Page 12 of Taken By the Barbarian King

I never want to stop either.

five

. . .

Lottie

Something cold and wet swipes across my face, rudely ripping me from unconsciousness. I wrench away from the attack, only to have my whole body protest with bone-deep aches. What the hell?

A high-pitched yap makes me wince and I peek open one eye to find the damn dog in my face. “Go away,” I hiss at it, but it just sits down, tail wagging, tongue hanging out.

A grumble sounds behind me and thick blue arms draw me tighter against a hard body–Thundar.

I hate to admit it, but it feels nice. His big body surrounds me, but he doesn’t give off much heat, so it’s actually the perfect temperature against my skin. His hair, which seems to have a life of its own, is soft and caressing against my skin, covering me like a makeshift blanket.

Memories of that hair flash through my mind. The way it touched me, gripped me, held me. It seemed to know exactly what would wring the most pleasure out of me and then turned the intensity up to max.

But it wasn’t just his hair, it was his… everything. He knew just how to touch me, when to go hard, when to go soft, what would drive me out of my mind with lust. We fucked for what must’ve been hours. Again and again, with barely any time in between to recover.

Apparently, Aysgarthian males have non-existent refractory periods.

I’ve never had such good sex in my life. I’ve never had so much sex in such a short time span either. I’m still wet between my legs from our endless orgasms, and even then, my pussy clenches at the thought of getting his cock inside me again.

That’s not normal, right? I shouldn’t want him this much, should I?

He abducted me. Plucked me right out of my very normal life and carried me away on this spaceship. I should hate him. I should be afraid of him. I should be fighting him. Not fucking him. Not liking every moment of the fucking so very much.

Jesus. What’s wrong with me?

“I can hear you thinking. Do all humans think so loudly?” Thunder’s voice is even more gravelly than usual, a soothing rumble against my back.

I scoff. “You can’t hear thoughts. Er, unless you’re telepathic. Are you telepathic?” I wriggle around in his arms until I’m facing him.

“No,” he says with a sleepy smile. “Aysgarthians are not telepathic. Though there are times when that skill would be very useful.”

“I can imagine.”

He blinks his long, white lashes. They compliment his sapphire eyes so beautifully. Eyes that were so hard and unyielding when he first stalked through the door, but now seem warm and almost affectionate. How is that possible? He doesn’t know me any more than I know him. Unless…

“Why me?” I ask. “Of all the planets in the galaxy and all the women on Earth, why did you abduct me?”

A furrow appears in his brow and he shifts to give us a little more breathing room. “Liberate, not abduct.”

I roll my eyes. “Liberate. Don’t get me started. Whatever. Just answer the question. Why me?”

“Because you are Princess Alexandra.”

I freeze. Oh, right, he thinks he abducted Alexandra, the crown princess of the British royal family. Not Lottie, the princess’ personal assistant who is heir apparent to… absolutely nothing at all.

I pull away from him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he lets me go. Scrambling off the bed, I grab my discarded robe from the floor and pull it back on. The stain on the front reminds me of how easily I put out for Thundar, but there’s nothing else in this godforsaken room for me to wear.

The dog sniffs at the spot I just vacated, then promptly cuddles up against Thundar’s chest. I don’t blame the creature, it’s a damn nice place to be. Thundar runs his fingers through the dog’s fur a few times before propping himself up on an elbow. He raises one knee, planting the foot on the mattress, making no effort to cover himself. Even soft, his cock is like a freaking snake between his legs.

“Alexandra?”

I grimace. I can’t keep letting him call me that, but what will happen if he finds out I’m not actually the princess he wants? Will he have his people kill me? Turn me into a slave? Will they go back for the real Alexandra? No, I can’t let that happen either.

“Lottie.” My name bursts from my lips before I can stop myself. “Call me Lottie. It’s what my family calls me.”

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