Page 18 of Across the Crimson Sands

“You want more?” I snarled, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Arilee’s breath hitched, but her gaze never wavered. “I can take whatever you dish out, Vinduthi.”

I lifted her, shoving her pants the rest of the way down before turning her to face me, her legs straddling my hips. Her eyes were dazed, her lips parted and inviting. I claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sweeping inside to tangle with hers.

She tried to take control, her hands sliding up my chest, but I caught her wrists, pinning them behind her back with one hand. With the other, I guided my cock to her entrance, teasing her with the promise of what was to come.

“Rokan, I?—”

“Shh,” I silenced her again, thrusting up into her in one swift motion. She was tight, so fucking tight, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming right then.

I set a brutal pace, using her body for my pleasure, each thrust driving us both closer to the edge. She was mine, every inch of her, and I would make sure she never forgot it.

“You feel that?” I growled, my lips brushing against her ear. “This is what you do to me. You make me lose control.”

She shook, her body arching into mine, her breasts pressed against my chest. “Rokan, I’m going to?—”

“Come with me,” I demanded, releasing her wrists to grip her hips, pulling her down hard onto my cock. My own release barreled down on me, a fierce, primal need that couldn’t be denied.

We came together, her screams of pleasure mingling with my guttural roar. I emptied myself inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.

For a long moment, we stayed there, joined together, our breaths ragged and our hearts pounding in unison. The rapid beat of her pulse fluttered beneath my lips as I pressed a kiss to her neck.

Slowly, reality began to intrude. The cool night air. The hard surface of the rock beneath us. The uncomfortable truth that, despite everything, I was no closer to letting her go than I had been before.

I eased her off my lap, standing up and adjusting my pants. Arilee watched me, her eyes still dark with desire, her body language uncertain.

“Rokan, I?—”

“Save it.” I needed to get back in control, needed to do it now. “We both know this changes nothing. You’re still my prisoner, and I still have a job to do.”

Her expression hardened, the vulnerability replaced once again by defiance. “I hate you,” she spat, pulling her own pants back into place.

I shrugged, the movement casual despite the turmoil inside me. “Hate me all you want. It doesn’t change the facts.”

She turned away from me, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill—or perhaps the memory of what we’d just shared.

I watched her for a moment, my gaze lingering on the proud set of her shoulders, then bound her wrists again.

Damn it.

I had just made things infinitely more complicated.

For both of us.

ARILEE

Iwoke with a jolt, my skull throbbing from a night on the merciless desert floor. My wrists burned, scraped raw by unyielding bindings. No amount of squirming freed me. I’d tried when Rokan dozed off, but he’d secured the ropes too damn well this time.

Rokan bustled about, tearing down our pitiful camp with brutal efficiency. The harsh sun stabbed my eyes, but it made Rokan’s skin glitter like crushed diamonds. His hair shone impossibly smooth, as if some desert magic had washed and dried it. My traitorous fingers itched to run through those silky strands.

Last night’s memories crashed over me, a tidal wave of sensation and turmoil. Much as I wanted to lie to myself, call it all a ploy to win him over, I couldn’t. I’d loved every second. More than I should have. He sure as hell wasn’t doing it for my pleasure.

Rokan’s gaze snapped to mine. He stalked toward me, each footfall screaming his presence. Heat flooded my face as desperation radiated off him in waves.

Fear and anticipation warred inside me. Would he use me again? The thought sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs. Vivid flashes of our coupling replayed in my mind.

I craved him. Needed more. A dangerous idea wormed its way in – if I pleased him thoroughly enough, maybe he’d keep me for himself.

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