Pozhidaeva alice games of vicious blood 2. "Games of vicious blood" Alisa Pozhidaeva. Why reading books online is convenient
Alisa Pozhidaeva with the novel The Game of Vicious Blood for download in fb2 format.
Lyra is the Queen Mother's best lady-in-waiting for especially delicate assignments. The blond angel with the blood of demons knows no defeat: espionage, manipulation, seduction - she is ready for anything. This service is not easy to leave, let go of the contract - acquired enemies will not let go. The road to a quiet life leads across the sea to another country. Priests do not run everything there, magicians serve the crown and their own wallet there. There awaits freedom, new abilities, meetings, friends - and what else does a girl with a dark and fascinating past need? And everything is thought out in this escape: a new title, an ideal biography, escape routes. Not taken into account only the man met at night in the port. And he has his own plans for Lyra.
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To date, a large amount of electronic literature has been posted on the Internet. The edition of the Game of Vicious Blood is dated 2016, belongs to the Fantasy genre in the Fifty Shades of Magic series and is published by AST. Perhaps the book has not yet entered the Russian market or has not appeared in electronic format. Do not be upset: just wait, and it will definitely appear on UnitLib in fb2 format, but for now you can download and read other books online. Read and enjoy educational literature with us. Free download in formats (fb2, epub, txt, pdf) allows you to download books directly into an e-book. Remember, if you liked the novel a lot, save it to your wall in social network let your friends see it too!
The book in a rather delicate genre is written in quite literary language and is read very easily. The language is excellent, the erotica is on the level, there are no excesses either in excessive physiology or in a dry description of who did what and at the same time still managed to think and analyze the actions of a partner. Emotions - the sea, the relationship between the characters - already sparks fly. The plot is also fascinating, in addition to erotica, there are intrigues, there is action. The characters are adequate, without tantrums and whims, chapters. the hero behaves like a man, the heroine like a woman, and not like a hysterical virgin something, waving its innocence like a flag at every opportunity.
Sometimes I really want to get acquainted not with the Authors who write such works, but with those who write enthusiastic reviews. Well, just wondering ... do they have a personal and social life, what hobbies ..
On the other hand, I don't want to know.
What the book is about ... I thought for a long time what this book is all about and what is interesting and good in it and how to write it in such a way that it means without any words.
50 shades with Gray, Gray and Nastenka already seem like classic literature for languid young ladies. Because our Authors burn!
The first pages of commercials 100 characters have sex. Sometimes they talk...rarely...
Basically classic porn.
Next, we are waiting for the same porn, but still with action. Something like a detective. Everyone is running, fussing, making a ding ding. They run again and fuss again and ding ding again.
Nothing to say about the characters. Yes, in essence, what for them some kind of characters. Yes, and the Author did not really bother with this. There are some heroes out there and goblin with them.
In the second half of the book, the Author nevertheless decided that it was necessary to show the heroine not as an immoral girl with the principles of Caligula, but as a victim of circumstances and add Mother Teresity to her. It turned out ugly, to be honest...
I have nothing more to say.
Not being a hypocrite, I was rather disgusted to read this book.
The beginning is a bit confusing. Lyra works as a lady-in-waiting to the queen and is essentially a bed spy. Seduces men and ferrets out secrets. A low moral job, but she seems to have an alibi because her parents are dead and she's been taken into custody by the Queen. But she will soon die, and Lyra has made enemies during her work (after the death of the queen, they will want to settle scores with her), so the queen lets her go from service and she thinks to go overseas and live under a new name. Well, about her work. At the very beginning, there are two scenes where something is done to her, first by one, then by another man, she is not happy with this, but since this is work, she already calmly endures it as usual. Even if she had reasons for such work, she is still not the most flattering opinion about her. And now she could not just quietly and peacefully sail away from the city, she manages to interest one lord, who after one night does not want to let her go. There is no talk of love, just ordinary women cannot stand him in bed, but she is hardy and he wants to keep her at hand when he needs it. It sounds strange, but it's true. The first 50 pages are just porn (as for me, so no complaints, because the series is appropriate). I'm not against eroticism, but I was still at a loss, could there be bed scenes without a break until the end of the book. And then it still opens from the other side. It’s one thing to be in someone’s bed at work, but she doesn’t want to be this Armand’s toy, although she could live happily under his wing and wants to run away from him. If not for the first two scenes in the book, one could even consider her a completely decent woman who wants love, and there can be no talk of her with the lord, at most she would be his mistress. The main amount of eroticism at the very beginning, then there is little of it, more and more plot development, all sorts of intrigues. I found the book to be sweet and romantic. And after all, GG, even though she worked for the queen, once, as a result, she wanted to provide for herself, find love and was just a nice person who takes care of loved ones.
Porn fantasy with the participation of trolls and others like them, but with a happy ending, that is, a wedding ...
If GG didn't "master" everything and everyone, maybe it would even be interesting.
Read at your own risk.
PART ONE
Instead of an annotation:
The service at court is over and it's time to start arranging your personal life. But what if the sealed abilities are increasingly asserting themselves, threatening problems with Magic Control, too many are hungry for revenge for years of failure, and the old nightmare has found you again and is haunting you? Of course, run to the neighboring kingdom and start new life from scratch. Such a talented girl in all respects will definitely succeed!
PART TWO
Instead of an annotation:
Fresh air, sun and the simple joys of a quiet village life - isn't this what a girl with a dark and fascinating past needs? And where else will her insistent call of blood lead?
Warning: The plot appears in the second part. When writing the first one, there was another task.
Mother Josie's establishment was not empty even at night. Here, in the port area, life was often in full swing until the morning. Keeping her stilettos at the ready, she walked through the lanes to the back wall of the merry house. In the darkness of the gateway, someone noisily satisfied lust. Judging by the contented groans - to mutual pleasure. She dived into the stuffy interior, nodded to the guard, who was noticeable in the face, and fled into the room that had been bought out a long time ago. There I was waiting for a change of clothes for the journey and an invaluable set of potions and weapons in a hiding place. This foresight was not superfluous. Taking a risk and amusing my curiosity, I drove on an ordered cab past the hotel where I had been taken a number. An inconspicuous magical control van with a dog's head was parked in an alley at the back door. I have no doubt that a surprise awaited at home. This year, the priests had to make concessions, and the quota for allowed practicing magicians expanded. The state needed them, and it became increasingly difficult to deny it. So they caught gifted nuggets in order to enslave them with subordinating artifacts, or better, a threat to loved ones, and plug the gaps that had formed.
The spacious hall was crowded, noisy and fun. After rinsing in a spacious tub, I went downstairs, dodged a couple of slaps on my ass, and dived behind the counter to the owner of the establishment. A portly and busty woman, who had not yet lost some charm, held both the tavern and the attached brothel with an iron grip. Assessing my outfit, which consisted of a skirt tucked high at the waist and exposing the thigh, and a blouse revealing the shoulders, she nodded somewhere to the left, the darkest corner of the hall. Two companies of sailors, apparently leaving tomorrow to sail, celebrated this simple occasion in the traditional way: they whipped the cheapest liquor, ate everything that fell on the table and squeezed the girls. The point was that they would either fight or join forces. I bet on the first. Finally, in the daze, I saw who mother Josie was pointing to me.
From the very first glance at the figure of a man who occupied a corner, the libido, awakened by today's misadventures, started up. I was in desperate need of a man, and it seems that a worthy candidate for this role was sitting at the far table now and nibbling croutons in anticipation of an order. The instinct of self-preservation, which offered to stay away from a dangerous type, seriously lost out to curiosity and temptation. My benefactor pointed to the dishes of steaming fish and battered vegetables, his order. I kissed the shrugged but pleased woman on the cheek, stole a warm salad from someone's order for a tray, thought, added a bottle of ron and a couple of glasses. And she took herself on an adventure.
While silently unloading food on the table, his gaze rose appraisingly over her bare thigh, moved to her chest. From this almost palpable undressing examination sweetly ached in the lower abdomen. In order to put the bottle, she was not too lazy to go around it, leaned on the table and pressed the innocent container into the scraped surface. The brunette's nostrils flared predatorily, apparently, he caught something in my scent. Demon blood! Oh what am I running into? But excitement, excitement and anticipation were already seething in my blood. The fish took the bait. It remains to find out who, who got caught.
Surely this bearer of the blood of the ancients caught in me a piece of the dark heritage, no matter how small it was, but it made itself felt. Well, she examined the man more carefully, savoring it, slowly. High The figure of a lean predator. Strong arms, graceful hand with long fingers. I didn’t flatter myself, for sure these fingers can twist my neck in an instant. Dark, practical, but obviously expensive clothes. A pair of rings. Rigid jaw line, slightly touched by stubble. Nicely defined mouth. From the fact that the man sniffed, an expression of cold arrogance touched his lips. With such lips, both giving orders and caressing a woman, they were generally so good that I licked my lips, causing a fleeting smile. And then I ran into the icy green eyes. It took my breath away. But she smiled, raised an eyebrow, casting a brief glance at the empty chair.
The man got up. This is probably how the leopard would have stood up from its place, it generally resembled this wild predator. He stepped forward, pulling out a chair for me and inviting me to sit down. He returned to his place, poured ron into glasses. He nodded to me. We drank. Silently.
I waited for the fire in my throat to subside, then started on the salad. The man calmly devoured the fish, paying tribute to the talent of the local chef.
Ron gurgled again. This time, the green-eyed man decided to speak up.
- Do you work? - from the hoarse baritone, the hairs on my skin rose. It's gone.
- Resting, - saluted him with a glass, - What were your plans for the evening?
- Eat here and find an expensive brothel, - he answered honestly, eating me with his eyes, - But plans have changed.
My hungry demon essence reached out to him like a child to sweetness. I had to bite my lip so as not to moan in response to another hungry undressing look. She clenched her hips at the surge of desire. He sniffed the air.
We got up from the table at the same time.
“I have a room,” she said without turning around.
"Let's go," he hurried hoarsely.
Companies of sailors, contrary to my suspicions, decided to unite and now noisily moved tables. However, they got out of our way in a very timely manner.
Passing by the counter, she took the key that appeared on the scraped table top. Mother Josie nodded briefly. A couple of coins that glittered with gold evaporated without even touching the surface.
Up the stairs soared grief impatience. The man breathed down my neck. He didn't get to the number. As I bent slightly, looking for the keyhole in the dim light, I was pressed against my back by his powerful body. He brushed back his loose hair around his neck and bit the skin behind his ear, eliciting a groan and almost making me drop the key. With his second hand he hugged my stomach, slid into the slit of the skirt, crushing, lifting up the fabric and looking for it, covering the bosom. I didn't have underwear on. He noted this fact with a strangled growl and bit me behind the ear harder. Then he completely ran his tongue from there to his shoulder. I tried to understand what I should do now and painfully remembered which way to turn the key.
After a click, the door was kicked open. He carried me into the room, without taking his hands off his heated bosom, and piercing me with two fingers. Already unable to restrain herself, she provocatively rubbed her ass against his erection, literally tearing the cloth of his pants.
The answer was not long in coming. I was turned around, seated on a tall chest of drawers, and ruthless fingers returned to me. Through the veil of pleasure covering my eyes, I noted how he rises before me, leaning back on her elbows. Stands between shamelessly divorced legs, crumples with his strong fingers one or the other breast, grabbing painfully aching nipples. This pleasure shot through me, making me scream and arch my back. And he looked at me with some sort of exploratory interest, as if remembering his mouth ajar in an incoherent scream, his full chest with dark nipples, my convulsive movements in time with his caresses on the eve of the approaching finale. He hung over me, sticking two fingers into the bosom of desire flowing with moisture, each time finding that very sensitive place in me, each touch to which more and more tore me from reality. When he unexpectedly bent down to her chest, fell to her in a tormenting, hard kiss, a wave of pleasure swept away the remnants of my thoughts fell on me.
They didn't let me come to my senses. The world had not yet glued itself from disparate pieces when I was ruthlessly pulled off the chest of drawers and literally slammed into the wall. Forcing her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. I only had time to note that he safely threw off his jacket, managed to unbutton his shirt, and trousers, too, when his cock burst into me powerfully and inevitably. My lover froze, letting him get used to his size, if one can get used to it at all. I felt filled to the limit, to a painful prick somewhere inside. But the inner essence, slightly muffled by the past orgasm, was delighted with this penetration. I tried to curb her, she interfered too aggressively in the process. But I didn’t have time, because the man didn’t wait long, slipped out, lifting my ass with his hands, and lowered me back, literally stringing me on himself. And then again and again slipped out along with drops of my desire and powerfully driven in. He took me, resting his forehead on the planed light boards and grunted hoarsely with every push. That disturbing sound made me feel even stronger. And I gave up, let myself go towards the next finale, squeezing my lover with my legs, tearing my shoulders with my nails and groaning lingering in his arms. I squeezed, hugging his shaft even tighter, pulsing, and felt how he caught up with me in several sharp thrusts and poured out inside, filling me with hot semen. Insatiable inner essence, blissfully lay down somewhere in the depths. We fell silent, breathing heavily. He is also resting his forehead against the wall, and holding me to the canopy. I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder.
Finally, as if coming to his senses, the green-eyed man transferred me to the unclaimed bed. He pulled away, slipping out of me with a still trembling, but not limp organ.
Belatedly surprised. It must be kept on its feet. Usually my little predatory essence does not understand, it draws out all the forces, one has only to stop controlling it and keep it in check. He sat down and gave me a guilty look. Turned away. And he began to fasten the buttons. So, what does that mean? Everything? I realized that I completely disagree with this state of affairs. Right now, and this particular man I wanted more!
Resolutely got up from the bed, pulled her blouse over her head. The man turned around in disbelief. Unbuttoning her belt and letting her skirt fall, she stepped through the fabric and walked to the window.
- Is this all you are capable of? She turned around, opening the doors into the moonlit night. - Stuffy.
Under the window, the drunkards were bawling something unmusically.
- Very interesting - I heard the rustle of clothes, the rattling of a buckle. - So you want more?
- Want! - She spoke with a challenge. And leaning on the high windowsill with her elbows, she gently shook her hips. His hot hands immediately fell on them. Stroked, squeezed, pressing my ass to the male groin. Sinyakov will instruct. The unrelaxed organ now rested against my lower back. Still, my current lover was taller than a head, and heavier than two times for sure. He thought about it too, moved away from the window with me, and then a folded blanket fell on the rough-hewn boards. They laid me on it with my stomach, exposing my shoulders under the pale moonbeams. I could barely reach the floor with my fingers, but I grabbed the outer edge of the window and settled myself comfortably. And then immediately, without unnecessary preludes, he thrust into me. Penetrated, pushing the head abundantly moisturized folds. Painfully slowly he entered, lingered for a second, and just as slowly left. He entered again, faster, indulging my impatient fidgeting. He accelerated each time, the night resounding with the resounding slaps of his thighs against my buttocks and my moans.
- Do you want to know what I'm capable of? - he grabbed my hair, at the back of my head, pulled, arching me unthinkably.
“Yes,” she whispered.
I don’t know how he did it, but the angle at which he burst into me was the only right one, giving maximum pleasure from every push, from every slide inside. His other hand went over his upturned face, his thumb caressing parted lips. She licked him, then completely grabbed him and pulled him in, circling her tongue. He groaned and took the toy from my mouth.
- Louder! - sounded the order. - Say louder!
A finger, a moment ago, a prisoner of my lips pressed on the ass, kneading and stroking. He pressed harder, penetrating me, stretching and teasing.
"Yes," I yelled out of breath. - Yes I want to!
From below, they whistled, hooted, appreciating the spectacle that presented itself. My upturned face and bare full chest, illuminated by moonlight, in the window overlooking the canal, did not leave indifferent passers-by, not rare at this hour. I heard advice and greasy jokes.
But that didn't bother me much, and neither did my lover. He entered me especially hard, on the verge of pleasure and pain, caressing me from behind with two fingers. And I screamed again, short and piercing, before going limp in his arms, dissolving into an explosion of pleasure that tore apart my world.
I was slowly picking up the pieces, accepting reality again. I tried to recall in my memory that amazing feeling that began to cover me at the moment of complete intimacy with this man. Like a response to a call. A delightful sense of recognition. I hope where I'm moving, I'll meet someone like him. It was too tempting to relax and enjoy the process without fear of hurting your partner. I don't even remember when I felt so good. No, good is not the right word.
I suddenly realized that I was lying and looking at the ceiling. And the man that gave me so much pleasure, never finished, left me. He laid my relaxed body on the bed. He settled down between my divorced knees, leaning on his elbows, and with some distrust and, it seems, joy, watched me come to my senses.
She looked at him already meaningfully, raised her hand and ran it into her dark, slightly tangled hair. My green-eyed lover suddenly stood up, so that his stone dignity rested against me where the echoes of orgasm still wandered. He smiled and shook his hips.
Listening to the sensations, I felt that I want him again. It was impossible not to want him. The man shook his hips again, moved, but not penetrating, but sliding outside. He bent down, pressed his lips to my chest, teased the defiantly protruding nipples with his tongue.
I arched towards this caress, crushing the sheets with my fingers. She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his hard buttocks. From the inability to feel this fullness now, I wanted to whimper. It was no secret to him.
"Ask," he breathed next to my ear in his disturbing voice.
Sensitively bit me between the neck and shoulder, making me twitch and hiss from the piercing pleasure.
- That's a demon! I moaned as he snuggled up again. "Come into me, this is unbearable."
He hesitated, rubbed himself again against the heated folds.
"Please," she sobbed.
Delightful fullness was a gift for me. I pressed him into me with my heels, grabbed his hands and arched towards this penetration. Suddenly the room turned upside down. My lover had rolled onto his back and now I was riding him.
Well, I accepted the offer, appreciated it, and began to move. Almost letting him out of me and sitting down again. The hand of the green-eyed one, pressing on the bottom of my stomach, allowed me to feel how his impressive cock was moving inside me.
I wanted to give him more joy, to thank him, and I bent over, put my hand behind my back, feeling for the basis of his dignity. She slid lower, causing the man to inhale convulsively through his teeth. She began to caress the crotch, pressing her fingers.
My lover appreciated the affection. Growling something approvingly, he raised his hips, picking up my movement on him. The approach of his orgasm felt between the legs and fingers. His cock became even bigger, filling me to capacity, throbbing. From the sight of his upturned face, distorted by passion, from his hoarse groan, from the tremors of the seed that splashed out in my bosom, I was just as swiftly swept over by a wave of pleasure that had already been today.
I lay spread-eagled on a broad, firm chest and listened to the stranger's heart rate and breathing even out. I was surrounded by a ring of his strong hands, fingers lightly stroking my hair. I guess now I could say that I'm happy. From the mere thought of what had just happened between us, a pleasant sweet spasm was born in my stomach, pushing the finally relaxed organ out of me. Hot trickles of mine and his moisture flowed down my thighs.
From the street still came the sounds of the feast, the music. In the distance, a guard's mallet sounded, and immediately an hour-long battle.
The man was brought in. She lifted her head to meet his dark gaze.
"It's good that I found you," he suddenly spoke in his penetrating baritone.
- Rather, I found you.
She straightened up, freed herself from the cozy embrace, and climbed off him. She took out a skirt with a belt lying on the floor. Skeptically examined, began to shake off the light fabric. Looks like someone stepped on her a couple of times.
- It's time for me to leave, - I turned to him, because I saw how he instantly grew gloomy.
“I didn’t think I’d say this to a woman, but I can’t let you go,” he also sat down, clinging to me from behind with his sweat-drenched body, “I want you to come with me ...
Well, here it begins. And everything was going great. She sighed furtively, put on her most innocent smile, turned around and pushed him onto the bed.
- Is this an offer? - I hope, in my eyes, the due delight froze.
- What? - he suddenly stroked my cheek, pushed my disheveled hair out of my face.
- Well, are you proposing to me? To be with you. Together forever? - I smiled even more enthusiastically.
“Uh-uh… you didn’t understand me,” he tensed. - I can provide for you, you will not need ...
Shut him up with a short kiss.
“Yes, I understand everything,” she breathed out seriously.
And she crushed a capsule of a paralyzing spell on his chest - just an unreasonably expensive toy.
- It's impossible.
Regretfully, she ran one more time over his chest, kissed his chin. It really was time to leave. I quickly started to dress.
"I won't forget you," came a quiet voice from the bed.
“You didn’t even ask for a name,” I shrugged and stepped towards the door.
The spell promised up to half an hour of immobility, but with this man I was not sure of anything. That's why I was in a hurry.
- Stay.
But I had already stepped out the door and, driving away doubts, locked it behind me. She went to the stairs, whistled to the guard who was standing below, threw him the keys to the room in which my brunette was locked. He just nodded. She tiptoed back, pulled the key to the room opposite from her belt, and, quickly stepping inside, locked herself. It turned out that the hurry was not in vain. A blow was heard. I pressed myself against a barely visible gap in the boards and looked out into the corridor.
Another blow and the door of the room opposite was no longer locked. There was nothing. He just broke it. Here's half an hour for you. An enraged brunette in a jacket on a naked body flew out of the room, fastening his pants on the go. I didn't see him any further, but I heard the boots rumble up the stairs. I sighed, wiped the traces of our hectic pastime from my hips with a damp towel. And she began to gather rapidly. I was sure that mother Josie would not betray me, but not so much about the guards. So literally jumping into men's clothes, wrapping myself in a raincoat and throwing a long-collected knapsack behind my back, I opened the window.
But she lingered. The hooligan thought haunted me. Once again, looking through the crack as far as possible into the corridor and not noticing anyone, she rushed through the broken door of the room opposite. Found a casually thrown shirt. The dark silk held his scent. I stuffed my little fetish into my knapsack with the rest of my things and returned to my room.
The window of this room overlooked the roof of the woodshed.
Having gone down to the docks, pulling her hat deeper, she zigzag along the crooked streets to one of the warehouses. One familiar troll promised that you can always sit there, and I had to wait a few hours. And then… Then a new life was waiting for me.
Fans of erotica, love passions and science fiction will definitely not leave indifferent the novel "Games of Vicious Blood". The author of the work, Alisa Pozhidaeva, was not afraid of spicy scenes, and skillfully intertwined them with the detective line of her love fantasy, adding intrigue and espionage passions.
It is unlikely that you will be able to calmly read the work of Alisa Pozhidaeva. All four parts of it are full of adventures, espionage, violent emotions, and the first part is also generously seasoned with erotica. In such an atmosphere, a fragile blond girl with an angelic face named Lyra lives, weaves intrigues, falls in love and falls in love with herself. This is the main character of the novel "Vicious Blood Games".
In Lira, Alisa Pozhidaeva combined two completely opposite images. Outwardly, this young lady-in-waiting of the queen, who is in charge of delicate assignments, looks like an angel. But demons have firmly settled inside the girl. Lyra is capable of any cunning, deception and even meanness in order to achieve her goal. The main character of the book easily makes enemies and just as easily deals with them. But the daring beauty only dreams of freedom. And he is going to find her in another country.
Beyond the sea, Lyra hopes to build a new life, free of old enemies and dark pasts. For the sake of fulfilling her dream, the maid of honor builds a cunning plan that, it would seem, excludes all surprises. But at the most decisive moment of the escape, Alisa Pozhidaeva puts a man in the way of her heroine, who changes the whole fate of Lyra. How will the life of a blond beauty flow after this fateful meeting? What plans does the mysterious stranger have for the cute runaway? Who is this man really? And can he tame the demons that rage in the girl's vicious blood? All these mysteries are revealed by the intriguing ending of the book.
The novel "Games of Vicious Blood" is filled with breathtaking scenes that are hard to tear yourself away from. Fantasy is mixed with reality, and antiquity with modernity. In the book, magicians, priests, trolls and ordinary people organically get along side by side. And even ordinary things are filled with magic.
The novel "Games of Vicious Blood" is part of the well-known series of the writer called "Fifty Shades of Magic", in which Alisa Pozhidayeva prepared many more fascinating magical stories about love and hate, struggle and passion, and, of course, about women's happiness.
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