TheKingsLady Page 9

  He cupped her face with strong capable hands and gently tilted her face up, his lips softly brushing over hers, sending heat spiraling down to her belly. Her mouth parted in a sigh, her mind incapable of any thoughts except for one. She needed him like no other.

  “Please, I need you now,” she whispered on a ragged breath as she broke the kiss.

  “Then you will have me.” His promise came to her equally soft, his arms pulling her closer still.

  A slow shiver traveled through her body as she felt the hard bulge of his cock against her thigh and, with a whimper, she rubbed against him with a desperation she never before experienced. All rational thought fled before the onslaught of a deep primal need to claim and be claimed in return. In the moment only a man and woman remained, the past of pain and betrayal burned away from the fire of her desire.

  His shirt tore under her nails, and she yanked it from him, the buttons popping from the force. Her fingers traveled appreciatively over the golden skin of his firm pectorals to the defined muscles of his abs and set to work undoing the button at the waist of his jeans. Her fingers shook with impatience as she attacked the zipper and shoved the offending material past his lean hips and well-muscled legs. His cock, free from its bindings, sprang hard and erect in front of her. The sight made her mouth water and thoughts of tasting him there brought a moan of appreciation to her lips.

  She jolted with surprise at the touch of cool air on her bare skin and wondered how he undressed her without her being aware, but looking at the man before her standing proud and gloriously naked, she had her answer.

  Realization smacked her upside the head in that instant. Holy Hecate, she stood just as naked in front of him, vulnerable to his inspection. She scrunched her eyes shut, her arms instinctively crossed over her breasts, and heat scoured her face in a furious blush.

  “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

  Arthur’s voice caressed her, bringing with it goose bumps up on her sensitive flesh. Fear choked the words forming in her throat. Oh, dear goddess, she couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing her so exposed. She couldn’t stand to see the look of disinterest enter his eyes as he looked at her imperfections.

  Gwen felt his hands firmly on her wrists, gently pulling her arms to her sides. She barely kept a whimper of horrified embarrassment from bursting out of her. She felt so…inadequate. So painfully aware of her flaws, the extra weight, the less than toned legs and the small belly she sported and could never get rid of, no matter how many scrunches she did.

  “By the gods, you are beautiful.”

  Gwen’s eyes flew open in shock. Did he think her so naïve as to not know better? Being the brunt of too many jokes in her lifetime, she knew better than to believe his lies. Her one and only serious relationship told her much about what men truly wanted, and she didn’t come close. His words still cut even years later when she caught him in the act with a leggy blonde who looked as if she came off a model magazine.

  “Don’t lie to me. I know what I look like,” she spat. By the startled look in his eyes, she surprised him by her vehemence.

  His only reply came as he swept her into his arms and gently brought her to the ground, his body covering hers. His head bent close to her, dark eyes intense as they held hers. Leaning on an elbow to keep most his weight off her, his free hand roamed over her jaw and down her throat.

  “Your lips beckoned to be kissed.” His lips came down on hers filled with hunger, leaving her panting for breath when he broke it off. “By the gods, your breasts are a delight, firm and full. They fill my hands perfectly.” His hand traveled to her breast, cupping it, testing the weight, and brushing one coral nipple into a stiff peak. He took the turgid tip into his mouth with a groan of pleasure, suckling hard.

  Gwen arched into him with a gasp as a burst of desire shot from her nipples to her core. He moved to the other breast, sending a second bolt to follow the first. The sensation brought her close to climax, something she never before experienced. Usually it took much more for her to orgasm, but then Arthur stood in a category above other men she knew, however few there were.

  “Your skin is like silk so soft and warm,” he whispered, sending puffs of heated breath over her skin, making her shiver with delight as he moved down her body, leaving a searing trail of kisses. “You have the body of a woman. The small swell of your belly attests to this. You are sexy and so gods damned beautiful. The man who hurt you could only be a blind imbecile.” His hands followed his mouth over her ribcage to the sharp nip of her waist. Her breathless moans followed his exploration from the curve of her hip and the small swell of her stomach and further, angling down to the thin patch of red curls hiding her sex from sight. “I’m sorry I need you too much to wait this time.”

  “No…no waiting, want you now,” she agreed on a whispered sigh as she felt him shift between her legs, the hard length of his cock pressing against the lips of her pussy.

  Taking his length in hand, he parted her lips and pushed the head of his cock inside her wet entrance. With a strong thrust of his hips, he seated himself to the hilt within her tight channel. Arthur filled her, stroking the spot deep inside as he pulled almost completely out. She felt a brief moment of loss, before he filled her again. Her legs wrapped around his waist in an effort to keep him close. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, needing an anchor as her hips rose to meet his downward thrust. The pressure built low in her belly, and her womb clenched around him.

  “Aha, Gwen, you’re a delight. So responsive, come for me, so I can watch.”

  His words triggered her orgasm and, in one brilliant burst of incandescent ecstasy, she shattered, Arthur’s name on her lips as her nails clawed into his broad back glistening in the moonlight with sweat. He plunged deeply, his hips grinding against her clit once, twice, then again, before his body locked against hers and shouted his climax, filling her with more than his physical release.

  No, as she came back to herself, she knew the thing only this man could give her was a sense of home and safety unlike no other she ever felt in any of her lives.

  With that realization, she knew she was so screwed.

  * * * *

  Arthur stared down at the woman in his arms, still buried deep in her. He felt each small contraction around his cock, sending a spike of pleasure sluicing through his veins. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he caught his breath. Gods, he still wanted more…so much more. Never with any woman did he feel such a powerful climax. The sound of his name on her lips pushed him over the edge to join her. He wanted to do it again and knew he never would get enough of both her delectable body and watching her orgasm. Her beauty mesmerized him. He felt caught in the cerulean depths of her eyes and knew he was lost. With a gentle hand, he brushed a stray lock of her hair off her face and watched in fascination as it curled around his finger.

  He moved slowly inside her, hiding a smile as a soft moan escaped her and those large incredible eyes of hers darkened with desire. Oh, yeah he could definitely get used to this.

  The small glen erupted with the jarring sound of his cell phone, its strident ring signaling the return of duty and responsibility.

  “Don’t answer it.”

  He frowned down at Gwen. “It could be something important.”

  “Or it could wait for a little while longer.”

  “I have responsibilities to my men, Gwen, what if they need me and I’m not there?”

  “I’m sure a few more minutes won’t make that much of a difference,” Gwen argued even as Arthur pulled out of her warmth and reached for the phone.

  “This better be damned good,” he barked out.

  “Well, someone has his ire up.” The heavy Irish brogue on the other end held a wealth of sarcasm.

  “What do you want, Colin. I’m busy.” Or I was, he thought. He watched Gwen out of the corner of his eye as she dressed her movements sharp and angry. Disappointment settled heavily over his chest.

  “We need you at Simon’s quarters, seems
Darius had another vision.”

  Arthur’s gut clenched, remembering all too well the last vision of Darius’s and how disastrous it turned out. If not for Gwen’s aunt, several of his men, including him, would be dead right now.

  “I’m on my way,” he all but growled into the phone.

  “And we have another wee problem,” Colin interjected before Arthur could hang up.

  “And that is?” he demanded in a rough growl.

  “It seems they brought a woman back with them from one of their favorite clubs.”

  “So, why would that be a problem? That’s SOP for those two,” he snapped his patience a distant memory.

  “Does the name Morgause have a distinctive ring for ye?”

  Arthur felt sucker punched, his mind churning with conflicting emotions at the name of a sister who betrayed him. “I’ll right there, don’t let her leave.”

  Arthur disconnected the call before Colin could say a word more and turned his attention back to a fully dressed, very pissed-off Gwen.

  “You really can’t help it, can you? There’s something in your DNA that makes you an insensitive asshole with a God complex,” she snapped at him, her anger showing in every rigid muscle in her delectable body.

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “And that’s the crux of the problem then and now.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He watched her lips tighten into a thin line, a sure sign he wouldn’t find out any time soon, and his frustration jacked up another notch. He speared his fingers through his hair in agitation, then released a heavy sigh. “Look, we’ll talk about this later, right now we have to go.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him and for a moment, he thought she would balk, but she surprised him by marching past him without a word and back onto the path leading to the house. He scrambled for his clothes, catching up to her as she left the copse of trees surrounding the beach. They made their way in silence, the tension between them growing thicker the closer they got to the house.

  As they closed in on the door leading to the hallway where her room was located, he clasped her elbow. The touch brought a shock of awareness through him, sending his blood into his still-hard cock. Gwen stopped, an eyebrow winging high on her forehead. So controlled and cold. He had the sudden urge to kiss the fire back into her veins. Of course, he didn’t have the time for it, but he would make time and very soon, he promised himself.

  “This won’t take long, then we can talk.”

  “There is nothing we need to discuss, goodnight, Arthur.”

  Her clipped tone of dismissal fed his irritation, his fingers tightening on her arm enough for her to wince. He eased the pressure, but refused to let her go. “We will discuss it later.”

  Gwen jerked out of his hold her eyes glinted with a furious light. “Oh really? You think you can order me around like your men? Good luck with that. I’m not one of your responsibilities, and I’m not an employee of yours. I am nothing you need to worry about. That should be a relief to you, so go and do whatever you need to do and leave me the hell alone.”

  With that she stomped away from him with barely controlled anger simmering in the air between them. As he watched her disappear through the door he admitted—if only to himself—he would truly enjoy having her as one of his responsibilities.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vance circled the woman who lay in a crumpled heap on his Italian marble floor. Her shoulders shook under the force of her sobs, yet oddly she didn’t make a sound. Bruises marred the creamy expanse of her arms where his men obviously held her down as she fought to get free.

  His lip curled in disgust from the sight, finding it hard to believe the pathetic wretch before him could possibly be Nimue, Goddess of Weaponry and all around one of the most evil entities he ever met.

  He grew hard just thinking about it.

  Unable to resist, he bent down and brushed her sweep of pale hair from her blotchy face with gentle fingers, letting the silken strands slip through his fingers.

  “If only you listened to me instead of seeking your petty revenge,” he crooned softly, letting his magic pour into her as he stroked her hair. “Look what came of it. You’re a dismal excuse of walking flesh.”

  Nimue’s body stiffened on a low moan of anguish. Vance smiled as his magic bored into her brain, seeking the spell her dear sister Viviane placed on her. The fact that it caused Nimue immense pain was an added bonus.

  “My, my, what a cleaver bitch your sister is. She has effectively blocked anyone from tampering with her little spell.”

  “P…please stop. I…it hurts,” Nimue groaned, her voice broken as she lifted her bloodshot eyes to meet his, silently imploring him for mercy.

  “How the mighty have fallen, eh, Nimue?” He chuckled, letting his magic retreat as he stood over her.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked in a small voice.

  He brushed imaginary lint off the cuff of his cream-colored Italian silk shirt and gave her a disgusted look. Nothing remained of the self-assured woman he knew. Instead, he saw only a puffy eyed wreck before him. It would be so easy to end her miserable existence, and a small part of him found the idea tempting as hell, but the larger part of him, the strategist, knew he needed her in case things went south, and he couldn’t acquire the witch.

  “You, my little bag of flesh, may still be of some use.” He turned his attention to one of his bodyguards standing at the door. “Take her to the oval room, see that she is fed and, by the gods, make sure she bathes, she reeks of the gutter.”

  “Wait, what are you going to do with me?” she cried out, scrambling to her feet with effort.

  “Whatever I want, you stupid bitch. Now, get her out of my sight.” Vance snarled, turning his back so he didn’t have to look at her any longer. His gaze landed on the large vase sitting on his smoked glass coffee table.

  His cell buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, ignoring the screams behind him as the guard took Nimue away. “Speak,” he barked into the phone.

  “The witch just took a car and left Penner’s property alone. You want us to pick her up?”

  A surge of satisfaction coursed through Vance. “No, not yet. Let’s see where she goes. Report back to me every half hour.”

  He disconnected the call, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Things were looking up for him and now with both Nimue and the witch within arm’s reach, he wanted to know what Arthur’s next move would be.

  When he picked up his witch, he wanted Arthur to know that he, Vance Hollister, was the one who held her life in his hands. The thought of forcing his nemesis to watch as he destroyed the witch made him positively giddy.

  Arthur would lose the battle and his reincarnated queen with one slash of his blade and bring Morgan le Fey back to this world to rule by his side.

  Life couldn’t get any better than this.

  * * * *

  Life Sucked.

  Or that is exactly how it felt to Arthur as things went from bad to catastrophic in less time it took to blink. How could a female go from soft and complacent one moment, then a spitting tempest of fury the next? Perplexed and feeling way out of his depth, he watched as Gwen stormed through the door and down the hallway. The urge for go after her was so strong he actually took a step toward the door, hand reaching for the handle. What could he say to make things better between them?

  At a loss on what to do to make amends, he decided retreat was the better part of valor. Concentrating instead on the needs of his men seemed much simpler than dealing with this particular woman.

  Because yeah, Morgause will be so much easier.

  Could the viper truly be here, under his roof? Anger ignited, burning in his bloodstream with the force of a wild fire. Whatever she plotted she would be very surprised at the outcome. He wasn’t the same idealistic youth she would remember. No, betrayals tended to make a man jaded, wary and untrusting. He wouldn’t be an easy mark this time around.

 
He should have lived his life as a monk, he thought darkly as his long-legged stride ate up the distance between him and Simon’s apartments. At least, women were forbidden in their temples, weren’t they?

  By the time he pushed open the door to Simon’s quarters, his mood could only be described as downright fowl. All talk stopped as the attention zeroed in on him. Vivian let out a small gasp and took a step back into Lancelot, whose arms wrapped around her protectively.

  He almost smiled his pleasure. Good, he didn’t feel like playing the diplomat, his mental state was much more suited to that of a seasoned warrior ready for battle. Colin raised a questioning eyebrow in Arthur’s direction while pulling Juliet closer to his side by the window and watched Arthur warily.

  His friend’s reaction didn’t register as his eyes quickly swept the room and stopped on the tall dark haired, grey eyed woman standing by the far wall. His lip curled back in a snarl.

  “What the fuck game are you playing now, Morgause? You’re not welcome here.” Her eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and fear, and a jolt of satisfaction went through him.

  “I’m here just to help. I never meant you any harm. If only you would give me the chance to explain—”

  “Do I look stupid to you?” Arthur savagely interrupted her, stalking over to her. He got right in her face, his tone filled with ice, “There is only one thing I want from you and that’s to leave my men the fuck alone.”

  “I say she stays,” Simon hissed between clenched teeth. Before Arthur could react, strong arms shoved him back. Waves of menace poured off Simon’s big body as he stepped in front of her.

  What. The. Hell?

  “Watch how you talk to her. I told Colin to call you because of Darius. Rhea is my responsibility.”

  Arthur glared at Morgause, no Rhea? Whatever she called herself these days a snake still was a snake no matter the skin it wore.