"Seducing the Enemy"
A Naughty Nuptials quickie
Now Available at Ellora's Cave
Seducing the Enemy
Naughty Nuptials Quickie
Available May 23 2007
Ellora's Cave
Link: BUY HERE
BLURB:
Astrid escapes the planet where her tribeswomen have been exiled, determined to find Prince Jorunn and force him to fulfill an ancient prophecy--the one that fortells of their marriage and the savior of Astrid's people. She's going to kidnap the man and handfast with him, no matter what he has to say about it, and no matter how much she longs for love and a true marriage of the heart.
The last thing she expects is that she'll find the man of her dreams while seducing the enemy.
EXCERPT ADULT!! 18 and over only!:
“Will you not have another drink? The night is cold and the ship has yet to—”
“My thirst for liquid is sated. Tell your friend to leave us,” he said, his bright amber eyes never wavering from her own. Astrid shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the cot, struggling to ignore the pulse between her legs and the sticky juices that already coated the dress beneath her.
“I’ll go to the control room, Astrid, and check our coordinates. I’m not tired just yet,” Mina said, giving her a hard look. The sedative should begin to take effect any minute. All Astrid had to do was entertain the prince until that time.
“Very well. Thank you for the drinks.” Goddess, she sounded as out of sorts as she felt. How had she thought she could manage this kind of seduction when she knew about as much about men as she did piloting this ship? She and Mina would have crashed for sure if the Glagor who gave her the vessel hadn’t preprogrammed the coordinates and set the ship on autopilot.
“Put down your drink,” Jorunn demanded as soon as the portal slid closed behind her friend.
Astrid did as he asked, trying not to notice how her hand shook as she placed the mug on the table beside her. By the way she trembled, one would think she was afraid of this man, but she wasn’t. At least not that he would hurt her. Despite the muscles that were clearly visible in his arms now that he sat before her freshly bathed, wearing nothing but a loose brown vest and drawstring pants, she instinctively knew Jorunn wouldn’t harm her. He had a kindness in his eyes that was the last thing she had expected to see in the visage of the son of a murdering tyrant. Even when he touched her in the bar, he’d been gentle…not to mention skilled enough to take her breath away.
No, it wasn’t the strength in his giant body she feared, it was the reaction he caused in hers. From the second he’d touched her, something deep within her had turned molten, fiery, and the place between her legs burned with a need unlike anything she had ever known. The tips of her breasts ached and the friction of the scales against her aroused flesh gradually became a strange kind of torture.
“Show yourself to me.” He leaned back on his elbows, propped comfortably on the bunk across from her. He seemed completely at ease, but the bulge at the front of his pants told another story.
She had sensed the heat of him even through his thick robe, had clearly felt the pulse of his member against her belly. The prince wanted her and was more than ready to stake his claim. It was a pity that the ritual of the handfast had to come before the consummation of their union. At this moment, Astrid knew Jorunn wouldn’t object in the slightest to lying with her. After he realized her deception…she feared it would be quite a different story.
“I am seated directly in front of you. I’m certain you can see me quite plainly.” Astrid meant the words to be cool and distant, but instead they sounded almost playful, and far more breathy than she would have preferred. Like it or not, this man affected her, made her desire him, yearn for him to touch her again, take her in that way she had only imagined. She was no better than the rest of the females in the galaxy, won over by a handsome face.
“What I can see only makes me want to see more.” His eyes swept over her, making her tremble and a rush of wet heat flood between her thighs. She shifted uncomfortably, but the friction of her legs rubbing against each other only intensified her need. Astrid bit her lip to hold back a moan, struggling to focus on the job at hand.
“And you are accustomed to getting what you want?” Just a few more moments, she only had to stall for a few more moments and certainly even a man as large as Jorunn would succumb to the sedative she had placed in his drink.
“I am, but I am told I am also skilled in giving women what they want.” He slowly drew his shirt over his head, baring a purely masculine chest that quickly became an object of fascination. He was beautiful, perfect, and her mouth watered as she imagined kissing her way down that well-muscled stomach, toward where his shaft jutted proudly.
Maybe then she would pull at the tie of his pants, satisfying the burning need to see him, touch him, and hold the hot length of him in her hand.
Jorunn smiled at something he saw on her face and pushed away from his bunk to kneel on the floor in front of her. Her breath caught and words abandoned her as he placed his warm hands behind her knees and slowly, but firmly, spread her thighs wide. He held her gaze as he lowered his face between her legs and pressed a soft kiss to the inside her thigh. Another kiss followed, and then another, and then his tongue was laving at her electrified skin, even as his strong hands caressed the backs of her thighs, getting closer and closer to where her buttocks perched on the edge of the cot.
“You smell so very sweet,” he murmured, as he pushed her dress up around her hips, baring her slick, swollen sex to his gaze. “So beautiful, so perfect.”
“What are you doing?” Astrid asked, her hands flying to his head, tangling in surprisingly soft brown hair. His locks were nearly as long as hers, but tied back with a leather tether. She suddenly wanted to set it free and run her hands through its length, feel that softness sliding against her thighs as he kissed her sex.
Great goddess, he was going to kiss her sex! Even the thought of it was enough to draw her nipples into painful points and make the bud of her pleasure strain toward Jorunn’s mouth. Never had she even dreamed that a man would want to do such a thing. She had heard of some women tasting each other so intimately, but she and Mina had only ever used their hands to bring each other to ecstasy. The knowledge that this man’s clever lips would soon be busy between her legs drew a plaintive sound from deep within her, a helpless, needy sound that made her ashamed…but not ashamed enough to push the prince away.
“If you truly don’t plan to charge me coin for this night, then I must pay your price in pleasure. Don’t you want me to bring you pleasure, Astrid?”
He followed the words by opening his mouth and flicking his tongue, just once, across her engorged clit. Astrid cried out and her hips thrust toward him of their on free will, desperate for more, for all of this man who aroused her more than she had even dreamed possible.
He answered her with a growl, pushing her back onto the cot and ripping at the front of her clothing with strong, desperate hands. The garment gave without protest, and scales scattered across the room as he bared her body to his touch, his mouth, the heat of his skin. His lips were suddenly upon hers, hot, needy, his tongue demanding entrance into her mouth. Astrid opened for him without a second thought, her hands clawing into his strong shoulders, pulling him closer, feeling as if he would never be close enough.
His kiss was more erotic than any she had ever known, so different from the soft, sensual caresses that she had known with Mina. Nothing about Jorunn was soft. He was firm, demanding, owning her lips with his until she groaned into the crushing velvet of his mouth, abandoning herself to his possession. She closed her eyes and the musky smell of him flooded through her, the taste of him the most magnificent thing she had ever known. The feel of his calloused hand sliding up the length of her ribs to cup her full, aching breast in his hand soon completely overwhelmed her right mind.
“What is it that you do to me?” He breathed the words against her lips, more a statement than a question and then he was gone, kissing a searing path down the length of her throat.
Astrid’s gasp turned into a desperate cry as his mouth closed around her tightly puckered nipple. He suckled her as a babe would suck at his mother, sending jolts of electricity, of pure raw need, down between her legs. Her already pulsing clit began to throb painfully, building her arousal to a pinnacle of desperation. Astrid writhed beneath Jorunn’s heavy weight and tried to pull his mouth from her breast. She couldn’t take any more of this sweet torture, she needed, needed something from him, something more than his fingers, more than his mouth.
“Please, please,” she moaned, her head tossing feverishly from side to side. He was driving her mad, completely mad, and she didn’t even have the good sense left to care. She wanted, ached, hungered for what this man would give her, whatever he would give her, and goddess damn the consequences.
“I will never make you beg, my sweet,” he said, his words were soft, almost affectionate, completely at odds with the violence with which he wrenched her legs wide apart. He forced her bent knees up and out, baring her completely, from ass to clit, to the mouth he dropped between her legs.
"Good Enough to Eat" c. Anna J. Evans
CHAPTER TWO
“Good god,” Sebastian mumbled as the petite blonde took his face in her hands and pulled him down to her lips. The first touch blew him away. Those lips were the softest, sweetest thing he’d tasted in a long time--despite the fact that her breath smelled of bourbon mixed with something salty. (Mixed nuts or pork rinds, maybe?)
Who the hell cared? He liked pork rinds, and at the moment he was more than liking what she was doing to him with her mouth and the sweet tip of her tongue. He moaned into the kiss and pulled her closer. Their teeth bumped and a little giggle escaped from her throat. He felt tempted to laugh himself, he was suddenly...giddy.
This was heaven, her body against his paradise. He never wanted to let this woman go, despite the fact that the rational part of his mind was already laying on the guilt trip of the century.
This isn’t supposed to happen, you should be reading her her rights. This is immoral and unethical, not to mention illegal.
His hands had a mind of their own, wandering over curves that took his breath away.
Don’t do that! Stop it! Get your hand off of--
But Sebastian found it surprisingly easy to ignore the voice of reason. What man could be expected to think reasonably when quite possibly the sexiest woman in the world was tracing swirls of pure heat through his mouth as her leg slipped around his waist to pull him against her curvy little body?
Nerve endings humming, he let out a little breath of surprise at the sudden increase in contact. He grew bolder, sliding one hand through her baby soft hair to grip the back of her head as the other raked down her back to urge her shapely bottom more tightly against the evidence of his extreme interest.
Far from being offended, she pressed closer, her hips rocking forward so that he could feel her heat even through her underwear and his jeans. The sensation was almost more than he could take and he found himself gripping her hips and grinding gently against her, half out of his mind as her tongue grew more frenzied in his mouth and she clung to him, meeting each thrust of his hips with an eager wiggle of her own.
“Sebastian,” she whispered, in a voice that sounded like she’d been saying his name for years, a voice filled with desire and affection and more than a hint of intimacy.
A sharp wave of longing shot through his chest, taking his breath away. Something deep inside of him screamed out that he must have this woman, must possess her completely and in a way that went beyond the physical. He still wanted to cuff her and drag her out of this alley, but now he wanted to take her straight home and chain her to his bed and never let her go. He wanted her, needed her, felt insanely jealous that any other man had ever had his hands on her.
Inside his mind, alarm bells began to sound. There was something wrong here, something not quite natural. How could he be feeling such deep longing for a woman he didn’t even know, didn’t particularly like, and who he suspected of being a common criminal?
She’s a prostitute! Admit it asshole, this is what she does for a living! Start thinking with something other than your dick, officer!
The damned voice was right. He should stop this, should stop it now. This was wrong on so many levels, not to mention that she wasn’t even his type. She was short and blonde and anything but exotic. Her eyes were a little too big and way too blue and she seemed to be about as intelligent as your average household appliance. But right now, with her fingers in his hair and those unbelievably sexy little gasps coming from the back of her throat, it seemed impossible to stop what they’d started and god help him, he really, really didn’t even want to try.
“We have to stop,” he managed to gasp as he pulled his mouth away, nearly dropping his lips immediately back to her own when he saw the way desire flushed her pale skin pink all the way from her cheeks down to the swell of her breasts. She had to know what a sweater like that did to a man.
“Why? It feels so good,” she murmured with a smile, her eyes still closed as she breathed quickly in and out through her slightly parted lips.
“You smell like a brewery,” he snapped, struggling to hang on to his sanity.
Her smile widened and her hand slowly drifted up the side of his thigh, then smoothed around to his ass where she proceeded to dig her fingers into his flesh in a way that was almost painful and entirely erotic.
“Stop it,” he ordered even as his cock grew unbelievably thicker inside his jeans.
“Make me,” she teased, still not opening her eyes.
“Look at me, I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She cracked her lids just the slightest bit before rolling her shoulders in an odd little wiggle that caused the damn sweater to slide straight off her shoulders, revealing the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen.
“God I want you,” he breathed, losing all power to resist as his shaking hands cupped her truly spectacular breasts and his thumbs brushed lightly over her pink tips. She closed her eyes and arched into him.
“I want you too.” She moaned, opening eyes filled with desperation and beginning to struggle with his belt.
“If you do this, it’s because you want to.” He allowed her to work on his belt as he slid a hand up her skirt, his hands trembling again as he cupped the heat of her mound through her relatively modest cotton underwear.
Professional or not, she wanted him, the rush of heat that met his hand proved that at least. He’d just have to deal with the rest of his mixed feelings at a later date. The only feeling he could manage at the moment was satisfying the overwhelming need to slide himself deep inside her.
“I want to, I really, really want to,” she affirmed as she finally managed to undo his belt and started tugging at the buttons of his fly.
“Really, really?”
“Really, really, really.”
“Good,” he moaned, “because I don’t pay for sex.”
“What?” she asked, sounding as drunk with lust as he felt.
“I don’t. Pay. For sex,” he managed to squeeze out as he clenched his jaw and fought the urge to come in her hand as she finally found the hot length of him and gently squeezed, “Oh god, that feels amazing.”
“You don’t pay for sex? Did you just say you...” She let out a sound of outrage, pulling away, the loss of her body heat making the muggy summer night seem painfully cold.
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but she still stood too close for rational thought. He found himself groping for her despite the fact that a part of him registered that something was wrong, that perhaps he had made a slight miscalculation.
“Get off me,” she growled, shoving him away and pulling her clothing back into place, her wide baby blues only slits in her furious little face.
“Oh,” he muttered as the realization of his mistake hit him full force, “You’re not a prostitute.”
“No, I’m not a prostitute,” she whispered, the quiet menace in her tone more than enough to chill the bones of a lesser man. Sebastian mentally blessed his mother for giving him seven younger sisters. If anything had prepared him for the full onslaught of female fury, Christina, Amelia, Isabelle, Marie, Elaine, Theresa, and Anna had done the job.
“I’m sorry,” he said, affecting a casual shrug that belied his still racing blood.“But you can understand the mistake.”
“What, a woman can’t wear revealing clothing without being the prostitute? I didn’t realize we were still in the Middle Ages,” she retorted, folding her arms across her chest in a movement that only served to press her ample breasts closer together. He fought the urge to dip down and run his tongue between the two milky mounds of flesh.
“Listen, this isn’t New York City.” He tried to use his frustration with the woman to smother the desire that was still rampaging through his body. “If you walk through downtown Beauford with your breasts hanging out and a skirt cut up to your ass, people are going to think you’re for sale. Besides, when I first saw you, you were leaned over Charlie, giving him an eyeful of your chest and nibbling on his neck. That man hasn’t had a woman he didn’t pay for in over a decade. What exactly was I supposed to think?”
“You’re a pig,” she returned, “and if I had the time to waste, I’d bring you up on charges.”
“Bring me up on charges?” Sebastian grabbed her elbow as she turned to leave, struggling to resist the mad urge to pull her closer. “For kissing a willing woman in a dark alley? You wanted what happened here. You wanted more.”
“I’m horny, so sue me,” she replied, wrenching away from his grip as if his touch repulsed her. The tightening of her nipples through her sweater told another story, however, a story that Sebastian was dying to hear despite his tough talk.
“You always latch on to the first man in sight?”
“You could say that,” she mumbled, an odd look on her face as she turned to walk down the alley toward the lights of what passed for Main Street in the quiet Alabama town.
“Are you trying to be mysterious?” he asked her retreating back.
“Are you mystified?” she threw back over her shoulder.
“Not in the least, lady.”
“Well good for you sugar,” she cooed in an exaggerated imitation of his southern drawl while she wiggled her fingers in a ‘ta-ta’ motion that made him want to wring her neck.
“Stay out of dark alleys!”
“Whatever banana breath,” she yelled back, not even bothering to turn around.
Sebastian balled his hands at his sides and fought the insane urge to go running after her. He’d have to be crazy to get involved with a woman like that. She was wild, she was unpredictable, and she was as American as apple pie, all the things he didn’t like in a woman. Who cared if his entire body ached with frustration or that the not so rational part of him told him he was making a big mistake letting her sashay out of his life? Every sane bone in his body said she was trouble, pure and simple.
And that wasn’t even considering the fact that he was almost one hundred percent certain she’d been trying to read his mind. It had been years since he’d used his own special talents and had never felt someone else poking around his head. The sensation had shocked the hell out of him and scared him more than he liked to admit, awakening the urge to let his own mind run free. But he couldn’t allow himself to go down that road again. Whatever twisted gifts he had were going to stay tightly under lock and key, no matter how tempted he had been to reach out to her, to feel the rush of being inside another’s most intimate thoughts.
He’d more than learned his lesson the first time around. He wasn’t a stupid kid anymore and knew the potential consequences of indulging his urges. People could get hurt, even killed, and there would be no one to blame but himself. Next time, he knew the guilt would kill him.
That’s why there couldn’t be a next time.
Besides, he thought, watching her hips twitch back and forth as she emerged onto the street and headed back into the local watering hole, he’d already come as close to breaching his ethics as he could tolerate. Even allowing for the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in almost a year and that the blonde obviously possessed some sort of insane sexual energy that would drive even the strongest of men over the edge, nearly getting it on with a woman he’d thought was a prostitute was beyond acceptable behavior.
If one of the men under him had done the same, Sebastian knew that he would have fired him on the spot. Maybe he wouldn’t have pressed criminal charges, but he wouldn’t allow a man like that to stay on the force. He didn’t give a shit if other people thought it was cheesy or naïve, he truly believed that an officer of the law should hold himself to a higher moral and ethical standard than the average Joe off the street, or the average Charlie.
“What was she doing to you anyway old man?” Sebastian spoke aloud, reaching down to help Charlie to his feet, ignoring his protests that he wasn’t ready to wake up yet.
He didn’t buy the blonde’s story for a minute. From the simple smell of him, Charlie would scare off even the horniest of females, let alone a sexy little number who could have her pick of men under the age of sixty and with some of their own teeth. No, she was up to something. Maybe if he hadn’t acted like a sex crazed teenager he would have found out what.
“Good work Moreno.” He was going to have to get a better head on his shoulders. If he continued to be distracted by every dumb blonde in a short skirt, the situation in Beauford was only going to get worse. He feared he might soon have a full-fledged homicide on his hands if whoever was mutilating the animals in town was allowed to continue with their sick hobby.
He had to catch the person responsible and he had to do it quickly. There was no time to waste. So unless he discovered that whatever-her-name-was had something to do with the strange events of the past few months, he was going to forget he had ever met her, forget that he’d been insanely tempted by her mind and body, or that he was strangely sad that he didn’t have a name to go with the face that was going to haunt him for a very long time.