Taken by Storm

by Anna Argent

  Questioning his ability to protect her was the worst sort of insult. Anger surged beneath his skin so violently he could feel it twist his face. He had no idea what macho meant, but the way she said it added another layer to his fury.

  By the time the last alarm gave out a low beep, indicating it was functioning as he intended, his whole body was trembling with the power of his anger. He closed the cover with care so as not to damage the device, and tried to keep his voice calm. “You are going to regret your stubbornness when you are exhausted before your duties even begin.”

  Before he knew what she was intending, she crossed the space between them and pointed a finger in his face. “I told you I haven’t decided if I’m going to do my duty or not.”

  “You will do the right thing,” he said, as much to reassure himself as her.

  “And so will you.” She grabbed his braid and pulled him toward the sleeping bag.

  Shock rattled through him, leaving behind a jagged layer of contempt. He covered her hand with his to keep her from tearing out his hair, and it took his utmost concentration to keep from crushing her delicate fingers.

  “What do you think you are doing?” he demanded.

  “You’re acting like a two-year-old, so I’m dragging you to bed like one.”

  Fury ignited deep in his gut, going up in a sudden fiery flash. He was a proud and accomplished warrior. No one handled him like an errant child, not even the empress herself.

  He wrapped his arms around her, knocked her legs out from under her with one swift swipe of his foot, and practically tossed her onto the shiny bedding. His body followed hers down, slowing the fall while simultaneously pinning her to the floor. His hand cradled the back of her head to keep her from striking it, but he wasn’t gentle about his weight. He let her feel his bulk holding her down, reminding her that while she might hold status over him, he was still stronger and more physically capable.

  Her lips parted in surprise. Her hair fanned around her in waves the color of sand and seashells.

  Her hold on his braid loosened, gliding over it to the end where the ribbons were knotted. That gentle tug on his scalp sent shivers dancing over his spine.

  Beneath him, her body seemed to melt as it had once before, accepting his weight and shifting slightly to shape herself to him.

  The flames of anger subsided with her submission, but the slow burn sweeping through him shifted, growing deeper and hotter.

  Her lips parted as if she was remembering what had happened the last time he’d had her in this position—how he’d covered her mouth with his. But this time was different. There was a keen, feminine awareness in her gaze—a desire that hadn’t been there when he’d met her.

  He ached for another taste of her, but held steady, letting his rampaging emotions run their course. If he was hasty, if he acted while still under the influence of his anger, he knew that his desire to teach her a lesson on how to treat a warrior with respect would end in something more.

  A pink flush darkened her cheeks, and the color of her eyes shifted from tropical blue to a dark leaden green.

  Isa gripped his braid again, wrapping it slowly, deliberately around her palm, almost daring him to stop her. She pulled, silently demanding he obey. Only this time, she wasn’t treating him like some child. Not when she was looking at him with that heat flaring in her gaze, daring him to defy her.

  She was challenging him. Testing his boundaries. If he let her get away with it, he was certain her respect for him would diminish.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen. He didn’t want her to remember him as some pathetic, weak-willed servant.

  He should have stopped. He should have rolled away and left her tucked inside the swath of shiny, padded fabric, ignoring the barbs to his honor. The cold air would have cleared his head and reminded him exactly why it was he shouldn’t be right where he was, feeling her supple warmth stretched out beneath him. But getting up now, leaving her lying there when she was offering him another heady taste of paradise…he simply wasn’t that strong.

  Warrian let her pull him close. He watched as her lips parted in anticipation, and her eyes fluttered shut. The moment his mouth settled over hers, he knew she had defeated him utterly.

  She tasted better than he remembered: hot and sweet, with just enough abandon to go to a man’s head.

  A soft sigh floated out of her, making his body clench with a hot blast of need. There was no warming up with Isa, no easing into the sensations of the flesh. She consumed him with even the slightest touch, driving the rest of the world away in the space of a single heartbeat.

  Her mouth ate at his, bold and demanding. “I want you. I don’t know how to want you this much and not have you.”

  Warrian was shaken all the way to his soul. Her confession left him humbled and aching with lust so keen he was sure it would slice him in two.

  The fiery, sweet taste of her was still on his tongue. The heat of her skin still wrapped around his, begging him to pull her close once more. The feel of her essence, so bright and vivid, still lingered within him, warming him from the inside out.

  All of that was an illusion, albeit a powerful one. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to resist the lure and remember his duty.

  With what remained of his honor, he gathered his will and pulled his mouth away. “I shouldn’t want this.”

  “But you do. Just as much as I want it—as much as I want you, Warrian.”

  He was aroused and aching. The thin fabric of his pants did little to shield her from his obvious need. But rather than shying away or pretending she hadn’t noticed, she rolled her hips toward him in eager appreciation, and shifted her legs to make room for him to settle between.

  Warrian fit against her so perfectly, it felt like coming home. The desperate little undulations of her body inflamed him, stripping away one more layer of his control.

  He tightened his grip on the back of her head and tugged to expose her neck. The sleek, feminine lines of her throat called to him, luring him to slide his tongue along her skin.

  If he could resist giving into that temptation, if he could pull enough air into his lungs to shove out the potent lust rising like a tide within him, then he was certain he would be able to roll away before he’d done anything irrevocable.

  He closed his eyes tight, blocking out the sight of her lovely face and the stain of arousal coloring her cheeks. He’d thought that not seeing her would help, but instead, it only served to highlight the feel of her delicate body beneath his, and the searing heat between her thighs.

  Her fingers settled on his face, as gentle as a breeze. He heard a flicker of pain in her voice, as if he’d stomped upon her tender feelings. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  She had to know the truth. It was the only way he could think to prevent them from making this mistake. “Because when I look at you, I don’t see an empress. I don’t see the hope of our world. I see only a woman I wish to possess, to claim utterly, until the heat of passion consumes us both.”

  She shivered beneath him. The soft sweep of her breath caressed his cheek. When she spoke, he could feel her lips move just beneath his ear. “For now, I’m not an empress or anyone’s only hope. I’m just a woman who wants to find a few moments of pleasure with a man I choose before my life as I know it is over.” She bit his earlobe gently, driving a shudder of lust through him. “Now the question is, Warrian, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to give me what I want, or should I find someone else who will?”

  He went still above her, unable to believe what he’d heard. His warrior’s instincts rose up to meet her challenge, coming out in the form of a low, feral growl. All thoughts of station and duty were shattered and left behind as unimportant fragments beneath his notice. Hot blood pounded through him, filling his limbs with the need for action.

  Warrian cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. “There will be no one else. No other men. If you demand pleasure, then I will be the o
ne to give it to you. Until you can take no more. Until you scream. Until your challenge is met so completely that you have no choice but to acknowledge my complete and total victory.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Isa hadn’t meant to issue any kind of challenge, but she wasn’t about to argue with Warrian. Not when he was ready to give her exactly what she wanted.

  His vibe had shifted so fast over the past couple of minutes, she was still reeling, trying to catch up with what had happened. Gone was the stoic, self-controlled warrior, and in its place was a hot, aggressive male looming over her with heated intent sparking in his eyes.

  Warrian was way more man than she was used to, but she was determined to find a way to handle him all the same. After everything she’d suffered tonight, she deserved something good. Something hot and vibrant. Proof that she was alive and safe and so was he.

  If unintentionally issuing some challenge was what got him off, then she was going to be the most challenging woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Her tongue peeked out to taste the slick skin inside his bottom lip. His groan of pleasure was a low rumble of sound she felt all the way to her bones. His mouth became hungry, moving over hers with the kind of need most women never had the pleasure of experiencing. His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head where he wanted it to go so he could deepen the kiss.

  Isa let him drive, thrilling in the reckless abandon that had overcome him. There was no pretense here. He wasn’t kissing her out of some sense of duty, or because she ordered him to do so. He kissed her like his world would end if his lips left hers.

  She reveled in his attention, in the sheer force of his will, floating along like a leaf in a storm with no choice but to enjoy the ride.

  A heated hum flowed over her skin. An aching need grew inside of her, demanding to be appeased. She’d been through too much tonight. Her mind was overloaded with worry and danger. Only his kiss, his touch could drive away the fear and make things better.

  He ripped his mouth away, staring down at her with stark, blatant hunger. His chest expanded with each rapid breath, reminding her of just how powerful his body was.

  Isa wanted to be on the receiving end of that power. She wanted to open herself up and let him give to her and take from her what he wanted. Even the thought of doing so made her shiver in pleasure.

  She reached for the hem of his shirt, shoving it up and wriggling down until she could get her mouth on him. Her lips met the hot, hard flesh of his chest. His pecs clenched violently under her touch. Bands of muscles tightened over his abdomen, disappearing down under his pants. She wanted to follow the path they created, nipping and sucking at his skin until he was shaking with the need for more.

  Her hands trembled as she pressed them over his heart, feeling the strong beat beneath her palms. It wasn’t like her to fall into bed with a man so quickly, but a lot had happened tonight. She so wanted to dive into something good, something not tainted with fear or pain.

  She didn’t understand her sudden need to grab him and hold on tight, but she was out of steam, exhausted and trembling under the weight of what was bearing down on her.

  An entire world of people depending on her to be some kind of hero? It was too much stress. She wasn’t equipped to be anyone’s savior.

  But this—this hot, hard man in her arms—this was something she knew how to handle. With pleasure.

  She pressed her mouth against a thick pad of muscle and swirled her tongue over his salty skin. Her fingers dug into his back, feeling the heavy flex and play of his strength.

  Warrian let out a silent growl she felt rumble against her lips. He gathered her hands and gripped her wrists together, pinning them to the sleeping bag above her head.

  “I want to see you. All of you. You will bare yourself to me.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command, with the faintest hint of warning running through it.

  Isa suppressed a shiver, unwilling to let him see just how much his words affected her. “If you want me naked, let go of my hands.”

  He did. Slowly. The pads of his fingers were slightly rough, scraping over her wrists in a way that made nerves along her spine light up and dance.

  As soon as she was free, she held his gaze as she whipped the thick shirt off over her head. She was sure her hair was a mess, but Warrian didn’t seem to even notice.

  He stared at her breasts, completely enthralled. The color in his cheeks darkened and his nostrils flared. He reached out and cupped one breast in his big hand, closing his eyes as if savoring the feel of her.

  The heat of his palm sank into her, making goose bumps rise over her chest. Her nipples puckered tighter, and a shimmering sensation winged its way down to her clit. Her abdomen clenched with need, dragging a gasp from her lips.

  She tried to sit up so she could kiss him again, but he pushed her back down. “More,” he said, a low growling demand. “Show me all of you.”

  Isa was shaking so hard now her hands barely functioned. She reached down to the stretchy elastic band of her sweats and panties, and shoved the fabric down. Warrian grabbed it and pulled it free of her legs, knocking her shoes off in the process.

  He pushed the sleeping bags aside and shifted so that the firelight from the barrel flickered over her skin. Even the frigid air surrounding them couldn’t penetrate the searing heat of his gaze. His entire body was still. Only his eyes moved as he stared at her. He took his time and looked his fill.

  Quiet, fervent words spilled from his lips in a language she didn’t recognize. The sound washed over her, like warm water lapping at her skin, caressing her entire body with each passing wave.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “Beautiful,” he said, stroking her from her ankles all the way up to her waist. His big hands covered her ribs as they glided over them on his way to cup her face. He hadn’t touched the places she ached most, leaving her squirming for more.

  As he stared into her eyes, she saw more of those pinpoint fireworks explode so fast there was no pause between the volleys. His body was taut, and the aggressive press of his erection against her belly was driving her mad with the need to touch and taste.

  He leaned up to strip his shirt off, displaying the most magnificent body she’d ever seen. A fine sprinkling of hair spanned his chest, leading down below his waistband. Twin bands of muscles angled in from his hips—all pointing to the heavy thrust of his cock. His sweatpants were making a valiant effort to contain him, but failing.

  Warrian kissed her, demanding her complete and total attention. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was aggressive, on the verge of serving as a warning of what was to come.

  And in that moment, she realized that she had no idea what normal sex was like for him. For all she knew, he would want things from her that she wouldn’t want to give. What if he had some strange, unpleasant fetish?

  Isa turned her mouth aside so she could speak. “I think we should slow down and talk about this.”

  His mouth moved down her throat, leaving a hot, wet trail of shivering pleasure in its wake. “You enjoy talk? I will talk. What would you like to hear first? How my mouth will feel between your thighs as I kiss and lick you there?”

  A dark shiver coursed through her at his words, shaking her whole body. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

  He rubbed the back of his fingers over her nipple, back and forth. Sparks from the garala pricked against her skin, creating a sensation so sharply pleasurable it was almost pain.

  She tried to talk, but her words were cut off by her own breathless gasp of enjoyment.

  “Perhaps you would like me to speak of the way I will fill you, driving deep, stretching your sweet body until there is no room for anything between us but slick, gliding pleasure.” He covered her other nipple with his mouth, licking and sucking until she was gasping for air.

  She grabbed his hair in her fists, intending to pull his head away, but the suckling heat of his mouth grew until it was the center of her world. She couldn
’t imagine existing without it.

  A deep ache clenched her belly, demanding attention. She gripped his thigh with hers, rubbing herself against the hard muscles. The fabric of his pants became damp as it dragged across her labia.

  This superficial contact would never be enough. She needed more—she needed the picture he’d painted—his mouth on her, his cock filling her.

  Isa worked her hands beneath his clothes to cup his firm ass. A rumbling growl was the only warning she had that she’d crossed some line. He jerked away from her body, pulling her hands free of his pants. He knelt over her, his shoulders rising and falling with his uneven breathing. His hair was a chaotic, dark mess framing his face, making him look like some kind of wild animal. “You will not rush me,” he said, his voice sharp with accusation. “I will savor you, devouring you by slow, small degrees.”

  “And what if I want to savor you?” she asked. “Don’t I get to touch too?”

  Sparks flared in his eyes, so bright they nearly blocked out the slate blue of his irises. He stood, a graceful, powerful move, holding her gaze while he stripped away his clothes. The heavy weight of his erection thrust in front of her, tempting her to see just how far she could push him.

  Isa went to her knees. She gripped him in her hand, silently daring him to stop her as she stroked his length. His powerful body shook as he stood before her. His thighs and abdomen clenched hard with each slow glide of her hand.

  She reveled in her power over him, watching as his head fell back in abandon. A silky bead of wetness formed at the tip of his cock, and she gathered it up, spreading it over his length to help speed her hand’s pace.

  It wasn’t enough. Holding him in her fingers only inflamed her more. She needed to taste him and hear his groans of pleasure as she loved him with her mouth.

  She suffered a moment of pause, wondering if he would find what she liked to be some strange, uncomfortable fetish. But as she knelt there, her mouth watering, her body shaking to possess more of him, she decided she simply didn’t care. If he didn’t like what she did, he was strong enough to stop her.