by Milly Taiden
She shook her head. “Not anymore. Now it’s all you.”
13
The club was massive. It was on the roof of one of the Palladia’s classiest hotels. The building easily rivaled the ones in Vegas, or like she told Jag, the exclusiveness of Dubai.
The inside was all glass and what looked like stainless steel. Very sleek and modern. Clean lines. Almost the antithesis to the desert and the colorful market and sandstone buildings of the oldest part of the city.
The atmosphere of modern and antique didn’t seem out of place at all, in fact, it blended beautifully. Chills ran down her spine at the sheer size, and she shivered. “This place is off the chain! It’s perfect,” Riley said, slightly awestruck.
“Do you know what’s perfect? You in that dress.” Jag smirked. “Or you out of that dress.” He took her mouth, kissing her softly. “I love how it hugs your curves and how I’m the only one who knows you’re commando underneath.”
Her eyes widened, and her fingers flew to his lips, pressing them shut. “Ssh! I have panties in my purse, if you don’t stop advertising what we just did, I’ll put them on and bar your easy access.”
He grinned, nipping the tips of her fingers. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, really.” She unclipped the top of her clutch and a piece of white caught her eyes. Reaching inside she pulled out a small, folded note. She must have missed it in her post-sex haze when she shoved a clean pair of undies in just for fun.
It was a note from Henley. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just Henley being Henley.” She went to stuff the note back in her purse, but he snagged it first.
“Oops.” He chuckled, reading it. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t. Ha. Too late. Then again, who knows what she and Damen do during their strategy planning sessions.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Riley laughed as Jag motioned to the club’s manager and the man waved them toward the VIP lounge. “I know. I mean, how hard is it to do a seating chart for the coronation?”
“Well, in that sense, planning can be tricky. I mean, sometimes it’s good to be royalty,” he said as the manager led them up the stairs from the main VIP lounge to a private box with the perfect view of the dance floor and a fully stocked bar. “Other times, a wrong move can mean political suicide. A slight, even one a regular person might think insignificant, might cause an incident that affects trade routes or treaties, etc. So, yeah. Planning like that is strategic.”
Riley looked at him with a smirk. “And Henley’s the one to help navigate that kind of diplomacy, right?”
“Point taken.” He laughed, pulling her close. He kissed the end of her nose. “Maybe she’s Damen’s stress relief.”
She snorted. “Sex as stress relief? Who’da thunk?”
The manager cleared his throat, and Jag looked past Riley’s shoulder. “That’s all, Dawson. Just make sure the back entrance is keycard ready in case we want the dance floor. I don’t want to trek through the main lounge unless my lady here wants to people watch.”
Riley balked, hiding her face in Jag’s shoulder. “Spoiled much?” she mumbled into his shirt.
“Very good, Your Highness. Will there be anything else?” Dawson asked.
Jag nodded with a grin. “Two bottles of chilled Sidaii to start.”
“Snacks, Jag.” Riley lifted her head just enough. “I’m starving.”
He chuckled even more. “And bring up a tray of cheese, fruit, and sweet rolls. We’re hungry.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.” The man left without a quick bow and didn’t say another word.
Jag stepped back and steered Riley to the railing overlooking the club. “We’ve got our own private perch. We can eat and drink, dance and whatever right here. No one will bother us.”
“Well, I’m not sure about the whatever part. To be honest, I’m surprised I can still walk.” The words left her mouth even as she blushed. “But the eat, drink, and dance part sounds great.”
Jag went to the bar to open the wine. Riley checked her look in the mirrored wall behind the black couch. She still couldn’t believe she looked this good. Her dress seemed to glow in the club lights. She’d done herself up old Hollywood style. Her curls swept back over one ear, held with an ornate gold comb as spirals cascaded past her shoulders. She’d gone with bold makeup. A dark, smoky eye, long full lashes and more of that red lipstick Jag seemed to love. Confidence filled her chest, something she rarely felt. Who needed sheer veils to advertise hot to trot? Not her.
“Since this is your new favorite drink, I plan to have it stocked at the palace from now on and order it flowing from the fountains for the wedding.” He winked, carrying two large flutes to where she stood. “What do you think about that?”
She took one of the glasses and lifted it to her lips, taking a sip. “I think it’s a fabulous idea, but then again, it’s not my wedding. Ivy might have other ideas.”
He ran a hand over her bare arm, letting his thumb graze her breast through the silky fabric. Butterflies rebelled in her stomach, and her clit throbbed almost like a leftover aftershock from before. She drained the rest of her glass.
“I’m not still making you nervous, Riley, am I?” he asked softly.
She looked at him, but then shoved her empty glass his way. “Nope.”
“Liquid courage?” He laughed.
Her hand moved to her stomach and she flashed a sheepish grin. “Cut me a little slack, will ya? I’m out with the hottest man on the planet who just fucked my brains out. I’m a little out of my element, so yeah. Liquid courage.”
Leaning in, he kissed her cheek as he took the glass from her hand, whispering, “And I plan to fuck you again and again.”
Holy shit. She closed her eyes, squealing on the inside. A soft knock on the door stifled her inner happy dance. Jag opened the door for the waiter and the food.
The man put the tray on the low table in front of the couch and then turned. A simple nod from Jag was all it took, and the dude slipped out, handing Jag some kind of keycard before closing the door behind him.
“What was that?” Riley asked.
Jag walked back, holding the metallic rectangle between his fingers. “The private keycard I asked for earlier. This way we don’t have to wade through the lower lounges.”
“Oh,” she said, standing a little awkwardly.
He shoved the card into his pocket and then took her by the hand, steering her toward the food and the couches. “You said you were starving. I’ve had dinner with you before, Riley. One of the things I like most about you is that you and your friends aren’t afraid to eat.” He grinned, sliding a hand around to cup her ass. “That and many other things. Gorgeous, full, soft, luscious things.”
Hmmph. “And here I thought you liked me for my quiet strength and sense of humor.” She smirked.
“That, too.” He slapped her butt. “Now sit and let me watch those luscious lips of yours wrap around those juicy strawberries and anything else you want so I can fantasize about what you’ll have in your mouth later.”
She sat on the edge of the couch as Jag went to get more wine. He walked back with the bottle, and it wasn’t long before it was empty and the next one as well.
14
Wanna dance?” she asked with a half giggle, half burp before plopping a couple grapes into her mouth.
He watched her angle her head and flash him a tipsy smile. “You’re drunk again,” he teased.
“Nope. Not even close.” Chewing, she shook her head. “Just feeling a little bit wild.” She leaned in and nipped his bottom lip.
He kissed her quickly before she drew blood, letting his fingers trail the deep plunge of her dress to the cleft between her generous breasts. “Wild, huh. Got a little excess energy to burn?”
“Maybe,” she teased. “But not the kind of burn you’re looking to ignite, mister.”
He tweaked her nipple and then sat back with a smirk. “And he
re I thought you were a sure thing.”
“I am, but right now, I want to shake what my mama gave me.” She ran a hand over his arm and flashed him a seductive smile. “Come dance with me now, and I promise you’ll get to come later.” Her hand dropped from his arm to his lap, and she ran a thumb over his crotch.
“Okay, little mouse, but keep some of that energy, because you’ll be shaking that ass all over my cock after.” He lifted her fingers from his lap and kissed her tips. “Deal?”
She pulled her hand back and saluted. “Deal.”
“Okay then. Let’s get jiggy with it.” He moved to stand, but Riley burst out laughing. “What?” he asked, confused.
“So, you’re the ‘Fresh’ Prince, now? Vander mentioned your time on Earth turned you into a college boy, but I thought he’d been exaggerating,” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.
He shook his head. “Funny. I think I liked you better when I made you nervous.”
“Aw, c’mon. I think it’s adorable you watch 90s sitcoms and think they’re cool.”
Without warning, he pulled her to standing and dipped her back, kissing her hard and deep until she gasped. Letting her up slowly, he let his lips linger. “Adorable?” he asked.
She sucked in a breath. “Not the adjective that comes to mind right now.
The club’s flickering lights and loud pumping music guided their way. Bodies moved in a throng, sweat gleaming and hips grinding to the pulsing beat. Riley pulled him into the mix, her body swaying in time with the music. She turned with a grin to the middle of the dance floor and slipped her arms loosely around his neck.
“You’re crazy, little mouse, we can barely move it’s so crowded. Not that I mind your sexy wiggle against my junk.” He grinned.
She ground her hips for effect and then turned in his arms with a laugh. She leaned her back against his chest, and they moved in time, sexy and slow as he slipped his hands around her waist.
“Every woman in this club wants to be me right now,” she murmured as he leaned down to kiss her ear. “Pea green.”
He nipped her lobe. “I could say the same for every guy in the place, because I’ve got me a sex-crazed mouse who likes to nibble my man parts.”
A grin spread across her lips and she twirled out of his arms, staying within reach. Her body moved, swaying seductively and her eyes locked with his. Even curvy girls could dance, and the one thing she had was moves. Lifting her hands under her hair, she played and teased, letting her fingers travel from her neck to the plunge between her breasts.
Jag licked his lips. Riley was never one for public displays. Ever. Yet, she was in the middle of the dance floor fucking him with her eyes, daring, with a sensuality he hadn’t seen outside of their private time together.
She smiled, teasing him with blood-red fuck me lips, giving him a look that sent blood to his cock turning it rock hard. His eyes combed her lush curvy body, wanting to fuck her there and then if she crooked her little finger.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the scent of someone else’s attention. Not a woman watching him, but another man watching Riley. Oh, fuck no. Not tonight. Not ever.
With two steps, Jag swung Riley into his arms, but her laughing smile faded at the look on his face. “What? What’s happening?”
“It’s not you, babe. Just one too many eyes looking at you like something to eat.” His gaze tracked to the source and his frown deepened.
She followed his line of sight and then looked back at him confused. “Sharan? He’s no one to get so upset about. He’s some liaison or rep or something from the sand ocean.”
Jag’s eyes flew to hers, disbelieving. “You know Sharan Dul?” He said the man’s name as if it tasted bad in his mouth.
Still swaying to the music, Riley stopped at his tone. “I wouldn’t say I know him. More like bumped into him at the palace. Literally. I was rushing to Ivy’s when I crashed into him. I nearly knocked him over.”
Jag pressed his lips together. “Yeah, well. From the way he’s looking at you now, I bet he wishes he could knock you over. Onto your back.”
“Jag Kasaval. You’re jealous,” she said with a slow smirk.
He snorted but tightened his grip on her waist. “Is that what this is? The feeling’s alien to me.” His eyes found hers, and the intensity of the emotion sent his xenos into a rage, nearly forcing a shift. “I suppose I never cared enough before to give a damn who played predator to my prey.”
“Is that all I am? Prey?” she asked, watching his face.
He shook his head, slipping his hand to the back of hers. “No. You are so much more than that. I told you, this isn’t a game.”
He wanted her now. More than ever. His lion roared to claim her. To settle it forever. Riley was his. HIS. He wanted—no, he needed her now. Jag growled low in his throat and her eyes widened at the proprietary sound. She hadn’t taken her eyes from his despite her sudden uncertainty.
“Did you just growl?” she asked.
He nodded. “It’s a shifter thing.” He held himself taut, waiting. She was his, but something made him pause. Too many women wanted him for his position, his body, but none made him feel the way Riley did.
She shivered in his arms and Jag inhaled, trying to deduce if it was fear or something else. A small smile tugged at his lips. Riley was aroused. Very aroused. The wine, the dancing and now a glimpse of his raw animal power left her dripping for him. But it had to be more than just physical. He could fuck anyone, but with Riley he wanted more. Demanded more.
Riley threw her arms around his neck, her breasts pressing tightly against his chest. He could feel her nipples through his dress shirt.
“Jag.” Her voice was low and full of need.
He inhaled her scent again. His mate. There was no question in his mind. “Ri—” he began, but she moaned against his throat.
She lifted her face, her tongue darting to lick his bottom lip. “Yes?”
“I have an idea,” he muttered as she nibbled her way over his jaw.
She sighed. “I do, too. Take me to see the oasis. Ivy said it’s amazing.”
Riley licked her lips as she waited for him to say something, except her scent and the sight of her pink tongue drove all thought from his head except her spread wet and wide.
“Uhm, where?” he croaked, desperately trying to concentrate on her words.
She pressed closer to him and brushed her lips to his. “The oasis. I bet there’s no one there this time of night.”
“Babe, is this the Sidaii talking?” he asked. “Do you honestly want to get on a camel and ride out into the desert?”
“Nope, not the wine.” She pressed her lips into his again, only this time, she slid her tongue into his mouth. “I want to skinny dip in the spring and then watch the sun come up over the desert with you. It’s always you, Jag. It’s only been you.”
Wait, what? Had he missed a beat? Did she just say what he hoped? “What do you mean only me?” His words were tentative, questioning, even as his inner xenos clawed at his belly, pacing. It was Riley. Only Riley. From the first time he saw her in the throne room that night. And that she felt the same nearly sent his animal into a frenzy. He needed to claim her. Have her. Possess her body and soul.
“I want you, you sexy fresh prince,” she said with a tipsy smile. “And not just for one night.” Her eyes stayed on his. “I want more. I always did. I don’t do public and I don’t do casual. Maybe it is the wine, and I’ll probably want to crawl into a hole for opening my big mouth, but—” She shrugged.
Now she was the adorable one. He picked her up and swung her around, his lips taking hers. He would claim her, and the oasis was the perfect spot. “Okay, then. Riley wants an oasis. So be it.” He laughed, breaking their kiss.
“Yay! But we take snacks and more sparkling Sidaii.” She hiccupped, but then looked at him. “Don’t hold what I just said against me, ‘cuz I’ll plead the fifth.” She giggled. “The fifth bottle of wine.”
He grinned before taking her around the waist to steer her toward the exit. This small, curvy woman made him laugh. She made his body quake with desire and she made his chest hurt thinking she might go back to Earth. She was the one. The only one for him. Wine or not, her telling him she felt the same way made him want to roar. To set his xenos free and race the desert wind across the sands.
She hiccupped again, wobbling on her feet even with him holding her arm.
“That’s it,” he said and swept her up, throwing her over his shoulder. “You want shifter caveman, well, you got it, baby. Let’s do this.”
15
Why didn’t you tell me riding this beast was like straddling a small summit?” Riley slid off the camel and arched her back, bending her butt and thighs to get the blood flowing. “My lady parts feel like they road piggyback on Quasimodo’s hump.”
Jag tied the camels to a palm tree, grinning as he watched Riley’s antics. “I told you to move with the sway of the animal. Camels aren’t horses. Their gait is totally different, and it takes getting used to.”
“Yeah? Tell that to my ass.” She winced, rubbing her butt.
He laughed. “Your ass is just fine. A soak in the hot spring will make all your thoughts drift to something much more pleasurable.” He moved to rub her shoulders, placing a kiss on the back of her neck.
She angled her head, giving him total access, but voices pulled their attention. Jag tensed, moving quickly to push her behind him for safety.
“Royal Highness?” a man asked, coming from the shadows.
Jag squinted in the darkness. “Ranat? Is that you?”
The man walked from the cover of palms into the moonlight, and Jag’s mouth spread in a grin. “What are you doing here?” Jag said, walking to take the man’s hand.
Ranat met him halfway. “I could ask the same for you, but seeing your lovely friend, there’s no need.”
“I thought your clan would have made camp at the foot of the mountains by now.” Jag turned, motioning for Riley to come. “This is Riley Parks. She is one of the queen’s friends from Earth.”