The Warlord by Gena Showalter (free ebook reader for pc .txt) 📕

contact with her minimal. A mewl of protest split the soft, red lips he intended to conquer, the sound like kerosene to his internal flame. He burned for this woman. Even now, a yearning to make her bow to his will warred with a need to give her whatever she desired. But he hadn’t lied. Stopping would occur only after she’d given him what he wanted. Answers...her pleas...

That icy gaze tracked his every move as he fisted his shaft and stroked up, down. Up, down. “Do you see something you like, harpy?” Would she admit it?

Her inhalations shallowed. “I’d tell you if I did or didn’t, but so far I’m not feeling real chatty.” Brave talk delivered with a trembling voice.

Confidence in his success soared. She was flesh and blood and desire. A woman with desires could be... How had she phrased it? Handled.

“That’s all right,” he said. “I’ve thought of a better use for your mouth.” He slanted his mouth over hers and dipped his tongue, seeking.

She welcomed him inside, their tongues thrusting together. Two matches, one strike. Unstoppable wildfire spread.

He kissed and kissed and kissed her, withholding none of his raging passion. She kissed him back with equal fervor. The sounds they made created a beautiful, anguished melody. Rasping breaths, groans and moans, grunts and cries. He felt like a predator who’d finally stumbled upon a meal after a too-long drought. Her taste maddened him. Ripened frostberries, more intoxicating than the finest wine.

Her nipples abraded his chest, new flames sparking. When he could take no more, he wrenched from her mouth and returned to his knees.

“Now to prepare the banquet table.” He gathered pillows, one after the other, then propped the feathery mounds beneath her lower back, lifting her sex.

Admiring his handiwork, he ran his thumb up her slit. Pink. Wet. Glistening. Temptation made flesh. She swelled with need for him, and his mouth watered. He used the pad of his thumb to torment her, massaging her little bundle of nerves.

A whispery moan parted her lips, panting breaths fast on its heels.

“Is there anything you want to tell me before I begin, Taya?” He draped his big body over the mattress, rested his chin on her pubic bone and met her glazed gaze.

“Did you say before you begin?” Had she just gulped?

“I did.” Roc sank a finger into her wet heat, wrenching a groan from them both as her inner walls squeezed him. His heart tripped as he slipped in to the second knuckle. “So hard on the outside. So soft on the inside.” So slick and inviting.

With his next inward plunge, she rocked with him. Divine. He added a second finger, driving both as deep as he could get them without stealing her virginity. Preparing her?

No, no. He wouldn’t go too far. Nothing mattered more than the blessing and the weapon. But the sight before him...the gripping heat... Glorious. Only want more.

Taliyah’s honed and toned body was angled for his pleasure, her arms stretched and spread above her. White hair lay in tangles on the pillows. She remained partly suspended in the air, with her legs remaining spread as far as they could go. Her breasts bounced every time one of them moved.

Made for me.

Again, he used his thumb to torment her bundle of nerves. She quickly soaked his hand. “Yesss, Taya.” He circled, circled, circled, applying more and more pressure. “You love this.”

A choked sound escaped her. “I do. I do love it,” she admitted. Then she added, “Almost...almost ready to spill my secrets. Promise! Whatever you do, don’t stop this torture.”

Viper. “You love the way my heat overtakes you. How I warm you inside and out.”

“I do, I do, I do,” she repeated. “Mmm. It’s good, Roc. It’s so good.” As he worked his fingers deeper, harder, she cried, “Yes, yes! Don’t you dare stop. You promised.” She planted her heels and lifted her lower body off the pillows, attempting to force him deeper.

She needs more of me. “What would you do to get another finger inside you?” He plunged and circled her clitoris. Plunged. Circled. Stardust glittered, shimmering in the firelight. “Do you need to be filled?”

She gasped. She groaned. “Yes. Filled. Another finger.” She watched him, as if she couldn’t not watch him, her teeth bared. So fierce. So wanton. So perfect. “Give it to me.”

“Will anyone’s fingers do?” The question left him without thought, and he didn’t have to ponder why. He hadn’t forgotten her boasts about Hades. Still, he worked those two fingers in and out. In, out. In...he used them like scissors, reminding her of the prize—more. “Or do you need mine, and only mine?”

“I need nothing!”

Possessive instincts surged, torching layers of his control. “You need me, and I’ll prove it.” Chest rumbling, he fed her a third finger, then pressed the pad of his thumb against her clitoris.

Incoherent words left her as she bowed up and threw back her head, those drenched inner walls clenching as the orgasm ripped through. Her breasts bobbed; those pink-as-coral nipples puckered, begging for his mouth. The onyx piercing looked wicked against her pale skin.

Sweat beaded his brow, and strain caught him in a vise grip. He didn’t touch her as she came down from the high. He stroked himself slowly, waiting. An act that required every ounce of his remaining control.

Finally, she sagged over the mattress and pillows and offered him a wicked smile. “I almost hate to break it to you, baby, but I’m not talking. You’re going to have to try again.”

How many males had she slain with such a smile?

“If you need help keeping up,” she added, “just imagine me clad in more stardust and deeper satisfaction.”

Curse her! Now he could do nothing but imagine. “Go ahead. Keep teasing. See what it gets you.”

“You mean another orgasm? Taste what you’ve done to me, warlord.” A command disguised by a throaty entreaty.

He shouldn’t obey. He should deliver her second climax another way. Following the advice of your prisoner never ended well.