The Dark Prince's Prize (Curizan Warrior Book 2) Page 12

  “Thank you,” Adalard murmured.

  She reluctantly pulled away and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “No problem. I guess we should stick pretty close together, huh?”

  “Yes, that might be good,” he said, caressing her cheek.

  She tilted her head against his hand and smiled up at him. She lowered her gaze to his lips. He groaned and kissed her. She parted her lips, absorbing his kiss like a sunflower searching for the warmth of the sun.

  She slid her hands up his arms to his neck. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed her back against the corridor wall. This position allowed him to run his hands over her sides, hips, and buttocks.

  Their tongues stroking the other’s in an ancient dance as old as time, touching, retreating, teasing, and tasting each other. He slipped his hands under her blouse, making her moan at his sensual touch. She had made out a few times in high school out of curiosity, but this was nothing like those clumsy caresses.

  She moaned again when he cupped her lace-covered breasts. Her nipples throbbed, straining against the thin material of her bra. She wasn’t endowed with large breasts like some of her friends. Still, they felt heavy and fuller than normal when he brushed the pad of his thumb over the taut tips.

  Shock-filled pleasure tore through her when he pressed his hips against her. There was no denying his arousal. Visions of their bodies clinging to each other with his cock deeply embedded inside her filled her mind. The images were so vivid and the intensity of the pressure building deep inside her so real that for a moment she wondered if they were really locked together in a passionate embrace.

  The unexpected heat tearing through her and settling between her legs caused her to rip her lips from his. She closed her eyes and held onto the sexual vision. The pressure of Adalard rocking his hips, the thick bulge of his arousal pressed against her sensitive mound, and the friction of her clothing sent her spiraling out of control.

  Gasping, she clutched his shoulders, rubbing against him as he rocked back and forth. The wave reached the pinnacle and crashed. A cry was ripped from her throat at her unexpected climax. Adalard rolled her straining nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, drawing out the pleasure as he held her pinned between his throbbing cock and the wall. That was the only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle on the floor.

  She opened her eyes. Shock held her speechless when she saw the passionate and possessive flame burning in Adalard’s violet eyes. The vibrant colors of the Aurora Borealis flared outward from him and wrapped around her. Breathless and stunned by what she had just experienced, she cupped his cheeks and kissed him.

  As the afterglow of her orgasm faded and reality set in, a feeling of awkward unease swept through her. She was way in over her head in a situation she had never been in before. Adalard broke their kiss and stepped back with a sigh.

  “I…,” she mumbled, sliding her legs from around his waist.

  “Have given me a great gift. I ask for nothing more,” he said.

  She looked up at him with an amused expression. “Spoken like a true knight in shining armor,” she mused.

  “I will probably pay for my chivalry later,” he replied with a grimace.

  “Yes, well, on a good note, the gray fog appears to have dissipated,” she remarked.

  He frowned and looked both ways along the corridor. Whatever power surge they had sent out either sent the gray malevolent vapor running for cover or made it evaporate. The corridor was clear in both directions.

  “This would be a good time to search for the device,” he said.

  Her throat tightened, and she nodded. What if their intimate encounter destroyed the gray mass? He would be able to leave. The thought shook her, as did the idea of never seeing him again. She looked up when he tenderly caressed her cheek.

  “You do not have to worry. When I leave, you will know,” he quietly vowed.

  “Hey Samara, how are you feeling?” Bear asked the next morning.

  Samara looked up from the back of the trailer attached to the UTV. Remorse swept through her when she saw the concerned expression on Bear’s face. She had forgotten all about him.

  “Hi Bear. I’m good,” she replied, leaning on the pitchfork.

  He dismounted from the gelding he was riding and walked over to her. She tightened her grip on the handle of the pitchfork when he silently studied her. His intense scrutiny made her wish she had kept her hat on.

  “So, what happened?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” she uneasily countered.

  He eyed her with a slightly reproachful glare that made her flush. She released a loud sigh, set the pitchfork down, and sat on the bale of hay she had been working on distributing. What happened last night still seemed unreal.

  “How is your head?” he dryly inquired.

  She lifted her hand and touched the spot. It was still tender if she pressed on it. Fortunately, she was wearing a bandana to keep her hair out of her eyes and it covered the area where she should have had a wound.

  “It’s fine—a little tender still,” she honestly replied.

  “So, did you need stitches? Did the doc at the emergency room clear you to come back so soon? After the amount of blood I saw you lose last night, it seems like they would’ve suggested some extra time off,” he reasoned.

  As Bear studied her face, Samara had an uneasy feeling that he knew she hadn’t gone to the hospital. Deciding deflection was the best tactic, she countered with a question of her own.

  “What happened to Jerry after I left?” she asked.

  Bear snorted and shrugged. “He might be needing a dentist,” he answered.

  She stared at his hands. He was wearing gloves, but she suspected there might be a few bruises on his knuckles. The thought made her grin. A look into Bear’s amused eyes confirmed her suspicion.

  “How many?” she inquired.

  Bear grinned back at her. “Two—a front tooth and a molar,” he confessed.

  She shook her head. “He should have known better than to call you Teddy Bear. You were the State Junior Heavy Weight Boxing champion three years in a row!”

  “Yeah, a few guys reminded him of that as they were hauling his ass out of the bar,” he said.

  The determined gleam reappeared in Bear’s eyes, and panic hit Samara when she saw it. Her hope that he would drop what happened to her faded. She was a lousy liar, so she would have to tread as close to the truth as possible.

  “So, are you gonna tell me what happened to you after you and the Rock Star vanished?” he asked.

  “That was a funny thing, Adalard showing up, wasn’t it? I don’t remember a lot with all the excitement and being half knocked out, but it turns out he isn’t a Rock Star after all,” she said.

  “What is he then?” Bear pressed.

  “He’s a doctor—of sorts. He patched me up, and after making sure I wasn’t going to pass out on him, he brought me home,” she explained.

  Bear looked at Samara with a skeptical expression and folded his arms across his chest. “A doctor, you say? From where?” he dryly asked.

  She scowled at him. “I don’t know. Some foreign place. What does it matter? I’m better. I’m sorry about last night. It is one of the hazards of being around my family. I shouldn’t have gone out with you. It would have saved us both a lot of grief,” she muttered.

  She rose, turned, and grabbed the pitchfork. She wobbled with surprise when she felt the trailer rock. Twisting, she looked up at Bear with a startled expression. It was one of the few times that she witnessed his anger.

  “Last night was not a mistake. It isn’t your fault your brothers are dicks. I can handle them. What I can’t handle is that you got hurt. You don’t get it, do you, Samara? I’ve had feelings for you since the tenth grade,” he gruffly replied.

  “I… Bear… I….”

  She was at a loss for words. No, she didn’t get it. Her feelings of guilt multiplied as she remembered all the times that
she cut Bear off short when he had started flirting with her during high school. Hell, she had never had time to think of boys—other than the ones that were pissed off at her brothers and wanting to take it out on her. For that matter, half the girls had been the same way thanks to the long string of broken hearts her siblings liked to leave behind. For some reason that she never understood, being a ‘bad boy’ made her brothers appealing to the opposite sex.

  Bear pulled one of his gloves off and gently caressed her cheek. She remained still when he leaned forward and kissed her cold lips. In response, she felt nothing, and remorse filled her because of it.

  It wasn’t that she was repulsed, but there was no fire there the way there was when Adalard kissed her. Bear’s soft hiss of pain made her blink. He pulled away from her with an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry about that. The static electricity must be from the cold and my clothes—unless you want to think of it as a spark of passion,” he said, rubbing his chest.

  “Spark?” she repeated, looking down at her hands.

  Samara had unconsciously pressed them against his chest. A dark red swirl of energy with white sparks that looked like tiny bolts of electricity was emanating from them. She curled her gloved fingers, thankful that Bear couldn’t see what she saw. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and shook her head.

  “I… it must be the cold—like in the freezer section at the grocery store,” she mumbled.

  He chuckled and nodded. “So, will you give me another chance? I’ll take you someplace where I know your brothers won’t show up,” he promised.

  Adalard flashed through her mind. She swallowed and shook her head. There was no way they could ever be together. They were literally from two different worlds.

  “I think I’d rather just be friends for now. I’m trying to get my life sorted out… without my brothers,” she awkwardly replied.

  Bear nodded in disappointment. “I get that. I can be a patient man,” he said with a wink. “How about I help you with this so you can take some time for yourself to recoup? I have a few hours before I’m supposed to meet with some of the guys.”

  “That would be nice, Bear,” she softly responded.

  “I’ll even share my hot chocolate with you when we finish—as a consolation prize for missing out on dessert last night,” he said with a roguish smile.

  She mutely watched him jump over the side of the trailer and lift one of the square bales of hay from the back. The gelding softly whinnied and stepped forward to take a mouthful.

  Lost in thought, they worked in unison with Bear’s casual chatter filling the silence. She was sweeping out the last of the hay when Adalard’s quiet voice filled her mind.

  What is hot chocolate?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Adalard glared at his brother’s image on the vidcom. “You are not going to use Samara like some creature you find interesting and want to study in your lab,” he growled.

  “Adalard, think about this. If our adversaries have perfected a weapon that uses our powers against us, we have to find a way to combat it. Samara may hold the key to unlocking it,” Arrow calmly countered.

  Adalard gave his brother a disgruntled look before sitting down heavily on the chair in front of the vidcom. He sat back and contemplated the situation. His brother was right. Whatever the device was, it could be devastating to their people. His first responsibility was to protect them.

  It wasn’t like he was throwing Samara to the Pactors. He would ensure that she was safe and happy despite the fact that Arrow would probably drive them both crazy with his need-to-know experiments. His intentions to take things slowly were also complicated by Ha’ven and Emma’s return in a few days. He couldn’t stay on Earth, and his people needed her. There was no way around those two critical facts.

  “I will bring her back with me,” he begrudgingly agreed.

  “In the meantime, I’ll see if I can find out more information based on what you’ve told me so far,” Arrow replied.

  “I’ll contact you once I’ve found the device. Out.” Adalard disconnected their link.

  He leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. His expression softened as he thought about the night before. Last night had been both exquisite and excruciating. His body throbbed with need at the memory of Samara’s orgasm.

  He cursed under his breath and rose to his feet again. Taking it slow was going to be the death of him. He ran his hand over his crotch with a rueful sigh. He wished now he had paid more attention to his brother and Emma’s relationship.

  “Arrow has probably written a case study on them for the archives,” he muttered.

  A movement outside of the window drew his attention. Pleasure swept through him when he saw Samara pulling the small vehicle up to the barn across from the main house. Without thinking, he dematerialized and reappeared next to her.

  She stumbled back in surprise and he wrapped his arms around her to steady her. She muttered a muffled curse against his shoulder and glared at him before glancing around with a hint of panic in her eyes. He chuckled and she shook her head at him in admonishment.

  “You shouldn’t do things like that! Somebody might see you,” she hissed with dismay.

  “And then you would convince them that they didn’t see what they thought they saw. I am fully confident in your ability to ‘bullshit’,” he teased. “I learned a new human word,” he confided with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  She snorted and patted his chest. “You’re going to need something warmer than a thin shirt if we are going to go check out your spaceship,” she said.

  He held her hand and pulled her closer. Her swiftly inhaled breath told him that she was aware of his desire for her. He brought his face closer to hers and stopped a breath away from her lips.

  “Perhaps you could keep me warm,” he suggested.

  She curled her fingers around his and gazed up at him with wide eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and he could see his reflection in her eyes. His irises were glowing.

  “It’s a shame I can’t bottle your sexuality. I’d be a billionaire by the end of the week,” she breathed out.

  Her comment startled a laugh out of him and he pressed a hard, possessive kiss on her lips. He gave her a wink as he pulled back a step. A groan stuck in his throat when she parted her pink lips and swept the tip of her tongue across her upper lip.

  “The only one I want is you, Samara,” he replied in a thick voice.

  A blush rose in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. Hell, her entire body was glowing. He didn’t need a coat. The warmth of her aura was wrapped around him, heating his body, and calling to him.

  “I’m off for the rest of the day thanks to Bear. I thought I could help you search for your mysterious device again,” she said.

  He frowned when she mentioned the other man’s name. “What is hot chocolate?” he asked.

  She laughed. “It’s a yummy treat that’s perfect on a cold day. How about I make some to take with us, along with some sandwiches, while you get ready?” she suggested.

  “That… would be nice,” he replied.

  He thought about reminding her that he didn’t need to return to the house to get ready, but the shy excitement in her eyes held his tongue. Unable to resist, he stepped forward and pressed another kiss on her upturned lips. She responded, touching the tip of her tongue to his bottom lip before pulling away when the sound of tires crunching on the frozen ground warned them that they were about to have a visitor.

  She stepped away from him and turned toward the approaching vehicle. Adalard sighed when he saw Mason’s familiar face. The man was really trying his patience.

  They waited as Mason pulled the truck up in front of the barn. He swore the human was taking his sweet time getting out of the vehicle just to annoy him. Folding his arms across his chest, he glared at Mason when the man raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Good afternoon, Samara,” Mason greeted.

  “Hey, Mason,” Samara greeted
with an easy smile.

  Mason nodded at him. “Adalard.”

  “Mason,” he responded.

  Mason’s gaze swept over the UTV, pausing on the trailer attached to the back of it. “Looks like you’ve been busy this morning,” he said, returning his attention to Samara.

  “Yeah. I finished distributing hay to the upper pasture,” she said.

  Mason frowned. “How’s your head?” he asked, studying her.

  Samara lifted a hand to the bandana. “My head… is fine,” she replied with a grimace. “Who told you?”

  Mason chuckled. “Half the crew on the ranch go to the Cattleman’s Bar. Bobby said you were out with Bear and your brother showed up being an ass. He was worried because he said you were bleeding pretty good when the strange survivor guy from the ranch suddenly appeared and swooped in. He said you both vanished,” he dryly relayed.

  “Yeah, well, lucky for me, Adalard showed up and drove me back to the ranch,” she said.

  “She knows who and what I am,” Adalard suddenly stated.

  Mason’s eyes widened before he pursed his lips and shook his head. “So much for keeping a low profile. Who else knows?”

  “No one,” Adalard replied.

  “No one,” Samara repeated, looking at Adalard with concern.

  Mason snorted. “After last night’s little performance, you’ve got more than one tongue wagging like a dog’s tail when it sees a bone. What part of keeping a low profile didn’t you understand?” he growled.

  Samara stepped forward and touched Mason’s arm. “I was hurt pretty bad, Mason. Adalard helped me. It isn’t his fault that my brothers are idiots.”

  Mason’s expression softened and he nodded. “I’m thankful for his help, but this is bigger than either of us. If the government found out about Adalard… well, things could get complicated very quickly. The world isn’t ready to know there are… people like Adalard and the others,” he replied.