She clamped her eyelids tighter, knowing she was warring against herself, not him, as she rocked against him, relishing his groan as the tip of his cock rubbed against her spine.
“Cruel goddess,” he breathed, then pulled her hand down to her sex, sliding her fingers between her aching folds. She was hot and slick, and her body bucked, needing more than this. Needing everything. “Keris …”
In answer, he curved his index finger around hers, slipping them into her depths. Using her fingertip to stroke her core until their hands were slick. “Look at what you’ve done to yourself,” he murmured, withdrawing her finger and moving it to her clit, a sob of pleasure tearing from her lips as he circled it.
Catching hold of her wrists, he drew her upward, guiding her until she knelt on the edge of the bed, Tension mounted inside her, her climax rising, but she fought it down. Refused to allow it to claim her until she had what she wanted. Until he was deep within her.
“Look,” he said, and she realized that she’d again asked him to fill her. Begged him, the feel of him pleasuring her with her own fingers battering at her will.
Zarrah clenched her teeth, fighting climax, fighting herself. “My own touch is familiar to me,” she murmured. “You’ll have to try harder if you wish to be victorious.”
His hands stilled, holding her fingers in place, and she squirmed against them, cursing herself for speaking.
“Go back to what you were doing between my legs,” she told him, counting the patterns woven into
“Something better than your own touch,” he said thoughtfully, then he drew their hands upward.
Past her stomach and breasts and throat to pause over her mouth. Then her fingers parted her own lips, and Zarrah tasted herself.
Her lids opened, reflection filling her eyes. The lamp illuminated her sweat-damp skin, casting her in light and shadow, as lovely as she’d ever seen herself. Like passion and desire incarnate, her body quivering as it clung to the edge of climax, wanting to let go and fall forever.
Keris’s cheek pressed against the side of her head, his fair hair falling to mix with her midnight curls, his gaze reverent as he watched her watch herself.
She did know it. Knew that he’d find some way to tempt her into giving in, and excitement throbbed
“You won,” she whispered.
“And yet I serve at your pleasure.”
“You know what I want.” Just as she knew he was at the limit of his own self-control when he said nothing, only lifted her, his knees spreading hers wide as he lowered her onto his length.
A cry of pleasure tore from her lips as she watched him enter her, claim her, the sight of his cock slamming into her shattering her control. Climax rolled over her in a violent wave, tearing the breath from her chest. Stopping her heart and then making it run wild. The sensation was like starlight, driving all thought from her mind other than that she was his. Would always be his.
Slowly, Zarrah opened her eyes, seeing the fire now burning low, Daria rising for the day while Saam fell asleep in the warmth of her blankets.
A man like him uses seduction with the adeptness of a courtesan, her aunt whispered. You never had a chance.
Was it true? Had she been manipulated by something as simple as sex? Had he used it to control her?
All the things he did to make you sing made him King of Maridrina and you a traitor to your people.
A tear trickled down her nose to drip onto the ground beneath her cheek. This is why you need to banish him from thought, she told herself. He’s moved on. You are replaced, and with the ease he has done so, perhaps what was between you was not as meaningful as you thought. You are better off without him anyway, for he betrayed your confidence and proved he couldn’t be trusted.
The reasons she shouldn’t think of Keris went on and on, but rather than making her feel better, all she felt was hollow and cold.
And so very much alone.
In answer, he curved his index finger around hers, slipping them into her depths. Using her fingertip
Tension mounted inside her, her climax rising, but she fought it down. Refused to allow it to claim her until she had what she wanted. Until he was deep within her.
“Look,” he said, and she realized that she’d again asked him to fill her. Begged him, the feel of him pleasuring her with her own fingers battering at her will.
Zarrah clenched her teeth, fighting climax, fighting herself. “My own touch is familiar to me,” she murmured. “You’ll have to try harder if you wish to be victorious.”
His hands stilled, holding her fingers in place, and she squirmed against them, cursing herself for speaking.
“Something better than your own touch,” he said thoughtfully, then he drew their hands upward.
Past her stomach and breasts and throat to pause over her mouth. Then her fingers parted her own lips, and Zarrah tasted herself.
Her lids opened, reflection filling her eyes. The lamp illuminated her sweat-damp skin, casting her in light and shadow, as lovely as she’d ever seen herself. Like passion and desire incarnate, her body quivering as it clung to the edge of climax, wanting to let go and fall forever.
Keris’s cheek pressed against the side of her head, his fair hair falling to mix with her midnight curls, his gaze reverent as he watched her watch herself.
“You won,” she whispered.
“And yet I serve at your pleasure.”
“You know what I want.” Just as she knew he was at the limit of his own self-control when he said nothing, only lifted her, his knees spreading hers wide as he lowered her onto his length.
A cry of pleasure tore from her lips as she watched him enter her, claim her, the sight of his cock slamming into her shattering her control. Climax rolled over her in a violent wave, tearing the breath from her chest. Stopping her heart and then making it run wild. The sensation was like starlight, driving all thought from her mind other than that she was his. Would always be his.
Slowly, Zarrah opened her eyes, seeing the fire now burning low, Daria rising for the day while Saam fell asleep in the warmth of her blankets.
A man like him uses seduction with the adeptness of a courtesan, her aunt whispered. You never had a chance.
Was it true? Had she been manipulated by something as simple as sex? Had he used it to control her?
All the things he did to make you sing made him King of Maridrina and you a traitor to your people.
A tear trickled down her nose to drip onto the ground beneath her cheek. This is why you need to banish him from thought, she told herself. He’s moved on. You are replaced, and with the ease he has done so, perhaps what was between you was not as meaningful as you thought. You are better off without him anyway, for he betrayed your confidence and proved he couldn’t be trusted.
The reasons she shouldn’t think of Keris went on and on, but rather than making her feel better, all she felt was hollow and cold.
And so very much alone.
IF IT HAD been anyone other than Ithicanians sailing the ship, the storm would have put them at the bottom of the sea.
They battled the typhoon, the ship bucking and plunging over mountainous waves as Aren and his crew navigated the edges of the storm. Knowing he’d only be in their way, Keris remained belowdecks in his small cabin. He wasn’t prone to seasickness, but the endless pitch and roll of the vessel turned his stomach nauseous, though it was nothing compared to how Lara suffered. “She gets seasick on a windless day,” Aren had muttered when Keris asked him. “Stay out of her way.”
Knowing his sister had a bad opinion of him at the best of times, Keris had taken the other man’s advice. Only when they were fully clear of the rough seas did he emerge, blinking at the brilliant sunlight. Rising the steps to the quarterdeck where Aren stood at the helm, he rested his elbows on the railing and stared out over the expanse of sea before them, no land in sight. “Where are we?”
“Nearing Nerastis,” Aren answered. “For all it was a miserable journey, we made good time.”
Keris made a noise of agreement, because there was little point mentioning that he begrudged every day it took for them to reach Devil’s Island. “How is Lara?”