The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

If she was going to consider being with this man for any length of time, she’d have to share a little about herself. “My mother wanted me to avoid drawing Erebus’s notice.”

When his hand remained outstretched, despite the mention of his foe, she placed her fingers against his.

“Wise of her,” he said, drawing Taliyah closer.

Well. He’d accepted the confession better than she’d expected.

He fiddled with knobs until warm water burst from the overhead spouts. Once the blood and viscera rinsed from their bodies, he pulled her against his chest and bared his neck. “Drink.”

Her gaze dropped to his racing pulse, visible beneath his skin, and she trembled. “Are you sure? If your block is down, I might accidentally steal some of your soul. Before you force me to feed, I mean.”

He gripped her by the nape, his eyelids hooding, his pupils pulsing. “Take whatever you need, Taya. I’ll recover.”

“Okay, but only because you’re insisting.” With a moan, she leaned forward...and sank her fangs into his vein.

He tightened his hold. And yes, his block was down. As hot blood trickled down her throat, she fought not to imbibe any of his soul. Must resist. He’d offered what she needed, but she declined the option of taking what she didn’t.

Heat cascaded through her as she drank, and her veins fizzed. The most powerful medicine she’d ever consumed. Incredible strength flooded her limbs. Gashes wove together at last. Any fractured bones mended.

“That’s the way,” he told her, cupping her backside to grind her against his length. “That’s my Taya. Take more.”

More. All. Everything. What could be better than this?

Drinking him while he thrusts inside you...

Spooked, she gently plucked her fangs from his flesh. “That’s...that’s enough.” Her tremors worsened as she wiped her mouth, scooping up any remaining beads of blood and licking her fingers. “I’m healed.”

“But you drank so little.” He pouted with keen disappointment. “I have more than enough. I can provide all you require, Taliyah.”

“I’m sure you can.” Shivers and pangs blended together, revealing unknown vulnerabilities. This new dynamic between them might require some getting used to. “I’m good, I promise.”

The disappointment dulled, flames of arousal flickering in those golden irises.

They exited the shower. He led her to the tub, eased down at the far edge and pulled her between his legs. Splayed out before him, she presented a veritable buffet of pleasures, giving him full access to places she ached. Fragrant steam enveloped them, painting the air with a dreamy haze.

“I think I know how you are a phantom and...you.” He settled his hands on her shoulders and massaged, her eyelids sliding shut. “I suspect Erebus and his brother did something to your people during their raids.”

He was so close to the truth, yet so far away. “Yes and no. No,” she added when he prepared to comment further. “I’ll say no more on the subject right now.”

“Very well.” Leaning over, he collected a vial of soap and lathered her up. He took great care with her breasts, kneading to make sure they got extra clean. Especially her lucky nipple piercing.

Her arousal accumulated in select locations, sharpening the delicious aches between her legs. As she rocked her hips, seeking a touch, a kiss, something, the water rippled.

“Is there something you wish to discuss?” he rasped near her ear.

Goose bumps spread over her limbs. “So many things,” she admitted. “Let’s start with your safety. What are you going to do about the stones?”

“Fight, despite them. Begin training with them. But let’s not talk about that, either.” He ran a hand down her left arm and traced his thumb over the stars on her wrist. “How did you earn these?”

Every touch electrified. His curiosity produced a similar effect. “Well, for this one—” she pointed “—I won my first Harpy Games. That’s our version of the Olympics, mixed with MMA, mixed with The Amazing Race.” Not that he knew what any of those things were, probably. “I won my second Harpy Games just to prove I could and took first, second and third place because no one was willing to stand on the podium with me. Apparently, I didn’t play nice during either event.”

“That, I believe.” He tapped another star. “And this one?”

Before she responded, he used his free hand to pluck her nipple piercing. Pleasure arced through her. “Wait. What?” She’d already forgotten his question.

His husky chuckle caressed her heating skin. “How did you earn this star?” His naughty hand moved to her navel, his fingers gliding around and around, teasing and tormenting.

Stardust glittered there, distracting her. Somehow, she rallied. “I led a successful military campaign against a prick of a king who had enslaved some of our people. I put his insides on his outsides. And yes, I said outsides, plural. At the time, the king was in pieces.” She lost her train of thought when Roc reached the apex of her thighs.