Overlords Chosen, page 6
part #1 of Dark Destinies Series
His dark, captivating voice caressed her, reaching inside and filling the raging emptiness she’d felt for so long. Tears of need spilled over her cheeks, and he pulled back to gaze into her eyes, worry thinning his lips.
Nearly painful desire clawed through her. She pulled at his shoulders, trying to draw him closer. The concern ebbed from his face as he realized what she wanted. Snaring her hands, he pinned them to the mattress above her head.
He withdrew almost entirely, and she whimpered with the loss. Her whimper turned to a cry when he plunged into her again.
“Ye-ess,” she sighed as he lodged himself as deeply as possible. “More.”
He filled her with long, deliberate thrusts. His face was a mask of grimacing absorption as he drove into her over and over. All his concentration directed at her sent breathless shivers racing through her, and she doubted she’d live long enough to escape.
With his free hand, he stroked her thigh urging it around his waist. She followed suit with her other leg, shuddering as the angle of contact changed. Locking her ankles at the small of his back, she groaned his name, finally understanding everything her sister had ever told her.
Her pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain. He released her hands and slipped his arm beneath her hips, fitting her more tightly against him. She clung to him with sheer desperation, her nails gouging his shoulders. He was the only security in her present reality.
“Mine,” he growled.
He’d barely finished speaking when she contracted around him, rippling, squeezing him. Straining against him, she met him thrust for thrust, even as he pounded faster, driving her into the bed. The coil of need deep in her belly tightened. A sensation stronger than anything she’d ever felt shimmered through her, danced along her limbs and burst like stars behind her eyes.
Micah lost himself in the exquisiteness that was Elizabeth. Her body milked him, gripping him so fiercely he had trouble moving. But he pushed on, drowning in the drugging sensation of the woman he’d wanted for so long. Unable to hold back completion, he stiffened, a guttural cry ripped from his throat. For a moment, black spots clouded his vision as he released his seed in thick, fierce spurts.
She arched against him, crying out as he filled her. The shudders that racked their bodies slowed as he collapsed atop her. He took long, steadying breaths while her quivers quieted to sporadic trembling.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered half to herself.
He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that curved his lips as he smoothed her damp hair from her forehead. “Are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” She smiled weakly. “I think I might be dead.”
Micah threw back his head and laughed. Perhaps the guardians had chosen well, after all. He kissed her, and she smiled against his lips.
He turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps. Asher. Sweat beaded on the man’s brow and a vein throbbed in the side of his head. He crossed the room, walking as only a man with a raging erection could walk.
“Give me the damn cloth,” he ground out. “I must return to the temple.”
Micah grinned, not feeling the least bit sorry for his friend’s pathetic state. He knew that as soon as Asher had fulfilled his duties and taken care of the fabric, he’d find relief with one of the willing consorts. Perhaps more than one.
Micah eased his semi-erect length out of Elizabeth. Eyes closed, she whimpered at the loss and reached for him. He lifted her in his arms and stepped to the floor. Cradling her to his chest, he realized just how long it had been since he’d felt any kind of peace. It was more than the sex. It was Elizabeth. Before he could question it, Asher pushed past him, jerked the fabric off the bed and stalked toward the fireplace. Stone ground against stone as he activated the passage that led directly to the temple.
He paused. “Will there be anything else, milord?” he asked testily.
Micah gazed at the woman in his arms. “See that we’re not disturbed.”
Chapter Four
Micah couldn’t blame Asher for his foul mood. If he’d gotten a taste of Elizabeth’s sweet charms then had to walk away without sampling her completely, he’d be bitter too. Bitter and in need of pummeling someone.
Her stomach growled, and she shifted in his arms.
How long had it been since she’d eaten? Annoyed with his lack of foresight and consideration, he set her on the bed. “I’ll send for food.”
“Thank you,” she said on a yawn.
After pulling on his breeches, he lifted the bar from the door to the main hallway and summoned a servant. Elizabeth watched him with sleepy eyes from where she lay in his bed. He’d seen plenty of women in his bed over the years, but never one who’d looked as if she belonged there. Uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts had taken, he turned from her and busied himself stoking the fire.
By the time the man returned with a plate of apples, bread and cheese, Elizabeth had fallen asleep. Placing the platter on the table next to the bed, Micah crawled in beside her. In her sleep, she moved closer to him, likely seeking warmth. He could give that—physical warmth anyway.
He pulled her chilled body into his arms and curled around her. A soft snore broke the silence, and he smiled looking at the woman who slept so soundly in his arms. He hadn’t realized just how tiny she was. When she was awake, her presence filled the room. Filled him.
Delicate and slight, she seemed fragile next to his bulk. She was, he supposed. He could crush her with very little effort. The thought constricted his chest.
She sighed and nestled closer to him nuzzling his neck, her breath soft puffs against his skin. She was so pale compared to him—purest porcelain. What would their child look like? It was the first time he’d considered their issue would be more than just his heir. He’d be a person in his own right. Micah rested his hand on Elizabeth’s stomach. She was so soft and warm. It was easy to picture her heavy with his child. How long would it take her to breed?
Her autumn-colored hair spread across his pillow like so many windswept leaves. For a moment, he buried his nose in the soft strands. She smelled of the forest and sex. It was the most intoxicating scent he’d ever encountered.
He ran a fingertip over her swollen lips remembering her face as she found release. He hardened again at the memory but forced himself to ignore his body’s response. Even if she hadn’t been sore when they’d finished, she’d likely be by the time she woke.
Guilt prodded him. He hadn’t meant to fuck her so hard. Not the first time, anyway. They’d have plenty of time to explore one another’s bodies in the years to come, yet he’d rutted on her as if it would be the only time.
He pulled Elizabeth closer, taunted by the thought of her running away from him. No, that wouldn’t happen. She knew now that she needn’t fear him. He pushed the worry from his mind and gave in to the lure of sleep.
* * * *
Elizabeth navigated the dimly lit hallways, trying to remember the way to the courtyard. Since she’d been upside down and disoriented when she’d last been there, it was difficult.
Clinging to the shadows, she pulled Micah’s cloak tighter to her body. She’d also taken one of his shirts. The hem hung to her calves. It wasn’t the best solution to her lack of clothing, but it would have to do. She felt badly about taking them, but he’d destroyed her dress. She wasn’t about to sneak from the keep completely naked.
Her heart pounded in her throat as a shadowed figure passed the alcove she’d ducked into. The person didn’t appear to be in a hurry, so she assumed her disappearance hadn’t been noticed. Yet. She wondered what Micah would do when he discovered she’d gone.
For the briefest of moments, she considered going back to him. Shaking her head at her lunacy, she pushed away the guilt. What was she? The village idiot? He’d taken her against her will. Well, taken her from her home against her will. He’d certainly had her permission to take her body. Just like he’d promised, she’d begged him to fuck her.
Heat flooded her at the memory of the things he’d done to her—the things he and Asher had done to her. She couldn’t honestly say she regretted the experience. No, she didn’t regret it all. If she were to stay, she suspected Micah could easily make her a slave to her own pleasure.
Sighing, she hoped he still slept. He’d appeared so beautiful against the light bedding, almost as if he’d been carved from stone. She’d fought the urge to kiss him goodbye. She couldn’t risk waking him or losing this chance at escape. So she’d crept past the dozing guard and begun searching for a way out.
Remorse elbowed her as she imagined Micah waking alone, but she ignored it. It wasn’t as though he was in love with her. And she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine herself in love with him.
Once Asher figured out who and what she was, her fate would be sealed. Micah’s brother’s mates had been put to death because they hadn’t been able to conceive. Her offence would be the possession of magic. Inevitably, the women in this position died a terrible death for something beyond their control. Elizabeth refused to become another sacrifice on the overlord’s altar. With a blush, she realized she’d already played that part tonight.
Peering from the alcove, she checked the hallway. Empty. She darted across and rounded the corner. The night sky was visible through the arched windows. She must be close. One more corner, and she’d be at the doorway.
If she could make it through the courtyard undetected, she might have a chance to leave the compound. Earlier that afternoon, she’d seen a couple vanish through a door on the opposite wall from where Micah had humiliated her.
Her bottom no longer ached, but the twinge between her legs throbbed. What she wouldn’t give for a bath, but there wasn’t time for trivialities. There also hadn’t been time to make love with Micah again, and she’d desperately wanted that. Of course, she couldn’t classify it as making love. There was no love between them. She pushed down a pang of sadness. Even if she’d stayed, there would never be love between them. Especially if Micah discovered her secret. Then there would only be death.
Hers.
Edging through the open doorway, she couldn’t keep her thoughts off him. She sighed. The only reason he played so heavily in her thoughts tonight was because he’d taken her virginity. It had to happen sooner or later. It didn’t mean it was important. Or that he was.
She spotted the door on the far side of the courtyard and considered running for it. Better not, to be safe. Instead, she edged around the perimeter of the enclosure. As she moved closer, the shadows deepened but didn’t slow her. She had to escape before Micah found her. She didn’t want to contemplate the punishment he’d mete out if he caught her.
Extending her hand, she felt along the stone wall as she crept further into the darkness. Any moment, she should reach wood. Hopefully, the door wouldn’t be locked. In her hurry to escape, she hadn’t considered that possibility.
Her fingertips hit the edge of a doorframe, and the air left her lungs in a rush of relief. It had to be unlocked. It just had to. She began patting the door, feeling for a handle. Instead, she found flesh. Hard. Warm. Flesh.
“Lost, leannan?”
Micah.
“I…I—” She took several steps back, and he followed her.
“You what?” His voice was as hard as his body.
Damn it. Why hadn’t she thought of a plausible explanation in case she was caught? What kind of idiot was she? A dead one from the lethal expression on his face.
He stalked closer, his dark skin absorbing any light. His chest and feet were bare. He’d only pulled on braes. She glanced down. He hadn’t even taken the time to fasten them. She swallowed hard at the expanse of exposed skin and tried to quell her rapid heartbeat.
Staying to accept her punishment wasn’t an option, so she ran. She hadn’t taken three steps before he grabbed her, yanking the hood from her head. She almost slipped away, leaving him with empty fabric, but he’d caught hold of her hair, wrapping it around his wrist, like a fish on the line.
Without a word, he lifted her and carried her back to his bedchamber, dumping her on the bed.
“Don’t move,” he growled.
She wouldn’t beg. She refused. If he beat her, he beat her. She’d withstand it, and she’d be damn sure her escape was successful next time.
He simply stood there in the torchlight and stared. Worry swept through her middle, but she tried to hide it. Despite her fear, excitement trembled in her belly. She tucked her legs beneath her and waited.
“Take them off.”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“Take. Off. My. Clothes,” he commanded, as though he were still on the battlefield.
The flickering flames cast harsh shadows over him, making him appear more menacing. Not that he needed the extra enhancement. He was intimidating enough without it.
Slowly, she raised her hands and released the clasp at the neck. The heavy cloak slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her body, marooning her in a sea of darkness.
“The shirt,” he prompted.
Elizabeth peered at him from beneath her lashes as she released the closures. His burgeoning erection grew as she bared her skin. Did he plan to use his body to discipline her?
Moisture dampened her core. What was the matter with her? Did she want him to rape her? Obviously, she didn’t, but she realized that no matter what he might threaten, he wouldn’t hurt her in that way. He wouldn’t take any woman against her will. He would just convince her she wanted him desperately. It had certainly worked well enough the last time.
Anger surfaced. She unfastened the last closure and flung the shirt straight at his head. He plucked it from the air and tossed it over a chair as he prowled closer to the bed. In a hopeless act of defiance, she crossed her arms over her chest.
His jaw tightened as he studied her. “You will not hide yourself from me, Elizabeth. You are my mate. You’d do well to get used to that.”
“We haven’t been officially joined yet,” she snapped.
He smiled grimly. “I’ve had my face buried in your cunt and my cock even deeper. Asher witnessed it and holds evidence of your virgin blood. How much more official does it need to be?”
He knelt on the end of the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight, and loomed over her. Instead of shrinking like she was sure he expected, she rose to her knees and faced him.
She wasn’t sure how effective her stance was. It was difficult to appear aggressive while naked, especially to a man who towered over her. His lips curved cruelly, and she fought a shiver.
Without warning, Micah grabbed her shoulders and shoved her. She landed on her back. Rolling to the side, she tried to scramble from the bed, but he caught her and held her in place.
Hardening his jaw, he collapsed on top of her, pinning her arms above her head.
“So we’re back to this?” she taunted. “Is this the only way you can get a woman to lie down for you?”
Why couldn’t she control her mouth? She’d be safer poking a wounded bear with a stick. She tossed her head, trying to fling her hair from her eyes. She wanted to see what was coming. She immediately regretted it.
His lips compressed in a harsh line, and his eyes glittered coldly. Without another word, he locked the manacles around her wrists again. Like a trapped and injured animal, she continued to fight, kicking at him.
“Remember, leannan, I will always find you. No matter what.” He grabbed one ankle, his massive hand circling it and forcing it to the bed as he snapped the cuff around it. With quiet purpose, he moved around the other side of the bed. Drawing her leg back, she thrust it forward, trying to reach his chest or his head. If she’d been thinking more clearly, she would have aimed for his groin. He caught her foot easily and held it flat against his chest.
He bent his head, and his teeth scraped her calf. A tremor shot through her, though she couldn’t tell if it was due to the ravenous expression glowing in his eyes or the sensation of his teeth on her flesh.
He dragged his fingertips from her thigh to her ankle, and she couldn’t suppress the moan that burst forth. Pure satisfaction emanated from him, as he forced her leg to the mattress.
“Obviously, we need to discuss your role as my mate.”
She looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.
“We’ll also need to discuss punishments for your transgressions. I have a feeling we’ll be spending a lot of time on those.”
Unable to help herself, she turned her head and glared at him. “Go fuck a sheep,” she muttered.
A tight smile creased his face, but genuine amusement seemed to lurk behind his eyes. “Why would I when I have such a succulent, little lamb in my bed?”
Ignoring her impotent snarl, he trailed his hand down her body. His touch spread through her like warmed honey.
“I’m cold. I’d like a blanket.” She knew she sounded petulant, but she didn’t care. Maybe if she annoyed him enough, he’d tire of her and release her. Or maybe she’d sprout wings and fly away.
He stripped off his breeches. “Oh, I’ll keep you warm.”
An annoying flutter fanned through her womb. How could he make such a tender offer sound like a threat? Worse, how could she be aroused by it?
He climbed on the bed and straddled her. She felt warmer already. His buttocks settled over her mound, though he didn’t rest his entire weight on her.
His face a mask of stark determination, he stroked her breasts. Her traitorous nipples hardened under his touch. He grinned, and she arched her back, trying to throw him from the bed.
“Are you so eager for me?”
She snarled and thrust her hips upward again, trying to dislodge him.
The bastard laughed.
She went limp. Fighting him obviously wouldn’t work. She’d simply refuse to respond. Satisfied with her new strategy, she turned her face to the side and closed her eyes. She’d pretend he wasn’t there.
A low chuckle rumbled through his body and vibrated along her limbs.
He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here.
