The Taming: Book 3 in the Tribe Warrior Series by Imogen Keeper (romantic novels in english TXT) 📕

They told me how generous you were. And how large. And how attentive.”

His shoulders clenched, and his motions were jerky as he lowered her plant to a table near the door.

“Would you mind, Tor? Hearing about how Agammo kissed me? How I moaned as he did it? How I spread my thighs for him? How I begged him for more.”

He kicked the door shut behind him. Not hard enough for it to slam, but enough to show that she’d touched a nerve. Good.

His hands fell to his sides, and he rounded on her, breathing hard. His eyes were darker than the night sky, and his face was furious.

She must be drunk because she should have shut up long ago. But it wasn’t enough. He needed to know how it felt.

So, she didn’t stop. She just kept on pushing. “Would you like to hear how I touched him back. Should I tell you how big he was? Or how much I wanted the red haze with him, to belong to him, as only an Argenti male can claim a woman. No Prime could ever compete with it. They addict you with thei—”

Motions sharp and jerky, he strode across the room, closed a hand around her upper arm and shoved her against a wall so hard her teeth clattered.

A growl burst from his mouth. She’d only seen him this angry back on  Araa-Ara when she’d locked him out of his ship.

Breathing hard, he stared down.

“Fucking right, I would mind,” he snarled and turned his back on her.

“I heard a lot more.”

“You shouldn’t have had to hear any of it.” He dropped a hand to his hip, his shoulders rising and falling. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She tossed her hands out in frustration. That was the last thing she wanted. That would mean he’d have to interact with those women, those beautiful, lusty, adoring women who were from Vesta, who understood him, who knew about his goals and his past. Who had heat cycles that made men lose their minds, and mysterious, exotic felana biologies she would never have. She didn’t want him on the same planet as them. “Don’t you want to know what I heard?”

“Not really.”

With his back still to her, he reached for the neck of his shirt, grabbing it just below his nape, and tugged it over his head in a smooth motion. Shadows danced in the hollows beneath his shoulder blades, in the long valley in the center of his spine. All those scars and muscles bunched and shifted, smooth, glowing skin covered in swirling tattoos.

He moved with savage grace, stepping across the carpeted floor.

She pressed back against the wall. She was barely breathing, staring into glittering, fathomless black eyes. Had she finally pushed him too far? Would he spank her again? The thought brought a thrill up her spine. She opened her mouth, maybe to push him a little harder, maybe to beg him not to hurt her.

He bent down and tugged off a boot.

He tossed it into the center of the room. It spun in a lazy arc and landed just shy of the foot of the bed. He tugged off the other one and tossed it too.

Then his socks. He balled them up and lobbed them too. They bounced off the bed and rolled across the carpet.

“Is that something you want? An Argenti Bonding?”

She tugged at her gown. Truly? No. It had always terrified her, the loss of the control, but somehow, Agammo had seemed so unthreatening. The thought of giving her body over into the control of a man like Tor, though—

“Answer me,” he rasped.

“I had accepted it with Agammo.”

He nodded grimly. “Did you really kiss him?”

She blinked. “I did.”

His eyes gleamed. “Not for real. You were surprised when I opened my mouth. You shook the first time I touched my tongue to yours.”

She looked away, her body heating at the memory. “Suffice it to say, it was with great surprise that I was told that the rest of the felanas in the Roq look forward to their next heat cycles.” Her cheeks flamed at the crude words.

He caught his lower lip between his teeth and undid the top button of his fly. “Were you jealous?”

“No.” It came out too fast.

“You were jealous.”

He undid the rest of the buttons, exposing the vein that ran a path straight down toward the bulge in his trousers.

“No.” The word was louder this time. She was almost shouting. And her eyes burned. “I was disgusted.”

“I would be. If you fucked Assamo, I’d rip his stupid head off his scrawny neck and fuck you right in front of it, so you’d never forget that no one touches you but me.”

The hairs rose on the back of her neck. That was the thing about Tor. He was brutal and merciless, but he also had a penchant for exaggeration. She saw right through him. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He breathed out a laugh and dropped his pants to the floor, kicked them angrily behind him. “Just fact. And I like that you’re jealous, but you don’t need to be. I won’t touch another woman. Vaniiya, you’re more than enough. You have nothing to worry about.”

Her mouth went dry. Like that, her eyes burned, and she wanted to bury her face in his chest.

He stepped closer, his cock bobbing under its own weight in front of him with each slow step.

She swallowed. “I wasn’t jealous.” Her head bumped against the wall as she stared up into his eyes. “I was appalled.”

His eyes tightened, but when he touched her cheek, it was the gentlest, softest of touches. That one touch made her entire body shiver, from the very top of her head to the bottom of her toes.

A smile lurked in the corner of his mouth.

It had been a mistake confronting him like this. She should have kept it to herself. She shouldn’t have said anything.

“Whatever you heard wasn’t the truth. I don’t talk about my scars. Or my tattoos. They give