by Vonna Harper
She did honestly desire him, and that desire was the only truth he could trust about the little trickster.
Crouched low at the end of the bed, he turned his gaze to his prisoner's flat belly, so pale in comparison to his own skin tones. His gaze drifted lower, to the thatch of bright red curls, a winsome triangle that failed to entirely cover the succulently plump lips to her passage, a narrow channel no lover had ever breached.
There was no question as to her body's receptiveness; her pubic curls glistened with need, the notch swollen. Oh, he incited her arousal all right, even as she withheld her love, giving that sweet sentiment to another.
No need for her petitioning. He always repaid his obligations -- the Sald would have their sanctuary. Shelter was the least of the debt he owed; he would grant the Brothers and Sister safe shelter and more. His gratitude to that clan would last throughout his life.
And so there was no need for her to wheedle and scheme for the Sald -- what Kore gave, he gave freely. But he had not the forbearance to refuse Amilaw's provocation. As she herself had remarked, with the tempest upon them, all they had was the here and now. Though it was unprincipled, he had longed for her for too many revs to give her up now.
Making the most of the now, Kore leaned forward and worshipfully kissed first one perfect breast, and then the other before setting one stipulation.
“No deal,” he growled. “Give to me because it is what you desire.”
He sensed the immediate withdrawal of her feelings.
Amilaw would let him have her body, but would distance herself from any deeper connection. This Kore would not allow -- one thing to be used, another to be ignored. He had been ignored all his life, looked right through by his clan. Amilaw would see him for who he was during this, the most intimate of acts.
Kore gently suckled a nipple, his tongue tenderly courting the upright arrow.
Unable to block him out, Amilaw gave a husky cry. Her mien going from a retreat to active engagement, she reached up for him. Him. Not Sethne. He sensed she now knew who was forcing sensations upon her, who was making her feel something when she didn't want to feel anything -- the Keht barbarian.
“Harder,” she insisted, her fingers tightening on his forearm. “Do it harder! Bite me. Leave your mark.”
He cringed. Intentionally break the soft, pale, silky skin that drew him?
And then Kore knew -- as she rejected him, so, too, did she reject the sweet lovemaking he offered. Drawn to his animal magnetism, she looked for barbarous foreplay, not soft caresses.
With a sigh, he bit her nipple, then soothed the ache with his tongue. He did the same to the other nipple. Bite and soothe, savage and heal, until she purred deep in her throat.
Hurt and pleasure -- once his appetites had called for the same. And so he would pleasure her while hurting her, hurt her while pleasuring her, if that was what she needed him to do.
When Kore took a deep breath, the action released her breast from between his teeth. He looked down into her face as she avariciously licked her lips, rubbed her reddened and wet nipple.
“Do you give to me?” he asked.
“Aye.”
“Every part of your body?” He would not ask for her love, would not force her to lie.
“Aye. My body is yours, my liege.”
“Then offer me your neck, as a defeated animal does.”
He read fear in her eyes. Excitement, too. She feared that primitive, uncivilized part of herself, that wild side of her that so aptly matched the wildness in him, even as that hidden part of him, that animal part of him, excited her.
At his instruction, she arched her neck on the furs, presenting him with her vulnerable throat.
He dipped his head to the task. As she rocked back and forth on the furs and made small mewling noises, Kore suckled and bit into Amilaw's pale flesh. Bruising her, breaking the skin, he made his way down her body, alternately enflaming and then soothing the fire away, whilst leaving angry red marks behind.
Her thighs fell open, her pelvis raised.
One hand under her bottom, his palm shelving her at the demarcation between the round halves, he dragged her forward. As he had positioned himself on his haunches, her hips now rested atop his thighs, her legs propped up on his shoulders.
He opened her. All the way open. Separating the folds, he peered inside at the wet pink flesh, closely examining the succulent bud at the top.
To give her surcease, he plied his thumb to the nubbin.
Panting, she pulled at the single chain that held her captive on the bed. “Oh-oh-oh.”
He pinched the end of her wounded teat, whilst squeezing, always squeezing, that small scrap of flesh at the top of her slit.
Moisture dripped from her opening. Dipping his head, he rubbed his face into the female secretions, smelled her female animal musk, lapped the wetness into his mouth, his tongue flicking fast, slow, fast again. Finally, he pierced the passage with his tongue.
* * * * *
What people are saying about
Tempest
Tempest is a wonderfully written erotic romance that will entertain and please readers on several levels. From its well-written prose, to its intricate plot and characterization, to the sizzling sex scenes, Tempest offers something for every reader.
-- Terrie Figueroa, Romance Reviews Today
In Tempest, Ms. Trent has written a fantastic futuristic love story that I was unable to put down… A fascinating plot, scorching love scenes and two wonderful characters that will live with the reader well after the story is finished. This one is a keeper!
-- Luisa, Cupid's Library Reviews
The love scenes are so hot and steamy, I would not have been surprised to see steam rise from the pages. The supporting characters are well-developed and add a sense of balance to the story…Ms. Trent has penned a story of love on a futuristic world that I enjoyed very much.
-- Susan White, Coffee Time Romance
