Page 52 of Warlord's Mate
He grinned, those fangs shining in the low light while he fucked her the way she’d been hoping he would. Hard and with enough force she found it hard to breathe.
Her stomach clenched seconds before her body went hot, every limb tingling and her eyelids slammed shut as a scream crawled up her throat. The warlord’s thrusts grew quicker, his hold on her tightening as she finally came, her teeth clenched to keep from screaming, the pounding slap of his hips slamming into her causing her entire body to thrum. She felt him thicken moments before heat filled her and his growls were so loud she didn’t even try to hold back what she felt and knew the noise they were making had to be heard by someone outside the hut.
When he finally stilled, his face was buried against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. His hold on her loosened, but he never moved. He just stood there, holding her as their heart rates slowed and her body kept clamping down on his cock.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that but when the warlord raised his head and looked at her, then reached up to pull her hands free of the hook, something in his eyes changed. It wasn’t so much the color as it was the intensity in them. The way he was looking at her grew—softer. More—reverent.
Her arms ached when she lowered them, the blood flow returning to normal. She had no where to put them other than around his neck but he didn’t look as if he minded. The hardened warlord who had scared the shit out of her the first time she’d seen him had teased and tortured her all day, made her body ache in ways it never had before, then did the impossible. He’d come to her gently and made love to her in a way she wasn’t aware he was capable of. When he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her to him, then turned and headed for his bed, his intention was clear in his eyes. When he laid her down on his bed and covered her body with his own before kissing a path down the side of her neck to her breast, she knew without a doubt that Jityria was definitely going to kill her now. She shivered when he bit lightly on her nipple. At least she’d die happy and thoroughly fucked. She’d be sure to let Jityria know just how well before she delivered the killing blow.
Chapter Eighteen
His body ached in ways he hadn’t felt in years and as sated as he felt, the voice of reason was screaming inside his head what a fool he was.
He should have never touched her. He should have thrown her into the hole the moment they reached camp and forgotten she was there until the time was right.
What if she was another spy for Allok? What if he’d played into his enemy’s hands like a fool once again? He didn’t doubt for a moment Allok would do it but he couldn’t believe for a minute he’d had any part in Mar-see being auctioned off in the arena. Allok was a powerful warlord but none of them were powerful enough to sway the corporation. Were they?
Kr’Atek hadn’t even tried to fight him but that didn’t mean much. Not many were brave enough to challenge him. It was why Kr’Atek had betrayed him and left to begin with. He’d not been strong enough to take him on and walk away from it so he’d run to Allok with all his secrets.
Mar-see stirred and rolled to her back. The furs had fallen and laid underneath her breasts. Jorrick ran his gaze over her and knew he’d never seen a more perfectly formed female. Her breasts were round and firm and fit his hands as if they’d been made just for him.
The previous night came back to him in flashes and he grew hard with just the memory. The things she’d made him feel were so foreign he’d laid there stunned most of the night. No one should have that much power over him but she did. She made him think ridiculous things that would make the others perceive him as weak if they knew. Silly things that only a female would appreciate him saying and as he looked at her, all he wanted to do was crawl between her thighs, slide into her warmth and wrap her in his arms while whispering things only she could hear.
But he didn’t.
Jorrick crawled from the bed, trying to be careful not to wake her and dressed while watching her. If she was part of some scheme Allok had set into motion, then he’d find out. And if she was working for that bastard, he’d kill her slowly and send the warlord her pretty little head.
The thought irritated him more than it should have. He strapped his weapons on, taking in the features of her face and hoped like hell she wasn’t playing him. He’d vowed to never let another in but as he stood there looking at her, he knew it was too late. Whether it was a mating bond or just loneliness, she was his. He just hoped she wasn’t his downfall.
He grabbed his weapons, and left the hut, heading across camp in search of Vikram. His second in command had come to him the night before with reports of a disturbance and he’d been more concerned with bedding Mar-see than seeing what was happening on his borders. He found him and Aryn in a small cluster of others deep in conversation. They all looked his way as he approached.
“Warlord.” Vikram nodded his head in greeting.
“What did you find?”
“Nothing good.” Vikram turned and headed into the trees. Jorrick followed him, along with the others. “I had scouts search the entire border again looking for the men they’d seen but all they found was several bodies.”
“Are they Allok’s men or ours?”
“I can’t tell.” He glanced over at him. “There’s not much left of them.”
A sense of urgency erased the last of his worries where Mar-see was concerned. They’d still not found Aris. News of bodies along his borders made his gut twist as fear of what he’d find filled his mind. That war he wanted may be closer than he thought.
Waking up alone wasn’t unusual but working around camp all day and not seeing the warlord was.
Marcy had looked for him all day and when night had fallen and he was still nowhere to be seen, that shitty little voice in the back of her head started whispering that she hadn’t seen Jityria all day either. When full dark fell, those thoughts had only grown and made her feel even worse.
The previous day had played inside her head so many times, her body clenched tight just thinking about all the things he’d done to her, even more so when she’d crawled into his bed alone and inhaled the scent of his skin that lingered on the furs. Memories of how her body had felt alive as every touch, kiss and lick he’d placed on her flesh filled her head again.
She’d slept fitfully, staring at the ceiling most of the night wondering where he was and once visions of him in Jityria’s bed popped into her head, she was ready to chop off his dangly bits. The question, was he fucking Jityria after all? had run through her mind on repeat until she’d finally given up the pretense of sleep and ended up pacing the hut, furious at them both, trying to convince herself she wasn’t jealous. That she had no right to be. She was his captive, nothing more. It didn’t matter that he made her come so hard she nearly blacked out. She was his to do with as he pleased and if that meant fucking her then disappearing, then that’s exactly what he’d do.
She sighed. One good poking and the warlord had turned her into a jealous lunatic. She wanted to blame it on being so damn long since she’d been laid but knew it was a lie. He’d rocked her world so many times the night before, she was sure she’d walk funny for a week.
And the bastard had been gone when she woke and hadn’t come home yet!
An entire day and night passed with no sign of him and no one could tell her anything. When the sun rose on the second day, and she found herself alone in bed, she flung the furs back, dressed and stormed out of the hut.
Jityria was the first person she saw. The ire she’d felt the day before came back in an instant and she wanted to claw the heifers eyes out for no other reason than her imagination had flashed pictures of her naked with the warlord for a solid day and quite frankly, she was pissed about it. She didn’t want to think of him naked with anyone but her but the thought wouldn’t leave her.