Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(11)

"If I could free you, I would." She'd free them all, herself included. But freedom from Birik was impossible. She'd tried. Over and over she'd tried until Birik made certain she would never try again.

With a last stroke of the doe's soft coat, she crossed back and closed the steel door to the room, a door Birik had installed years ago to keep her in. She rarely bothered to close it anymore. It had never kept anyone out. But she closed it now, needing no audience for what she must do.

With a deep breath that did little to calm her, she moved slowly toward the cold slab of rock that had acted as her bed for so many years. The Feral's black eyes watched her every step of the way. As she drew near, she couldn't find the courage to meet the anger in his eyes and looked away, letting her gaze wander over his powerful male body instead. He was truly magnificent. Mage males tended toward slim physiques and few overt muscles. Not so the Ferals.

This one in particular was a sight to behold. His skin was a beautiful shade of bronze, his chest broad and muscular, adorned with a thick, intriguing tattoo - an intricate interweaving of curves and lines. Around one of the thickly muscled arms chained above his head curved a golden armband. At one end, the head of a panther stared out at her, its eyes twinkling with emeralds. She knew the armband could not be removed except by the wearer himself.

Birik had tried.

With a deep breath, she forced herself to meet that dark, angry gaze.

The moment she did, he growled at her. "Free me."

"I can't." Her breath caught, her pulse fluttering as she felt the pull of those eyes. She had the oddest sensation that if she wasn't careful, she'd find herself tumbling into those black depths, becoming the captive instead of the captor.

Lifting her hand, she reached for him, sliding her palm across his warm, granite chest, tracing his tattoo, feeling the ripple of hard muscle against her skin. Desire arced through her body. His masculine scent rose up to meet her on a rush of dark, carnal pleasure.

The animal inside him, pacing angrily, turned its head toward her in greeting.

"Don't touch me," the man snarled.

"I have no choice." She stared into those furious eyes, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "Hear me, Feral. Your only chance at survival is to cooperate with me. If you fail to prove useful, Birik will destroy you. And I don't want that."

A muscle in his jaw leaped. "Then let me go."

"I can't." Her palm slid down to his abdomen to brush the edge of the thatch of hair springing up around his root. His muscles tightened, quivering beneath her touch. "Let me mount you, warrior."

"Never." But his erection twitched, jerking. His will denied what his body craved.

What both their bodies craved. She knew he remembered as well as she did what it had been like, that slide of flesh within flesh. The pleasure...good Mother, the pleasure. She hadn't realized it could be like that. Her body had been breached more times than she could count, yet sex had never brought her anything but discomfort or pain.

Until this man walked into her life. From the moment she first saw him, her body had throbbed almost continuously, pulsing and contracting with desire, dampening her thighs. Now that passion, that power arced through the room, thickening.

The sound of a vicious animal rumbled from the Feral's throat. "That hand gets any closer to my shaft and I'll rip your head from your shoulders."

Skye released a sigh. "I don't want to force you."

"Then don't," he snapped.

"You don't understand!" If only she had the time to back off and let him calm beneath her touch for a few days. But Birik had never been a patient man. And she sensed the anger ran deep in this Feral. A few days, or even weeks, might not be enough.

"I understand all I need to," he snarled.

But he didn't. Not at all. She had no choice but to raise the passion between them in whatever way she must. Skye dipped her head to his chest, kissing his warm skin. He smelled of night forests, wild and untamed. Darting her tongue out, she tasted him, as pleased by his taste as by his scent. Everything about him made her want him more.

Moving a step to the side, she pressed her mouth to his abdomen, then to his hip bone, scenting the faint musk of his erection.

She lifted her head and looked at him, her breathing uneven, her eyes growing heavy with desire. "Can I kiss you there?"

"No."

She continued to his broad, rock-hard thigh, kissing, licking.

"Witch." His growl was still one of furious warning, but beneath the anger, passion vibrated.

"I want you inside me, warrior," she said huskily. "Just as you want me. Your body longs to press deep within mine."

"I don't want you. I never want you."

"You wanted me before. In the woods."

"That was before I knew what you were."

She sighed. He'd thought she was human. Birik had given her the ability to hide the copper rings around her irises for just that purpose.

Something had happened when they'd kissed yesterday. A strange sexual energy had passed between them, bonding them in some indefinable way. All night her body had wept for release, a release only he could give her. She'd woken knowing he'd come back to her.

And he had.

Unfortunately, Birik's orders had been as clear and sharp as a piece of cut glass. When the Feral returned, she must capture him.