The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

An hour later, Samara sank back against the seat in the narrow galley while Adalard placed their dirty dishes in the alien version of a dishwasher. She absently ran her finger along the smooth surface of the galley table as she watched him. Her thoughts were torn between what they had found and watching Adalard bend over.

Both are dangerous for entirely different reasons. The man definitely fills out a pair of pants in a very nice way, she decided with a tinge of amusement at her chaotic thoughts.

“You are making this very difficult,” he said.

She sheepishly grinned at him. “Sorry. I’ll try to think quieter.”

“I’m not complaining,” he teased.

She lowered her gaze to the table and absently continued to make figure eights with her finger. There had only been a handful of times over the years when she mildly considered a more intimate relationship with a guy. The problem with living in the same place her whole life and having five older brothers was that people talked—a lot.

It was bad enough dealing with her brothers’ disreputable reputations, she didn’t need hers smeared in the mud alongside theirs. Especially when she considered all the guys she knew also hung out with one or more of her siblings.

There was also her personal fear of ending up like her mom. While she had promised herself that she would break the Lee-Stephens’s curse, she never intended to become a nun either.

She had blamed her existing virgin status on those two reasons, but now she wondered if it was because she had just never found a guy who interested her enough to want to get hot and n***d. After thinking about everything, she realized that her reservations about having a relationship with Adalard were melting away.

Her worries about her family and living in a small community—none of those were a consideration with Adalard. A relationship with him would be different. She didn’t have to worry about him gossiping if things went south—and her mom… well, Adalard was nothing like her dad.

Besides, the odds of getting pregnant are probably a million-to-one considering we are from totally different DNA pools, she reasoned.

Of course, that thought made her wonder if they would be anatomically compatible. She dismissed that thought almost as soon as it formed when she remembered Adalard mentioning that his brother’s ‘mate’ was human.

When she added that detail to the way the heat ignited every time they kissed and her reaction to him in his ship, she thought they must be very compatible. Just the thought made her want to squirm.

She lifted her somber focus back to Adalard. It was hard to ignore the desire in his eyes. Despite her attempts to hide her thoughts, it was obvious he was still mentally connected to her. He straightened and stared back at her with a look of uncertainty. She rose to her feet and walked over to him. Lifting her hand, she tenderly caressed the scar along his cheek.

“What is it?” she asked.

He covered her hand, his thumb gently caressing her skin. The colors that clung to him reached out and enveloped her. The power behind the colors caught her breath.

“How long is courting supposed to last? It seems rather… long,” he confessed.

“Courting? Is that what you’ve been doing?” she teased. When he frowned in confusion, she softly laughed and kissed him. “I’ve never been courted before, but I think you’ve—" She locked gazes with him and continued in a slightly breathless voice, “been doing a very good job.” She looked down and bit her lip, fighting a smile.

“Good, because human courting methods are a lot of work,” he grumbled.

“Really?” she laughed. “How do you court where you come from?”

“Like this,” he said.

He captured her upturned lips in a hard, passionate kiss, unleashing all of his pent-up desire. He slid his arms around her, lifted her up against his body and pressed her against his aroused c**k. She parted her lips on a startled gasp, and he took full advantage of her surprise.

He swept his tongue inside her mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held his lips locked to hers. Their tongues brushed against each other, the sensitive tips exploring and challenging. She responded to him with an urgency that reassured him she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

A groan of pleasure slipped from him. She tasted of wine and desire, and he swore he could get drunk on her kisses alone. His blood felt as if it were boiling with the energy building in the air around them. His c**k was pressed against the jeans he was wearing, his testicles swollen hard as rocks.

He relaxed his hold on her, and she slid down his body. Once her feet touched the floor, he skimmed his hands over her body and cupped her face, pulling back and gazing down at her. She looked up at him with a passion-dazed expression.

“W-wow. That is… some way to court,” she remarked in a hoarse voice.

“I haven’t even started,” he promised.

She tugged on his hair, pulling his head down. “Do me a favor—keep it up,” she breathed before running her tongue along his bottom lip.

Their next kiss was deep and frenzied. Adalard lifted her off her feet again, Samara locked her legs around him, and she felt up every inch of him that she could reach. He returned the favor and they drove each other crazy as they slowly made their way across the galley, often falling against a wall in their passion. When they finally reached the sleeping cabin, they paused, panting, in front of the bed.

Samara unlocked her legs from around his waist and lightly pushed on his chest. He released her, allowing her to stand on her own feet and watched hungrily as she backed away from him and began undressing. He watched the movement of her fingers as she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. She bent over, unzipped her boots, and kicked them off. Her pants, panties, and b*a followed until she was standing in front of him as bare as the day she was born.

He swallowed, his violet eyes glowing with desire. The colors swirling around him expanded outward, wrapping around her and caressing her skin with the same gentle stroke as his touch. She moaned softly and walked over to him.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, his gaze intensely connecting with hers. She ran her fingers along the scar on his cheek before skimming over his jaw and down his throat to the top button of his shirt. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and she began to undress him, pausing to press light kisses to his skin as she released each button.

He remained still as she slid his shirt off of his broad shoulders. She caressed his skin, memorizing every inch of his body as she unveiled it. She followed her fingers with her lips. His breathing grew heavy and uneven as she moved lower.

Her fingers were trembling by the time she released the button on his jeans and slowly pulled his zipper down. She started to kneel in front of him but he reached out and gripped her arms. She glanced up at him as he groaned and shook his head, his throat working up and down as he swallowed.

“I….”

He shook his head again. Her heart melted when she saw the impact her gentle seduction was having on him. This was a man who was used to being in control, and he was on the verge of losing it.

She tugged on his pants, and they slid down his legs. His boots disappeared and she gasped in surprise but soon forgot all about his boots as her eyes swept up to take in him standing before her in his full magnificent arousal. She moaned in pleasure.

“Love me,” she gently demanded.

His gaze turned to liquid violet. “Always.”

Like magnets moving in accord, she sank down to lie back on the bed, raising her arms above her head, and he followed her, caging her under him. He captured her lips in a deep kiss filled with tenderness and possession. She parted her legs for him when she felt his heavy c**k pressing against her thighs.

“Oh, Adalard,” she whispered.

He moved down her body, kissing and exploring with the same care that she had given him. She stared up at the ceiling in wonder, focusing completely on the feel of his fingers as they brushed against her skin. She arched upward when he wrapped his lips around her taut n****e. He lavished each rosy bud until they were as hard as pebbles and aching for more.

Liquid fire burned between her legs, and she restlessly moved, brushing against his throbbing c**k and drawing a hiss of pleasure-pain from him. Her need grew until she wanted to cry out with frustration.

You are so beautiful.

His soft words flowed through her mind. Mixed with the words was something else… a deeper meaning that she recognized but was afraid to believe. She closed her eyes when he moved down her stomach to her core. Her breathing came in shuddering gasps as he teased her with his lips and fingers. She lowered her hands and cupped her breasts. She pinched her n*****s as he slid his fingers inside her.

She spread her legs wider, wanting more, too mindless with need to feel shy. Sparks flew through her mind as she tensed around his fingers. Her low mewing cry grew louder along with the pressure.

He withdrew his fingers, rose, and entered her. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him as he slowly pushed deeper. There was no pain as he took her, only a fullness that felt wonderful.

She moved with him, wanting to draw out her o****m. They fit perfectly, moving in a primitive dance. She opened her eyes and watched the expression flitting across his face. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced and she wanted to burn it into her memory.

“Samara…,” he gasped.

She parted her lips as he thrust faster and deeper, his body shuddering as his control snapped. She arched her back at the intensity of each thrust. A silver thread wound through the colors surrounding them, brilliant and fragile at the same time. The thread spread outward, winding around them.

It was a cosmic experience, the vision so real that she tried to reach out and touch the thread, but her fingers passed through the sparkling ribbon. A tsunami of intense emotions flooded her. When she realized the emotions were Adalard’s as well as hers, tears burned in her eyes.

She dropped her hand to his shoulder, he bowed his head, and she surged up to capture his lips. He parted his lips, and she deepened the kiss, pouring everything she was feeling into it.

I love you, misha la warrior.