The Nymph King (Atlantis #3)(64)

"Yes."

They encountered a fork, and Brenna swerved right. Shaye followed. God, she hoped this was the right direction. If Valerian caught her... The walls looked the same to her. Doorways branched in every direction. They raced past other women, other warriors. The men regarded them with curiosity, but didn't try to stop them.

Then, suddenly, steal clamps anchored onto her waist and she was thrown into the air. Her arms flailed. She screamed. Brenna ground to a halt and whipped around just as Shaye's legs kicked out, reaching for a solid foundation. As she fell, she screamed again.

Strong arms caught her, wrapping around her and locking her in place. She was panting and didn't allow herself to meet Valerian's angry gaze. Or look down at his wet, aroused body.

"When a warrior runs from his commander," he said ominously, "he is punished. Are you ready for your punishment, Shaye?"

VALERIAN ESCORTED BRENNA to Shivawn without a word. The warrior accepted her with a frown and a muttered, "Thank you, great king," and then they were off. Shaye had never been so nervous. This was the first time Valerian had ever projected such bleak fury in her direction.

And yet, she was oddly relieved that she'd failed to escape.

"Go back to your duties," Valerian growled to the soldiers watching in the hallway.

His men jumped into motion, looking anywhere but at his naked form. Looking anywhere but at Shaye, who was carted unceremoniously over his shoulder. "Valer - "

"Do not speak," he snapped at her.

"Valerian," she persisted. "I told you I would try to escape. You can't say I didn't warn you. At least I didn't lie to you. We'll always be honest with each other, remember?"

"I gave you what you wanted, Shaye. I did not press you to make love, and yet you ran from me." Valerian still couldn't believe her daring. He stalked to his room and tossed her onto the bed. She gasped. He stood in place, staring down at her. She didn't try to run again, just watched him warily.

Light as she was, carrying her shouldn't have affected him. But he was panting. His arms fell to his sides, and he realized just how quickly he was losing strength.

He needed sex.

He needed Shaye.

He'd felt her watching him during his bath. Had smelled her desire for him. He'd thought victory was within his grasp. And then she'd run. Run! Was the thought of welcoming him into her body that abhorrent to her?

"The time has come," he said darkly.

She scrambled to the far edge of the bed, as if the spell of motionlessness she'd been under had lifted with his words. He continued to stare down at her. Her overlarge shirt gaped open, revealing succulent hints of her breasts.

"Let's talk about this," she said nervously.

"You tried to escape me. The time for conversation is over."

"Couples should always make time to chat."

One brow winged up. "We are a couple now?"

She kept her gaze on his chest, not daring to look down, where he was thick and ready. He watched a tremble sweep through her. In fear? In desire? Something inside him lurched. He sighed heavily. Would she always tie him in knots? He tried a different approach.

"You look so beautiful on my bed, moon, with your hair draped over your shoulders, your legs stretched in front of you. But... "

"But?" she prompted, frowning.

"But you will look even better on me." He let his knees fall on the mattress, followed by his hands. Slowly he crawled forward.

Eyes wide, she tried to scoot back even farther. The wall blocked any escape. "Stop," she said. She sounded breathless. Eager. "Just stop."

"You feel the connection between us, I know you do."

Her teeth ground together, and a flash of something dark settled over her expression. "So what if I do?" she snapped. "That doesn't mean I want to sleep with you."

"Innocent moonbeam, neither of us will be sleeping." His gaze swept over her, and he suddenly wished he possessed the fire of the dragons so he could burn away her clothing. "I know you have never been with a man, but have you ever engaged in love play?"

Stubborn as always, she pressed her lips together. "That's none of your business."

"I do not smell any man on you, not even the faintest hint."

"I - I lied to you earlier, okay." She studied her nails, yawned with exaggeration. "I've been with lots of men. Thousands."

He paused, his hands on either side of her knees. That she didn't try to kick him was more telling than she probably knew. Some part of her wanted him.

Untouched echoed through his mind. His mate was untouched by any man. He would be her first. Her only. He'd be careful with her. "I like that you are virgin, moon."

She flicked a piece of lint off her shirt. "I don't like the fact that you are a male whore, Valerian."

"I am sorry that I do not come to you pure." Nymphs never saved themselves for their mates; they were too sexual, their needs too great. But now he wished to the gods that he'd waited for her. "Perhaps every other woman was merely practice for the day I met you."

She swallowed, bit her lip. Her nipples hardened beneath the shirt, and she could no longer pretend boredom. "That's, like, the corniest line I've ever heard."