Possessing the Princess

Any sense of propriety began slipping away with just a few crude but well-aimed words in his deep-timbred voice.

My nipples were hard because of him.

My breath had hitched when the barest hint of his lips brushed the side of my neck.

I had been pining for a moment with him, just like this.

Between us, heat spread. Like oil fields on fire, incandescent and dancing, natural spirits aflame with unquenchable desire.

A combustion, a chemical reaction. An uncontrollable attraction.

Never had I felt a man’s tumescence against me. Even when others had danced with me, I’d been just cool enough to maintain personal distance.

I’d wanted none other.

I very much wanted Aris.

I was sordidly, shockingly aroused by him and the heat coming off of him, danger all on his own. Getting burned by Aris would be a delicious fire, something I’d never experienced and likely never would . . .

And then he opened those sensual lips and started muttering unconcealed threats.

Now, he gripped me against his large unyielding frame and ordered, “I want you to stop coming here.”

A hot pulse of rage quickly took the place of arousal. I tried to wrench away from him, but it was no use.

“Why? Because you’re feeling it as much as I am?” I pressed boldly against him.

His cock kicked against my belly, but he gritted his teeth. “Feeling what? Like I want to strangle some common sense into you?”

“I’m not the one drawing attention to us. You are,” I hissed.

His jaw clenched and his hands hardened. Just when I thought he was going to hurl more insults at me in his superior tone, a tall woman approached.

She was Arabian too but she wore a slim fitted suit, one probably almost as expensive as Aris’s. Only whereas he had on a tie, she definitely did not. Instead, beneath the jacket that hugged her lean figure, she’d donned a very lowcut camisole.

I was so flushed with vivid anger that I barely spared another glance at her. She’d captured Aris’s attention completely though.

Even while he maintained his tough grasp on me, he nodded at her. “What is it?”

The stunning woman shot a glare at me before muttering, “There’s been a breach.”

“A breach,” Aris said flatly.

She gave me another withering glance, and I immediately understood she knew exactly who I was. “Hired thugs. I recognize them. They’re from Sharjah and they’re after her.”

A cold feeling spread inside of me at the mention of Uncle’s principality. Hired thugs? Had he discovered my secret? Or . . .

I glanced between the pair, Aris still holding onto me. That was when I noticed the woman gripped a handgun discreetly down by her side.

I scanned around The Lykos and saw a number of brutish-looking men all at focused attention and similarly armed. I had thought they were just the bouncers for the club, but bouncers did not carry sidearms. Did they?

Oh, no.

Aris’s face grim, he pulled a weapon from a holster beneath his jacket.

“Take her upstairs,” he ordered the other woman.

Alarm rattled through me.

“I’m not babysitting her. Get Konstantin to do it.”

“He’s a better shot than you are.” There was a new tone in Aris’s voice, like he was actually looking forward to the prospect of combat.

And I was so damn angry at the two of them talking around me just like everyone else in my life. I succeeded in freeing myself from Aris’s grasp but then he pushed me toward the woman.

“Go now with Yasmin.”

He issued another series of orders in a commanding tone, and I watched as if through a haze as more tall, black dressed men materialized as if from ether.

Within seconds, the nightclub erupted with more than just the usual loud music and bright lights.

A dozen or so of those hired thugs entered, and the strobes turned to vicious red. That must’ve been some sort of signal to Aris’s forces because those weapons formerly hidden at their sides raised into full view.

Everything spun out of control so quickly, I had no choice but to hustle along, this woman Yasmin prodding me in front of her.

“What?” My head whipped back, and I watched in horror as other clubbers began rushing toward the exits or crouching beneath tables. “Where are you taking me?”

“Shut up, princess.” She hauled me through a door, marched me up a flight of stairs.

At the top, she opened another door and shoved me through. “I knew you were trouble the first time I laid eyes on you.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but she gave me another forceful push. Then she advanced, and I scrambled to reach under my skirt. I kept a small, sharp blade strapped there. I could always stab her and make my escape.

Yasmin gave a short laugh before swatting my hands down. She kept me immobilized as she found my knife and pocketed it before I could even blink.

She cast a scathing look at me before stomping her way to the door.

When she reached it, she called back, “Stay put. Or die. See if I care.”

The woman who looked like some kind of runway model had the mean streak of a natural born dictator.

The door slammed shut with an ominous mechanical click. I rushed back to it only to find the door had automatically locked.

Shouting uselessly, I banged on the portal until my hands were numb.

Then I hurried as much as I could in the tight skirt to the one-way windows I’d sensed Aris behind on many nights before. Sure enough, I had the perfect view of all levels of The Lykos, and what I saw horrified me.

Clubgoers screamed and streamed across the space, trying to hurl themselves to safety.

The enemy faction filed through the interior, firing wildly.