Pure Desire [Pure 3] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Barbour, Carolina

  Noor took a deep breath. If somebody plays you for a fool, you seek revenge. The mantra resounded in his head. “Upon our arrival, Allura went into political custody, and then was handed over to the emperor as a bargaining tool. There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.”

  “So you sat on your hands and allowed some bastard to force her into marriage, not to mention the other ungodly things this man did. You know what, in Texas, we believe in swift justice, an eye for an eye. All political grandstanding your kind seems to favor means nothing when someone harms someone you love.” Channing was in Noor’s face. He pointed his finger between his eyes. “You did things your way. Now, I will handle matters to my satisfaction, which means I will hunt this emperor-idiot down and let him know in no uncertain terms you don’t mess with a Deverill.”

  “I’m telling, not asking, you to let me handle things, Channing. Now, get your hand out of my face before things between us go bad.” When he didn’t move, Noor caught Channing’s hand between his clenched fingers and shoved it away. Channing didn’t like that. He didn’t give a damn.

  Fists started flying like turbulence.

  Channing landed a punch to Noor’s chin. Noor smashed Channing a good one, grabbed him by the arm, twisted, and put him in a chokehold to subdue him. When Pulura entered, she found Channing gasping for air and turning a peculiar hue.

  She stormed over to them. “Noor Rynoir, you release Channing this instant!”

  “I will when he calms down.”

  Channing growled, broke the hold, whirled around, and delivered a powerful kick to Noor’s midsection that made him double over.

  “Sonofabitch.” Noor sucked in air, and then launched at Channing like a projectile and bowled him over. He pounced on Channing, grinded his knee into his chest, and pinned him solid.

  “He is going to kill him!” Pulura shrieked when Vale and Angel walked inside the chamber.

  Angel looked at Noor and Channing disinterested, sat down, and crossed his arms and legs. His tone nonchalant, he said, “Noor is the law, auntie. I doubt he will kill in cold blood. He might hurt the young fellow a little, but if so, Noor probably has a damned good reason.”

  Pulura slammed her balled hands to her hips. She glared at Angel. “That is not funny, mister.”

  Vale came up on Pulura’s side and patted her on the back. “Auntie, you know Angel doesn’t have a humorous bone in his body. What’s going on here?” he asked, taking a ringside seat.

  “He is a hothead and needs to learn his lesson,” Noor said.

  “Go to hell,” Channing spit. He put his knee in Noor’s stomach and shoved him away.

  “Umm…he’s good,” Angel said.

  “Noor had me down like that one time, and I couldn’t budge him,” Vale said, amused.

  “Are you two just going to stand there and do nothing?” Pulura said.

  Noor and Channing circled each other like two rams about to butt heads, each determined to win the pissing contest.

  Angel shrugged. He was interested in a move Channing did, where he swept his brother’s ankle and set Noor on his ass.

  More diplomatically, Vale attempted to appease Pulura by offering an explanation. “It’s probably best to let them get it out of their systems. Being alpha males and all, these situations are rarely handled amicably.”

  Pulura’s stony stare intensified. Then she let loose with a litany of brutal admonishes for all the men present that left their ears ringing.

  Vale grinned. “Auntie, I didn’t think you had that in you.”

  Angel spoke matter-of-factly. “She is a Rynoir.”

  “After what you did to my sister, I should kill you!” Channing breathed.

  “I saved her!” Noor shouted back. He sprung to his feet.

  “Like hell you did!” Channing snarled, and then tackled Noor.

  Noor spun out of the hold, lifted his knee, and rocked Channing back. He grabbed him by the collar—Channing flew through the air, landed with a thud, destroyed a priceless figurine, and smashed it to fragments.

  Seeing Channing shake it off, Noor pointed at him. “Stay down!”

  Channing ran his fingers through his hair, moving it out of his eyes, and wiped the sweat from his face. He was on all fours, taking in air. He looked up at Noor. “You are a bastard!”

  “And you are an asshole. I don’t know why I’m even considering marrying into your family because I’m sure you will be a thorn in my ass for the eternity of our marriage,” Noor roared.

  “You can marry my sister when hell freezes over!”

  “I was making a statement, not asking permission.”

  Pulura hurried over to Channing and tried to help him up. “Darling, please don’t do that.” He politely moved her aside.

  “You’re bleeding,” Pulura whispered, worry etched in her expression.

  Channing wiped the blood from his mouth with his shirtsleeve. He looked at the crimson stain against the white material and then at Noor. The sound that escaped from his mouth was low and primal—he lunged, landed a jab into Noor’s jaw, and caused his head to rock like a bobble head.

  “You two stop it this instant!” Pulura stomped her foot. Tears bubbled in her bottom lids, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  After seeing how distraught Pulura had become, Vale and Angel were up on their feet in a millisecond. One grabbed Noor, the other Channing, and subdued them both until they stopped trying to rip each other apart.

  Channing cursed beneath his breath, jerked free of Angel’s hold and stalked from the room.

  Pulura turned on Noor, her tone curt. “Now, see what you have done. I have a mind never to speak to you again until you apologize.” She went after Channing.

  “What the hell was that about?” Noor said, working his shoulder and rubbing his jaw. He looked genuinely perplexed.

  Vale grinned. “Gentlemen, I believe we just witnessed the second revelation for today. Auntie has the hots for Channing.”

  Noor looked at his brother. “What is the first one?”

  Angel said, “Maybe Channing knocked you in the head too many times. Don’t you remember saying you intended to marry Allura? You are the certified bachelor?”

  “I have to save her from Emperor Agaci,” Noor mumbled.

  Vale said, “As a married man, let me give you some advice. If that is your only reason for wanting Allura, I wouldn’t tell her that. Especially when she is already, ah, what did she say?” He turned to Angel for help.

  “She is gunning for your head. I believe those were her exact words. Oh, and then she said something about putting a bullet in you. What’s a bullet?”

  Noor groaned. With anybody else, the threat would have gone over his head. Allura had to be taken seriously…he had sense not to ignore a threat from a woman who packed a six-shooter. There was the redeeming feature her gun hadn’t transported. That gave him a measure of relief. Somewhat. Allura was resourceful, if nothing else.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Channing nearly shouted, “Do you think I’m a boy?”

  Calmly, Pulura gathered a cloth, an antiseptic, and a suturing gel before she walked over to Channing. Without a word, she dabbed the cut over his eyebrow. She started administering to his injuries, and then responded. “I never said that.” She tried to touch him again. Channing caught her hand.

  “This is serious, Pulura. If you don’t trust me to protect myself, how can you think I’m capable of keeping you safe?”

  “You and Noor beating each other senseless didn’t prove anything to me except you obviously have a problem and might need to seek anger-management counseling. I know a very good therapist.”

  Channing looked at her, wondering if she was serious. “What the devil does that mean?” he snapped, annoyed with what he considered was her clinical analogy. He wasn’t in the mindset to hear it, let alone decipher it.

  “Do not take that tone with me.”

  Channing settled down. “I apologize. It’s just the way you
tried to hide me beneath your skirts was damned humiliating. My god, I will never live it down with Noor or those other bulls you call family.”

  Pulura lifted his chin and cleaned up the blood. “I don’t understand.”

  “Where I come from, a man has to be a man.”

  “I never doubted that for one moment. That doesn’t mean I condone Noor’s or your conduct.”

  “I have had to fight all my life for one thing or another. It’s innate. Something you do when you have no other choice.”

  “No, it’s how you choose to handle matters.”

  Channing sighed in frustration. How could he explain the world he lived in so that it made sense, when sometimes it was illogical to him? Like his mother’s ancestors, he and his father had to keep a constant vigil over the forty acres of land that made up the Deverill spread and fight to keep it from the greedy Matt Grahams of the world. Most nuisances came from outside Legend—foreigners who felt it was their god-given right to secure a profit in the West any way they could. They didn’t do it by using hard labor and their own sweat, but by stealing a man blind. With the gold mine his mother inherited and success of his father’s cattle breeding business, by all accords, the Deverills were the wealthiest family in Texas. They fared well in polite society, were readily accepted by most, but some people still let what they called “impure breeding” give them the right to try and bully them off their property simply because of their prejudices.

  The totality of the idiots’ thought process was absurd. A long time ago, with too many battles and senseless deaths behind him, he decided not to worry about it. When possible, his father dealt with the imbeciles by the law. If that failed, which it often did, they applied the justice of the West to handle situations, which meant you outgunned and outmanned your opponents and slaughtered them.

  Channing took the towel and tossed it aside. He folded Pulura in his arms, stroked her cheek with his fingertips, and then brushed his lips over her mouth. “In my world, a man’s ability to hold on to his own is worth its weight in gold,” he said, his tone a dulcet murmur.

  “I think that means you are saying I belong to you.”

  “You don’t now, but you will.” He lifted her into his arms and sought her bed.

  Familiar with divesting a woman of her clothes, he had Pulura stripped in record time. Then Channing undressed, and within minutes, he eased between her thighs. He kissed her hard, and then tenderly, drawing a moue from her mouth that he captured on his tongue.

  He was attentive, caressing, kneading every inch of her silken body. He mapped it with his hands, leaving Pulura in red-hot need. He glided his fingers down her belly and into the moistness between her thighs, teasing the already very hot pussy to respond and dampen at each intimate touch. He stroked tenderly, softly, easing the delicate folds to open and accept his finger. She was tight and clenched around his finger. He felt her trembling.

  Channing kissed her mouth, ran his tongue over her lips before kissing her thoroughly until he felt her juices thicken and run down his hand. Easy, he managed another finger into the snug crevice and continued softening her, widening, getting her ready to accept his cock.

  Pulura whimpered, wiggled beneath him, and moaned with pleasure as his fingers leisurely fucked inside her.

  She wasn’t a virgin but certainly felt as tight as one. He could feel her stretching, easing, as he coaxed her into withering beneath him.

  “Channing?” she said breathless.

  The control he maintained slowly started to unravel. She was hot, begging for him, and he wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted. He could feel her pussy squeezing his fingers, the feel vibrated to his cock that ached to be sheathed inside the clutches of pleasure and thrusting. He wanted to take her now, and damn having patience. His cock ached to fill her and drive hard until he fucked her into delirium until the insane wanting she ignited in him made him release and fill her with cum. Maybe then, he would find some relief from the hard desire streaking through him that had his balls locked taut.

  He spread her legs, slid down between their bodies, and licked the wet flesh with his tongue. Damn, she tasted sweet. Her cream an aphrodisiac to his tastebuds and sent him reeling.

  “God, I can’t wait to fuck you,” he mouthed. He was back in her face, hovering, moving in for a kiss. “I can’t wait any longer.” Raising her legs, he parted her and positioned himself to enter when Pulura pressed her hands against his chest to hold him back.

  “What? You don’t want me, darling?” He captured her fingers and nibbled each one.

  “There are some things you should know about me. I’m well into my first lifespan, I don’t have a lot of experience with men, and it has been a long time since I did...this. After what my husband did to me, I couldn’t bear a man’s touch for such a long period that I wondered if he ruined me forever,” she said quietly.

  Channing’s attention was soothing, a light whisper over her lips when he kissed her. His eyes never left hers, and the depth of his sincerity reflected in the brown orbs. “I don’t care about your lack of experience. What is a long time?”

  “My husband died over five years ago.” She diverted his eyes and stared at his chin.

  Five years! He tried to hide his astonishment. If he went five days without sex, he got all snarly. He caressed her cheeks, letting his fingertips glide over the ridge of her nose. “We will take it slow,” he groaned, already starting to enter the unyielding crevice. She was slick, ready to receive him, and still he had to gently prod the snug entrance to get the tip of his cock inside her. He inhaled, feeling the sleek wetness engulf his dick like a moist stocking as he pushed and buried more cock inside her pussy.

  Pulura whimpered and clawed at his back feeling the solid hardness invade and stretch her open. Her body went stiff as a bow. She was fighting him, and as a result, he knew it caused her unnecessary pain. Channing stared into her face, seeing her eyes squeezed shut and a slip of a tear roll down her cheek.

  “Look at me, Pulura.” When she opened her eyes, something in his stomach churned seeing the vulnerability and distress. “Ah, darling, I don’t want to hurt you.” He brushed her lips with his mouth, affectionately. “Don’t fight me, Pulura. Relax and let me pleasure you. You do want me don’t you? God, I’m dying for you.”

  She nodded, but he still sensed trepidation inside her body. He withdrew slightly, and then tried to push inside her again feeling her go rigid.

  Without a warning, he wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled onto his back. He gripped her hip in one hand, guided his cock to her entrance with the other. “Make love to me, darling. Show me you want me.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” Pulura cried, pitifully. She dragged her eyes to his. “Help me, Channing. Please.”

  Her pleas tore at him and something caught in his throat. In that instant, he wanted to help her, take away all her fears for whatever that bastard of a husband did to her. He captured her hips, arched, and slowly impaled her on his stiffness until she was filled. Then, ever so tenderly, he started a leisurely gyration, thrusting, ebbing inside her in a steady flux and flow. “Move with me, darling.” He increased the tempo, setting a languorous pace that made his cock ride high, retreat, and then plunge repeatedly into the scorching, tight channel.

  Pulura dug her nails into his chest. She clung to him desperately. He flexed his hips, sending his entire hard length to the max. “Channing. Oh my,” she moaned, shuddered. Her head fell and black strips of silk fanned over his chest.

  He gathered her hair and pushed it behind her ears. He framed her face and pulled her down for a kiss. “I’m here. Relax. Just let it happen, darling. Let go…enjoy the ride.”

  * * * *

  Each of his thrust helped to build the exquisite tension that mounted inside her, sending frissons of hot desire sparking inside Pulura that threatened to take her closer to the edge. The newfound sensation built to a desperate level, stealing her ability to think, breathe, and at the exa
ct moment when she realized what was happening, Channing arch his hips and sent her careening into an unknown chasm of sexual gratification.

  “Channing!” she shouted experiencing her first orgasm.

  Minutes later, she lay pleasantly sedated wrapped in Channing’s arms trying to understand this new mysterious wonder she hadn’t known existed when she was married or even afterward. Her life had become repetitive each day as she threw herself into work to ignore the stagnant routine and boredom. She intentionally kept herself secluded from others, sometimes family, and tried to exist in the neat and safe cocoon she needed after her disastrous first marriage that left her terrified. So afraid, she might feel something for someone again, who could destroy her.

  She looked at Channing and the fear resurfaced. Each time he gazed at her, touched her arm, a little quiver surfaced as she realized how easily she had fallen under the spell of him.

  Channing was much too young, enigmatic, and a forbidden temptation she shouldn’t allow herself. She couldn’t and hope to survive.

  “That was wonderful,” she said and tried to move from him.

  He held her waist possessively, his smile indulgent, and mesmerizing. “I agree. I promised you deserved to be loved slowly and thoroughly. I’m not done with you yet.”

  He started a languorous dance, moving in and around her. “That was just the beginning, darling, and there is so much more to come. I wanted you to experience pleasure first before my need to drown myself in your entire splendor. I’m afraid that means I’m not sure how long I can continue to restrain the rapacious desire I have to lose myself in your wet pussy that feels like a vice-grip of pleasure.”