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

She sucked in air, but it was like there wasn’t enough in the city. It was like her lungs had compressed.

He smelled so good her vision spun.

Focus.

“I was going to sleep on top of the building. The window opened, the light went on. I was curious. That’s all. I didn’t see anything.”

It was a really bad lie. And she said it too fast.

“You can do better.”

“It’s true.” She tried to look younger, smaller, innocent. “I’m a runaway. I move every day. I just wanted some place to sleep. Bad timing, that’s all.”

His eyes narrowed. “Try again.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. Partial honesty might work. “I’m looking for the Boss, okay?”

His eyes widened. “That’s a dangerous thing to do. Why?”

“I need his help.”

“Another lie. I know the look of someone with rage in their heart.” His gleaming eyes probed hers. “What did he do to you?”

Tessa just scowled under lowered brows. “You know him? Where is he?”

The Prime didn’t speak.

“Where can I find him?”

“No one finds him.”

“I will.”

He laughed quietly. “I doubt that.”

He could doubt it. No problem. She lived to prove people wrong. She would find the Boss. When she writhed against him, trying to tear her hands free, he only pushed in closer, so their bodies were flush from breastbone to boot tip.

“Wriggling is only making your situation worse.”

She yelped, suddenly aware of the hard pressure against her belly. It hit her like a knife to the gut. Pure lust barreled its way out of her brain, tangoed down her spine, and coiled low.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned into him, and nuzzled her cheek bone against the hot skin of his neck, arching her back, and inhaling deeply.

Did she just scent him? Big time.

Abysmos, what was wrong with her?

She jerked away. She should have had weeks before the next cycle.

He shook his head, and the light flickered over sharp cheekbones and his strong nose. His gleaming eyes bore into her. She tried to look away, but she was caught. His nostrils flared. “Felana,” he whispered, and the word held awe and surprise.

He released one of her hands, trailed a callused thumb along her palm, studied her nails with the mark of the felana written clear as day behind each nail. She may only see shadows in the dark night, but with his eyes he’d see the truth.

With his thumb and forefinger, he pulled her hat off her head, and tossed it away. Her ponytail fell free, the strands of hair tickling her neck.

She shivered despite the heat of the night, and the heat of his body. She wanted to deny the curse of her genetics, but there was no point.

The silver of his eyes gleamed intensified, as his hand around her neck skimmed its way down her body, around her hip and up the back of her shirt to palm the bare skin of her lower back, the pads of his fingers pressing in deep. He touched his nose to her temple, his lips not quite kissing, but coasting along her skin, over her jaw, down her neck. He breathing her in.

He was scenting her, and a low growl sounded in the back of his throat that had her blood pounding and racing straight between her thighs. His palm pulled her closer until she could feel him, hot and hard and madria di abysmos it had been so long since she’d been anywhere near a Prime cock but this one was calling to her, and she bucked her hips against him, wanting him closer. Needing him closer.

They both growled.

The muscles of his chest tightened under her fingers. When had her hands moved? He’d released her?

His mouth hovered over hers. She was shaking and a rush of heat pooled between her thighs. His lips touched down on hers and her mouth just fell open, letting him thrust his tongue in deep. He tasted good. So good. Like Prime man and in that moment her starved felana-body just wanted more. She wrapped her arms around him, tightening the grip of her thighs around him, riding him, mindless, but for the single burning compulsion. Fuck him. Now.

A shout sounded a few alleys back.

She jerked against him. And he froze.

He stepped back so suddenly she staggered when her feet hit the ground. “Run, felana.”

“Where is the Boss?”

“Run.”

“How do I find him.”

“Now, you idiot. Go.”

She had taken a single step, when a hard hand to her upper arm, holding her still, his big body inches behind her. “If you need help, go to the Yellow Palm. Ask for Sanger.”

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Author’s Note