

But she was an Ephemeral, and when in a non-corporeal state as she was now, her sense of smell was nonexistent. But, Gods, she was starving. At least the room was warm. The February wind was cruel outside these walls. She moved to the hearth and held her hands to the fire. Behind her, Lord Satyr was taking his time, rutting with long, vigorous strokes that caused his bed to lurch and shudder, and had Michaela sighing with pleasure.

She glanced over her shoulder at them. They looked so perfect together. His flesh darkened by his heritage and the sun. She touched her fingers to her cheek briefly, a gesture made so often she no longer knew when she did it. Although copulation was a private matter, she had no qualms about observing them. She and Michaela had no secrets. At least, not until recently, when Michaela had severed all connection after leaving Venice. But now it appeared that any trouble was more precisely, in her.

And not just any Satyr. The eldest scion of the four wealthy, powerful brothers who were the defacto rulers of the ElseWorld community here in Rome. He was the man in charge of excavating the Roman Forum. His celebrated archeological finds had made him the darling of human society. And had made him her next assignment. At the sound of his voice, some wayward emotion began to wind tighter inside Silvia. Disturbed and restless, she went roaming in an effort to dispel it. The door to his armoire was ajar, and she peeked inside.

Found dark coats and trousers next to starched linen shirts, all hanging neatly in a row. Too neatly, with the same increment of space between each hanger. Lord Satyr was certainly fastidious! She moved to his desk, an immense affair of polished olivewood. Her fingers itched to search its drawers, but he might hear. And if he turned his head, the desk was in his line of vision, which meant she dared not move anything.

Drawers seemingly opening by themselves would require explanation. Until she assumed a corporeal shape, she would remain invisible to him. Even Michaela would not be able to see her until she chose to show herself.

Two were from Italian ministers of government regarding the state of the excavations in the Forum Romano. It was the third that caught her eye.

Written in typical longwinded ElseWorld Council fashion, it was addressed to Lord Satyr, and it fairly hummed with magic. She skimmed it, her attention caught by one particular passage: … Your recent letter was greeted with renewed hope that the fragile enchantments, which cloak and protect our Italian colonies, may soon be bolstered due to your efforts in Rome.

We pray to the ancients that it will be so! I need not remind you of the grave repercussions—most particularly to your own family, but also to the health and welfare and greatness of ElseWorld itself—should they falter.

The tasks of safeguarding our heritage via the Forum excavations has fallen to you since the death of your father, and in view of your accomplishments over the last decade, we continue to believe them to be in excellent hands. It is with great enthusiasm that we await more news of your search for the Temple of Vesta, adjacent House of the Vestal Virgins, and the relics themselves! And how well suited to her own purposes. But she would make sure that any relics he found would find their way into her possession, not the Councils.

Feminine palms smoothed over the sharply cut musculature that was his chest, working their erotic magic. Who was he that he could withstand her wiles so easily? And how much longer would this go on? The intensity of their coupling was beginning to make her distinctly uncomfortable. She had pressing business to discuss with her longtime friend.

Still, she hated to interrupt. Gods knew, Michaela deserved some fun. She whimpered. Realizing what she was doing—what she was feeling—she snatched her hand away. Her face was flushed, hot. Fifty hells! Hurry up, will you? To her astonishment, his body ground to a halt so abrupt that it visibly jolted both his partner and the bed frame. She pushed up to a sitting position, alarmed. Silver eyes pierced the dimness, like stars in a twilight sky, relentlessly shining in her direction.

The almost brutal, carnal expression on his masculine face made her heart trip, her breath stop. For the first time, she took in his features full on—the strong blade of his nose, his straight brows, square jutting chin.

And those lips! Sensual, yet sharply cut.

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It works for a very interesting read. Elizabeth Amber And the commanding and utterly virile Bastian is the only man she desires. Sensuous yet innocent, Silvia is a marvelous mix of any personalities combined. Heart of the Wolf. Reading his determination to keep her with him was enthralling. Well, most people would be yelling double the pleasure, but others might not want to accept it in their reading. Excuse me while I turn my fan up to high!

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