Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes. Gena Showalter

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes - Gena Showalter страница 11

Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes - Gena Showalter

Скачать книгу

beat her with brass knuckles. “Just throw her over your shoulder fireman-style and run. I’ll—”

      “Be staying with me,” she heard behind her.

      The familiar, husky voice made her shiver. Made her muscles clench, desperate for sublime satisfaction.

      He slid a hand around her bare stomach; his fingers were long and thick, tanned and hard against her pale softness. Goose bumps broke out all over her body. His other hand glided across her collarbone to stop beneath her seashell-covered breast. He tugged her backward, locking her against a muscled chest.

      She melted into him. No, no. She forced herself to stiffen. He smelled like dark magic. Sultry. Heady. Powerful.

      She should protest. At the very least, she should scold him for such daring.

      The words refused to leave her mouth.

      Whatever madness had overcome the other women, well, it had obviously affected her, too.

      Valerian’s warm breath stroked the hollow of her ear, shooting dangerous sparks of pleasure across her nerve endings. “My nose still hurts. As does my co—manhood. Kiss me and make me better?”

      A strange weakness invaded her limbs. “No, thank you?”

      A question? Really?

      She’d always thought herself immune to lust. None of the men she’d dated had ever made it past first base. Kisses goodbye had been more of an obligation than a desire.

      Cold fish, one man had even lobbed at her.

      She’d had to agree with him. Cold equaled safe.

      But she wasn’t cold right now. She burned.

      She burned because of a stranger intent on kidnapping her!

      He rubbed his cheek against hers. “I was born to please you, moonbeam. You are my paradise, and I will be yours. Imagine it. You’re naked. I’m naked. We grind together, reaching heights we never before thought possible.”

      A moan bubbled up, but she swallowed it back. He’d launched a full assault on her senses. Touch, sound, scent, sight...each giving her a taste of the delights she could find in his arms.

      His soft lips brushed the shell of her ear; his tongue darted inside, only to retreat and leave her shaking, hungry for more. “Let me take you to my home. Let me give you untold pleasure.”

      Fight this! Fight him! “I—no, thank you.” A statement this time.

      “Shall we bargain, then? My kingdom for your heart.”

      He expected her to hand over rights to her heart after meeting him only five minutes ago? No way. Just no way. Fight!

      “You don’t want me or my black heart. Trust me. But I will give you trouble, and a lot of it. I’m mean and cranky, and most people can’t stand to be around me.”

      “I want everything you have to give. In return, I’ll give you everything right back.”

      Tamara ripped free of Conner’s clasp to curl around Valerian’s ankles and kiss his feet. “Take my heart! It’s yours!”

      Valerian didn’t seem to notice he had a woman slobbering on his boots.

      “Get up, Mom,” Shaye demanded. Seeing her newly wed mother humble herself in such a way snapped her out of whatever spell Valerian had cast. “Run. Escape!”

      “She is your mother? Fear not. No harm will come to her and her husband, I swear it.” Without releasing Shaye, Valerian gently lifted Tamara to her feet and urged her toward Conner.

      “Only if I cooperate with you, right?” Shaye asked with bite.

      “No. No harm will come to the pair regardless of your actions.”

      A lie, surely.

      “What’s your name?” he asked her, having to speak over Tamara’s pleas.

      Mutinous, Shaye pressed her lips in a thin line. Defy him at every turn. Ignore the heady, seductive tingle in my veins. Maybe then he would tire of her.

      “You surprise me,” he said, his honeyed timbre rich with confusion. “I expected my mate—”

      A string of foreign words suddenly cut him off.

      His mate?

      Stiffening, Valerian faced the speaker. Shaye did the same. The man had black hair and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. Like the others, he wore only pants and boots, his bronzed chest on display. He said something else.

      Valerian responded in the same, clipped language.

      What were they saying to each other?

      The dark-haired man motioned to Shaye with a tilt of his chin.

      Whatever Valerian’s reply, it wasn’t nice. His tone hardened, becoming unbending and dripping with command.

      The warrior paused only a moment, shrugged and strode away.

      “What was that about?” Trying not to panic again, she angled her head to stare up at her captor.

      Mistake! Their gazes locked, and a wave of sexual energy sparked between them, stronger than before, undeniable and irresistible.

      Need coiled between her legs, hot and wet, before spiraling through her stomach, her nipples.

      Look away. Look away!

      “What was that about?” she repeated.

      “I’m breaking my own rules.” He bent to nuzzle her cheek with his own, an action seemingly as natural to him as breathing. “The fact isn’t...appreciated. What Joachim failed to understand is that you are not a rule, you are an exception.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “I’ll explain. Later.” Without another word, he spun her and hefted her onto his shoulder as if she weighed nothing more than a bag of feathers.

      “Put me down!” She fought and kicked with all her might, and her knee slammed into his stomach. “Valerian!”

      “I love the sound of my name on your rose-petal lips,” he said, striding out of the tent, past the line of waiting—eager—women. “Would you like to hear your name on mine?”

      “Never!”

      He sighed, heading for the ocean he’d risen from. At least her mom wouldn’t be forced to endure...whatever these men were going to make her and the others endure.

      The warriors fell into place behind him, and the young, single women happily, blithely followed suit. Those singles were a mix of every race, size and age, though no one looked to be under twenty or over fifty; the prettiest of the bunch even had a prosthetic leg. To the warriors’ credit, they peered at each woman as if she were the

Скачать книгу