Forbidden Craving Page 5

  How could one person be so...delicious?

  He had perfect sandy brows, perfect crystalline eyes framed with spiky black lashes and a perfect nose. His lips were plump and pink—and perfect.

  Confidence clung to him like a second skin, making him the most sensually erotic creature she’d ever seen. Even better—or worse!—he radiated primal ferocity.

  “We are home.” Gently, so gently, he traced his fingertips over her face to wipe away the water.

  She stood completely still, not encouraging him but not rebuking him, either. His touch reverberated through her like a live wire, hot and scorching.

  “This isn’t my home,” she said. “I live in Cincinnati.”

  “You used to live in Cincinnati. Now you live with me in Atlantis, the capital of the gods’ finest creations. Home to nymphs, vampires, Amazons and many other races.”

  Wait. Wait, wait, wait. She blinked rapidly as her mind attempted to make sense of his words. Atlantis...the city buried under the ocean? Like the ocean she’d just exited? Her mouth went dry. No way. Just no way.

  “Home of nymphos and vampires? You’re lying,” she grated. “Why are you lying?”

  He frowned at her. “I told you. I’ll never lie to you. And I’m a nymph. Nymph.”

  “Well, guess what? You’re my abductor, so I’ll never believe you.”

  His frown deepened. “Do you have another explanation for entering the sea and appearing here?”

  “Yes. I drowned,” she told him. “You killed me. But someone—a human—found my body and restarted my heart. Only, I’m in a coma and my brain is short-circuiting.”

  The corners of his beautiful mouth twitched. “If that’s true, I’m nothing but a dream. A midnight fantasy. You can enjoy me without fear of the consequences.”

  Dang him. He had an excellent point. “You’re right. I can murder you and avoid jail time.”

  His smile bloomed full force, causing a precious gasp of breath to snag in her lungs. “You and you alone have cart blanche with my body. If you’ll receive pleasure from my pain, then you may hurt me any way you’d like. You can always kiss me better...”

  Did nothing faze him?

  Choose your attitude. “No, thank you,” she muttered. “To everything.”

  “Men,” he called, his penetrating stare never veering from her face. “Escort the women to the dining hall. The ceremony will soon begin.”

  “Ceremony?” she asked.

  With an air of eager anticipation, the warriors leaped into action. One of them tried to grab her arm, but Valerian stopped him with a feral, “I’ll escort this one,” even as she slapped at the offender’s hand.

  “As you wish, my king.”

  King? King!

  Footsteps echoed through the cavern.

  Once again, the women were all smiles, happily trailing their captors.

  “Who do you desire?” one warrior asked another.

  “The redhead. Her breasts are...”

  Their chatter faded.

  A single man remained behind. Or perhaps he’d been waiting in the cave. He wasn’t drenched like everyone else, his white shirt and tight black pants completely dry.

  Valerian released her from his stare to face the remaining warrior. “How are the prisoners?” he asked.

  Prisoners? Her eyes widened, and she clutched at her throat, the barbed lump back in place.

  The man gave a brusque answer in that odd language Valerian had used earlier, but he—the freaking king—shook his head. “Speak in the human tongue.”

  “Alive,” the man responded with a frown.

  Human tongue.

  That wasn’t the first time he’d referred to her as a human, implying he himself was something else entirely. Like the creature of myth he claimed to be...

  “Have they given you any trouble?” Valerian asked.

  “None at all, my king.”

  “Very good. Continue to see to their needs.” He waved in dismissal, scowled, then called the man back. “Has there been any word about our females?”

  “None.”

  “Very well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “On with you.”

  The man nodded and clomped off, leaving her alone with her abductor.

  “What prisoners?” Shaye asked on a trembling breath. Would she end up in a prison cell?

  “Dragon shape-shifters. Killers.”

  Dragon shape-shifters. Valerian is insane, plain and simple.

  He traced his knuckles along her cheekbone, and she shivered. The water in his hair had dried somewhat, lightening the locks to a rich, honey gold. Several strands fell over his forehead. Part of her longed to reach up and smooth those strands away.

  Part of her was clearly insane.

  “Do not fear,” he added, “for the dragons won’t be allowed near you. Some are to be gifts for my friend Layel, and some are to be used as bargaining chips.”

  His delusions were more than her fragile mind could deal with right now. “The ceremony,” she repeated. “Tell me.”

  In an instant, he radiated possessive intensity without a hint of amusement.

  “The men,” he said, “will chose their lovers.”

  She’d been right. Sex slaves. “And if the women protest?” she croaked.

  “They won’t.”

  Too cocky! “But if they do?”

  His frown returned. “They’ll never be forced.”

  Truth or lie? “What if they’re too scared to protest?”

  He thought for a moment. “If you’d like to speak with every woman before she joins her warrior, to ascertain her desires for yourself, you may.”

  The offer surprised her.

  He flattened his hands on the boulder behind her, caging her in. Electric shocks skittered through her.

  Icy rock at her back, pure heat in front.

  “What are you doing?” She hated the breathless quality in her voice.

  “Right this moment? Wishing you were kissing me. In a few seconds from now, showing you our world.”

  He twisted his wrists, and the huge rock wall slid backward. She would have stumbled, but Valerian caught her by the waist and turned her, his chest pressing against her spine.

  The contact delighted her body while irritating her mind.

  She watched, flabbergasted, as the wall descended, a smooth, glassy crystal suddenly exposed. Her jaw dropped as water flowed behind the enclosure, and sand swirled at the sea’s bottom. Pink coral and multicolored fish danced a lazy waltz around emerald plants.

  “Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Warmth fanned the back of her neck.

  As she peered out, trying to come to grips with the bounty before her, a gorgeous woman swam up to the crystal. No, not a woman. Shaye gasped. A mermaid. A bare-chested, tail-wagging mermaid.

  Her knees shook. The creature frowned...until her gaze latched on to Valerian. She smiled and waved, pleasure gleaming in her eyes.

  “You know her?” Shaye managed to say.

  He nodded but didn’t elaborate.

  The woman—mermaid—had the face of an angel, innocent, lovelier than a long-awaited sunrise. Long black hair curled around delicate shoulders and lush breasts. Her tail glimmered like spun glass, different shades of violet, yellow, green and pink creating a kaleidoscope of color on every scale.

  “Do you believe me now?” Valerian asked.

  How could she not?

  “I...do.” The admission left her on a ragged breath.

  She had been transported to a mythical world. The man behind her wasn’t human but a nympho—oops, a nymph.

  “What’s the difference between a nymph and a nympho?” The words trembled as they left her.

  “Nymphs are—everything! Ever
ything is different.”

  Basically, they were the same. A sexual being, both seductive and irresistible. Obsessed with sex. Or rather, addicted to sex. Probably willing to sleep with anything that moved. Perhaps able to give pleasure to others with only a glance...or a whispered word. Definitely beauty personified.

  Valerian fit the description completely, and that frightened her so much more than if he’d said he was a soul-sucking demon from the deepest depths of hell.

  Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.

  Another mermaid joined the brunette, this one a symphony of curves. She pressed herself against the crystal and offered a wanton smile to Valerian, passion glazing her amethyst eyes.

  Bet the lovelies were thinking Score! Three-way.

  “Take me home, Valerian.” Please. Tremors rocked her. Where had her numbness gone? “I don’t belong here.”

  “You do.” The rocky wall returned to its place, gradually hiding the mermaids, who were banging on the crystal. “We belong together.”

  “No.” Shaye angled her head to give him the dreaded side-eye. “We don’t even know each other.”

  “A fact I look forward to changing.” His husky tone beguiled, promising endless nights of passion and days of wild abandon.

  Resist. Flee. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “No, thank you.”

  “Give me a chance. One chance. Please.”

  Had a man ever begged for her attention before?

  Stay strong. “I did,” she said. “I gave you the chance to leave me behind and respect my wishes. Had you, I might have agreed to a date. But you didn’t. Now I want nothing to do with you.”

  He rested his forehead against her shoulder.

  A position of defeat? A pang cut through her chest. Why? Why should his pain affect her?

  Act! Act now!

  Shaye wrenched from his embrace and sprinted toward the whirlpool. Her sandals dug into rocks and twigs. Breath caught in her throat, burning. Almost there...just one more step...

  Valerian grabbed her by the arm, stopping her.

  “No!” She kicked his shin.

  “If you enter the portal without me, you’ll die.” The words held an unmistakable edge of fury, his grip tightening on her. “You’ll never be able to swim to the surface alone. Do you understand? You’ll die out there, your body nothing more than fish food.”

  She stilled, panting, the blood in her veins chilling. The water...how could she have forgotten the water?

  “Is death preferable to my pursuit?” he asked.

  “If I’m to be a captive, yes!” She’d fought hard for her independence and would relinquish it to no one.

  A heavy pause stretched between them. Valerian radiated both sadness and anger.

  Sadness? The pang returned to her chest, and she sputtered with indignation.

  “I can’t live aboveground,” he said, “and I don’t want to live without you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. I... I...” Had no idea how to respond. “How many human girls have heard those words from your lips?”

  Don’t know how to respond, so you go with jealousy? You are ridiculous!

  “One. Only one. And I haven’t yet learned her name.”

  “Up yours,” she said. He couldn’t mean the things he was saying to her. He just couldn’t. “That’s what you can call me.”

  He sighed. He secured her against him, his body an impenetrable force. “Come then, Up Yours, and I’ll show you the palace.”

  As he ushered her up a crudely built staircase, she offered no more protests. She needed time to consider her options.

  Try to find another way home?

  Was there another way?

  Make nice with Valerian and enjoy his pampering while it lasted?

  Save the dark-haired girl who’d looked as upset by the circumstances as Shaye?

  Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!

  Shaye studied the markings on the wall to help her find her way back—just in case. The higher up she traveled, the less jagged the rocks became...until the walls appeared to be dusted with glitter. She brushed her fingertip over the smooth surface, leaving a mark behind. Her own personal bread crumb.

  Valerian stopped abruptly, causing her to bump into his back. Fiery, full-body contact. She gasped as he backed her into the wall, his frown fierce, his crystalline eyes gleaming with purpose.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be planning your escape, would you?”

  She arched a brow. “What do you think?”

  “I think your determination matches mine.”

  “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

  “What do you think?” he asked, mocking her. He brushed the tip of his nose against hers.

  An innocent action and yet her bones liquefied.

  Dang it! Where’s my armor?

  “What if I promise not to try to escape?” she asked. She didn’t plan to try; she planned to succeed.

  Another brush of his nose against hers. “I would want to believe you, but still I would doubt you. Trust between us will take time, but it will come. I know this.”

  Even as deluded as he was, considering he thought a happily-ever-after—or happily ever until-the-new-wears off—was possible between a captor and his captive, he still understood trust had to be earned.

  Ugh. Was she hoping to give herself permission to like him?

  Probably. Because, with every second that passed, some of her animosity faded.

  I’m a fool!

  All right. It was clearly time to do what her therapist had told her never to do: use a snotty attitude to create distance with the people around her.

  Cruel to be kind...to myself.

  She lifted her chin. “What happens if I want to hook up with one of your men?”

  His brow furrowed. “Hook up?”

  “You know, get my groove on. Offer myself up on a silver platter. Do the dirty bump and grind.”

  Rage exploded inside his eyes. “You will not hook up with one of my men. Ever.”

  “Wrong! My body. My choice.”

  His nostrils flared as he fought for control and oh, wow, the sight actually...turned her on. He wanted to keep her all to himself.

  “You’re mine,” he grated.

  “Actually, I’m mine.”

  “Fine. I’m willing to share you with you and only you.”

  She almost—almost—laughed. “How kind of you,” she muttered.

  “Yes. I’m very kind.” He stepped back and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

  The distance...displeased her, the most feminine parts of her body actually pouting.

  She peered at his blunt-tipped fingers...at the calluses and scars slashed across his palm, a contrast to his otherwise flawless beauty. As strong as he was, he could have killed her at any moment. He could have crushed her and yet he’d been nothing but gentle with her.

  Oh, yes. I’m a fool.

  She willingly twined her fingers with his—and gasped. A blast of heat slammed into her. Tingles raced over her.

  She tried to tug away from him, to sever the connection, but he held tight. He even lifted her knuckles to his lips and kissed.

  The heat—a thousand degrees worse.

  The tingles—a thousand times stronger.

  “You are precious to me,” he said. “The one I’ve been searching for all the days of my life.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, battling the pleasure his declaration had wrought. “Are you saying you...love me?”

  “No. Not yet. But I have no doubt love for you will come.”

  “How?” No one had ever loved her. “How can you believe that?”

  “Every nymph has a fated mate, and you are mine.”<
br />
  “I don’t understand,” she rasped. “I don’t understand at all.”

  “You will. In time.”

  The words—a warning? a promise?—rang in her head as he led her up the rest of the stairs. At the top, two gleaming crystal doors slid open.

  They traveled down a series of long, winding hallways. Luxurious hallways. Gold brick walls had been draped with strands of emeralds that wound this way and that to resemble ivy. Alabaster columns were decorated with fist-size diamonds that had been carved to look like roses in full bloom. From the ceiling hung multiple chandeliers, each in the shape of a dragon’s head, crimson-colored crystals dripping from fangs that might have been fashioned from pearls.

  The magnificence overwhelmed her.

  “Do you like your...the palace?” he asked. “We’ll be replacing the chandeliers with a less hideous design.”

  “It’s beautiful. It’s all beautiful.”

  They turned a corner, vivid wall murals coming into view. Each scene showcased a man, doing something kind for a woman. Feeding her grapes. Undressing her. Bathing her.

  “I had to paint over dragon portraits,” he said, noticing where her attention was fixed.

  “You painted these?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your talent is...” Compliment her captor? No! “Decent.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Perhaps you’ll pose for me one day.”

  Her heart rate increased. Had nothing to do with Valerian, of course. She’d obviously developed an early-onset heart arrhythmia.

  “Why did you take the palace from the dragons?” she asked, desperately returning to the previous topic of conversation. The safer topic.

  “Nymphs have always been natural wanderers. For centuries, we flittered from one location to the other in search of our next sexual conquest, but I grew weary of such an existence. I wanted more for myself and more for my people.”

  “Why? What changed?” According to her therapist, transformation required a catalyst.

  “A sense of restlessness plagued me for months. I knew if I wanted a better life, I had to do something different. This is my different.”