by Mel Teshco
Lusting the Enemy
Mel Teshco
Akeisha is on a mission to be chosen as part of a harem for the desert king, Judas. She’ll use her body to entice and beguile, do anything it takes to save the near-extinct larakytes, her shape-shifting silver panther tribe, from Judas’ human subjects, who are trying to eradicate them.
She never expects to succumb to the wild ecstasy in his arms, a pleasure that threatens to expose her inner cat even as it transcends anything she’s ever felt from one of her own kind.
Falling in love with a human enemy was never part of the plan, but maybe there’s more to Judas than meets the eye.
Lusting the Enemy
Mel Teshco
Chapter One
Akeisha Turayne swiped the sheen of sweat from her brow, wrinkling her nose at the stale, jasmine-perfumed oil that no longer masked the sweat of too many women—forty-seven, to be exact—milling around the holding ground of the royal palace as though cattle at auction.
The sun beat down, blazing hot and unmindful of her and the women who wanted only to look their best, to look beautiful, delicate and fresh-faced for their ruler, the great Zaneean king, Judas Mahskam.
Soon enough he’d cast his shrewd gaze upon them, each and every one of whom hoped against hope to be the chosen one. Akeisha’s pulse spiked. She forgot the heat, the sweat and the flies for just a moment as delicious, nervous anticipation built within.
She’d been told many times in her twenty-one years she was blessed with great beauty. And now…at last, she had the chance to use it to her advantage, to play the genetic card she’d been dealt.
A breeze abruptly picked up, swirling rank body odors through the air. And as a trio of trumpeters stepped up onto a podium and blew out notes to herald the king’s arrival, she swiped a lock of long silver hair from her eyes with unsteady hands.
Judas was finally here, ready to choose for his harem, if any of the females were agreeable to him. A hush fell over the women, one or two letting loose a nervous giggle as their king and potential lover stood on the dais above.
Akeisha shivered, despite the heat. She’d seen him in many paintings and drawings, but in person he was magnificent. Though not handsome in the classic sense with his squared, jutting chin, his beaked nose and full, almost feminine lips that seemed permanently pressed into a hard line, he oozed charisma and power.
Raven dark hair brushed his shoulders, outlining his fierce expression as his gaze took everything…everyone in. Tall and muscular, he was even more imposing high above them.
An excitement and desperate need to be noticed, to be selected, rippled through the women. For many, failing to meet their king’s expectations today meant going back to a life of squalor. For Akeisha, it was far worse.
She lifted her chin. She had no choice. She had to succeed. The survival of her people depended on her.
Judas didn’t speak as his dark brown, almost black stare rested on them one at a time. When his stare moved to Akeisha, she didn’t drop her eyes in a show of subservience as the other women had done. She’d always been headstrong, she could only hope he appreciated that trait.
If he chose her he wouldn’t be getting an obedient lapdog. He’d be getting fire and passion right alongside a desperate solemnity from a circumstance that even now sucked at her soul.
Her chin tilted higher as his stare abruptly dropped, perusing her near naked body in its twin strips of diaphanous white cloth that all the women had been forced to wear.
One horizontal strip barely covered her breasts, the cloth ends tied at her back. The number nineteen had been painted in black across the cloth along her breasts as her identity. A wider strip of cloth hung low on her hips, draping just beneath her ass cheeks and the folds of her pussy.
The sweat had rendered the sheer garment completely transparent and her breasts hardened beneath his scrutiny, her nipples tightening into buds. Her cunt clenched, heat pulsing deep in her womb.
When he snared her gaze, his eyes flared, his expression growing fierce as something all too primal sizzled between them.
She had his full attention now. She needed to keep it.
Her skin prickling with arousal, she held his burning stare as she untied her top and let it flutter to the sandy ground. The silence was almost deafening. Her hands trembled as she untied the knotted cloth ends at her hips, and as the last piece of cloth tumbled to her bare feet, the women around her hissed their outraged disbelief.
She ignored them, her focus all on the king.
Even from a distance she could see the wanton glow of his eyes. Then his lips twisted in a fleeting grin before his stare moved onto the next woman.
She’d lost him.
Damn it. Failure flooded through her. She had to be the chosen one. She had to be the one to get under his skin, to make him desire her like none other. There was no other way to be able to change his mindset on a number of issues that affected a small population of people on the verge of extinction. The larakytes. Outcasts. And the very last of the shape shifter tribes.
Her people.
She’d not fail them a second time.
The king finished examining number forty-seven and stepped back from the podium, his face inscrutable and hard. He turned to the captain of his guard and conferred for a few moments.
The captain nodded and then stepped forward. “The king has chosen.” He swept his hand toward the palace’s huge, lichen-covered rock wall, where two slaves pulled open heavy double doors. “You may all wait inside.” He cleared his throat, his narrowed, assessing eyes moving back to her. “Except number nineteen.”
She stilled, then nodded acknowledgement. Her hands curled into fists as exhilaration and fear clawed in her gut.
The captain pointed to a much smaller, single door farther along, where a eunuch, distinguishable in his loincloth and pierced nipples, stood guard. “Congratulations. You will enter the hallowed rooms of the king. You will be prepared for his pleasure.”
Adrenaline pumped excitement and heat through her veins, even as she almost swooned with relief.
She didn’t bother retrieving the pieces of cloth underfoot, didn’t bother turning to the couple of women bold enough to mutter their jealous venom. She inwardly shrugged. She’d made some enemies for life by disrobing for the king. In many of the women’s eyes, she’d cheated. In her mind she’d used her brain, showing off an apparently near perfect body that, in her short lifetime, had attracted more than her fair share of advances.
Now at last her physicality was an asset—a godsend instead of a curse—to be flaunted for a greater purpose.
The eunuch’s forearms bulged with muscle as he straightened his heavy, poison-tipped spear and stepped aside. But she was aware of his approving stare as she crossed the threshold and entered the most exquisite room she’d ever seen.
White pillars soared upward into a domed glass ceiling. Silk hangings softened the stone walls, where the naked flames of wall sconces flickered dimly. Huge oil paintings in gold-leaf frames showed hunting scenes in different seasons, for even the desert kingdom where Judas reigned supreme had its different times of year.
On the marble floor, huge rugs in vibrant colors set off the dozen or more red velvet chairs with turned legs scattered throughout the room. On circular rosewood tables, crystal vases overflowed with rare crimson roses and white baby’s breath.
A rustle of fabric had her spin around to face a middle-aged, slender woman approaching through a side door. The elder woman’s expression was neutral, as understated as her long brunette hair that was peppered with silver and pulled back into a tight coil. Her cool blue stare brushed over Akeisha’s nakedness without comment. She nodded in greeting and said brusquely, “My name is Fontaine. You will follow
me.”
They passed statues and long sofas. Big arched windows overlooked green, manicured gardens that fought off the barren landscape beyond a great wall of rock, where snowy-white sand shimmered as far as the eye could see before merging into faraway crested dunes.
Her gaze lingered. Far beyond that, invisible to human eyes or otherwise, the Scantia forest, rumored to be haunted according to the superstitious people of Judas’ kingdom, kept her people safe.
Until recently.
Though outside it was desert hot, inside the palace a chill settled over her as though an invisible fog. She tore her gaze away from the windows and rubbed some warmth into her bare arms as she followed Fontaine into a small, cozy room where hundreds of candles blazed brightly.
Three female cotesh—unmistakably servants to the king by their long, white-and-gold tuktuk robes tied just above their breasts—waited expectantly. They moved forward with clucking tongues and critical, appraising eyes.
“I will leave you now,” Fontaine addressed, voice carefully bland, “and return once you’re suitably prepared for the king. Then I will show you to the mandeolo.”
Shock jolted down her spine as reality fully hit. The mandeolo was the bedroom of the king. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Hard. Soon she’d be seduced by the great Judas himself. Soon her plan to save her people would begin.
Her eyelids flicked apart at the sound of one of the cotesh servants unknotting her tuktuk. Akeisha couldn’t help but stare at the older woman’s hairless body and taut, muscular build. For a human, the woman was amazingly buff and unselfconscious.
She’d heard the king surrounded himself only with servants who could fight and protect the court, and it appeared the gossip was true. Weak subjects weren’t tolerated in the palace unless they had other uses—such as healing hands or educators of the mind.
Little wonder Judas was such a respected and powerful leader.
The servant took her hand and led her into the warm pool. Akeisha quickly surrendered to the woman’s deft hands as she began to wash her hair and lather soap into her skin. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about what was ahead with Judas, but her pulse jerked erratically, her throat drying.
The king was renowned for his sexual appetites. And as she alone had been chosen, he’d soon be directing his lustful needs all her way.
What, you’d prefer to be shared with other women?
She’d heard the rumors. Well, not rumors per se. A king was expected to fuck whoever took his fancy and Judas was legendary for his insatiable appetites. He apparently often took as many as five or six women in one night. And why wouldn’t he? If a maiden was lucky enough to feel even one stroke of his cock, she was considered very blessed indeed.
Akeisha wondered what the king would say if he knew she had far bigger plans in mind than becoming his next temporary mistress, let alone being one of many.
One of the other cotesh women stood on the pool’s top step and held a towel aloft, motioning for Akeisha to wade from the water. Stepping out, she obediently lifted her arms as the woman rubbed her briskly, paying particular attention to her breasts, the fine fuzz of hair on her pussy.
As the woman slid the thick, silken towel between her pussy lips, Akeisha let out an unsteady breath, clenching her jaw and cutting off a throaty cat growl forming at the base of her throat.
Despite her formidable will, over-stimulation could well set off an involuntary part-shift. Keeping her inner beast at bay and her secret safe was vital if she wanted to stay alive. She closed her eyes. It was more than just her life at stake now.
She was next directed to lie on a fur on the floor and she nodded consent, doing as they asked. She lay back and tried to relax. The next few hours the discomfort from the waxing and plucking of her body would rebuff any further arousal.
Thank god.
Because soon she’d be thoroughly seduced by Judas and she’d need every ounce of her strength of will to keep her inner, big cat at bay.
A shiver raced up and down her spine, anxiety and lust in equal measure. To be taken by the king—the concept was almost too incredible to be believed. He was unarguably the finest leader of all time, a warrior and an intellect all in one, tough but just in his rulings.
Most of his rulings.
* * * * *
Judas stepped into his private mandeolo quarters he’d ordered prepared. He barely noticed the hundreds of magnolia-scented candles glowing in the darkened room, where thick drapes had been pulled over the windows. Barely heard the discreet throb of a stringed jae and the accompanying beat of a pak pak from the room next door.
Music intended for seduction.
It was an unnecessary touch. He was already all too conscious of the fire burning hot in his loins, the aching heaviness of his balls. The damn rakkia robe that flowed from one shoulder and fell to mid-thigh did little to hide his arousal. His cinched belt, with the sheathed sword jostling on one hip and the double fighting rods on the other, served only to draw focus to his cock that had taken on a mind all of its own.
Damn. What had that chit done to him? Even the gold links on his forearms felt overly tight, his entire body taut with need.
But then, he’d never expected to find a girl even halfway as beautiful as the silver-blonde siren staring up at him amongst the chattel in the holding yard—let alone one with her kind of surreal magnificence that bespoke of the shape-shifting blood running through her veins.
The way she’d held his stare and challenged him had stirred something deep within even before she’d disrobed and bared her amazing body. And he’d known well before he’d forced his gaze to the other women that he wanted her and only her. Wanted to duel with her, tame the wildness within…well, just a little.
He’d had more than enough of subservient women.
His cock jerked. Christ. If he were truly honest it had become imperative that he fuck her, to fill her cunt with the full, hard length of his shaft as she begged him for release.
But as king he’d first had to take care of the trivial, mind-numbing matters that were his lot in life as king, all of which had taken far too many hours. Hours in which his every thought had centered on the she-cat masquerading as a pure-blooded human, and who waited for him even now.
The royal lineage had access to records and knowledge few others did. Even without such information he knew exactly how the nearly extinct shifter—a larakyte—would look in human form. Hair and irises hued with silver, body tall, slender and graceful. Hell, even the way they carried themselves with an almost unworldly inherent grace and poise revealed their true ancestry.
She’d managed the almost impossible feat of hiding her true-self from the jealous, all-seeing eyes of the women in the holding yard. And with luck she would continue the façade—at least until he’d decided what was to be done with her.
Though she’d done a brilliant job so far of keeping her inner beast at bay, he couldn’t risk her staying for more than a night or two at most. She was young, inexperienced at the art of shielding. He had little choice but to escort her back to her people before anyone discovered her identity and hurt her…or worse.
His jaw tightened. She couldn’t stay, no matter how much he might wish otherwise. The vast majority of his people were hell bent on seeing all shifters dead. Worse were those in his ranks who pretended to be sympathizers, mortals who’d risk their own lives to kill a larakyte—any shifter—to free the world from a species who were a rung above humans.
He shook his head, shoulders growing tight with anger and frustration.
Fools.
* * * * *
Akeisha’s senses went into overdrive the moment Judas entered the huge room. She didn’t need to catch a glimpse of him beyond the light of the candles, not when her every cell buzzed with adrenaline, her larakyte needs shifting into high gear at his close proximity.
Damn. What was wrong with her? She could understand it if a potential mate had come within range and heightened her mating instincts
, but the king was no larakyte. He was human royalty, a Zaneean, born and bred.
Yes, but he’s all male.
Though his sandaled footsteps barely whispered across the marble floor, she knew exactly where he was even before he emerged between the throng of candles either side, the background music somehow heightening his magnificence.
God, he truly was charismatic and…dangerous. And so tall and honed she wondered that he could move with such fluidity and grace.
He was every inch a king.
She swallowed, feeling dwarfed and even a little inadequate sitting cross-legged on the bed of large, feather-stuffed and tasseled cushions. She’d been dressed by the cotesh servants in the traditional rakkia cloth of loose fitting pants and shimmering bra-top favored by many of the more modern Zaneean women.
Inclining her head just a fraction, she murmured huskily, “Your Majesty.”
His fierce expression didn’t relent one bit with the stark need etched into every crevice of his face. All the anxieties and needs she felt pulsing within only increased tenfold when he toed off his sandals, dropped his sword and double fighting rods to the floor, followed closely by his rakkia robe.
Sweet mother have mercy.
Lust hit deep in her womb and flashed as if la heat wave through her veins. The king’s body could have been sculpted by the finest artist. His was a lean and broad-shouldered warrior’s body, all hard angles and rippling planes. And his cock…
The tip of her tongue edged out and slid along her lower lip. Judas’ eyes followed the movement and his stare burned hotter still before he stepped toward her, wholly, shamelessly naked and aroused.
He sank to his knees as though he was about to worship her. In reality any maiden would have been on their knees, worshipping him. He reached out a hand and cupped her chin, his lashes sweeping half-mast over his eyes. “I’ve never seen such flawless beauty as yours,” he murmured throatily.
Somehow his voice, as much as his words, left her shivering with yearning, akin to the drizzling of warmed brandy over beaten cream, decadent and a little harmful, but it left one craving for so much more. “I…thank you, Your Majesty.”