Page 22 of Sold to the Nalgar (Stolen From Earth #3)

T he steam rose in heavy coils around him, condensing on the walls of black stone and slicking across his bare skin. Zarokh stood waist-deep in the central basin of his private baths, the water dark and mineral-rich, fed from the volcanic springs far beneath the stronghold.

Heat soaked into his muscles.

But it did nothing to ease the tension.

He stared down at his hands. The ones that had touched her. Explored her. Fed from her.

Her blood still lingered on his tongue.

Sweet. Sweeter than he’d ever tasted . There had been rumours, of course—those who had procured humans before him spoke of their exotic appeal. But they hadn’t mentioned this. The way a human female’s blood changed after pleasure. Thickened. Brightened. Saturated with desire and hormonal flush.

He hadn’t known.

Hadn’t expected the taste of her to be this divine.

And her scent—gods above, it was still in his throat. In his chest. He couldn’t scrub it away. Not from his memory. Not from his skin.

He growled low in his chest, baring his fangs in frustration as his twin cocks surged again beneath the water. His arousal was painful now, steel-hard and unrelenting. His body was demanding he return to her. Finish what he started. Take her.

He could .

She was his.

And yet…

He’d seen her eyes. Wide, dark, furious. Burning with loathing and indignation.

She had climaxed—yes—but she had done so while hating him.

And that… for some maddening reason… made him hold back.

Zarokh curled a clawed hand against the stone edge of the pool until the stone cracked beneath his palm.

What was this thing in him? This flicker of hesitation. He was warlord of the Drekar stronghold. Ruler of the riverlands from the Ashen Peaks to the Blackroot Valley. His name alone made others lower their gaze.

He had taken her from her world.

He had fought for her.

He had fed from her.

She belonged to him.

So why did he leave her? Why did he walk away?

Because if he had stayed a moment longer, he wouldn’t have stopped at feeding.

And the look in her eyes… that mix of helpless hatred and raw, reluctant pleasure… it would have turned him savage.

He would have devoured her.

Instead, he was here. Steam swirling, cocks throbbing beneath the surface, his fangs aching in his mouth.

Enduring.

Barely.

Waiting for control to return.

But even now, behind his closed eyes, he saw her face. Felt her body against his. Heard her breath catch when he touched her.

And gods help him…

He wanted her again.