The Savage King (7 page)

"My kind cannot take back such declarations, especially on the same day they're made. To do so would dishonor us both. It would be assumed either you lied or I misused you and later denied it. Either way, it's not a good way to start my reign as King--with scandal."

"Tell everyone I lied. You'll not be looked down upon. In fact, you can say you banished me from the palace as punishment. It'd solve both our problems." Unbidden, her eyes began a journey over his hard body. He was gorgeous to be sure. Her gaze took in his broad shoulders, his slender waist, his perfectly proportioned hips. Seeing the hard bulge pressing against his pants, her mouth went dry. She wished her hands were free so that she could pull open the laces at his hips to better see. But, being as her hands were occupied, she'd gladly use her teeth--if he'd just step closer.

"You'll be dishonored."

Ulyssa's eyes flew up to meet his. His features were lined with vast amusement.

"I don't care what your people think of me. So what I'm dishonored." She widened her eyes and declared mockingly, "I'm sure I'll get over it."

"To be dishonored in my culture is to face either imprisonment or death." Kirill's eyes roamed over her body, devouring her form as she had his. His gaze stopped to leisurely stare at her breasts. He purposefully licked his lips. "If I let you go, you'll be hunted."

"Well, oh dire one, tell me. How do we get out of this mess?"

"There's only two ways I know of," he answered.

"The first?"

"Death."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to die for me, would ya stud?" Ulyssa asked with a raise of her brow.

"No." Kirill grinned mischievously at her--a truly wicked smile. Tremors again coursed through her at the look. He was really too attractive, just looking at him made her mind wander to naughtier things.

"And the second?" Her voice came out a whisper. His smile widened. Ulyssa grew nervous. "What's the second way?"

"You have to stay here, in my home, and be my mistress."

It took awhile for the shock of his bold statement to set in. Ulyssa stared at him, waiting for the laughter that was sure to follow such a declaration. The laughter never came. Even as her body leapt with fire at the idea of being his lover, her mind rebelled. She would belong to no man. She could be no man's mistress.

Lightly, he continued, "You'll stay, and your body will release mine."

Kirill eyed the beautiful woman tied to his bed, waiting for her reaction to his words. Her face was blank, but it didn't matter. He could see the disbelief in every subtle movement of her form. Her breath caught and held. Her fingers curled into light fists. He'd known the statement would irritate her.

"In return, mine will give you pleasure," he whispered with confidence. He watched her body shiver at the words.

Sacred Cats! She was ravishing to behold. From the view he was afforded of her silky hip all the way up her side to the roundness of her breast, he knew she was naked beneath the traditional gown. Her darker nipple pressed against the transparent material, outlined to perfection.

The darker region between her thighs drew his attention. Already, he knew she desired him. He could smell the scent of her as it filled his head. His mouth watered, eager to taste her. His lips parted slightly, wanting to taste the cream of her skin, the flavor of her essence. He wanted to ignite the passions he felt simmering beneath her fiery surface and at the same time slake his own burning needs.

He'd been shocked to find her strapped down as an offering to a King. He didn't doubt how she said she got there. Trust Falke, his ever-dutiful brother, to follow the old traditions to the letter. If this woman declared herself the future King's woman and then, as he suspected she had, tried to escape Falke as he made her ready, his Commander brother could've very well tied her down without a second thought. A King's wish in such matters was always followed.

She was strong, so frustratingly stubborn. Those traits were clear. But, beneath the stubborn exterior, he detected a vulnerability that made every fiber in his masculine being want to protect her and keep her safe. It'd been there in her eyes when he'd scared her in his shifted form. She'd never be more to him than a half-mate, a lover. But, to possess her, would be an honor worthy of a King.

"No."

"No?" Kirill's brows rose in surprise. What did she mean no?

"That's right. No. I'll not be your mistress," Ulyssa said. "I don't want to be."

"It's a position of great honor," he countered.

"Uh, still, no thanks. I'll pass." Ulyssa grinned smugly at him.

"You are in no position to negotiate." Kirill would never take an unwilling woman, but she had started the game between them and frankly he was amazed that she said no to him. He tilted his head and made a great show of taking a deep breath. Her longing filled him like a sweet, intoxicating perfume. "Besides, your body says you'd like very much to be my lover."

Ulyssa's mouth fell open, before she grumbled wryly, "Nice try, barbarian. If you were going to ravish me, you'd have done it last night. Now, let me go before I get really mad."

"Perhaps I should ask nicely before you make your decision." His voice practically growled as he grinned like a boy about to test a new sword. Slowly he made his way down to the foot of the bed, keeping his dark eyes on hers.

Gradually, Kirill's gaze slid down her frame, over her breasts, her waist, past her hips, until finally it stopped at the apex of her thighs hidden beneath the dark gown. His body curled forward as he moved onto the bed. Crawling on all fours, he came above her. His knees fitted between her loosely bound legs and he placed his palms down on the bed, outside of her thighs.

Slowly, he looked up at her, taking his time as he studied her body beneath his. Dark hair spilled over his shoulders and down his back. A light of promise filtered into his piercing gaze.

Ulyssa's heart nearly stopped at the meaning in his expression. Her breath came out in raspy pants. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Kirill licked his lips as his finger drew forward to her knee. Lightly, he touched her and she trembled. Her eyes widened. A torrent of moisture pooled between her thighs and made ready for him.

Watching his finger as if it was the most important task in the world, Kirill drew it in light circles up her inner thigh. The back of his hand edged up her skirt by agonizingly small degrees. Her leg twitched, falling slightly open in invitation. The movement caused his hand to still in its progress over her skin. Kirill moaned softly, leaning over to brush his lips against her raised knee. He didn't kiss her, just allowed his lips to discover the texture of her skin in a brief caress.

Ulyssa's body jerked violently, giving away the depths of her need. Her center was wet, hot, nearly burning in anticipation. Her hands worked against the ties, fighting to be free. His lips brushed along her knee another time and she again jerked. Ripples of pleasure shot through her at the simple caress. Her back arched, offering itself up in invitation. She wanted more from him, so much more.

Kirill groaned in approval of her passion. She was so purely wild in her untamed responses. Even though he knew a part of her fought what stirred between them, she wanted him. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his hand back into a fist. Sitting between her legs, he studied her intently.

"What?" she began, confused. Her lids fluttered as she searched for him in the dimness. "Why'd you stop?"

"You belonged to my father, Lyssa," he stated simply.

Ulyssa tensed. "I belong to no man, especially not your father."

To her surprise, a smile flashed over his features at her words. "I truly pity any man who'd love you with his heart, for it'd be a weary battle to win yours."

Ulyssa felt the instant sting of tears at the words, but blinked them back. She didn't care to wonder why the truth would feel like such a hard kick in the gut. Hadn't she always said the exact same thing? But, to hear it from him seemed ... painful.

Kirill's hand reached once more for her thigh, pushing the skirt up higher. His voice a low rumble, he asked, "Do you want this?"

"It's just sex, Kirill," she answered, still hurt by his words and covering it with her straightforward way of talking. "I've had my intergalactic travel shots and I can't get pregnant. We have nothing to worry about."

He stopped, considering her words.

"What? I can't call you Kirill? Do you really want me to shout out Your Royal Highness?" Ulyssa smirked.

Kirill came forward and brushed his lips against hers. It was a kiss they both felt all the way down to their toes. Whispering along the corner of her mouth, he said, "No, in bed you may call me whatever you wish. In public it is my lord, my King, or King Kirill."

"You do realize that I'm not staying here." Ulyssa bumped his nose playfully with hers.

"You realize I can't permit you to leave quite yet," he answered, rubbing back.

"I wasn't asking for your permission." She reached her tongue to trace the seam of his lips, trying to tempt him to madness. He tasted like wine--warm, delicious. "You have no power over me."

"I can't allow you to leave." Reaching out with his tongue, he did the same to her. His dark eyes bore down into her blue ones. "And I have power over everything in my land."

"It would seem we can't reach an agreement," she whispered. Her long lashes fluttered over her eyes, as the tips of their tongues touched and tangled in slow circles.

Kirill sucked her tongue's tip into his mouth and closed his lips around it as he slowly pulled back. "Mm, so it would seem."

Ulyssa moaned, unable to take the drawn out seduction. Her body hummed with fire. She needed him to fulfill the ache his nearness stirred. Parting her lips, she pushed up, ready to claim his mouth with hers in a searing kiss. He pulled back, as if he'd been anticipating her advance. He let a slow smile form on his mouth as he paused, letting her know that he was in control.

Then, just as eagerly, he closed the distance and gave her what she craved. His tongue delved between her lips, sweeping past the barrier of her teeth to possess and explore as his mouth sawed heavily against hers. She met him fully, no hesitation. Her teeth bit lightly into his bottom lip, as she sucked it into her mouth. Their loud moans intermingled in the bedroom, echoing off the walls.

"Mmm, you taste sweet," he said into their kiss. "Like berries."

He roamed his hands over her sides, touching her skin through the laces. Reaching the side of her breast, his thumb slipped beneath the material to settle under a soft globe.

"You skin is like silk." Kirill's kisses moved from her lips, trailing over her jaw to her throat. Small animalistic noises escaped him as he softly devoured her. Everywhere he touched a fire ignited in her flesh. She'd been with men, but none had provoked such a response as to make her lightheaded and giddy. "And it tastes like cream."

Ulyssa shivered in feminine pleasure. Never had she felt more like a woman than she did when he spoke to her. She suddenly didn't mind being helpless to his whim.

"Mmm, berries and cream." Kirill's hands slid down to her hips. His tongue flicked her earlobe and then he sat back to watch as he pulled her skirt over her waist. His lids fell heavy over his eyes as the small thatch of hair was revealed to him. "I want to eat you all up."

Pleasure exploded as his mouth lowered onto her wet mound. Instantly, his long tongue met with her feminine lips, parting them so that he may take a deep taste. Ulyssa cried out. His hands held her steady as he lapped up the cream of her body. Her hips jerked and she almost climaxed against him. His low chuckle of pleasure reverberated between her thighs, vibrating against her.

Teeth grazed the center nub of her desire. He licked her opening, only to suck gently. Ulyssa screamed. Kirill sucked harder, milking an orgasm from her body.

Bright lights exploded beneath her closed lids. Her teeth bit hard into her lip, nearly drawing blood as the tremors overtook her. Her body became rigid as she bucked up from the bed, straining the bonds. She came hard against his mouth and still he wouldn't stop, wouldn't let the torment end. Only when she was weak and panting, begging him for mercy, did he pull back.

A satisfied expression came to his dark features. He sat back, reaching to pull off his belt. Ulyssa fought for control, for reason. Her eyes devoured him, trying to focus as the tremors subsided. Soon, his shirt was unlaced and pulled over his head, revealing the bronzed perfection of his smooth chest.

Ulyssa was almost too weak to move, but as she watched the slow seduction of his stripping, she found herself ready for more. Only, this time, she wanted him buried inside her. Her eyes moved down to the bulge of his arousal. Instead of revealing it to her curious eyes, he reached to untie her legs. Once freed, he gently massaged the blood back to her ankles. Her feet worked restlessly on the bed as he took his time touching her. Her legs stayed open, waiting for him.

Seeing her gaze still trained on his erection, Kirill asked in a dark tone, "Would you like to see it?"

Ulyssa nodded. Breathless, she panted, "Yes."

He smiled and stood beside the bed before tugging the laces along his thighs. The material slid off him to the floor. He stood proud, naked before her, letting her look her fill. His body was all sinew and muscle. Not a measure of fat marred his perfect, smooth frame.

Ulyssa's eyes darted to his arousal and she gasped in pleasant surprise. If anything, the smooth shaft was larger than it should have been on his slender body. She wasn't sure if the enormous size excited or terrified her. It didn't take long before her excitement won out. No wonder he had no qualms about undressing for her. With a weapon like that, it was a wonder he didn't roam about naked all the time.

"Mm, come here," she purred.

Reaching over with her foot, she ran her toes along his inner thigh. His movements were refined, stalking, graceful, as he crawled over her once more. She loved to see the dominating grace of his muscles as they rippled beneath his skin. His fingers found her laces and slowly parted her from her clothes, kissing her flesh as he leisurely undressed her. She writhed wildly against him, rubbing her calves restlessly over his back, his hips, along his sides, wherever she could reach.