Page 5

Chapter

Five

T he female deeply amused and intrigued Samir. Perhaps that was why he had allowed her to live, and why he had brought her home until her delicious scent drove him half-mad with desire. He did not normally enjoy having any kind of weakness, but he decided that Abby was one that he could both tolerate and truly want.

She was certainly entertaining as well. He watched her lazily through slitted eyes as she wandered around his home. Her sneaky attempts to pry into things made him shake with silent laughter. She was truly adorable, and so very determined. But she also had a good heart, which was what truly solidified his interest. He could tolerate a certain amount of foolishness but not something twisted or spoiled within. And Abby was like a breath of fresh air to him when he had spent so long breathing in the dank air of the caverns.

He did not count going out into the desert at night. As beautiful as the desert it was, the experience had long lost its magic. Prowling the land had become a matter of necessity more than anything—a way to find food and procure whatever he required. It was not about pleasure. At least his cavern was a restful refuge when he did not have ridiculous humans invading it. Yet, they had sent Abby to him, so he could not be too angry at them this time.

But the humans of Dezia, especially those who caravaned across the Sanna and who dwelled in within the city, Veldala, were exhausting. As much as he enjoyed what luxuries and goods the caravans provided, he would rather not go about his business with them in such an uncivilized way. He disliked enduring the shrieks of fright from the terrorized merchants and those humans that their king sent across the desert for him. Abby was the only human who, despite her attempt to kill him and repeated attempts at escape, did not vex him. She was as charming as she was conniving and it amused him to watch her while the wheels turned in her head, working out how to escape him. Was that not the reason that he was lying in wait for her—eager to catch her once more in their delightful little game. As if that was even possible

Except she did not come, and he found that irrationally disappointing. He knew that she wished to escape and was busily plotting, but why had she not made another attempt? He doubted that she had any inkling on how futile such an effort would be. That was part of what amused him about the entire situation. He had anticipated and looked forward to putting down every single escape attempt as he luxuriated in her scent every time he dragged her beneath him. And that sweet perfume was the very reason why she would never be able to escape.

Although he did not put any further sexual demands on her since their first encounter, he did insist that she share his bed with him, and he was now so familiar with her scent that he could likely find her anywhere. Her scent was unequivocally delicious. Even thinking of its sweet fragrance made him more aware of her perfume drifting through his cavern. The musk was quite tantalizing, and he lifted his lips to draw it more fully into him until he could practically taste it, a low purr rumbling through his chest.

It was truly decadent. It was not quite as delicious as the scent and taste of her that he had enjoyed the day before when he had her pinned beneath him, but he knew that nothing would ever be able to compare to the velvety flavor of her desire. Just thinking of it as he breathed in her scent made his cock ache within his sheath. He wanted to mount her again but this time properly with her full cooperation. He wanted to rut her in earnest without worrying about escape and until she mewed like a kitten with unfettered pleasure beneath him before shrieking her pleasure to the ears of the deep-dwell gods.

His breath shuddered from him in a broken pant. His hands fisted as his claws sank deep into the thick pads of his palms. As much as we pleased to tear apart the humans who threatened him, he wanted Abby with an instinctive demand that was difficult to ignore. Why did he not just take her again and slake his need? It would be as easy as before. The first time was a game and a test, exploring the limits of her arousal. This time he could fully slake his need upon her, rutting her until his seed was entirely spent from his sac. Perhaps then he would finally drive the aching need from his loins that had been unwelcomingly sprung on him.

If he no longer desired her, could he be capable of killing her then?

Grumbling with disgust at his internal reflections, Samir stalked restlessly through his cavern. He needed something to take his mind off such terrible ruminations. While he understood many of his brethren in ages long past had felt otherwise, he did not enjoy killing humans. He certainly could not stomach the thought of eating them. That it even crossed his mind that he would be capable of killing Abby when she tormented and amused him so much for no other than just because his lust would be satiated disturbed him. That he considered forcing himself on her at all made him ill. She was not currently aroused and intoxicating him with heavy doses of her pheromones. He would not touch her again unless she invited him to.

He most definitely needed a distraction.

Biting back a growl he stormed into the main chamber and came to an immediate halt at the sight of the female sitting in his chair with one foot propped against its arm while the other swung lazily from where her leg was draped over it. He had never seen furnishing treated so carelessly. He considered how to deal with it, but his ire rose rapidly when she turned her head to peer at him smugly as she ground her foot against the chair’s intricate weave. He bit back a snarl of annoyance as he stared at the offending foot as her chuckle tripped over his frayed nerves.

“Is there a problem, Samir?” she cooed. “All you have to do is let me go and you would never have to deal with footprints on your favorite chair ever again.”

His eyes narrowed at her. She was very perceptive. Although the main chamber had only two chairs, that was his favorite. His mouth quirked as he caught on to her intent. Instead of trying to sneak out, she was hoping to force him into driving her out. A deep chuckle rolled from his chest, immediately drawing a frown from his lovely captive.

“No problem other than having to discipline an unruly kitten,” he observed as he bent and plucked her up.

Abby squealed within his arms as she attempted to wriggle away but it was a short trip to the other chair into which he unceremoniously dumped. She sputtered as she brushed her curly hair from her eyes to glare up at him, but he merely grinned in turn as he settled once more into his chair. This was more like it.

“Now,” he purred, “for your bountiful consideration for my welfare, I can do no less but reward you. There is an ancient song that praises the beauty and charm of females, and I shall sing it for you now in demonstration of my thanks.”

He grinned at her, baring his sharp teeth briefly before launching into song. It was truly evil, but it amused him too to see her look of dismay when he rumbled the first verse. The poor little kitten. Though he knew the lyrics of many ancient poems and songs by heart, there was not a manticore alive who was capable of reasonably carrying a tune. He growled and moaned through the lyrics, growing increasingly satisfied as she shrank further into her chair. She did not put her hands over her ears, however. He had to give her credit for that. But the way her lips were twisted in a grimace and her eyes wide with a look of panic as if she was struggling to contain her distaste nearly made him ruin his performance with a snort of laughter.

She was adorable, entertaining, and polite. How charming.

He ended the song on a long growl, and he hid a smile as she promptly clapped hands in a weak show of feigned enthusiasm. His eyes glinted at her as he leaned forward and grinned.

“Did you enjoy it, kitten?”

“It was marvelous,” she baldly lied. “I am truly impressed by your unexpected skill. I never knew feline species could sing so well. Truly, you’re a credit to your species.”

Samir grinned in response. “Ah, perhaps you would enjoy another song. I know a great many.”

Abby froze and warily looked up at him. “How many… exactly?”

“Hundreds,” he purred. “I would be delighted to entertain you with them to demonstrate my great appreciation.”

She shot to her feet, and he nearly lost control of himself as the look of panic on her face. “Not necessary!” she practically shouted before schooling her features in a faint smile. “That is to say… I intended to explore the cavern a bit more, if that’s okay?”

He inclined his head graciously and stood. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I would not mind a small stroll around the caves to accompany you.”

Her smile fled at his statement. “Oh. That’s really not?—”

“Do you really imagine that I will not know when you venture from my cave?” He blinked at her guilelessly. “Do you imagine that you will get far? Do you believe that you will do better than last time? Or any of the other times I cut off your escape route, though I saved you the embarrassment of making it appear as a coincidence?” His lips inched upward into a knowing smile. “Or did you truly delight in the hunt as much as I?”

Face going pale, Abby shook her head and took several steps back from him. “That’s okay. On second thought, I think I saw some paper and ink. I may just go amuse myself for a while.”

“Excellent idea,” he rumbled and chuckled when she fled deeper into the cavern toward his study.

He did not know what he was worrying about earlier. He was never going to tire of his little kitten. Purring softly, he followed behind her and took a seat at his desk as he pretended to busy himself with looking at his ledgers while she sprawled on the floor like a youngling and began to paint images. Ink was costly and hard to come by as not every caravan carried it, but he did not mind. Watching her slowly relax and forgetting her discomfort in his presence as she sank deeper into her own pleasure at that moment was worth its weight in treasure.

Treasures he had plenty of, but his coffers were empty of moments like these. So, he watched her contently, wrapping himself up in the moment. It granted him a surprising amount of peace and for a moment he imagined how she would look, her expression softened and entirely at ease as she lay at his feet playing with a cub or two or painting her little pictures with them.

He shook his head and laughed quietly.

Cubs? Since when did he ever desire such? Besides, it was far too soon to be caught in whimsical fantasies. Offspring meant mating. Mating was not some mere lark. Mating for a manticore, like many species, was forever. Abby was amusing and he hungered for her company in a multitude of ways as he was slowly discovering. But mating? And cubs?

No. He would not entertain such considerations. He did not hunt out a mate in the ancient way. She was a female who was sent to slay him, not a bride, and he was no young male to be caught in flights of fantasy. He would enjoy his huntress just as she was. It did not need to be anything more.