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enemy. Not only that, she had mocked him. He would not allow himself to care about her.
    Only he did. Even beyond the physical desire, something pulled at him making him want to take care of her. Yes, he would make her his own, teach her and show her the wonders that awaited her. That they would both enjoy.
    His concerns for her care took a back seat as his thoughts flooded with how her body would react to his, setting off its own reaction. With startling swiftness, his lips locked over hers in a less than gentle kiss, one she could scarce refuse, even if she’d wanted to.

     
    Elenya was unprepared for her reaction to the feel of his lips on hers. She wasn’t sure what made her body arch toward his or how her hand found its way into the thick crop of his night-black hair. She’d never felt so filled with need.
    That wasn’t true.
    A vision of Shemek flitted through her mind, quickly replaced with thoughts of the warmth that had spread through her as Tahruk had gazed down at her at the Master’s feet. He’d been angry and she’d still had to fight the desire to rise and go to him.
    The pull of the marking. That was all it was.
     
    He released her as abruptly as he’d pressed himself upon her, flooding her with a pool of emotion, including a certain self-loathing at the strength of her desire for her enemy. She looked up into his face washed with triumph.
    “I am not your servant,” she muttered as she tried to roll away.
    “No, but you are mine and I am not finished.”
    Elenya checked her movement. Even her breath stilled when his finger began to trace the bones of her neck, sliding up to follow the path of her jaw line, running across her bruised lips.
    His smile was knowing, arrogant. “You enjoy my caress.”
    Elenya could master no words. Her attempt to shake her head only enticed him to further action. Soft caresses danced down the back of her arm leaving his mouth free to explore and her breathless, ready to cry out when he stopped a mere feather width from the top of the sheet.
    He laughed. “You feel how the madness drives and frustrates…” His tongue darted out to sear her flesh just where the roundness of her still-covered breasts began, and her held breath whooshed out. His lips pressed harder, her heart beating against them.
    Cursed man! Resisting the pleasures of the flesh was going to prove to be such bitter-sweet torment. Even the savagery resonating from the man who controlled her did little to assuage her desires. If anything, it added, intensified, causing her to strain against the bedding in an attempt to push herself toward him, her own unfamiliar need propelling her.
     
    It was at that moment, the moment the warrior’s descent commenced, that the door to his bedchamber opened. Elenya screamed. Tahruk roared. An older woman swooshed in, seemingly oblivious to the scenario playing out between the couple.
    “Mother!”
    “ Mother ?” Elenya quietly echoed Tahruk’s growled word while fighting against him to properly cover herself as Mother deposited a load of clothing on a nearby chair before turning to face the bed.
    Tahruk released his hold on Elenya’s back. He pulled his hand from beneath the sheets and reached behind him to draw the coverlet over his own nakedness. Mother seemed unaffected.
    “I informed you last night that I would stop by this morning with something suitable for your chosen…” She shifted her gaze, looking directly at Elenya who was sure she failed miserably in her attempt to return the smile that encompassed the other woman’s kind face. “For you to wear, my dear. None of it will fit properly but will suffice until your belongings are brought over.”
    Her belongings. Here. More finality to her plight.
    “Thank you.” The words eeked from Elenya’s tight lips.
    Mother frowned, looking at her son.
    Elenya cut her eyes to see Tahruk’s face, surprised at the ferocity of his glare set on his own mother.
    “You’re scaring the dear girl, Tahruk.