Khalida hated him with the passion of someone who had loved him with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.Someone who would have gladly set the world alight to walk next to him.Until he had walked out.But she was no longer the young naïve Atlantean anymore, and he no longer held her heart.
His other hand brushed up along her torso, setting her nerve endings on fire when he traced the line from her navel, along her stomach, to her seam with just enough pressure, but her body needed more.He tightened his grip around her neck.Tiny pinpricks of pressure stole her breath.He knew exactly what her body loved.Her wrist throbbed in time with her heart.She didn’t need to look at it to know the consort mark was slightly brighter than it had been a week ago.Just like his would be.The intricate, triple spiral yellow tattoo covered most of her left wrist, and for centuries had been dormant.Until he had come back to Egypt.And re-triggered the connection.
Black eyes, the color of obsidian, blazed down at her, filled with lust and a hint of obsession.
She wanted to scratch his perfect face.Or stab him with one of her swords.Her favorite sword was less than two feet away from them.
His warm lips grazed her ear.“Say my name.”
She struggled, his grip tightening ever so slightly.“Douchebag.”
His laugh vibrated through her as she rolled her hips, trying to force him to move.But he was like a wall, solid and unmovable.At six foot three, he was only a few inches taller than her, but somehow, he made her feel small.He reminded her of a dark-haired Viking god who had fallen to earth.With his dark olive Mediterranean skin, full lips, sharp cheekbones and tricolored brown, red, and blond hair.He gripped her hip, his nails digging into her flesh through her black uniform.
She was so fucking wet, she was surprised she wasn’t dripping through her underwear.
“Kiki,” he said.
She hated that name.He was the only one who had ever gotten away with calling her that.At one point, she had found it endearing.Now she wished she’d had the foresight to stab him when they first met.It would have saved them a lot of trouble.
“Fuck me or let me go,” Khalida demanded.
“My name, Kiki.I want to make sure you know who is making you scream.”
His fingers danced over her pussy with enough pressure, even through her clothes, that she was chasing the high, but it stayed out of reach.
She bit her lower lip, reminding herself that her body wasn’t reacting to his touch specifically.It could have been anyone, and she would still be in the same situation.
He licked her collarbone, the oh-so-sensitive spot that almost made her orgasm instantly.She clenched her legs together in response.He was aware of the reaction she would have.It had been more than five hundred years since he had touched her.And now with the whisper of a caress she was ready to fall apart.
She.Hated.Him.
“I’m waiting.”
Fuck him.Khalida pushed him away.Her body screamed in protest.
He didn’t budge, instead he grabbed her wrists and placed them above her head, pinning her to the wall.“We both need this, Kiki.This once.Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll stop.”
In the moment of stillness that followed, she couldn’t deny it.Blatantly lying to prove a point was not something she would resort to.“I...one time only,” she breathed.
He violently pulled at the zipper at her front and dragged it down toward her hips, before he slid the matte black skintight uniform off her shoulders, leaving her barely any ability to move.Unclipping the front of her sports bra with deft fingers, he brushed over one of her brown nipples and then the other, instantly hardening them even more.
Cold air hit her, but it didn’t cool her down one bit, instead just flamed the burning desire running through her.Goose bumps exploded all over her as he slowly looked her over.She forced back the memory of the time when he used to look at her like she was a goddess.Desire spread through her as her body ached to be touched.
She lifted her chin and glared back.
“I could never decide what I liked more—your perfect tits or your pussy.”A wicked smile spread across his face as he cupped her breast, flicking her nipple.
Khalida’s breath hitched as she arched her back.The uniform was too constricting, the material designed to protect her body in a fight, not to be easy to slip out of.
He lowered his head, hovering over her.Waiting.
She gritted her teeth.“Talik.”
“Now, princess, was that so hard?”Talik asked as he slipped his hand under her uniform and circled her clit leisurely, applying just enough pressure to make her hips buck.Her body was on fire, aching to have more, but nothing she did made him increase the pressure or the speed.Barely enough, it made her want more.She tugged, trying to dislodge her hands, but Talik held firm.
Princess was an insult when he said it; and he knew it.A title that had been stripped from her because of him.“This changes nothing.”
Talik tsked, ignoring her words.“So very wet and very pretty.”
