Oonagh had been a princess all her life, but never before had she felt so completely helpless and powerless. The enemy army that invaded her city had utterly decimated their forces, leaving the people of the city with no choice but to surrender. Varanik, the leader of this invading force was cruel and relentless, offering only one way for Oonagh's people to be spared: if she agreed to become his concubine and sex slave.
She knew it was wrong - an affront against her own dignity as well as those of everyone in the city - yet there was something about him that made even such an abominable proposition seem almost inviting, like he held some kind of power over her mind as much as he did over her body. Reluctantly accepting defeat both on behalf of herself and also for everybody else who'd have suffered should she refused him.
Oonagh followed him into his bedchamber where things quickly escalated past any point at which could turn back from what lay ahead for them both. He abruptly pushed Oonagh onto the bedspread beneath them; roughly gripping each side her face between his hands.
He kissed her hard, his lips bruising hers as he explored every inch of her mouth with a hunger that was both frightening and intensely thrilling. His hands roamed over her body in the same way; exploring each curve hungrily before finally pinning down one wrist above her head while the other hand wandered beneath the hem of Oonagh's skirt to caress inner thigh.