The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

Irritation spiked. “You know you aren’t to speak with my men. You know because I told you. Consider this your first and only warning.” Because of her position as his bride, their sense of honor demanded they obey.

Far from cowed, she resumed her pout. “Is my new hubby the jealous type?”

Never. “Do you seek to arouse us so we’ll fight over you? Is that what this is about?”

“Of course not.” She blew him a kiss with a hint of fang. “That’s just a bonus.”

“Sit,” he demanded.

Of course, she resisted. “I think I’d rather fill a plate and go. With everyone congregating at the other end of the table, I’ve got to assume you’re terrible company.”

“When you resist, I will assist. Then I’ll force.” He stemmed a stronger tide of irritation, stood and held out her chair. I won’t reach for her. Won’t shake her...or haul her into my lap. “Don’t pretend to misunderstand the ways of warriors. You fight to become General. A title that will set you apart from those you lead.”

“Apart, yes. Not above.”

“Questioning my leadership?” Others had died for less.

“Wow. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. But just to be clear, yes, I’m questioning your leadership. I’ll definitely do things differently when I’m in charge.” Movements as fluid as water, she eased into the offered chair at last. “Be honest. You beat off to thoughts of me as soon as you left the throne room, didn’t you?”

Sensitive? “You admit you used an illusion of invisibility to follow me?” Why part with a rare advantage?

She grinned, smug assurance pulsing from her. “Well, I am part snakeshifter. What did you expect?”

The woman’s confidence remained unsullied. She truly believed she could best him. Perhaps he should show her the error of her ways.

She shouldn’t play with a man who is stronger, faster and far more determined.

Fueled by the irritation—only the irritation—Roc half rose, leaning over the table to grip her by the waist. As he sat back down, he pulled her onto his lap, using his knees to force her legs apart. He shackled her arms behind her back as her wings fluttered against his chest.

Slits in her dress caused the material to gap, revealing silken skin and a dagger inside its sheath.

To his consternation—yes, only consternation—she relaxed against him, smashing her wings, as if he’d put her exactly where she’d wanted to be.

Her game rolled on, whatever it was. Perhaps she merely hoped to drive him mad?

“Please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong,” she said, “but I do believe I feel my leverage growing.”

Well, he had his answer. She did indeed hope to drive him mad.

Roc bit his tongue, tasting blood. As every astonished gaze watched their byplay unabashed, he rumbled straight into her ear, “I told you what happens when you provoke an Astra. Now I’ll show you. Tit for tat. Challenge me in front of my men, and I’ll do the same to you.”

* * *

Taliyah cut off a groan as the Astra reached under her skirt and thrust two fingers deep into her core. Alaroc’s incredible scent surrounded her. His heat engulfed her, and the incomparable strength of his body thrilled her.

You started this. See it through. “This is your idea of punishment, warlord? Or did you decide to seize the first excuse to finger me?” She’d come here planning to act nice and ask questions while he leered at her. The moment she’d spotted his erection, she’d switched gears. Why not poke at his pride until he bragged about his strengths, the realm key and anything else she wished to know?

He didn’t stand a chance.

As he slowly plunged those fingers in and out, he nearly wrenched another groan out of her. “What do you think you’re doing, flirting with me, harpy? I want to hear you admit it.”

“I’m tricking you into a public fondling. Obviously.” Oh, how she hated her breathlessness. “By the way, it took me thirty seconds. Are you embarrassed?”

He growled and nipped her earlobe. “What are you doing?” he insisted.

“I’m proving you not so secretly desire me and showcasing my ability to make you do my bidding. What else?”

Low and gruff, he asked, “Do you truly believe anyone can force me to do something I don’t want to do?”

“I do. Very easily.” Arching her back, she gifted him with a better look down the deep V of her dress. “I just have to make you want to say yes more than you want to say no.”

Leaning into her, letting his thick beard stubble abrade her cheek, he stroked her clitoris. “Why don’t I prove how much you not so secretly desire me?”

A gasp left her, her pleasure undeniable. Control!

When rational thought resumed, she gave a husky laugh. “If no one can force you, you want to finger me.”

“Would you complain if I stopped?” His next exhalation tickled her skin, rousing goose bumps. “Why don’t I make you scream your surrender?”