Kresley Cole - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Aggression ruled them both—each trying to get the upper hand, rolling over again and again.

He was all for her riding him like a horse if she wanted—later. Right now he needed her hands pinned above her head, her thighs spread to cradle him, her eyes gazing up at his. So he shoved her beneath him, wedging his hips solidly between her legs.

At last, she surrendered to him, but not before those little claws scored down his back. He threw back his head, roaring with satisfaction. She made him wild, frenzied for her. With each of her cries, he fell deeper under her spell. How’d I ever live without this?

But then came a trickle of unease. Never had he been so crazed for a female. He comprehended his life would never be the same if he continued tonight. A daunting thought for any male. Yet when he gazed down at her, Garreth knew he had to have her no matter what.

With that in mind, he reached down, using his fore claw to slice the crotch of her shorts. As he shoved the material to her waist, he clumsily fumbled his jeans to his knees.

Her panties were black and sleek—sexy as hell. He hooked his fingers into the material, about to tear them off her, but she grabbed his wrist. “Don’t!”

“Canna wait, waited so long…” My cock’s about to go off . He wanted it to— inside her . Needed to pump his semen deep into her womb as he marked her as his own forever.

She shook her head, her expression growing panicked. “I can’t! They… they stay on.”

Confusion. —Seduce her. —

So he bent down between her legs and kissed her through the damp silk of her panties. She gasped, but her gasp turned to a moan when he licked, nipped, and nuzzled in bliss. Once she was helplessly undulating her hips to his mouth for more, he again tried to rid her of her panties.

“Wait!” she cried.

With a growl, he covered her body with his own, wrapping her hair around his fist. “Lousha, I have to have you. I’ll bring you pleasure, make you come till you scream.” He punctuated his words with a rock of his hips.

When his cock rubbed over her silk-covered sex, her eyes went wide. “Oh… oh !”

“You’re about tae, are you no’?”

She nodded up at him. “I think…. I don’t know—”

You’ll know. He’d make her. He bucked against her.

“Ah! Don’t stop that! Please….”

“This?”

“Yes, there! Ah, yes!” Her head thrashed on the ground. “Just don’t stop!”

“Will no’. I may come atop you—but I will no’ stop.” He ground against her, struggling to hold his seed. He was on the verge, spasms already beginning in his swollen shaft, the head moist.

Lightning struck a tree directly beside them—she didn’t notice and he forgot when he saw her lost expression, her silver eyes…. Ah, gods, she’s coming. “Yes, Lousha!” Bucking furiously, pants at his knees, he grew desperate to shove into her, to feel her clenching around him. “Come hard for me….”

She screamed, her knees falling open as she pressed those big breasts into his chest. As his hips pumped over her, she dug her claws into his back, holding him tight to her.

Mine! Now you’re mine…. He leaned down to her ear. “You’ve maddened me for you, have changed everything.” Reaching between them, clutching her panties, he rasped, “So I’m going to fuck you long and hard, beauty, because if I’m to be enslaved by you—I want to be your master as well.”

He yanked free her silk, and the head of his cock slipped against the slick folds, soaked from her orgasm. His eyes rolled back in his head just as she screamed, “No!”

She shoved against his chest. “No, don’t!” It was as if he’d doused her with ice water, her passion evaporating in a rush. “I can’t do this!”

“The hell you say!”

She continued scrambling from him. “Let me go!”

— She knows fear. — Though his cock was about to explode, throbbing so hard it felt like it’d been slammed in a door, he finally let her up. His bollocks were heavy, aching with seed.

“I don’t want this… didn’t want it.”

He’d been a thrust away from claiming his mate… “You dinna want it?” He shot to his feet, dragging on his jeans. When he tried to zip them over his swollen shaft, lust turned to anger and frustration such as he’d never known. “Then why were you riding my crotch like a wanton as you sucked my tongue?”

She gasped, trying to put her clothes to rights, darting for her bow and quiver. Once she’d collected her weapons, both of their gazes fell on the black panties he’d ripped free. She reached forward, but he snatched them from her, stuffing them in his pocket.

She blinked in confusion, backing away.

“Doona walk away,” he growled. “You think I will no’ follow?”

“You don’t understand!”

Her eyes are… haunted? “Then make me understand! Is it because of what I am?”

“If you try to follow me, I–I’ll hate you forever.”

Damn it! What was happening here? She looked like she was about to flee for her life.

Suddenly thoughts of his cousin Bowen’s tragic history arose in his mind. Deadened Bowen was a cautionary tale to all Lykae males of what happened when a mate—who was other —ran.

Bowen’s female had perished as she’d fled from him, dying gruesomely.

Cold fear suffused Garreth at the thought of Lucia hurt. He inhaled sharply, wrestling for control, even as he watched what he coveted most in the world slipping from his grasp.

What just happened? How?

Lucia had almost been… unchaste, about to lose her purity—and therefore her abilities—right before the Accession!

One misstep had nearly cost Lucia her powers. Because Skathi hadn’t gifted her with anything. Lucia’s archery skills were on loan—and conditional.

How close she’d been. How close…

Yet even now her body was still thrumming for his touch—for more.

Lucia made it really simple for herself. The Accession meant Cruach. Succumbing to this Lykae meant no archery. She’d be defenseless if the Broken Bloody One escaped his prison and returned for her. Returned to make me pay…

Whatever MacRieve saw in her expression had him backing away with his palms raised. “There, lass. Doona be afraid. You’ve nothing to fear from me.”

She knew her eyes were wild, her heart racing with dread. “I–I’m not afraid of you!” I’m afraid of him— afraid of being trapped back in his corpse-ridden lair. She put the back of her hand against her mouth as she retched.

Lucia, I gave you meat and wine….

“Now, Valkyrie, just wait. I dinna mean to upset you.” MacRieve absently swiped a hand over his still-engorged shaft, as if it pained him—even now her body responded to the sight.

“If you’re bent on leaving, then meet me here this weekend,” he said tightly, as if this was a great concession. “Saturday at noon, we’ll return. That’ll give us both time to cool off, to think about this.”

His offer did surprise her. “I… I don’t know.” He’d told her that she wasn’t his mate, but she thought he’d lied since his reaction had been so fierce. Now she began to believe again, because otherwise he’d have been thumping his chest and snarling, “Mine!” as he slung her over his shoulder. “All right. I agree to it,” she lied, feeling something she hadn’t in a long time with a male. Five hundred years to be exact.

Terror.

There was no rain in the bayou Saturday night. Only quiet.

Garreth had been waiting here since quarter past ten this morning. He’d risen at dawn, too anxious to remain abed, and begun to get ready. He’d intended to take care with his dress, to present himself as a male of worth, like the leader that he was. Not like the hard-drinking, foulmouthed brawler Lucia likely thought him.