Page 55 of Warlord's Plaything

“Xyron—” His name escapes my lips, half a plea, half a curse.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine, and the intensity in his gaze steals my breath. “Say it,” he demands, his voice rough, his hands gripping my hips. “Say you’re mine.”

I shake my head, refusing to give him the words, but my body betrays me, arching into his touch, craving more.

He growls, low and possessive, and then his hand is between my legs, his fingers sliding through my wetness, and I gasp, my hips jerking against his touch.

“You can deny it, Hira,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “But your body doesn’t lie.”

His fingers slip inside me, and I cry out, my nails digging into his back. He moves with agonizing slowness, his thumb circling my sensitive clit that makes me see colorful motes of lights. I’m trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my body coiled tight like a spring.

“Xyron—” I choke out his name again, my voice breaking.

“Say it,” he growls, his fingers curling inside me, sending sparks shooting through my veins. His eyes smolder, gazing at me, drinking me in with that predatory smile of his.

I can’t hold back anymore. “I’m yours,” I gasp, the words torn from me. “I’m yours.”

A small part of me refuses to give up, but the pleasure is too much. It’s building and building, at the same time, smashing my pride down.

He doesn’t give me a moment to regret it. In one swift motion, he’s inside me, filling me completely and my bodystretches to accommodate his huge cock. He pauses, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice rough.

I open my eyes, meeting his gaze, and the raw intensity there steals my breath. He begins to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust driving me closer to the edge. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, my nails raking down his back.

“You’re mine, little warrior,” he growls, his voice a dark promise. “Mine.”

A silent scream escapes my lips. It’s so good. My toes curl and my legs snake around his waist, pushing him on. Every nerve endings of mine are on fire.

“Fuck, little warrior!” he groans, his hold on me tightening. My eyes roll back as his moves even more faster than possible. His cock hits spot inside me I don’t know I have.

I’ve never known sex this good. This exciting.

I’m like a mumbling fool. I can’t argue. I can’t think. All I can do is feel—the heat of his body, the friction of his movements, the way he fills me completely.

My climax builds, a coil of tension tightening in my pussy, and when it breaks, it’s like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. I cry out, shuddering, my nails digging into him.

He follows me over the edge, his movements growing erratic, his breath warm against my neck. When he finally stills, his body pressed to mine, his breath ragged, I feel the implications of what we’ve done settle over me.

He’s ruined me.

And I let him.

19

XYRON

The aroma of incense lingers in the air, thick and cloying. It curls through the dimly lit corridors of the Herox estate, wrapping around me like a whisper of old power.

Xiva’s chambers are different from the rest of the fortress.

Where the council halls are cold, merciless, carved from black stone that seems to drink in the light, his private rooms are warm.

The torches burn lower here, golden and steady. The air is heavy with spice and aged parchment, with the musk of old leather and ancient tomes.

It smells like history. Like bloodlines. Like a kingdom resting on one man’s shoulders.

And that man?

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