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He grabs the shirt Taj gave me with one hand and tears it open. I gape at him as the laces snap and fabric rips, seams giving way, and then he throws away a handful of scraps to leave me naked from the waist up.
My nipples pebble instantly and his gaze is drawn to them. He slides one rough hand over my ribcage and taps one nipple with his forefinger, like a Temple cat playing with shadows.
I gasp, feeling it all the way into my core. I arch a little on the pallet—which only serves to press my throbbing, wet nether regions against his crotch.
And a very thick, long, hard cock.
Oh, sweet goddess…
“Where hurts?” he asks again, but he sounds distracted now, shifting against me, his finger rubbing over my nipple.
His erection is hot, or maybe I’m the one who’s on fire. I lift my hips as much as I can to rub against it, and he groans, a deep, rumbling sound of need that shoots through me, making me reach for him. I’m drowning in need.
Grabbing the hanging tails of fur hanging off him, I yank him down. With a startled huff, he lies on top of me, catching himself on his elbows before he crushes me, and we both gasp when that presses his cock—his obviously naked cock—very firmly between my legs.
Oh crap.
So frigging good.
Stop this, I tell myself. Push him away. He’s a savage and a brute, the man who abducted you, and you’re rubbing on him like a cat in heat.
And on that point, though you may be going into heat, just like a cat, you’re not your body’s slave. You have your own mind, you’re a practical, rational person, a Temple acolyte who’s lived her life with discipline and form.
Get it?
It doesn’t matter.
I can’t help myself.
His long locks tickle my cheeks as I lift my head and press my mouth to his, powerless against the onslaught of arousal and lust. Firm lips, his thin beard scratching my chin, teeth clacking against mine, his taste spicier than his scent with a touch of honey underneath the zing.
Artume, oh, yes, this is so good…
… but he pulls back with a grunt, eyes round like saucers, a flush on his cheekbones.
Then he’s off me and out of the cave like a shot, quicker than you can say arrow, his steps echoing long after he’s gone.
If I had an arrow, though, I’d have thrown it at him.
Dammit.
What’s an omega got to do around here to get laid? Seriously. I need a thick cock in this wet pussy, guys. An alpha cock. Something I never thought I’d say in a million years.
I don’t think I’ve ever even used the word cock in a conversation in all my life.
Yeah, I’m getting desperate. Can you tell?
Even my savage kidnapper won’t do me. Is it something about me that puts men off? I ask you. What will it take for my alphas to accept me?
2
ARIADNE
Sleep overtakes me as I lie among the furs. I had meant to get up and go after him, demand he take me back, or at least to run away. But these past days—weeks?—have worn me out. I’m exhausted, hungry, thirsty, in pain.
In despair.
I dream of the Temple at the fort, of Artume’s statue and severe face, of the council room and Councilor Kaidan’s leer—then of burning cities and dragons flying overhead like streaks of fire.
