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He moved his big hand over the maps. “Never lost.” Then his bicep, and the snake eating its own tail. “Eternal war.” His gaze slid over her, his eyelids sinking low. “Though I’m more eager for eternal pleasure at the moment.”
Had she just whimpered? Forget any kind of cool down!
He smiled at her, a mere baring of his teeth. The irresistible rake knew his effect on her. On all women. “But I think you are equally eager.”
“Oh, I am,” she said, rolling her hips with more vigor. “If you give me what you want, Kaysar, I’ll give you what you need.” What they both needed.
Releasing a broken sound, he swooped down and kissed her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
KAYSAR KISSED CHANTEL with everything he had. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe without him. Until he didn’t want to breathe without her. His first and last mistress.
He had desired her, and he had won her. For now. Could he keep her?
He would have to find a way.
How many queens, princesses and peasants had he seduced throughout the centuries? Countless. They’d hailed from different kingdoms and had wanted different things, yet he’d had no trouble charming them from their husbands and lovers. He’d had no trouble remaining unaffected.
His relationship with Chantel wasn’t a temporary thing. Everything he did, everything he said, mattered. Because she mattered. He’d made mistakes with her that he now regretted. He refused to add new marks to his tally of wrongs.
Winning her for eternity was a requirement. The devotion Lulundria had showed Jareth, Kaysar now demanded for himself. There would be no rest until he achieved his goal.
Lifting his head to break the kiss hurt in a thousand different ways, but he did it. He kept his focus on the prize. Kissing was only the beginning...
She watched him with luminous eyes, her chest rising and falling as he gently unwound her hair from its knot. Long ebony waves spilled over the pillows, a waterfall of splendor and temptation.
Kaysar sat back on his haunches to examine his feast of feminine delights. An image forever branded into his mind. The top three buttons of her bodice were open, the material gaping, hinting at cleavage he would slaughter thousands to explore. The skirt bunched at her waist, baring the pale length of legs spread by his own—revealing a glistening sex guarded by a tiny thatch of black curls.
A new kingdom to conquer. The most exquisite of all.
“You need me,” he told her, in case she wasn’t certain.
“Maybe I do, but you can’t get enough of me, can you?” Clinging to the headboard, she undulated her hips. “Do you still carry my lock of hair?”
She knew about that? “I have it stored for safekeeping.”
A heady scent emanated from her, signaling a spike of pleasure.
Passion in its purest form took hold. She liked his obsession with her.
Only moments before, he’d been two knuckles deep inside her, enveloped by slick inner walls. His fingers glistened with her arousal.
Ensnaring her gaze with his own, he licked one digit, then the other. His shaft jerked at the incredible taste. “Sweeter than poisonvine, and far more potent.” The things I’m going to do to this woman...
Her lips parted. “You want more of me?”
“I want everything from you.” He would give everything, too. Almost. “Show me more of this luscious body.” Leaning forward, muscles flexing, he plucked one, two, three other buttons from her bodice. The material separated further, unveiling pretty pink nipples.
My own personal treasure trove. He had no words, rational thought erased.
A rosy flush spread over her breasts. “Am I everything you ever dreamed?”
“You are more than I ever believed possible.” The admission left him without reservation. Remaining on his knees, keeping her open to his view, he stroked his throbbing erection through his leathers. “See what you do to me.”
Her coarse whimper drew an answering groan from him.
With her prim gown so disheveled, her eyes alive with pleasure, she appeared wanton. “I will win you, my darling.” She released the headboard to cup her breasts and pinch her nipples. “I’ll make you mine. You want me to win you, don’t you?”
He reacted to her words as much as the thrill of her body. She’d called him my darling.
Win him? Already done. And yet, he croaked, “Yes. Win me.”
Intricate strands of ivy coiled designs over her arms, along her chest and around and around her legs. Those strands spread to him, binding his wrists tightly together.
She winged her brows, as if to say, Go ahead. Try to escape me.
As if he would ever want to. Once upon a time, he’d enjoyed a single fascination—his war with the Frostlines. With Chantel, he discovered many others. Earning more endearments. Being challenged by her mysterious mind. Watching a flush heat the flawless skin soon to burn his own. Playing with those plump breasts and nipples so like little berries. Filling a body made to glove his.
