Hearing a noise behind her and fearing it might be the Var harem guard, she slipped around a corner to hide. Almost instantly, she crashed into a warm, firm chest. Ulyssa jerked back in surprise, just as two strong hands clamped her arms like a vice.
“Relax,” a man said. The rich sound sent chills down her spine, erupting beneath her flesh in sensitive spurts of longing. Every inch of her tingled. She fought for breath. The man chuckled, a seductively low sound, and asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”
Ulyssa jolted to her senses and turned around with a defiant scowl. Her mouth opened, ready to do battle with whatever manner of creature dared to stop her. As her gaze met two dark, very curious eyes, she froze. Her heart nearly stopped beating in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Desire, hot and liquid, shot over her at the sight of the handsome man who held her. Never had her body reacted with such fierce awareness, enough to be struck both deaf and dumb.
Dark stubble shadowed the man’s chiseled jaw, matching the long black hair that spilled down over his broad shoulders. He was perfectly built, not too broad and not too thin. Even motionless, she could tell he’d move with the liquid grace of his kind. There was something slow and seductive in the way the Var carried themselves, like hunters crouched, ready to attack, stalking their prey. She’d seen the athletic quality in all of the warriors, but never did the prospect of being their prey excite her until that very moment.
Black leather bands with silver studs gripped tightly to his biceps and wrists. His shirt appeared to be one piece of material with two narrow straps over the shoulders. It was held together by black cross lacing beneath his arms, leaving his sides and waist exposed.
She felt dizzy. Torrid images swirled in her head. He didn’t wear the tunic of the guards, so she wasn’t worried about him arresting her and dragging her back to King Attor. In fact, she wasn’t worried about anything at all for the moment. Unbidden, her eyes continued down, over his frame. He didn’t move to stop her, didn’t shake her arm to get her attention. Unconscious of the action, she licked her lips, suddenly famished for male attention.
His pants were of the same material as the shirt, soft, yet molding to his firm, delicious body. A belt matched the armband, clinging around his narrow waist. More cross lacing reached from the knee, over the outside length of his thighs, leaving no indentation of muscle to the imagination, as it revealed tanned flesh all the way up his hip. She flexed her fingers, itching to reach forward, to dip beneath the material to feel him.
A low rumbling sound broke into Ulyssa’s thoughts. She blinked in surprise, having nearly forgotten where she was and what she’d been doing. Before she could think to protest, her captor pulled her forward into his muscled chest and pressed her back against the wall.
The stone along her spine was cold, making a strange contrast to the burning heat of him along her thin frame. She gasped, feeling trapped by his body. His thick arousal grew between them, unmistakable in its desire. The pressure sparked a very liquid reaction inside her loins. Her nipples puckered firmly against her shirt, tingling as her hastened breath caused them to rub along his chest. Ulyssa shivered, her head screaming to fight and run. She couldn’t move. A euphoric trance held her in its web, drowning out reason.
“When a woman looks at a man with that much invitation, who is he to deny her?” he said in a low, rumbling tone. Passion made his words sound hoarse. Warm breath fanned over her cheek, causing her to shiver in anticipation.
The man boldly moved against her, and Ulyssa felt the all too real press of his desire rocking gently into her hip. She felt his heat on her breasts, further budding her nipples into hard, beckoning points. As she looked up into his deep-set eyes, eyes that swirled with amber flecks within the darkened sea of brown-black, she knew she was in trouble.
Prince Kirill tried to take a deep breath in a vain effort to make his body pull away from the soft woman he held trapped against the wall. He couldn’t make his limbs obey. Every nerve screamed at him to continue. His body was stiff with the stress of many days. It had been a long while since he’d had a woman, even longer since he’d had a woman as lovely as this creature before him.
She had yet to speak with words. But what she didn’t say with her voice, she more than screamed with her wide, blue eyes, eyes that were dark, eyes that sparkled with the stars of deep space. He could see how a man could easily get lost in her gaze. She was the most beautiful vision he’d ever seen. His whole length trembled, ready to answer the primitive call of her body to his.
Her hair was a peculiar shade of blonde and red, pulled back from her face into a bun that rested neatly above the long nape of her neck. He itched to pull the locks free, but he held back. Glancing down over her toned body, he growled in pleasure.
A thought flickered in his head as he wondered who she was, what she was doing alone walking unescorted in his section of the palace. As her lips parted, the thought fled, and he didn’t care. He needed to release the tension from his body, the throbbing ache in his loins. His heart pumped rapidly in his chest, swirling lust into every limb. He was ready to claim her. It would be easy to pin her to the wall and have his way with her right there in the empty hallway. He would too if she’d but allow him. The women of the harem could wait.
Suddenly, reason returned to him. “Are you one of King Attor’s?”
The woman blinked, looking momentarily stunned. She slowly shook her head in denial. In a low, throaty tone, she whispered, “No.”
Kirill groaned, feeling the moist heat of her desire radiating from her thighs. He believed her. She wasn’t dressed like the harem women. Her eyes dipped to his mouth just as her tongue edged along her bottom lip in invitation. He pushed his body more firmly against her. Letting her feel the full length of his arousal, he rocked his hips, grinding along her clothing. A slow, seductive smile curled on his mouth as he invited her to his kiss with the simple lifting of his jaw. To his great pleasure, she leaned in, accepting his offered mouth without hesitation. Her lips were warm, soft, and when she tilted them in offering she moaned ever so lightly.
Ulyssa saw him move, his confident mouth curling up in masculine invitation. His strong, male scent drew her in, tempting her senses, teasing her desires. Without thought, she leaned forward to kiss him, drawn to discover if he tasted as good as he looked. Her lips parted. Her fingers ran up the side of his stubbly cheeks to pull him closer. His long hair was like silk as it brushed the back of her hands.
Not once did she stop to think that he was a stranger to her, that he wasn’t even all human. At the moment, she didn’t care. He was solid and real and so very hot. It had been so long since she knew a fraction of the longing she now felt in the madness of his arms. And, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she wanted to see just how wild the Var cats were in the bedroom. With their grace and natural prowess, she just bet they made worthy lovers.
She heard a soft, feminine sigh and realized it came from her lips. Startled, she pulled back just as his velvet tongue was about to delve inside her mouth. The brief touch sent a shockwave through her so intense that she leaned forward to accept it.
He pulled back, a question in his gaze, as he tasted her on his mouth. His pleasant expression faded into a slight frown. Holding her at arm’s length, he asked, very seriously, “You drank nef, did you not? Quite a bit of it if your glazed eyes are any indication.”
“Nef?” Ulyssa repeated, trying to squirm past his hold, wanting to be back against his firm body. She pressed her ear to her shoulders, wondering if the translator was broken.
A slight frown of disgust came to the man, as he easily slipped into her language, “Try to concentrate, human. You did belong to the king. You were one of his.”
Ulyssa blinked, trying to understand his low words. His change of language didn’t help her confusion. Why was he holding her away from him? What happened? Her heart pounded in her head, fueling her desire tenfold. She shivered uncontrollably. Her body was wet, read
y, pulsing with fierce abandon. “No, I don’t belong to anyone, only myself.”
Again she tried to lean forward and again he held her back, gripping her shoulders firmly in his strong hands. Ulyssa gave a throaty moan. She glanced over his body to his lean hips. His arousal pressed strongly against the confines of his pants. In a trance, she reached to touch it.
The man chuckled, artfully avoiding contact with her searching palm. As if to himself, he mused, “If I didn’t smell the unmistakable scent of human on you, I’d have sworn you were a rare Var female. You’re bold and assertive.”
Ulyssa blinked, wondering at the comment and the approval she detected in it.
“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get you out of here. It’s obvious you don’t know what you’ve done. I would lecture you about drinking that which you are unfamiliar with, but I don’t think you’d be able to understand me right now anyway.”
Ulyssa again blinked in confusion. Why was he talking? She looked down her body. Did she smell bad or something? Was he married? What happened to make him stop? She frowned. Was it just her or were her breasts swollen and tingling? She looked down at them and was sure they looked larger than normal. Humming softly, she cupped her breasts in her palms, feeling the instant gratification of the caress. A small sound of wonder escaped her, and she suddenly felt dizzy, as she tweaked her nipples.
The man groaned, leaning over to pull her hands down. “Ah, you do drive a man to distraction, don’t you, human?”
Ulyssa turned to glare at him. He chuckled to see her look.
“What is your name, human?” he asked.
“Ulyssa,” she slurred without thought, turning back to contemplate her achy breasts. A finger dipped beneath her chin, drawing her attention back up to the dark eyes. She sighed prettily, simpering like a fool and not caring.
“Lyssa, I’m Kirill. I’m going to take you to a different part of the castle to sleep off the effects of the drink you took. Do you understand?”
Ulyssa frowned at his condescending tone. Her eyes narrowed in disgust, before getting distracted by his mouth.
Kirill laughed softly. “I am sorry, little one, but you will just have to miss the pairing tonight. You’re in no condition to choose a bedmate.”
Ulyssa snorted, not paying attention to him.
Kirill frowned and glanced around the empty hall as if struggling with a decision. Finally, taking her by her arm, he walked her down the hallway, away from the harem. He didn’t look at her again as he led her through the long halls, winding around turns until she was completely lost. Ulyssa didn’t care. She couldn’t stop staring at his face, as she simpered like a witless maid.
5
“What a nightmare,” Ulyssa grumbled, stretching her arms over her head. Satin sheets cocooned her body, gliding over her naked flesh in a tickling caress. For a moment, she smiled and arched her back at the feel of luxurious comfort. An unfamiliar wave of contentment washed over her.
Suddenly, she froze in mid-stretch. The relaxation in her body was replaced by a slow building of stress in her limbs. Her eyes popped open and moved around in her head. She was naked, in a strange bed, in a strange stone room. This wasn’t a good sign.
Ulyssa shot up, sitting on the bed. The large bedroom had a smooth stone floor with woven rugs. She could tell that, like everything else in the Var palace, great attention had been paid to the detail of their making. Staying true to style, the large marble fireplace was carved to perfection and sported a comfortable fire. The bed, covered in dark blue satin sheets and a matching blue and silver coverlet, dominated the floor. Seeing the two arched doorways leading from the room, one with a door and one without, she frowned.
“Where the hell am I?”
Ulyssa threw the covers from her body and edged to the side of the bed. Her bare feet dropped down on the floor. Walking to the entrance that had no door, she peeked in. It was a long closet, filled with nothing but clothes cut to fit a man. A flash of a sinfully dark gaze came to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Think, Ulyssa, reason it out.”
Lyssa.
The name was an echo in her head. She shivered, recalling a deep, rich, Var accented voice. She knew it wasn’t King Attor. Had she slept with the bearer of that voice? Surely if she had, she would have done so with a plan of escape. She could remember no plan, but she could recall every detail of a firm body next to hers in the hallway, grinding and pressing her into the wall. Hell, she’d been ready to screw his brains out right there. Why hadn’t she? It wasn’t like she was shy.
Ulyssa frowned, wrinkling her brow in deep thought. The night unfolded slowly in her mind, foggy yet real. She’d escaped the harem. A man found her. She’d come on to him with no thought of escape.
Ulyssa grimaced but was not embarrassed by her actions. She’d wanted him and had gone for him, no big deal. Then, he’d rejected her. She scowled, stuck on the memory. He’d rejected her? Now, how was that possible? That never happened.
“Nothing happened,” she whispered, not sure if she felt relief or irritation. Her pride stung at the memory, but she tried her best to ignore it. Lightly, she scratched her naked backside as she went in to explore his enormous closet. It was bigger than her assigned quarters on the Agency ship. Rubbing the back of her neck, she continued to frown. “He brought me back here. I took off my own clothes and made a pass at him. He then left me here, alone, unfulfilled. Huh. What the hell was that all about?”
A long, rectangular window commanded the far wall of the closet, letting in the soft light from outside. She could see a balcony beyond the window with stone and iron railings along the edge. The dusky green-blue sky spread out before her, and she realized the bedroom was high off the ground. A majestic display of forest and mountains stretched before her. She could even see a clear lake tapering off into the distance. Its glassy surface reflected the three suns.
Ulyssa was stunned into momentary silence at the awe-inspiring sight. There was something quite magical about the Var palace, something that stirred a suppressed part of her being. She thought it best not to explore that part of her soul. Some things were better left hidden.
A quick scan of the rooms proved he’d taken her clothes with him when he left. She searched the closet for something decent to wear and found a cross-laced shirt, like the one the man had worn the night before. The shirt was too big for her smaller frame, but she didn’t care.
Not hampered by the technical fact that she was stealing, Ulyssa slipped the garment over her head and adjusted it to fit her smaller size, pulling the laces tight. She did the same with a pair of pants, lacing them up along her thighs. Using the extra length of cross-laces, she made a makeshift belt around her waist. Then, finding a floor length jacket with long sleeves, she pulled it on. There was no way she’d get into his boots, so she didn’t even try, opting to remain barefoot for the moment.
“Not bad,” she murmured, admiring herself in a mirror as she unbound her hair only to pull it back again. She found it easier to work if it was out of her way.
Walking through the bedroom, she slowly opened the second door and peeked out. The light was dim after the brightness of the bedroom fireplace. Slowly, she closed the door and edged forward. From what she could tell, it looked like a living room, complete with a couch and chairs, and more arched entryways leading to various parts of the house.
“Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” she whispered, a little too spitefully. Whoever the man was, his rejection stung, and she reacted to it. “Are you in here, you little furball?”
She waited and received no answer. Squinting to see now that the bedroom light didn’t shine behind her, she crept through the living room. As she passed one of the decorative arches, she saw a long kitchen and dining area. She ignored it, going instead to the arch with a door. Thinking it led outside, she pushed it open. Instead, she found a large bathroom. A rectangular mosaic tub took up the far wall with many waterspouts coming from the sides. Next to it was perha
ps the biggest water shower she’d ever seen. Well, she’d never actually seen one, but the Agency did have pictures in case they ever encountered one on a mission. Through the textured glass, she detected a bench seat.
“Hum,” Ulyssa mused with an irritated glance around the room. “Maybe I’m looking too high. I’m sure there has to be a little cat door around here somewhere. Come here, little kitty. Where are you hiding?”
Kirill watched the door to his bedroom open. He’d been sitting in the dark, trying to relieve the stress headache that had built behind his eyes for the last week. The pain started at the base of his skull and radiated up to his temples until he could hardly see straight.
A heavy responsibility had been thrust on his shoulders, a responsibility he really hadn’t prepared himself for, the welfare of the Var people. King Attor had not left him in a good position. He’d rallied the people to the brink of war, convinced them that the Draig were their enemy, and even went so far as to attack the Draig royal family.
Kirill wanted to see peace in the land. However, he knew the facts didn’t bode well for it. The Draig had a long list of grievances against King Attor and the Var kingdom.
Before his death, the king had ordered an attack on the four Draig princes, all of which ended horribly for the Var. The worst was when Prince Yusef was stabbed in the back, a most cowardly embarrassment for the Var guard who did it. If he hadn’t been executed in the Draig prisons, he would’ve been ostracized from the Var community. Luckily, Prince Yusef survived or they’d already be at battle.
Attor had also arranged for the kidnapping of Yusef’s new bride. The Draig Princess Olena had been rescued, or that too would’ve led to war. The old king had even tried to poison Princess Morrigan, the future Draig queen, on two separate occasions. She too lived. And those were only a few of the offenses Kirill knew about in the few weeks before King Attor’s death. He could just imagine what he didn’t know.
The Savage King Page 3