Page 8 of Taken By the Barbarian King

A shudder runs through me, though I can’t tell if it’s from fear or desire. Because as much as my brain knows it should be fear, my body apparently has a mind of its own.

“Because Princess Alexandra…” With a single finger on my chin, he turns my head to face him. “I’ve chosen you.”

His lips land on mine, surprisingly soft and gentle. They move slowly, almost caressing, coaxing.

Despite myself, I relax slightly, and when his tongue swipes across the seam of my lips, I gasp. He takes advantage of the opening to dip inside and the second his tongue makes contact with my own, fire zips straight down to my pussy.

I drench myself.

Thundar groans like he can smell my arousal and plasters himself to me. A thick thigh wedges itself between my legs, forcing me up onto my toes. One hand grips my hip while the other snakes around my back to the nape of my neck. He holds me to him, to all that hard muscle, and the very large appendage that’s growing against my stomach.

Two locks of his hair wind around my wrists, not painful or tight, but firm enough to pull my arms up and over his shoulder. The rest of his hair wraps around me, finding every little gap in my robe and sneaking underneath to stroke my skin.

Fuck. What is happening? Why does this feel so good? Why am I so wet and ready to spread my legs?

I don’t know this man. He’s an alien. He abducted me. But my body has overruled my brain and decided that I’m going to jump on top of whatever he’s got between his legs.

I whine–actually fucking whine–when he breaks the kiss. My head is spinning, my clit is throbbing, and all I want to do is drag him back down to me.

Then his lips curl into the cockiest smile I’ve ever seen. “It appears that you do, in fact, wish to copulate with me.”

four

. . .

Thundar

She glowers at me. It's cute, I cannot fib.

"Ha! In your dreams, ogre. What, you spend all of two seconds with me and you think you know me?"

I like the way she acts like she doesn't want me. Like a fire doesn't light up behind her small human eyes every time she looks at me. Like she's not affected by my presence.

"I'm not familiar with ogres. Are they charming alien princes who make human girls wet with a kiss?"

The way her jaw drops as if I've offended her is a thing of beauty and makes me want to reclaim those lips, that tongue. But I hold myself back. Despite appearances, I'm not a monster.

Drakking Hailar. He should have told her what to expect. He should have explained the situation. The process. The rituals.

He knows it's only right. Liberating our brides is primitive enough as it is. He knows I never wanted to force anyone to be with me. That I want my chosen mate to have some agency in the matter, even if it isn’t much of one anyway.

But I'll worry about him later. For now, I'm stuck in here with the princess, which, if my instincts aren't fooling me, isn't going to be such a horrible fate after all.

"You… you… you're a vulgar man. You know that?" she says and crosses her arms as if she's made an incredible, irrefutable point.

I'll let her have that. I'm vulgar.

"It's the way of our people. We speak our minds, not hide behind… clothes, and complicated words."

She frowns with a huff and looks away from me.

And to think only a moment ago I had her pinned against me, her heart pulsating as if it had been beating in my own chest.

"I believe we've started on the wrong foot?—"

"Wrong foot? How about I shove a whole fucking foot up your ass, and show you how wrong this whole situation is."

"Is this a kink you have?" The way her face contorts tells me she's not in the mood for my humor so before she can reprimand me yet again I open my mouth. "I apologize. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

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