Prisoner of Desire > Book 1 Of the Desire series-
Captain Adamarik Zingh and his pirate crew have captured many a ship, pillaged their cargoes, pleasured their women, while thumbing their noses at the Dominion’s authority. But pirating is a lonely business and Adam and his men have entered a pact to set down roots, self-govern without Dominion interference, and raise families on an uninhabited planet at the edge of the known galaxy. What they need now are wives.
Evena McClure is the elected Cell Block Captain aboard a Dominion penitentiary serving her time along with nearly 400 female prisoners. When pirates overtake their ship Evena resists, mindful of her duty to protect the women. When the pirate captain offers freedom to only a hundred of the prisoners, Evena and the women form alliances to broker a deal to free more of their sisters.
The pirates and the prisoners have only a week to seduce the other side to their will.
How I got this book- I was luck enough to win this e-book while attending a chat last night. Thank You so much Delilah :)
Why I picked this one- I was givin the chance to pick a e-book from her back-list and as I looked around her site I reliased I had missed this whole series so of course I had to start with book 1.
Did I like it- Oh yeah I did. I couldn't put it down hence the review a day after I received it
General thoughts- This is a great tale of Evena McClure, an innocent prisioner who is eagerly awaiting a pardon so she can get revenge on the man who put her in prision with his misdeeds. Adamarik Zingh( Adam as he is called) is a pirate ready to settle down and have a family. He and his crew come up with the perfect plan to find the some women to be their wives on a new planet. They will go to the womens prision and break a few of them out. Adam wants Evena but does she want him enough to give up her dreams of home and revenge.
I was captived by this steamy read . Delilah Devlin's eye for detail without complete swamping you brought this space age tale to life for me. Her no-fear attitude submerged every page in sexual heat. If you like me have a love of the sci-fi and have missed this series Go.. Get it Now...
I RECOMMEND IT ...
And Now for your reading pleasure here's an excerpt
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Excerpt from Delilah Devlin site
http://www.delilahdevlin.com/
CHAPTER ONE
His communications mate pressed the intercom switch.
“Warning! You are entering Interplanetary Dominion controlled space.” The computer-generated message transmitted in the Universal Language. “This ship is a Dominion Prison. Any vessel detected within a one hundred milli-league radius of the ship will be destroyed.”
“Retract the visor,” Adam ordered, ignoring the warning.
The whirring sound that accompanied the retracting curtain of metal grated, reminding Adam of the loss of his previous spacecraft. Its state-of-the-art bioluminescent screen would have recreated the view of space without leaving the ship’s hull vulnerable.
But pirates couldn’t be too choosy. The lumbering transport vessel he now captained had enabled his band of raiders to creep close to their target, beneath the blanket of the Dominion’s detector beams. Its unremarkable appearance in this little-traveled part of the universe was a perfect ruse.
“I see her, Adam.” The man at the helm, his first mate Cantor Marlow, dipped the prow of the ship leeward. The sudden change in tack caused the old barge to shudder violently. Then a low, ominous groan from the hull itself rattled the consoles, spilling cups and charts onto the floor.
Adam maintained his balance, barely, and turned to glower at his first mate. “Cookie’ll dice your innards for that. He’ll be cleaning grub from the ceiling for a week.”
Cantor shrugged, a wicked twinkle in his eye. “I was just making sure the breaching crewmen were out of their bunks.” His gaze shifted beyond Adam. “There she is.”
Adam glanced through the open portal, searching the sky. The infinite, black night stretched before him. Full of endless possibilities. A siren’s call that had beckoned him from his first voyage.
Then he saw it. The enormous hull of the prison ship loomed in the distance — anticipation leapt in his veins. “Alert the breaching crew.”
His first mate grinned. “Lucky sods!”
Three whistles shrilled, followed by the alert message.
“Cantor, you’re in charge,” Adam called over his shoulder as he headed toward the hold of the ship.
“Aye, sir. Good luck, and don’t forget my list.”
Adam slapped his palm against the hold door button, and it slid silently open. Within the hold, the breaching crew was assembling-or at least he thought it was his crew. Gone were their beards and rough pirate’s clothing. In their place stood well-scrubbed, clean-chinned men.
His security officer, Darak, strode toward him wearing a deep, azure shirt, tucked into tan leather breeches.
“What in hell are you wearing?” Adam demanded.
“It’s just a little something I picked up at our last port of call. Alarian silk.” Darak shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “Quite sturdy material, actually.”
“You look like a peacock,” Adam complained. His gaze swept over the rest of his breaching party. “I’m capturing a ship with a bloody flock of peacocks!”
“The men await your orders, sir. They’re eager for this mission. Every one of them volunteered.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “They fought for the right to board. I’m lucky to have any crew left with blood enough for this capture. Is the breaching craft loaded?”
“Aye, aye sir. With eight days of supplies, should we need them.”
“Very well. Let’s get on with this.”
Darak pivoted on his heels. “Attention,” he shouted.
The crew leapt to obey, forming two ranks along the bulkhead.
Adam stomped down the line, his nose itching as he passed through a cloud of contesting colognes emanating from his bloodthirsty crew. “Are you planning on conquering them with smell?” he growled. As he passed his medic, his eyes watered uncontrollably. He paused, sniffing.
Doc blinked rapidly, moisture welling in his eyes. “It’s the scent of Alarian rose, sir-mixed with the pheromones of a Moldan yak. Very potent.”
“Grrr,” Adam glowered, then stomped back to the front of the formation. “We’ll enter the prison through the docking station. Be quick. Let’s have them contained before they realize we aren’t the warden and her guards. We only have a narrow window of time to get aboard undetected by the Dominion’s security system.” As he delivered his last instruction, he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t trip over your lace.”
“Captain,” Darak interjected.
“Yes, Darak?”
“Sir, the men want to know if we’re certain this is the right prison ship.”
“I paid 10,000 dinars in Earth gold for the information. If it’s not the right ship, you’d best be ready to defend your virtue.” Adam enjoyed a moment’s satisfaction as his crew absorbed the message. “We’ve eight days to survive aboard ship before the Intrepid can rendezvous again without Dominion detection.”
Another crewmember raised his hand. “Is it really a ship full of women convicts?”
“Aye, and ripe for rescue,” Darak answered, producing laughter and cheers among his shipmates.
“How long have they been deployed?” another asked.
“Over three years,” Adam answered. “They may all be dead. We might find only a ghost ship.”
“Sir.” Ivan, the science officer and youngest of his crew, raised his hand. “What if there aren’t enough suitable women aboard for our purpose?”
“If they’re fertile, they’ll suit,” he replied bluntly. “When does our window open?”
Ivan checked his wrist computer. “The asteroid, Cygnet, will block Dominion detector beams beginning in five minutes.”
“Board up!” Adam shouted. He followed his crew into the breaching craft, scratching his beard and wondering if he should have changed his clothing.
* * * * *
Before the siren finished its first warning peal, Cell Block Captain Evena McClure rolled out of her bunk and onto her feet in one fluid movement.
“Damn HS block!” Two nights running she’d answered alarms in the high security cellblock. Although tired and cranky, she raced from her quarters to the cabinet that housed the behavior modification clubs, the only weapons permitted aboard the prison ship. Slapping her palm to the security reader, she waited impatiently until the door latch popped.
At the sound of the heavy thud of her CB Sergeant’s footfalls behind her, she tossed her a weapon, and then shouldered her own club.
“Thought I’d get a decent night’s sleep for once.” Mary Grogan smiled, a flash of startling white against her dark chocolate face as she fell into step beside Evena. “You wanna bet on who’s raising a ruckus this time?”
Evena shook her head. “No, I won’t take that bet. I’d lose.”
Together, the two women rushed down the corridor leading from the guard quarters directly to the security surveillance room. Entering, Evena noted the two women on night watch standing at the viewing panels.
“Calandra, what’s the problem?”
The guard darted a glance over her shoulder. “That damn psychopath Celestine refused to don her uniform, again. I sent a couple of guards to persuade her, but she got the drop on them. Celestine’s fashioned a wire whip.” She moved to the side to allow Evena to see the viewing screen. “One guard is down. The other’s doing her best to keep out of reach.”
Evena frowned as she watched the battle in the cell. The guards’ uniforms were shredded, and one was bleeding heavily. “Damn! I’m going in.”
“Have a care. She’s slicing ribbons off them.” Calandra released the lock on the security gate to the high-risk cellblock then offered Evena a disgruntled grin. “Why don’t you just kill her? No one’ll miss that one.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but she’s not worth risking my pardon.”
Evena slid back the door and jogged toward Celestine Monteval’s cell, Mary once again at her heels. The occupants of the other cells didn’t alert their fellow cellmate, evidence that even the most extreme of the violent offenders weren’t rooting for that psychopath.
Grunts and curses sounded from the open cell door. Evena hefted her club, smacking it against her palm loudly as she stood in the doorframe.
Celestine spun toward her, then let the tail of her whip fall lax against the floor.
Evena spared a single glance at the bloodied guard, who slid down the wall, chest heaving, relief evident in her expression. A throaty chuckle drew her attention back to the problem, and her eyes narrowed.
Celestine was naked except for the tattoo of a crimson snake, which undulated across her golden skin, emphasizing a figure that would inflame a monk-which was what Evena felt like these days. Celestine’s perfect white teeth flashed in a triumphant smile. ” Captain , did I wake you?” she asked mockingly.
Evena ignored the woman’s taunt. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder at Mary. “While I keep her occupied, get the other two out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Mary, she doesn’t come out of here alive.”
Celestine’s lips thinned into a malevolent grimace, emphasized by the ominous hiss of her homemade whip slapping against the floor.
Evena cocked her head left than right, popping the vertebrae in her neck, before she said in a bored tone, “Okay Celestine, I’m going to ask you once, nicely, to get back into your uniform.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but I can’t possibly. My skin doesn’t breathe in that damn thing,” she said, smoothing a hand down her naked flank.
Evena gritted her teeth. Celestine was going to refuse every reasonable offer. However, Evena’s office demanded she offer a peaceable settlement. “Well, I’ll make a deal with you,” she said in a tone that implied she didn’t think Celestine had the intellect to understand. “You put the uniform back on, and I won’t withhold your water rations.”
A frown darkened the stunning face of the psychopath. “You can’t do that. Who made you God?”
“The majority of the women aboard the New Attica who elected me CB Captain.”
“I don’t recognize your right to order me around. You’re no better than I am.”
Oh yeah? Who’s running this ship and who’s stuck in an HS cage? Evena’s pride kept the starch in her backbone and her retort behind her teeth. “The women have given me the right. I’m responsible for order aboard this ship. My first duty is to ensure that every prisoner abides by the recycling laws.”
“Here’s what I think of your rules.” Celestine swung her arm wide, jerking it back at the top of the arc to produce a lightning crack of her whip.
Evena feinted right, narrowly escaping the razor-sharp metal.
Celestine advanced, her face red with rage. “It’s not fair. Why do you get the run of the ship, while I’m locked in here?”
“Because you’re nuts, Celestine.” Evena forced herself to stand still, pretending unconcern for her opponent’s approach. The bitch was unpredictable. While Evena was confident she could take her, and itched for an excuse to take her down, she’d die before she let Celestine to know she held a healthy respect for her brutality. “Our internal review board sentenced you to this block. I’m merely upholding their ruling.”
Celestine’s hands fisted at her sides. “I’m going fucking insane here. I’m from Arturia. I’m not made to be without a partner.”
“You tried to take the face off your last lover, Celestine.”
“The bitch threatened to leave me,” Celestine screeched. “I was just helping her on her way.”
Suddenly, the whip snaked out, wrapping around the end of Evena’s club. Celestine jerked sharply.
The tug was meant to disarm Evena, but she’d anticipated the move and pulled back hard.
Celestine cried out and let go of the whip to avoid slicing her hands open. Before it hit the floor, she leapt at Evena.
Evena took the force of her charge and rolled with it, quickly pinning the woman to the ground. Grasping Celestine’s hands, she stretched her arms above her head, and lowered her body to trap her opponent against the floor, careful to keep her face out of reach of the psychopath’s sharp teeth.
Celestine shuddered beneath her, her expression morphing from enraged to sultry in a second. “Oooh, if I’d known you were that hard-up, I’d have issued another kind of invitation, Evena.”
Evena wiped all emotion from her face. “Shut up.”
“What’s the matter? Want some?” she asked with a roll of her belly.
The smell of the woman’s sweat was pungent yet strangely enticing. Evena glowered, disgusted she’d even noticed. “I’d sooner fuck my nightstick.”
Celestine’s sultry pout grew surly, and she resumed bucking beneath Evena, nearly unseating her.
Evena shifted, clamping her forearm over Celestine’s and freeing a hand to grab Celestine’s hair. She lifted the other woman’s head off the floor, then slammed it down. “This is the way this is going down.” Thump! “I’m going to get up slowly. You’re not going to so much as twitch-” Thump! “-because if you do, Mary here is going to use her stick to lobotomize you.” She twisted her fingers into the hair and tugged hard. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” Celestine ground out.
Evena stared into the dangerous woman’s eyes until she finally turned away. “I’m going to get up now. When I say so, you can start getting your uniform on.”
“I’m not wearing it,” Celestine’s voice was petulant and small. “It smothers me.”
Evena fisted a hand in her hair, forcing her to look at her. “Listen, you spoiled little bitch! You haven’t the right to withhold your sweat or piss. If you don’t comply, you won’t get your ration of water. Do you understand me?”
Celestine snarled and pitched beneath her.
Evena’s already bad mood soured. She wished like hell the woman would lay still. It had been too long since she’d touched another person’s naked skin. That she was lying on top of a professional courtesan further frosted her ass.
Two shrill whistles sounded.
Evena’s head snapped up. “Damn. The warden.” She let Celestine’s head thump back against the floor and sprang off her.
She swept her club from the floor and shot a glance to Mary. “I’ll have to let you clean up here.”
Mary grinned, slapping her club against her palm. “My pleasure.”
With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Evena passed the HS gate and loped toward the docking station. A visit from the warden could mean news of her pardon, if she wasn’t just delivering new prisoners. At the very minimum, the prison galley would receive its quarterly shipment of protein packs and water to supplement their recycled stores.
As she approached the docking station, she heard screams from within. The door slid open and three of her guards ran out. “Captain, pirates are boarding!”
Cold dread settled in her stomach. “Get to the security room. Arm yourselves. Sound the general alert.”
Evena raised her club and entered the room. It was overflowing with men-brightly dressed men. And more were climbing through the docking port. Four of her guards were struggling wildly to escape their captors’ arms.
“Release the women,” she shouted.
All eyes turned toward her. Evena wondered whether she should’ve waited for reinforcements as one man strode toward her. Unlike his comrades, he was dressed entirely in black. His dark, disheveled hair brushed the tops of his shoulders, and a many-days-old beard-stubbled his chin. Dark eyes swept over her in a single quick appraisal, burning her skin.
Evena’s pulse pounded loudly in her ears, and a quiver of awareness fluttered deep in her belly. He was a large man, broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, and despite his wary scowl, a handsome one.
She raised her club higher and bent her knees, sinking into a fighting stance.
The bearded pirate raised a hand. “I come in peace.”
Evena’s glance dropped to the laser sword at his side, before mocking his claim with a cynical lift of her brow.
He spread his hands wide and took another step toward her. “We couldn’t be sure who would be aboard.”
She snorted. “What? You couldn’t read the warning on the portal? This is the New Attica. A prison ship. The Dominion doesn’t have a sense of humor about intruders. And weapons aren’t permitted here.”
His frown deepened, and he took another step forward. “That isn’t exactly a toothpick you wield.”
Evena resisted the urge to retreat. “I’ll repeat. You and your men have trespassed on a Dominion prison. We’ve nothing of value to steal here.”
“I take it you’re in charge?”
“Yes, and I’m ordering you to depart immediately.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that for at least another eight days, that is if we don’t want to be caught in the security beams and obliterated.”
“Not my problem.”
The corners of his lips twitched. “You’re a stubborn wench, and a bit bloodthirsty. I like that. Aren’t you curious why we’re here?”
“Nope,” she said, shifting one foot to the other. Aware of movement around her, she was unable to look toward it, as the bearded man was within the reach of her club now. “Like I said, we’ve nothing here of value.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re here to conduct a little business with you and your fellow inmates.”
“Then you’ve wasted your time. What exactly do you think we have to bargain with?”
“Yourselves.”
“Explain that before I beat in what’s left of your brains.”
“Very well. We seek wives.”
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And now for the Peeking
Delilah has a new book coming out Tomorrow so I thought we'd take a peek cause I adore Delilah's writing
MY IMMORTAL KNIGHT: FIRST KNIGHT
Ellora’s Cave
eISBN: 978-1419927836
Format: eBook
On Sale: April 28, 2010
While hiding her true identity, Maddie must seduce the mysterious Lord Garon to cement their marriage contract to ensure she won’t be returned into her lecherous stepfather’s care.
Fresh from Crusade in Palestine, Lord Garon has a secret he must hide, a hunger that must be fed, and a dark and uncertain future. Having shed himself of a fiancée he never met, he’s home to lick his wounds. The only thing he wants is a warm-blooded meal—but the new housekeeper is strangely insistent on giving him much more.
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Excerpt-
Maddie shivered at the creaks and groans the portcullis made as it slowly rose. The rain-laden wind carried the noises and filled the silences in between with a howling that sounded like the hounds from hell had arrived at the castle gate.
Shouts outside the curtain wall had alerted them only minutes before of Lord Garon d’Albermarle’s arrival. With only a bliaut over her sleeping shift, Maddie stood on the first step of the keep, holding a tray with a goblet of wine, ready to offer a proper greeting to her overlord.
“Are you sure this is the way you wish to go about this, M-Maddie?” Egbert asked, fidgeting at her side.
She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth and nodded.
“It be on your head then,” he said, his always-mournful tone as dire as one of Father Ansel’s Sunday sermons. She sent thanks above that the cranky priest was away or her deception wouldn’t last past the introductions.
The clatter of dozens of hooves on the cobbled bridge beyond the gate filled the castle yard with thunder. From the encroaching darkness, the sounds were as ominous as the dark shapes looming on the gatehouse walls. The torches she’d ordered lit sputtered and flared, distorting and elongating shapes so the men riding through the entrance appeared as tall as giants.
Already tired and on edge because she hadn’t slept since a messenger had arrived, warning the castle of his lordship’s arrival days before, Maddie’s fevered imagination painted them darker and larger still.
“Be they devils?” Egbert asked, his narrow shoulders shaking. “No one travels on a night with nary a speck of light in the sky.”
“Hush!” The storm whipping at her clothing and the fatigue from months of worry over this very moment combined to make her hands shake and blackened an already foul mood.
The horsemen entered the bailey and a large figure separated from the contingent who approached the keep. As he drew closer, her fears weren’t eased one whit. The warrior sat atop a huge black destrier, forcing her to raise her gaze quite high to seek his face.
He wore a helm that left only his square jaw exposed. The darkness cast by the metal nose guard concealed his eyes. Only his mouth gave a hint of his mood—a thin, straight line with the corners crimped downward.
Under his stare, Maddie’s knees trembled but her tray never rattled. She squared her shoulders and shot a glance about her at the castle folk. “Stephen!” she called to the stable master. “See to their horses.”
In moments, boys scrambled to accept reins, and the creak of leather and the clank of iron filled the air.
The stable master himself approached the dark warhorse at the foot of the steps but the mounted warrior’s gaze never left Maddie.
She licked dry lips with an even dryer tongue. “Lord Garon?” she asked, although there could be no question who led this contingent. All gazes remained on his intimidating figure. “Please come inside, milord. Your people will see to the comfort of your men.”
His mouth twisted. “And who will see to mine?”
Maddie’s heart leapt to the back of her throat. “I will, milord.”
A long pause indicated he looked her up and down. “And who might you be, madam?” he asked, his voice a deep, hollow rumble.
Maddie remembered to curtsy and then straightened, girding herself to speak the lie aloud. “Your housekeeper. I take care of things now.” The latter, at least, was the truth.
Lord Garon grunted. Without a glance at the stable master, he tossed down his reins and dismounted.
When he turned toward her, Maggie’s breath caught. Lord, he’s a tall man. I thought it was just the horse.
Maddie lifted the ornate chalice from the tray to deliver her much-rehearsed welcome.
Instead, his lordship’s lips pressed into a tighter line and he brushed past her.
She was left gasping on the bottom step. “What a rude ogre!” she exclaimed, annoyed he hadn’t fallen in line with the first step of her plan.
“Watch your tongue, madam,” an accompanying knight said tersely as he followed the lord up the steps. “He has exceptional hearing.”
“M-Maddie?” Egbert said, nodding toward the door.
She shoved the tray at his belly and grasped her skirts high to rush up the steps.
The plan had seemed so simple. All she needed was to get him alone and addle his sight with a little wine or ale so he’d not care she wasn’t the comeliest creature in the keep. Then she would seduce him.
And the sooner, the better. The longer she took losing her virginity, the greater the risk he would discover her identity. The truth was, she would rather copulate with the devil himself than be returned home.
However, this business of copulation, which had seemed a simple, messy, perhaps even enjoyable act, according to the cook, now promised to be a daunting trial.
The lord of the keep turned out to be a giant and as dour as a priest at confession. The thought of being naked with him and accepting his manstaff into her body frankly petrified her.
She rushed through the massive doors, hoping her preparations would meet with his approval. Nothing else could be allowed to mar her well-thought-out plan.
His lordship stood in the center of the hall, hands on hips. Unlike his men, he wore no chain mail, only a leather hauberk to protect his body. He’d removed his headgear, revealing hair a black as midnight and a face as hard as carved granite.
He was everything she’d remembered and more—more frightening, more imposing—and more beautiful because of the differences. Thanks be to God, he hadn’t recognized her.
His gaze narrowed on the hall and she looked around to see what might have displeased him already.
Around him, servants scurried, delivering warm food to the men-at-arms as boys eagerly divested them of their armor. If she hadn’t been observing him so closely, she might not have detected the change in his posture. He scarce seemed to notice the din of activity. His mouth lost a little firmness, his hands unclenched on his hips and his chest rose and fell deeply.
In that instant, Maddie lost a measure of her fear. Here was a man savoring his first night home after a long absence. He had a heart and cared for something at least. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a complete troll when making her his wife.
Garon shut out the noises swirling around him and breathed in the scents of his home. The smells remained unchanged even after eight years away—wood smoke from the hearth, the moist mustiness clinging to the stone walls, roasted meat and women.
Unchanged from his memory, but enhanced by his “affliction”.
Now he could easily discern pheasant from roast beef, sage from rosemary—the laundress’s ripened odor from the housekeeper’s more delicate musk, which wafted in the air behind him where she hovered.
His sight was as improved as his scent. Even the darkest corners, far from the blazing torches in their sconces, were revealed in varying shades of gray—crisp as the autumn air outside. Outside, in the dark, the housekeeper’s eyes had been pale in her pinched, pallid face. He wondered now whether they were blue or hazel.
Sounds reverberated on the walls, a steady rumble of quiet conversations punctuated with sharp bursts of laughter. But the only sound that had raised his interest since his arrival was that of the housekeeper’s heart as she’d waited on the steps of the keep—an agitated tattoo indicating fear despite her calm demeanor.
She’d called him an ogre. If she knew the true nature of the beast, her trepidation would become terror.
“Milord, I’ve secured sustenance for you in your chamber,” Raymond, his captain-at-arms, murmured beside him.
Garon thanked God every day that he and Raymond had met on a faraway battlefield and discovered a connection that bound their destinies. Without him, he’d never be able to sustain this ruse.
“So quickly? I am hungry and thought I’d have to make do.” The throbbing hunger building in his belly had been nearly unbearable the last score of miles.
“Sisters. A friendly pair. They approached me. Said you’d remember them.”
He did. Sturdy, lusty blondes. Their names escaped him, but he well remembered how they used to play in his chamber, offering him hours of sensual delight. This time, however, the play would be quick, even deadly if he couldn’t harness his appetite. “You will wait outside the door and listen in case I have need of you.”
“Yes, milord. If the silence is overlong…”
Garon gave him a sharp, grim nod and turned toward the stairs.
The housekeeper waited at the bottom step, her hands worrying the frayed end of the braided rope securing the castle’s keys around her waist. Her shoulders straightened at his approach. “I’ve ordered a bath sent to your chambers.”
“Later. My man will tell you when I am ready.” He moved to brush past her, doing his best to ignore the heavenly scent of her skin and the pulse that throbbed at the base of her white throat. Her startled eyes were indeed hazel and too innocent for his purposes.
Light brown eyebrows lowered in a frown. “But, milord, the water’s already set to boil. It will be no bother—”
He continued up the stairs, catching a murmured curse from the woman.
So eager to please. She must wonder if her position was secure. At the death of his steward two years past, he’d been informed by courier that another had taken over the management of the estates. As she seemed to be the one in charge, he assumed she was capable, for the land he’d passed through had shown signs of a recent orderly harvest, and the keep was clean, the servants exacting in their care. Tomorrow night, he would tell the woman her place was safe. He had little interest or ability in seeing to the daily running of the estate.
That she was a woman filling a man’s shoes was only an annoyance. Dealing with her reports on a nightly basis would test his patience and he’d have to learn a measure of trust, which would be trial in itself.
He’d learned the hard way that a woman could best a man without using brute force. Sly intelligence and seductive wiles could win the battle when a man’s attention was centered between her legs. He had lost nearly everything to one such heathen bitch—a Saracen’s whore with a thirst for blood.
He shoved open the door of his chamber and hunger instantly clawed at his belly, rumbling loudly.
A fire blazed in the brazier in the far corner. The twins lay naked, warming the covers of his bed. Older now, their figures were a little overblown and fleshy, but their lips still curved in welcome. His body clenched as hunger overrode his caution. He climbed quickly onto the mattress to lie between them. The problem of how to take one without the other screaming the roof down about his ears was less of a concern than feasting on the bounty before him.
“Shall we undress you?” the one with a mole above her lip asked as she scooted closer.
“Later,” he growled, earning delighted giggles from the women. He twisted her body over his, her blonde hair forming a curtain to conceal the nature of his “taking”. Her screech of delight ended in a shocked squeak as he bit into the tender flesh of her neck.
“Milord?” she whispered, her hands pressing against his collarbone for a moment before her fingers curved into his shoulders, clutching him closer. She moaned and her hips ground into his erection.
“All that from just a kiss?” the other said, a plaintive note in her voice. “Save a little for me, Anne.”
Garon’s hands fisted in Anne’s hair, holding her still while he drew blood from the twin piercings at the side of her throat, sucking hard to assuage his hunger. Tasting of salt and copper, her blood coated his tongue, filled his throat and spread warmth throughout his body.
He sucked harder and she cried out, the rapture overtaking her body to set it trembling above his. As her hips ground harder into his, he widened his legs, and slipped a hand to her buttocks, kneading her generous mounds, and then pressing the hard bone of her mons against his cock. He matched her rhythm, bucking against her writhing body to ease the second hunger growing inside him.
A sharp knock on his chamber door penetrated his bliss-fogged mind and he withdrew his teeth, lapping her neck to clean away the smears of blood and close the small wounds he’d inflicted.
She murmured sleepily and burrowed her head against his shoulder, her hips slowing as she fell asleep.
He reached out to snag the other sister, dragging her to his side. When she aimed a kiss at his mouth, he turned from it, not wanting her to discover the length of his teeth, and dragged his lips along her throat. She moaned and nestled closer to his side.
A knock sounded again. He turned toward the door. “Yes, Raymond,” he shouted. “All is well.”
The door flung open and the housekeeper stomped into the room, her eyes widening at the sight of the two naked women. Her mouth gaped and then shut with an audible snap. Her gaze rose above the bed as though she were examining the ceiling for cobwebs. “I’ve brought your bath,” she said, her voice tight, red flags of color staining her cheeks.
With the sharpness of his bloodlust dulled, Garon’s carnal appetites arose full-blown—called to life by the shock and outrage warring in the mousy housekeeper’s expression.
Why her face and reed-thin form should appeal didn’t matter. That he had to have her and wipe away that look of disgust pouting her full lips did.
Garon’s mouth curved in wicked delight. “A foursome then?”
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Contest Info
And I just wanted to let you all know - In celebration of her new release Delilah Devlin is running a contest on her blog
http://www.delilahdevlin.com/blog/ for a chance to win a handmade ribbon-and-bead bookmark and a signed copy of the backlisted book of your choice from my Ellora’s Cave selection. So pop on by now cause it ends 4/28 I believe .
