The Nymph King a-3 Read online

  On a startled gasp, she spun and faced him. "Really? You'll take me home? Now?"

  He drank her in, struck anew by the beauty of her. How could one woman make him ache so intensely? Make him forget everyone who had come before her until only she existed?

  Reaching out, he held his palm face-up. "Will you come with me willingly?"

  Suspicion suddenly blanketed her features. But even that did not detract from her beauty. "You're not lying to me?"

  "Never."

  For a long while, she did nothing. Then, she tentatively placed her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined, a perfect fit.

  He knew she'd misunderstood his intentions; this was her new home. But he said nothing. Not yet.

  Joachim growled and held out his own hand to Shaye. Seconds ticked by as she stared at it. Every muscle in Valerian's body clenched. If she took Joachim's hand, she would encourage the man's attentions. She would disprove the validity of Valerian's declaration.

  One heartbeat passed. Then another.

  She leveled Valerian with an exasperated glance. "Well. What are you waiting for? Let's go. If we hurry, I'll be able to make my flight back to Cincinnati."

  Flight? She could fly? Surely not. He pushed away his confusion and concentrated on his surprise. She'd ignored Joachim and his proffered hand as if they didn't exist. But him, she asked for aid. Inside, Valerian howled with triumph.

  "Crosse," he called to one of the remaining men. "Prepare the room next to mine." Hopefully, the loyal man would know what he truly desired—the removal of all traces of the human women he'd pleasured last eve. Unfortunately, they hadn't limited themselves to the main chamber. Shaye erupted at the slightest hint of carnality, and he did not want her upset.

  Crosse nodded, cast a wistful glance at the two remaining women and rushed to obey.

  Joachim, who hadn't moved, at last dropped his arm to his side. "Best you be cautious, woman, and treat me with care." His voice was low, gritty. "I might change my mind and choose to take you now."

  "At odds already." Valerian tsked under his tongue, though he really wanted to attack.

  "Why don't both of you go to hell and save me the trouble of sending you there?" Shaye said, radiating absolute innocence. Total sweetness. "Now, be a good boy and take me home like you promised, Valerian."

  He glimpsed Joachim's astonished gaze and fought a grin. That sharp tongue of Shaye's just might save them. He turned back to the others. "Terran, Aeson, you may choose between the final two." As they cheered, he faced Shaye and said, "This way." He led her into the hallway.

  A few of the warriors, he noticed, had not made it to their rooms. Some were in the process of making love to their new women right there in the hall, while others had simply pushed their lovers against the wall and were feasting between their legs. Moans, purrs and groans of delight echoed.

  "My God," Shaye gasped out.

  Such a sight was common in a nymph household, but he did not mention that to Shaye.

  With her close on his heels, and Joachim close on hers, he ushered her past the kitchens, past the training arena, past the warriors' barracks—where more moans and purrs abounded.

  "Do they ever stop?" Shaye muttered darkly.

  Shock and—was that desire?—laced her voice. Yes, he realized. Yes, it was. The shock amused him. The desire excited him on a primal level. If she were his, he would have vanquished the first and leisurely explored the second right then and there. Soon, he swore. Soon.

  His chambers were situated in a hall away from the rest of the palace. Each room was spacious, with a large bathing pool, an immense bed and a panoramic wall of windows that offered a breathtaking view of the Outer City below.

  "Thank you for agreeing to take me back," Shaye said. "I know you don't want to, and I'm grateful."

  He'd never heard such a gentle, tender tone from her. She even wore an expression of genuine gratitude, the sweetness of it softening her features and gifting her with bright radiance. He could not allow her to wallow in false assumptions any longer. "I'm not taking you back to your world, moon. I'm taking you to your home. Your new home."

  She hissed in a stream of air; her nails dug into his flesh. "You knew what I thought, you misleading bastard."

  "Does she always speak this way?" Joachim asked, voicing his first doubt.

  "Always," Valerian and Shaye snapped in unison.

  "I'm not staying in your room," she growled to Valerian. "I told you that already."

  He had to drag her (gently, of course) the rest of the way. Joachim watched the interaction with an unreadable expression. Finally they reached the outskirts of Valerian's rooms.

  Crosse exited the main doorway, swishing the wispy material that hung there. His features were flushed with pleasure; his eyes were closed in surrender as he blindly felt his way out.

  Having caught his scent, the three naked human women chased after him and trapped him in a circle. Instantly their hands were all over him, touching and caressing his back as they moaned in eagerness. In impatience.

  Seeing them, a plan sprouted thick roots inside Valerian's mind—and it irritated him that he was reduced to planning and scheming to have a woman who should, by all rights, be panting for him. He was a king. A leader. His word was law. "Take whichever woman you desire, Crosse, and go to bed."

  The warrior's eyelids popped open in surprise. "My king," he said. One of the women cupped his testicles, and he moaned. "May I have all three?"

  Valerian rolled his eyes. "No. Two are needed... elsewhere."

  Shaye's mouth flailed open and closed, each time emitting a strangling sound. "You're treating those women like objects, and what do you mean elsewhere?" She pointed a finger at Crosse, but her gaze remained on Valerian. "What if the woman he picks doesn't want to leave with him? What then?"

  "You have doubt of their willingness?" Valerian motioned to the writhing foursome with a tilt of his chin. "They are eating him alive even now."

  Her eyes narrowed on them, and she humphed. "Well, you still sound like a pimp," she muttered. Then, louder, "Stand up for yourselves, girls. Tell these men you won't take part in their debauchery."

  In lieu of a response, all three ran their tongues over Crosse's bare chest and back. The man whimpered in unadulterated bliss. Shaye pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

  "Take your woman, Crosse, and go."

  "Thank you, my king." Crosse grabbed the brunette, who was even then trying to slip her hand into his pants, and raced away with her. Her giggles echoed behind her.

  The other two groaned at the loss of their lover... until they spied Valerian. They clapped and laughed in renewed delight. He backed away. He even thrust Shaye in front of him as a shield.

  "I am mated," he told them. Mated nymphs did not usually draw females with the same potency and fever as unmated ones. These women might want him still, but they would never again want him beyond reason. Beyond all sense of self.

  Perhaps humans did not know that was the way of things, for they sauntered toward him, undeterred.

  "Back off, ladies," Shaye suddenly barked. They obeyed instantly, their features crumbling in a pout.

  Valerian blinked in surprise. Had that been jealousy in Shaye's tone? Possessiveness? Dare he hope? "Joachim is in need of a lover," he said, pointing.

  Their gazes slid to the warrior in question—whose eyes were widening in suspicion. And anticipation. Both women grinned slowly and sashayed to him without question.

  "You are so big," the blonde cooed.

  "And strong," added the redhead.

  Joachim backed away, determined to resist. "I have made a choice?" he said, but the words were a question rather than a statement. "The... the pale one is to be my next bed partner, and I must guard her door this night. For that reason, you... can... not... touch... me. Touch me." The last was an unrestrained moan of helpless capitulation.

  They'd reached him, and their hands were already on him, stroking. Their warm breath was pro
bably bathing his skin; their eager scent likely filling his nose. Valerian almost grinned. Perhaps I have already lost my honor, he thought, even as he said, "Shaye will not mind if you do not stand guard at her door this night. A man has needs, and she knows that."

  "Needs," the lost-in-a-passion-haze warrior repeated, dazed.

  "I want your naked skin sliding against mine," the blonde said, breathless.

  "I want you, hot in my mouth."

  Joachim audibly swallowed. "Valerian," he began.

  "Go. I will see you in the morning."

  "The pale one—"

  "Will remain untouched." Tonight. "I have given you my word."

  "I trust you." Joachim strode away then, a sexually charged woman on each arm. Valerian doubted they would make it to a room. Most likely, Joachim was already naked and inside one, pinning her against the wall—

  A woman's ecstatic cry of pleasure rang out.

  Valerian finally allowed his grin to peek through. Joachim was occupied, and he had Shaye alone. But he couldn't taste her or caress her body, he reminded himself. He'd given his word, after all, and his cousin trusted him. He lost his smile.

  "Unbelievable," Shaye muttered.

  He gripped her shoulders and twisted her around, letting her see his frown. "Just what do you find so unbelievable?"

  "The amount of communal sex to be had, of course. Haven't you people heard of diseases?"

  She looked so lovely standing there in her pique. So surreal, like the moonbeam he called her. Lust coiled strong fingers through his blood. He'd touched the softness of her skin today, but had yet to taste her. He'd held her, but had yet to make love to her.

  The sounds of loving echoed from every corridor of the palace, audible even in this remote hideaway. Shaye's cheeks pinkened. How he would have loved to taste that color in her cheeks, to see if it was as pure as it appeared. His cock hardened painfully.

  Now that they were alone, his body wanted only to learn hers. To strip her. To sink into her. To pound, hard and fast, a never-ending rhythm. She looked at him, as if she herself had just realized they were finally alone, and her nostrils flared. In desire?

  He had to have her, honor be damned. Had to—He fisted his hands at his sides to keep himself from reaching out.

  "Shaye, listen to me very closely." The words were nothing more than a growl of barely restrained need. "I want you, but I cannot have you. If you do not go inside that room right now, I'm going to forget that I'm not supposed to have you. I'm going to take you. I'll rip away your clothes and taste every inch of you."

  As he spoke, she inched away from him. Her eyes widened, impossibly round, velvet-brown with sparks of, dare he say, need?

  "The cloth behind you covers the only doorway. If you cross it, even once, I will view it as an invitation to take what I so desperately crave."

  The total conviction in his voice must have frightened her. Pallid, she spun around and sprinted into the room, pale hair drifting behind her like a cluster of falling stars.

  For a long while, the cloth hanging in the doorway rippled, daring him to enter. Finally it stilled, and Valerian covered his face with a shaky hand. Having a mate was going to be hell on his body, it seemed, for he foresaw a long, painful night ahead.

  With no real end in sight.

  CHAPTER 8

  SHAYE'S HEART THUNDERED in her chest, pounding so hard she feared her ribs would crack; her ears rang loudly, and she covered them with her hands to block out the awful sound. She sank onto the edge of a decadent made-for-sex bed of red silk and velvet.

  Not daring to breathe, she stared at the sheer, white lace in place of the door.

  She remained in that exact position for over an hour, fearful—and, damn it, anticipatory—of Valerian following her inside the room. That look in his eyes when she'd left him... she'd never encountered anything quite so scorching. So blistering. If she'd reached out, the heat from his gaze would have burned her skin.

  She gulped. Seeing him like that, she'd felt as if she'd traveled too close to the sun, ready to combust into flames at any moment. A part of her had wanted to combust.

  On Earth, or rather the surface, she didn't have to worry about that sort of thing. Desire, thankfully, wasn't a part of her life. Her employees were female; she'd purposefully kept the office testosterone-free to avoid temptation.

  "Relationships," she muttered. Ugh. It wasn't that she'd watched her mother devour men like candy or that she'd witnessed her father plow through women like a linebacker. It wasn't the stepdads who had tried to sneak into her room, forcing her to hide in shadowy corners just to get a little sleep. It wasn't even the charmingly sly men she'd dated in that brief, curious period of her life.

  It was the fear that she would turn out to be just like them, a slave to her own desires. A fool for love. Accepting of whatever crap the object of her fascination dished. Shaye sighed.

  Sure, she'd had more adventure in the last few hours than she'd had in her entire life. She hadn't experienced a moment of loneliness, hadn't had to pretend everything was okay. But up there, the men she pushed away stayed away. If someone asked her out and she said no, they left her alone. Most wanted nothing to do with her, to be honest, finding her too... prickly. Too cold.

  Not Valerian. There was no getting rid of him, it seemed.

  She rested her head against the bedpost, which was intricately carved with frolicking dragons and naked females. So far Valerian had proven himself a man of his word and had not entered. He hadn't even peeked at her through the wisp of lace. She knew he stood guard just beyond the curtain, though. She heard him shift from one foot to the other.

  I have to escape before morning.

  "I'm not a trophy," she muttered. "I am not a prize for Valerian and his Sex Squad to fight over."

  "Yes, you are," the man of the hour said.

  The sound of his husky, sexy voice gave her a jolt of pure pleasure. Made her heart skip a beat and heat coast over her skin. She jumped to her feet, gaze scanning the room for an exit. All she saw was the large tub that was filled with hot water. Tendrils of steam curled to the vaulted crystal ceiling, which showcased the now turbulent ocean above. Waves churned and swirled, leaving wisps of foam behind. No horny mermaids in sight, thank God. Multicolored gowns—togas?—hung in the closet.

  The room looked as if it had been taken from the set of a movie. A period piece with a dash of modern. Glamorous, expensive, surreal. While the vanity was made of ivory, the chair in front of it was composed of diamonds, the cushion layered with vivid violet silks from the palest lilac to the darkest amethyst.

  True to Valerian's word, there was no other doorway. No other—wait! Biting her lip with the force of her excitement, she raced to a lavender veil hanging over the far wall and shoved it aside.

  The sight that greeted her was not what she expected, but it made her gasp all the same. Her eyes widened. "Dear God."

  "Magnificent, is it not?" Valerian said through the curtain, as if he could see through her eyes. Pride dripped from his words. "We call it the Outer City."

  She stood in front of a wall of windows. A lush green view greeted her. Thick, dew-kissed trees, some as bright as emeralds, others as white as snow, circled the landscape. Clear waterfalls tumbled into pristine rivers. Rainbow-colored birds soared overhead.

  In the heart of it all was a crowded, pulsing-with-life city. Buildings of stone and wood created a maze of winding streets. Streaks of light emanated from the dome above, murky and dim, as twilight gave way to night. Light from a crystal instead of a sun, Shaye mused.

  She would have loved to visit, to stand in the midst of such spectacular beauty and simply bask in it. "I'm as close as I'll ever get to heaven," she breathed. She stared down the cliffs, amazed by the creatures she suddenly noticed. Okay, maybe not heaven. There were bull-faced men, women with horse-bodies, lions with wings, and—"Holy shit!" She slapped a hand over her mouth, shocked by what she saw.

  A deep, throaty chuckle greeted h
er ears. "We must work on your language, Shaye."

  The sound of that chuckle washed over her erotically. The sound of her name on his lips, however, proved more stimulating. Be rude. Make him dislike you. A heartbeat of time passed, and she didn't say anything. I don't want to be rude, some part of her whined. She gnashed her teeth. Just do it! "Well... you can just blow me, Valerian."

  "Thank you. I will."

  She shook her head in frustration. The man simply couldn't take an insult the way it was intended. A horde of harpies—the very thing that had so shocked her a moment ago—took flight, their huge breasts jiggling as they ascended into the air. Long, sharp talons stretched from their hands and feet. Their faces were hideous with beak noses and evil, black eyes.

  "There was no need to travel to the beach, Valerian," she said, trying again. "Your perfect mate was right here in your own city all along."

  "Only you would do, love."

  Her stomach tightened at his words. Forcing her attention away from the fantastical metropolis, she studied the windows. They were made of the same crystal as the dome, only smoother, with no cracks, no seams. Translation: no way to open. She stomped her foot. So what that she couldn't have scaled the walls outside. So what that she was high up, and falling to her death would be the most likely outcome. A girl needed options.

  "Perhaps you should use this time to come to terms with your fate instead of finding a way to escape," Valerian suggested from his post.

  "Perhaps you should shut up."

  Another husky chuckle rumbled from him, and she scowled at the dark, drugging sensuality of it. It was more potent this time. Beguiling. Quietly beseeching her to join him in his merriment.

  "Why do you find my insults so humorous?" Most people ran as fast as they could to get away from her.

  "You do not really mean what you say," he explained patiently. "I suspect you want just the opposite, in fact."

  A tremble moved through her. Shock—yes. More than ever before. Awe—certainly. No one, not even her family, had ever suspected the truth. She did not enjoy hurting people; she simply wasn't brave enough to risk making a friend. How did he know? She cleared her throat, striving for a hard tone. "You don't know me well enough to judge what I mean and what I don't."