A Warlord's Lady by Nicola E. Sheridan Read Free Book Online Page B

and, dare I say, my heart convinced me it was right.
    Without moving his mouth from mine, the Warlord’s searching hands slipped up my sides and discreetly loosened the ribbon that held the wrap closed. The silk, smooth as it was, slipped from my shoulders and fell to the floor like liquid. He caught my gasp in his mouth and soothed me with his hands, stroking my back, my hair, my bum. Yet instead of soothing, his hands seemed to arouse me even further. They dusted my body with exquisite sensations and left me weak-kneed and wanting. I didn’t fight when he scooped me into his arms and walked back from the balcony toward the mosquito-netted bed. I couldn’t have fought even if I’d wanted to, which I’ll confess here and now, I certainly didn’t.
    I lay back on the mauve linen of the bed; the air was warm and sultry, and swiftly replaced by the hot length of the Warlord’s body over mine. Was it magic he used? I had the sense to wonder, if only for a moment, but swiftly discarded the thought and relegated control to my body rather than my mind.
    My hands roved over the Warlord’s back, and he nestled between my legs, strong and wanting. He was still fully clothed, and I found this absurdly irritating. The soft cotton of his tee-shirt seemed abrasive against my naked skin, and I could feel him strain beneath the confines of his zipped-up jeans. A need so great it was crippling swallowed me, and I found my own hands tugging and tearing at his cotton shirt with a strength I didn’t know I possessed. I wanted to be an animal, to tear off his clothes and goad him into taking me, as brutally or as gently as he cared.
    Unsurprisingly perhaps, my wishes were shortly answered. His kisses became more frantic, his hands more demanding. They slipped between our bodies and found me wet and desperately wanting. I cried out at his touch and, with a final jerk, I tore the remainder of his shirt away. He sunk onto me, chest to breast. I groaned, feeling the heat from the divinely sculpted planes of his body crush against me. I opened my eyes to see his heavy-lidded gaze on me intently. There may have been a question in their depths, a question I didn’t need to answer, because in a shimmer of magic the barrier of his jeans was gone.
    I felt faint as the warm, large part of him nestled closely to my most intimate parts. I wanted this so badly I could scarcely breathe. I knew my skin was a riot of colour; I could feel the electric spasms of my cells shifting and changing, and saw it reflected in the darkness of his eyes. It was all the consent he needed.
    With a grunt I was suddenly impaled. I was gloriously, outrageously filled by him. The thick heat of him nearly brought me to tears for the sheer pleasure of it. I rocked beneath him, goading him further and faster. The Warlord obliged me, as I later learned he would always oblige me in such things.
    Even now, I do not know how long I spent in bed with him that day. Hours were meaningless; I wanted nothing but his touch and he gave it without reserve. I know you must all think such terrible thoughts of me, because for a long time I thought them about myself. For the next six months of my captivity I couldn’t refuse him, and didn’t want to. A love slave in the truest form, I felt I could survive on his sex alone. It was only when I realised there were others that my brain finally took control. The man who spent hours in my bed, sating and pleasuring me, had a harem of other women — all ready and willing to perform the duties I so readily and joyfully did. I confess to you now, it was jealousy that made me find my brain, my consciousness, again. I found this truth so painful that even though I still melted into his every embrace, and allowed him liberties with my body I still blush to admit — secretly, I began to plan an escape.

Chapter 5
    Cain shook his head without a word. With a gentle utterance beneath his breath, Sabra jerked and suddenly found herself enveloped in a snug