Her hips found a rhythm.
“Does it still hurt? Is the burn too much?” Her cheek resting against his back, she could barely catch her breath. Heat and clean, male musk surrounded her. She inhaled, taking his scent deep inside her lungs. Deep inside her.
“Yes.”
She stilled. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Krel, no! Don’t stop. The burn…the stretch.” He pushed back.
The sensual groan sent wonderful little chills down her spine and jolt of electricity to her clit.
“Feels…good,” he panted.
Turning her head, she spoke against his skin. “Tell me what you want.”
Darias grew still. He swallowed then looked over his shoulder. His golden gaze, hot and molten, met hers.
Lightning split the sky. The huge room became an intimate cave. Rain pounded the windows. The rich burgundy carpet reinforced the impression. In the flash of brilliant white light, she saw the desire in Darias’ eyes…and something else.
“I want you to love me.”
The storm receded, the Great Hall just outside the locked door disappeared. All that mattered was Darias and the vulnerable need she saw reflected in his eyes.
“I do. I think I’ve loved you from the moment you honored your word to turn leadership over to me.”
A deep quiver ran through him and his muscular arms, holding both their weights, trembled. “Thank Quaral for that. I was certain that you could never return my love.”
Relieved laughter bubbled up inside Riana, both muting and highlighting the sensual tension. “Not a chance. You should have had your first clue weeks ago when I found excuses not to punish your deliberate insolence. You and your men continued to delete records, pretend ignorance and generally made things as hard as possible for me and the other women. Didn’t you ever wonder why I let you get away with it so often lately?”
“Krel, no. I was too busy being confused. You had me so that I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I couldn’t figure out what you were going to do next. You weren’t acting like a man in your position would.”
Riana nipped a shoulder blade with sharp, white teeth and drummed her fingers on his hips. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a man.”
“Oh, I noticed all right. That’s what caused half the problems.”
She lifted one brow. “Only half?” Riana flexed her fingers and gave a slow, wicked grin. “Surrender?”
“Only to you.”
About the Author
Alvania Scarborough is compulsively interested in a wide variety of topics, from space, history and ghosts to the Old West. She loves writing about strong, sexy men and the women who are their equals. She is delighted for the opportunity to share her stories.
Alvania welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Alvania Scarborough
Tapestry of the Past
Thief’s Punishment
Print books by Alvania Scarborough
Tapestry of the Past
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