Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes. Gena Showalter
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Yes, each of those things.
He would willingly go to his death for this woman.
She scowled at him, her rich, brown eyes crackling with a fire of their own. “Why are you smiling?”
“I’m with you.” However long it took, he would chip at her resistance, and he wouldn’t stop until she’d caved. I’ll have you begging for me, Moon. “Why wouldn’t I smile?”
“Um, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m being a cranky witch? And FYI, I shouldn’t have to explain something so simple to you.”
“FYI?”
“An acronym. Usually it means ‘For Your Information.’ In your case it means ‘Fact, You’re Idiotic.’”
He chuckled, his confidence only intensifying. He knew the ins and outs of warfare better than most and knew this woman was brandishing her crankiness like a weapon.
The only viable conclusion: she was at war with her own desires.
He couldn’t have been happier.
No, not true. He would’ve been a lot happier if they were both naked and in bed.
“Why don’t I kiss you out of your crankiness, hmm?” he asked, practically purring the words.
She sucked in a breath. “Tell me. Will one kiss lead to one touch?”
“Only if I’m lucky.”
“You’re not.”
“Believe me, I know. Otherwise I’d be the main course at breakfast.” As he spoke, he pressed his fingers against the pulse in her lower palm. It raced.
Oh, yes. She’ll be mine. And soon...
While her mind hadn’t yet accepted him as her mate, her body already recognized him as such.
What she would learn: when the body desired someone, the mind would create excuses to seize the opportunity to take. Anything to assuage the ache.
Her awareness of him would ultimately become her downfall.
“Do you ever wear a shirt?” she grumbled.
“Once upon a time, yes. Then I noticed the way your gaze caressed my chest, and I decided it was in my best interest to forgo shirts for the rest of my days.”
“Caressed?” she sputtered. “My gaze did no such thing.”
He tsk-tsked. “You lie to me, and you lie to yourself. I expected better of you.”
“Well, too bad.” She attempted to yank her hand from his, but he tightened his grip. “Get used to disappointment, because that’s all your supposed mate will ever offer you.”
“Another lie.” He tugged her in front of him before pressing her against the wall. “Let’s bargain. From now on, if you lie to me—or to yourself—I get to spank you.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. An action that expressed anger. And yet, she couldn’t quite catch her breath. An action that expressed arousal. “And if you lie to me?”
“You get to spank me.”
Her pulse raced faster. “Why would I ever agree to such a bargain?”
“Because you’re desperate for any excuse to put your hands on me without admitting you want me.”
Her lips pursed. “Fine,” she said.
What! She’d just accepted? If so, he would lie to her right here, right now—which would mean he would have also lied to her about never lying to her, so he would actually need two spankings.
“You’re gorgeous,” she added, and his excitement plummeted. “Your muscles are exceptional, and I could stare at them all day. But I also like to look at lions, tigers and bears, oh my. Touching them would be detrimental to my health. They’d eat me!”
“So would I.” Unwilling to give up, he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “Slowly. Thoroughly.”
She shivered and softened against his. “No?”
Do not smile. “You can tell yourself it won’t mean anything. A momentary pleasure, nothing more.”
“Right,” she said, her voice low and husky with want. “Because that’s all it would be.”
He nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Of course, I would then have to spank you for saying so. For lying to us both.”
Another shiver. Her hands settled on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “How could I know whether I had lied or not...until you’d actually pleasured me?”
A spark of triumph, every fiber of his being demanding he push her for more. Here. Now. She craved his mouth on hers, and he had to strike while she was receptive.
Honor be damned.
But he straightened. Only in the midst of a struggle did a man reveal his true character. Valerian would prove to Shaye she could trust him at all times, even when he had to forgo what he wanted most.
Wide brown eyes regarded him warily. She’d expected him to pounce.
How would she have reacted? Accepting at first, angry afterward?
So vulnerable, his little Moon. What kind of life had she led? Had someone hurt her? Had a man betrayed her trust?
Proving his worth wasn’t just important, he realized. Proving his worth was imperative.
“Valerian?” His name drifted from her lips, a husky entreaty...a confused plea.
“Breakfast awaits.” His harsh tone would have sent anyone else running for cover; his need for this woman was so great he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep his hands to himself. “Come.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he realized he’d used the wrong word, considering their conversation. If “wrong” now meant “right.”
She bristled. “Are you secretly a tease?”
At any other time, he might have laughed at the intended insult. “No, Moon. I’m a warrior determined to win the war rather than a single battle, and that is hot, hard truth.”
“You mean cold hard truth.”
“No, it’s definitely hot.”
Her mouth opened and closed and, in her delightfully stunned state, she offered no protest as he linked their fingers to lead her through the commons, the central meeting point for the barracks.
Several couples had decided to camp there and now lay intertwined out in the open. Unlike the frantic moans that had rung out last night, silence