Page 22 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)

RAMSEY

Sweet Tempest…

At Asha’s brazen attitude, I am reminded of the princess and the confidence she exuded so effortlessly.

But it is not the princess I want. Not after I have partaken in the small, Penticari woman named Asha.

She satiates every part of me, to the very marrow of my bones.

Keeping her feet apart, she brings her knees together teasingly.

I pull forward, going to all fours, crawling up my Little Vaeyark so that I am face to face with her. “What you do to me,” I growl, bringing my mouth to hers and biting her lower lip.

She makes needy sounds against me, her body gyrating in a most exotic rhythm.

In a swift tug, I undo the fastens keeping her outer layer on, groaning when it falls open, revealing a see-through layer underneath that makes me feral with lust.

Her fingers claw my chest as she writhes, mewling with such need, my cock leaks into my loin shift.

I pull her away from the log so that she lies flat on the forest floor.

She reaches down, grabbing my growing bulge. I yank my pants down, eager to rub against her warm body.

“I need it,” she urges, lifting her hips and grinding against me.

I kiss down her chin and neck to her soft breasts.

She gives a frustrated grunt, jerking her hips aggressively, yearning for me.

I brush her hair away from her face, taking in the sight of her pout. “Calm down, my Little Vaeyark.”

“I want it,” she huffs, the scent of intoxicant thick on her breath.

“Can you not see me, ready to serve, eager to lick your delicious pussy?”

“No—I want it all.”

I arch a brow. “All?”

She sighs, running her fingers through my hair. “I know what this is, and what it’s not. But maybe, for a night, we could forget all that and be something more?”

“For a night?”

She nods, her eyes boring into mine. “A night.”

I can deny her nothing, but the truth is, I want more.

She will know she is mine. I will tell her after our true coupling, because she will not heed my words well when she is so deep in lust.

First, I must ready her to take me.

I kiss down her body, bathing her small breasts with my tongue to the tune of her moans. She pushes down on my shoulders, urging me to her sex.

Ravenous for the weak girl, I lick straight up her center, savoring her sweet flavor, making her soft muscles turn hard.

It is not long before she cries her release, her heels digging into my back, her fingers grabbing my hair as she grinds her hips against me, chasing precious pleasure until all at once, her body relaxes and she gives a big sigh.

Maddened by lust, I stalk up her body, rubbing my face across her skin, reveling in her warmth.

She makes her limbs pliable for me as I move into position, her eyes fixed on me, her lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“Are you sure?” I ask, though I know not why, for her scent is thick with her lust.

She nods curtly. “I want to experience this, Ramsey. I want to experience you.”

I shift my hips, lining my cock head with her wet center. The sounds that erupt from her lips make my sac fill with seed, and I wonder if I should worry that it will take, and her belly will grow round as Elena’s now is.

A part of me hopes that it does.

“Now,” weak Asha pants, her voice breathless.

My restraint snaps, and I surge into her, gasping as her tightness constricts around my length.

Her head tilts back, and she roars. For a moment, I worry I may have hurt my Little Vaeyark, but soon, she is arching, urging me to continue.

I pump into her, slowly at first, pushing harder with every thrust until I am fully seated, enveloped in her heat.

More than once I nearly lose myself, but I manage to stave off my release, chasing hers.

I bring my hand down, rubbing the sensitive nub that makes her curse so loudly.

“I’m…I’m…” Asha’s tight pussy throbs around my cock, and I can hold back no more.

I push deep inside Asha’s warm body, filling her, squeezing every last drop of my seed into her channel.

Making her mine.

Her limbs fall away, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

Despite my release, I feel my desire for her grow, and plant a dozen kisses across her cheeks, overwhelmed by a sudden urge to own the small Penticari.

“That was…unexpected,” she rasps.

“What did you not expect?”

“Your softness.”

My brow narrows. “There is not one soft spot on my body, save my?—”

“Not your body.” She giggles, gazing at me with amused eyes. “You. I never expected that you could be sweet.”

I, too, am surprised by my change of spirit around Asha, but I say nothing.

We settle into the tent, Asha burrowing into my arms, me holding her, feeling more content than I ever have.

She will not take another, as the princess had, for she is mine and mine alone, as is the way of Penticar.

I breathe her scent in deeply, finding myself aroused yet again, though I am determined to let Asha rest.

“I don’t regret what we did,” she says, nuzzling into me.

“You thought that you would?”

“I didn’t know what I was going to feel. A very real part of me hates you for how you’ve treated me, though I know you had your reasons. I guess I just hope you don’t campaign for us weaklings to go back to the shore.”

I chuckle. “I promise nothing.”

“My father would like you,” she says with a sardonic giggle, the scent of the berry mead still on her breath. “My true father, that is.”

“You think so?”

“He valued strength above all, which is why I was sent away.”

“In Tempest, a man would never dream of sending a woman away. He must have been thoroughly angered you were keeping rodents in his home.”

“The castle cats got to all the mice before I ever could.” She sighs. “But I remember my mother trying to save a few, rescuing them from the mouths of our felines and delivering them to the courtyard.”

“Ah, you seem to be much like her.”

“You are not wrong. She was small, thin, and weak, just as I am.”

“It would not surprise me if she had some hidden strength in her, as I have seen in you.”

She frowns. “I doubt that, for strong, worthy women don’t die during childbirth.”

My breath stills. “Is that what happened to her?”

She nods against my chest. “Shortly after, I was sent away, never to see my home again. And then, my father took his second wife.”

My mind goes to my seed I cast so carelessly into her womb, and what may happen to her if it grows roots.

In all my worries about weakness and tainting my line, I never once thought Asha could die. That her body could be so fragile.

And now that I know, I can hardly keep from panicking.

She stretches her body, elongating it against mine, completely oblivious to my torment.

We were never meant for these slight, pinkish girls, and coupling with them will inevitably end in tragedy.

Yet I do not see how we can turn our backs on them after coming this far, and with Elena’s pregnancy.

Asha’s primal scent lingers in the air, serving as a reminder of how desperately I want her.

She is not your Little Vaeyark, as her seed is lesser.

Why do my own thoughts wound me, casting me further into torment?

Because I want what was not meant to be mine.

“Everything I have done is so that we will be together again, for you have always been mine, and I will never let you go,” the princess had said.

I should have listened.

Now that I know the truth of the princess’s eventual arrival, there should be no debate left. It was one thing to consider the Penticari when our success was clouded, but with it inevitable—the princess’s own words—what is there to even think about?

But to deny the Penticari would mean their death.

Cruel thoughts twist in my gut, because for once in my life, my honor feels small, and I care not even for it, and as I lie awake, deprived of my sleep, it is not with longing in my heart for the one I had once cherished above all.

It is with a heaviness so thick, I can hardly breathe, for what chance does a logical brain have of winning against the fiery passion I now feel for my Little Vaeyark?