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

handful of damp fruity-smelling hair, and whether it was pheromones or not, he got hard.

Her chest rose and fell. Her skin was silky smooth as he trailed his finger down to the valley between her breasts, to dip into the dark shadow below the remaining towel.

Her pupils dilated, and her mouth fell open.

It would be so easy to pull off the last towel. See that whole graceful body bared before him. To learn what color her nipples were and if the hair between her legs was the same bright gold as the hair on her head, get more of the scent of arousal that pooled and heated between her thighs.

It would be a welcome distraction from the maelstrom in his mind, still reeling with death, politics, and the end of his freedom.

“Don’t play games with me. You will lose. Every time.” Moving slowly, deliberately crowding her space, he pressed his hips against her belly, thrusting against her, and a little moan came from the back of her throat.

She tried to pull away, wincing when he clutched her hair in a tight fist.

She struggled harder, pushing at his chest, a little pulse beating frantically in her throat. He let her fight but didn’t budge an inch.

“Get used to it, amiera. You’re on my ship, you do what I say. I tolerate your presence. Don’t piss me off.”

Questions brewed in her stormy eyes. The vein along the side of her neck pulsed, pulsed, pulsed. Her nostrils flared slightly, and her tongue came out to wet her lips.

Partially out of curiosity, partially out of spite, and mostly just because he could, he lowered his lips to hers and paused when there was only a millimeter of space between them, enough to feel the electricity, the magnetism drawing them together, the snap and buzz in the air between their skin.

She didn’t pull away.

He closed that last breath of space, and their lips touched.

She didn’t gasp in dignified shock or try to slap him.

Her whole body jerked against his. He pressed his thumb into her jaw, urging her lips to part. When his tongue touched hers, she let out a deep, earthy moan and pressed closer, opening wider, and her knees started shaking. It was like she was vibrating.

Her tongue touched his, almost hesitantly. Warm and soft and wet. Plummy sweet and heady as a glass of the finest yikseh on all of Vesta. Definitely an aphrodisiac. She tasted like heaven.

His hand on her hip tightened and moved down to get a grip on her ass, holding her in place so he could press more tightly against her, daring her not to run away.

Her ass was as tight as the rest of her.

She didn’t run away screaming or collapse into a fit of tears. No, she flattened her breasts against his chest, lifting up onto the tips of her toes, fitting her hips against him, widening her mouth, lapping at his tongue, tugging at his shoulders.

Her hands came up to touch his upper arms, digging into the muscles there, before sliding around him.

She didn’t seem scared. Not even a little bit.

With a muffled curse, he slanted his mouth over hers so he could get deeper, shoving his tongue into her mouth in deliberate invasion. His cock pulsed painfully against her, demanding that he pull off the remaining towel, spread her legs, and fuck her right there against the bulkhead.

He tugged the towel down and took a hungry handful of a warm, round breast.

When he traced his thumb over a rigid peak, she moaned again, and it was the softest sound he’d ever heard. He did it again just so he could hear it one more time. She closed her hand in his hair, demanding, and the last shred of his control snapped.

4

He’s a dick

KLYM’S WHOLE BODY felt like it belonged to someone else. It was as if she was on fire, but the burn was good, it was as if she’d been given some dangerously addictive substance and all she wanted was more, like she’d been possessed by some sort of beast, a wild beast that was hungry and knew exactly what it wanted.

It didn’t even care how. His tongue in her mouth, his hand on her breast, that hard, pulsing part of him against her belly, it wasn’t enough. The fiery-drug-beast Klym wanted more. More of his smell. Like wood and musk and spice, and it made her eyelids feel like they weighed about a hundred pounds.

Except this was wrong. So very wrong. If they were to go any further, she had no idea what might happen. Their physiologies were so different. Her people only mated once in a Bonding that made them incapable of going more than a few hours without repeated intercourse. They’d be stuck on this planet if it went too far until the lust ran its course. Would she be addicted to him? Or he to her? Both? Neither?

Strangely, it didn’t seem that big of a deal at the moment. It seemed like a very good idea, in fact. Even better if he was addicted to her. She could just picture him on his knees before her, begging for he—

He gripped her bottom, thrusting that hardness against her, and the thought evaporated under the onslaught of a fresh, violent blast of heat. He smelled so good.

A distant memory stirred, even as she moaned and pressed onto the tips of her toes, pulling him closer.

He did something on her breast that made her writhe.

There was a reason she shouldn’t be doing this. A someone, a someone who was important.

Who wasn’t a beast, who didn’t turn her into a beast.

Torum’s eyes slitted open, the heavy black lashes sweeping up to reveal dark, unreadable eyes. His brows moved, and he straightened, muttering unintelligible Vestigi. His hand dropped from her breast.

He closed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a little shove against the bulkhead. “When I ask you a question,” he said, forcing his voice to come out as hard and