by Angel Payne
Not easing the confusion: the way he pulled me over to the leather couch, making me sit down next to him.
“Maybe it should have a companion piece, then.”
The confusion cleared. It had no choice about the matter, making room for how I now felt the pound of my heartbeat through every cell in my skull. The cadence made its way into my chest as he lowered to the floor in front of me, dropping to one knee—
And holding up a ring that blew my damn socks off.
Okay, my pumps.
Oh, hell. Whatever!
My mouth dropped open. It was…incredible. Beyond incredible. A tourmaline stone, at least a couple of carats, surrounded by diamonds shaped like wings. Despite the honking size of the thing, the gold band was fashioned to look delicate, a braided alloy filigree.
“I have been in meetings with key High Council members all morning.” His voice emulated his face, ebullience mixed with pride. “They have given me their support for the revisions to the Distinct selection codes. As soon as the Council takes a final vote in three months, the laws will be officially changed.” He leaned in, aligning the ring with the tip of my right ring finger. In accordance with Arcadian tradition, the ring wouldn’t move to my left hand until—
Oh, God.
Until our wedding day.
I bit my lip like a dorky kid. Just thinking about it made my senses swim—in all the best ways.
Somehow, Evrest didn’t get that. He kept the ring hovered there, over my fingertip, until I finally peered up at him, perplexed again—to find him watching me, seeming awed and breathless himself. When I intensified my stare, silently urging him on, he finally spoke.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” I laughed it out as he finally, finally, slid the ring on fully. The second he did, I twined my arms around his neck, welcoming his lips on my own, his moan through my senses, and his tongue, at last claiming my mouth with heated possession. I opened for him. Sighed for him. Surrendered for him. Anything he wanted. Everything he needed. Let me be it for you. Give it to you.
If ever I was certain the man could read my thoughts, it was now. His growl, pure and primal, answered my words with a message of his own. You are, sevette. And you will. Oh yes, you will.
“Fuck.” His utterance startled. I was barely aware we weren’t really kissing anymore. His hands could be blamed for part of that phenomenon. Pawing beneath my clothes then clawing at my skin, they were the wolf in his hottest, hungriest form. I writhed and whimpered, accepting the scrapes, needing his unique brands across my most tender skin.
“Ahhh!”
His fingers, one then two, found my core.
Especially that tender skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He jabbed my skirt to my waist in a pair of urgent shoves. “I just proposed. I am supposed to order champagne, bring you a rose, kiss you with rom—”
He choked into silence as I scooted forward—to palm the huge ridge beneath his pants.
“Do you want that, My Majesty?”
I rasped it against his Adam’s Apple on purpose. It drove him crazy, evidenced by his consuming shiver. He wasn’t the only one going nuts. The naughtiness of gazing at him in his corporate finery, knowing what I was doing to him underneath…
Oh, hell yes.
“I am yours, Evrest Cimarron. Just for now, let this ring around my finger act as your collar of ownership. What do you want to do with me? How do you want to play? With champagne and roses? I can certainly do—”
He cut me off with a roar, mostly muted to the rest of the palais because he shot it into my mouth, practically punishing me with the assault of his lips, teeth, tongue. By the time he set me free again, he’d torn one side of my panties, pushed the rest halfway down the other thigh, and began working on my wettest petals with one hell of a demanding thumb.
“I shall play with you with my cock, little douleé. And you shall let me.”
I let my thighs fall open for him, arching in the way I knew he loved, exposing more of my intimacy for him. “Yes, My Majesty.” His gaze flared as my sex unfolded for his full, unfettered view.
“By the Creator.” His grate was finished by the scrape of his zipper. “Look what you do to me.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I actually licked my lips at the sight of his erect bronze flesh against the black of his suit, drops of shiny milk dotting the swollen head before dripping across my own glistening arousal. I gasped with their scalding impact.
“Clean them up,” Evrest ordered. He fisted himself, rubbing in slow anticipation. “With your finger. Wipe the drops off your pussy, then lick them.”
Hell. Maybe that ring was as magical as the pendant it matched. We’d been having some great sex but mostly in the crazy-new-positions department—not to mention Evrest’s desire to make sure I “toured” every room in this place with his special seal on the deal. Not since he’d popped his cherry with me, that first night in the tent, had he gotten this wicked with the ol’ missionary.
I adored him for it.
I loved him for it.
I let him see the force of that love in my eyes despite gliding my finger into my mouth with the sensual seduction of a porn star. His brilliant eyes flared. His hand pumped faster at his cock. Perfect. He might have just put a down payment on the cow, but I wanted him to know the milk was always going to be this hot. And lusting. And wanting…him. Always, only, him.
“Holy fuck. My sexy sevette.”
I slid the finger out. “Always.” After that, I traced my touch down my chin, over my pendant, into my cleavage…then waited, yearning for him to read my mind again. Tell me to expose my tits. Order me to play with them for you. I’d never get tired of that one. Ever.
With a shit-eating grin, he shook his head. “No. Keep going. Slide that wet finger into your pussy. Roll it there. Tease your clit for me. Let me see.”
Maybe that was better than playing with my nipples. Just a little.
Or a lot.
As he watched me, he returned the favor. I stared at his long fingers, working at his penis in long, captivating strokes. Holy hell, he was magnificent, even with the rest of his body still clothed—maybe because of it. If demigods were a real thing, I’d just gotten engaged to one. Luckiest. Girl. Alive. I vowed then and there that we’d never make a sex tape. If it was ever leaked, every Hollywood producer would be on the next plane to Sancti, contract in hand. It had already been rough enough, confronting the ten “spurned” Distincts after he outted us on Minos Beach that day.
My body began to throb. Pulse. Strain. Sensation mounted beneath my finger, torrid and tingling, demanding I let it out. Deeper inside, my walls clenched, primeval vibrations turning into screams of need, begging for the fill they usually received at this point.
“Camellia…hang on tight, my love. I need to do this hard.”
Thank the Creator.
One stroke and he was all the way in, his length invading, pushing, flowing…crowding so much inside my body that my mind tumbled into the surrender of it, too. The surrender to him. Breathing him in. Tasting his flesh. Becoming his plaything. Being his lover.
I toppled fast now. I told him so with my panting moans in his ear, my clawing grip in his hair. It all just made him pound harder. He knew I loved it like this, taking me like he couldn’t get enough of me.
Because I sure as hell couldn’t get enough of him.
Even when I was exploding around him.
“Evrest!”
He grunted, cupping my ass to fit my body tighter to his. “Yes?”
“Yes!”
I screamed it about twenty more times—or maybe it was two hundred; counting was difficult when one’s senses were shattered—before he finally slowed, bringing us both back to earth with gentler thrusts and soft kisses.
Just before his phone rang.
Reality. Yay. Not.
With a naughty smirk and his body still encased in mine, he reached into his jacket pocket to answer the call. Ridiculous as it wa
s, I blushed clear to the thigh he caressed with his free hand.
“Syn, What is it?” he barked. Shit. Much deeper blush. Did it have to be his brother, of all people? “What I am up to is none of your damn business. Do you have progress for me or not?” He nodded tightly. “All right. I am on my way.”
I smiled in heartfelt empathy as he pulled with a grimace of apology. “Duty calls. Has Samsyn learned something new about Chianna?”
His face was blank—once more on purpose. “No. It is something else. Nothing to be concerned about, but nothing I can speak of.”
“All right.” I tidied my clothes. “I understand, betranli.”
He turned back with a smile like a tethered sunbeam. My heart leaped. Score. Such little things tickled him, like my learning the Arcadian word for fiancé. I longed to learn all those idiosyncrasies about him—and be with him to create a lot more of them, too, private ones for just the two of us.
“Dinner underground tonight?” He said it with a wink while giving his tie a corrective yank.
Things like that.
I twirled my ruined panties on a finger. “Yes, please.”
“Lose those.”
I giggled. “That’s a given.”
“I mean before dinner tonight, as well.”
“That can be arranged, too.”
He stopped and turned just short of the door out to the hall. “Now that I think about it, just dismiss the fact that you have panties.”
“Permanently?”
“Permanently.”
One long stare at the command in his face, and pure, illicit delight took its turn at tugging up my lips. “Okay.”
“And sevette?”
I stood for him. Tried to be demure and classy about it as I could. Note to self: ask Novah how one behaves like a queen when all they want to do is jump their king’s bones. “Yes, My Majesty?”
“Do not be late. The days are shorter now…and the nights longer.”
I only had three emphatic words in response.
“Thank. The. Creator.”
*
Thank you for coming along on Evrest and Cam’s story!
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About USA Today Bestseller Angel Payne…
USA Today bestselling author Angel Payne is the creator of several popular romance series, including the WILD Boys of Special Forces, the Secrets of Stone (co-authored with Victoria Blue), and the Cimarron Saga. Angel began writing passionately in high school, and moved on to pen her way to departmental honors for English at Chapman University in Southern California, as well as popular historical romances in the 1990’s under a different pseudonym. Her kaleidoscope of a past includes gigs as a fashion ramp model, music industry production assistant, nightclub disc jockey, and over twenty years in the meeting planning and hospitality industries. Her passions include pop culture, alt rock, super heroes, shoes, coffee, and enjoying an active life in the outdoors with family and friends. She still lives in Southern California with her gorgeous daughter and stud-man husband.
www.angelpayne.com
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Want more of the Cimarrons?
Pre-Order link available soon for
Into His Command
Samsyn and Brooke’s story
Coming Summer 2015
OTHER WORKS BY USA TODAY BESTSELLER ANGEL PAYNE:
The W.I.L.D.
(Warriors Intense in Love & Domination) Boys of Special Forces series:
Book 1: Saved By His Submissive
Book 2: Handcuffed By Her Hero
Book 3: Surrendering To Her Sergeant
Book 4: A WILDer Wonderland: Sexy Stories of the Season
Book 5: Wet For Her Warriors
Book 6: Hot For His Hostage
Book 6.5: A WILDer Kind of Love – Summer 2015
Book 7: Secrets From Her Sirs – Fall 2015
THE SECRETS OF STONE SERIES
Written with Amazon Bestseller Victoria Blue
Book 1: No Prince Charming
Book 2: No More Masquerade
Book 3: No Perfect Princess
Release Date: March 31, 2015
PRE-ORDER HERE
AND COMING SOON
From New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller SHAYLA BLACK…
HIS TO TAKE
A Wicked Lovers Novel
Racing against time, NSA Agent Joaquin Muñoz is searching for a little girl who vanished twenty years ago with a dangerous secret. Since Bailey Benson fits the profile, Joaquin abducts the beauty and whisks her to the safety of Club Dominion—before anyone can silence her for good.
At first, Bailey is terrified, but when her captor demands information about her past, she’s stunned. Are her horrific visions actually distant memories that imperil all she holds dear? Confined with Joaquin in a place that echoes with moans and breathes passion, he proves himself a fierce protector, as well as a sensual Master who’s slowly crawling deeper in her head…and heart. But giving in to him might be the most delicious danger of all.
Because Bailey soon learns that her past isn’t the only mystery. Joaquin has a secret of his own—a burning vengeance in his soul. The exposed truth leaves her vulnerable and wondering how much about the man she loves is a lie, how much more is at risk than her heart. And if she can trust him to protect her long enough to learn the truth.
Sneak-Peek Excerpt
“…What about you? You’re with another government agency, so you’re here to… what? Be my lover? Does Uncle Sam think you need to crawl between my legs in order to watch over me?”
Joaquin ground his jaw. She was hitting low, and the logical part of him understood that she was hurt, so she was lashing out at the messenger because she didn’t have anyone else. But that didn’t stop his temper from getting swept up in her cyclone of emotion. “I’m not here on anyone’s orders. In fact, I’ll probably be fired for pursuing this case because Tatiana Aslanov isn’t on my boss’s radar. When it became obvious the agency intended to do nothing, I couldn’t leave you to that horrific death. So here we are. But let me clue you in, baby girl. Uncle Sam doesn’t tell me who to fuck. I can’t fake an erection, even for the sake of God and country. That kiss we almost shared? That was me wanting you because just being in the same room with you makes me want to strip off everything you’re wearing and impale you with every inch I’ve got.”
When he eased closer to Bailey, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Don’t come near me.”
That defiance made him wish again that he was a spanking kind of guy. He’d really like to melt that starch in her spine. If she wasn’t going to let him comfort her, he’d be more than happy to adjust her attitude with a good smack or ten on her ass, then follow it up with a thorough fucking. A nice handful of orgasms would do them both a world of good.
“I am so done with people lying to me,” she ground out.
That pissed him off. “You think I’m lying to you? About which part? Your parents being agents? That I’m sorry? Or that my cock is aching to fill your little pussy until you dig your nails into my back and wail out in pleasure?”
Her face turned pink. “You’re not sorry about any of this. I’m also not buying your sudden desire bullshit.”
“I will be more than happy to prove you wrong right now.” He reached for the button of his jeans. “I’m ready if you are.”
In some distant corner of his brain, Joaquin realized that combating her hurt with challenge wasn’t going over well. On the other hand, something about arguing with her while he’d been imagining her
underneath him hadn’t gotten his blood just flowing, but boiling. If fucking her would, in any way, prove to her that he wasn’t lying, he was beyond down with getting busy. If she let him, he’d give it to her hard and wicked—repeatedly.
“No!” She managed to look indignant, but her cheeks had gone rosy. The pulse at her neck was pounding. Her nipples poked at her borrowed shirt angrily.
He put his hands on his hips. If she looked down, she’d see his straining zipper. “Do you still think I’m lying?”
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“If you’re telling yourself you don’t want me at all, then you’re the one lying.”
“Pfft. You might know facts about me on paper, but you don’t know me.”
“So if I touched your pussy right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”
He’d always liked a good challenge. It was probably one of the reasons he loved his job. But facing off with her this way made his blood sing, too.
“No.” She shook her head a bit too emphatically. “And you’re not touching me to find out. Leave me alone.”
“You’re worried that I’d find you juicy. You’re afraid to admit that I turn you on.” He stalked closer, his footfalls heavy, his eyes narrowing in on her.
“Stay back,” she warned—but her eyes said something else entirely.
“Tell me you’re not attracted to me.” He reached out, his strike fast as a snake’s, and gripped her arms. He dragged her closer, fitting her lithe little body against him and holding in a groan when she brushed over his cock. “Tell me you want me to stop. Remember, you don’t like liars. I don’t, either.”
She didn’t say a word, struggled a bit for show. Mostly, she parted her lips and panted. Her cheeks heated an even deeper rose. Her chest heaved. Never once did she look away from him. “I’m involved with someone else.”
“If you think whatever you’ve got going with Blane is going to stop me . . .” He didn’t bother to finish his sentence; he just laughed.