Read Passion Untamed for Free Online Page B

pulsing and contracting with desire, dampening her thighs. Now that passion, that power arced through the room, thickening.
    The sound of a vicious animal rumbled from the Feral’s throat. “That hand gets any closer to my shaft and I’ll rip your head from your shoulders.”
    Skye released a sigh. “I don’t want to force you.”
    “Then don’t,” he snapped.
    “You don’t understand!” If only she had the time to back off and let him calm beneath her touch for a few days. But Birik had never been a patient man. And she sensed the anger ran deep in this Feral. A few days, or even weeks, might not be enough.
    “I understand all I need to,” he snarled.
    But he didn’t. Not at all. She had no choice but to raise the passion between them in whatever way she must. Skye dipped her head to his chest, kissing his warm skin. He smelled of night forests, wild and untamed. Darting her tongue out, she tasted him, as pleased by his taste as by his scent. Everything about him made her want him more.
    Moving a step to the side, she pressed her mouth to his abdomen, then to his hip bone, scenting the faint musk of his erection.
    She lifted her head and looked at him, her breathing uneven, her eyes growing heavy with desire. “Can I kiss you there?”
    “No.”
    She continued to his broad, rock-hard thigh, kissing, licking.
    “Witch.” His growl was still one of furious warning, but beneath the anger, passion vibrated.
    “I want you inside me, warrior,” she said huskily. “Just as you want me. Your body longs to press deep within mine.”
    “I don’t want you. I never want you.”
    “You wanted me before. In the woods.”
    “That was before I knew what you were.”
    She sighed. He’d thought she was human. Birik had given her the ability to hide the copper rings around her irises for just that purpose.
    Something had happened when they’d kissed yesterday. A strange sexual energy had passed between them, bonding them in some indefinable way. All night her body had wept for release, a release only he could give her. She’d woken knowing he’d come back to her.
    And he had.
    Unfortunately, Birik’s orders had been as clear and sharp as a piece of cut glass. When the Feral returned, she must capture him.
    And she had.
    Skye curled her fingers around his leg, caressing his inner thigh as she stood beside the stone where he was pinned, letting her fingers slide almost to his groin. “Let me touch you, warrior.”
    “No.”
    Stubborn man. He needed more time. If she forced him now, so violently against his will, his hatred would only grow stronger and more impossible to breach. She’d never calm him, never get him to accept his place here. And he must accept it.
    She couldn’t give up.
    The alternative meant his destruction.
     
    Fury clouded Paenther’s mind, rage blurred his vision. His body burned to slake its need on thewitch whose soft hands stroked his thigh, whose softer lips laid kisses on his hip, seducing. Tormenting.
    He fought the attraction, struggled to feel nothing as he had so many times in the past. But, as in the past, his body had a will of its own.
    How many times had Ancreta come to him as he’d lain chained in that cellar? How many times had she taken him into her mouth and sucked him hard? He could still feel the torment of those golden curls tumbling over his hips as he fought the arousal and lost. Every time, he’d lost.
    She’d lift those miles of skirts to her waist and straddle him, cruel laughter in her eyes that he’d fought her, and she’d won yet again. He’d buck and try to throw her off, but she’d clamp that surprisingly strong hand around his shaft and squeeze him until he quit bucking, then guide him into her hole, taking him inside.
    Hatred ran like blood through his memory. Gregor would invariably join them. As Ancreta rode him, as he fought to withhold his seed, Gregor would grab his head and begin chanting, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his skull until