The Savage King (11 page)

Ulyssa slid across the marble floor on her naked back, leaving a trail of soapy water in her wake. Her arms and legs flailed in the air as she tried to stop. He would have thought it comical, if not for the sound of her panic.

Believing she was under attack, Kirill sprung into action. He leapt over the couch, flying through the air to land next to her sprawled body. As a reflex, sharp claws grew from his fingertips and fangs from his gums. Ready to defend her, he sniffed the bathroom. He could detect no danger. In fact, he could detect nothing at all.

"What is it?" he asked in a near growl. He slowly retracted his claws and fangs. His eyes glimmered with a golden-green interest as he looked down at the floor. His body was tense, his blood stirred, ready for a fight--for action of any kind. The heightened state of his senses easily turned to the naked woman beneath him, covered in soapsuds. He licked his lips, watching the little bubble trails make their way over her flesh from her hair.

Ulyssa whimpered and tried to stand. "I ... need ... a medic."

"What?" Kirill asked, leaning over to hear her. He inhaled, trying to detect blood and smelled nothing but the fragrance of soap mixed with the distinctness of her womanly scent. The aggression moved down his body to gradually fill his loins.

"I need a medic!" she yelled in frustration, shaking. "I ... there's something wrong with me. I'm ... melting!"

Kirill's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He looked her over. She looked fine to him--more than fine. He hid his grin.

"This human word, melting. Does it mean burnt?" he asked, wondering if he didn't understand her. Her flesh was a darker shade of red from hot water, as if she soaked for a long time or was scalded. He leaned over to help her stand when what he really wanted to do was crawl forward onto her, trapping her wet form beneath him. With much effort, he refrained.

Gripping her arm in his firm hold, he hauled her up. Her feet slipped as she struggled to find footing. He held her before him. Instantly, his eyes went over her naked body, first taking in her wet soapy breasts. His mouth went dry.

Red blonde trails of wet hair stuck to her shoulders, ringing down around the side curves of her breasts. Her dusky nipples were puckered and hard, standing proud from the creamy globes. His gaze followed the soap trails down her flat stomach to where they were held captive by the narrow strip of nether hair between her beautiful thighs. His mind went blank, unable to perceive anything but the idea that the soap would make him glide so sweetly into her tight body.

Every primal instinct inside him roared to life. His body responded in the only way it could. His shaft grew with a sudden force of desire, pressing and throbbing against his tight pants. If not for the nef, he would've tossed her over the back of his couch and had his wicked way with her--whether she was ready for him or not.

"No, not burnt. I'm withering," Ulyssa said in a panic, not seeing his sudden discomfort or the fact that he eyed her like a beast after a meal.

Kirill's darkening eyes darted up to her trembling lips before looking at her pale face. Her eyes were a little red where she'd rubbed them and her hair stuck up at places from her scalp. It took him a moment to comprehend her words. She looked comical. He couldn't help himself, as he started to chuckle.

"Here," a panicked Ulyssa demanded. She held out her hands for Kirill's inspection. "It's not funny. Look! I think I used acid or something. I'm withering away."

Kirill looked down at her fingers as she shoved them up into his face. He grabbed her hands to pull them back so he could see. Her body shook violently. He could smell her terror and it stirred an odd protectiveness within him. Looking at her hands, he laughed anew. Her fingers and palms were red from the heat and wrinkled from too much time spent in the bathwater.

Ulyssa jerked from him and tried to step back. Her feet slipped on the soapy stone and she ended up falling forward into his arms. Kirill caught her with a grunt.

"I'm glad you think my dying is so funny, you ... you savage!" She struggled against him, but her feet slipped and she only ended up jerking around in his arms.

Getting a closer view of her soap-smothered hair, Kirill couldn't stop laughing. The troubles of the Var and Draig melted from his mind. "Just how much soap did you put onto your head? Half the bottle?"

"Oh, it was the soap wasn't it! Was I not supposed to use the purple? Does it do something to humans?" Her wide blue eyes looked at him, pleading with him for help. "Is it for morphing? What's it turning me into?"

Kirill let his arms wrap around her waist and he pulled her intimately close to keep her still. Ulyssa gasped and stopped breathing as the fire of his arousal hit her stomach. She made a weak sound in the back of her throat and he could smell the instant downpour of her desire for him.

"You're not dying," he said calmly, softly. His dark gaze dipped possessively to her mouth. "You stayed in the water too long. And the soap you used is for the skin, not the hair. Have you never taken a bath before?"

"Decontaminators," she sighed by way of an explanation. She shivered from the cold against her naked back now that the scare was over.

Kirill let a sexy smile line his features. "Hum, well, as long as you're undressed and wet, I might as well teach you how to properly use the bath."

"I don't want to go back in there," she said in all earnest.

Kirill leaned forward to nuzzle he cheek with light kisses. "Mmmm. How about the shower? I'd very much like to have you wash me and you do need to rinse off."

"Hey, I'm not your maid," she growled, trying to push him away. His gentle laughter over her predicament stung. A blush of embarrassment tried to sting her cheeks, she swallowed it back.

"Ah, but you are my mistress, Lyssa, for three months at least. And I have needs a mistress must tend to," he said, a low crackling in his throat as he rubbed his hard erection into her wet stomach. Soap and water soaked into his clothes, sticking the material to their flesh.

"I agreed to be ... subservient.…" Ulyssa cringed, barely able to say the word aloud, "....in public, but in private you have no power over what I do."

Kirill pulled back and frowned. His hand moved to her arms to hold her away from his body. Very serious, he stated, "I am King."

"Didn't take long for the title to go to your head, did it?" she mocked.

Ulyssa took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart. She'd been truly terrified. Now, it just seemed silly and she couldn't help but be humiliated. She didn't do well embarrassed, so instead she did the most natural thing--she started an argument.

Besides, if this man thought she'd play housekeeper and bedwarmer slave for three months, he was sorely mistaken. Letting her voice dip into a sultry murmur, she proposed, "Tell ya what, your highness. How about I behave and act submissive in public and you be submissive to me in private. I think it only fair."

Kirill's features hardened. Very sternly, he stated, "A man can't bow to a woman, Lyssa, and still call himself a man."

She trembled at the low timbre of his words. The distance between them was agony. She was hot for him. Her stomach stung with the discomfort of her desire.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" she shot. Placing her hands on her hips, she faced him without thought of her nakedness.

"It's logic," he stated. "A man ruled by a woman is ruled by weakness."

"So women are weak?" She would never admit it, but she'd thought about him all morning, until she was nearly mindless with desire. Suddenly, playing washerwoman didn't sound so horrific. In fact, if it gave her a chance to feel his hard body for herself, it could be downright pleasurable.

"Yes," he answered without flinching. His hand rose to caress her cheek. She didn't move. Softly, he continued, "They're the softer sex. They're to be ruled, protected. It's why their bodies are softer, slighter than a man's. A man who dares to love a woman will have weakness in that love for he'll consider her opinion over his. And, if the enemy wishes to strike him, they will strike his heart to get to him. I'm a man who must lead a kingdom. Do you think I can do so if my people think me weak? I can't afford weakness. I'm the highest Var power on Qurilixen, just below our Gods. So, you see, a King can never be subservient. I can't bow to you--not even in private."

Ulyssa considered his barbarian logic and continued to stare at him. She detected a sadness in him, a loneliness. She saw the strain of his position in his eyes and was sorry for it.

"Kingdoms are only as strong as their rulers," Kirill said. Then, seeming to struggle, he added, "I don't want you making too much of our time together. Nothing can come of it. I'll never be able to commit to you fully."

Ulyssa almost laughed. "Think pretty highly of your skills as a lover, don't you?"

His shoulder lifted in a manly shrug, as if he had only been stating a fact.

"It's good to know the Var King doesn't have self-esteem issues." This time she did giggle. "Don't worry, your most royal highness. I think I'll be able to pry myself from you when the time comes."

"Lyssa," he began in warning to her insolent tone.

"Easy, highness." Ulyssa licked her lips. She kind of liked his Me-Man-Hear-Me-Roar attitude. She'd never put up with it for a lifetime, but it was damned sexy in a lover. Forcing a playful pout to her lips, she asked, "So you can't even play? How sad."

"Play?" Kirill asked, confused.

"Leave work at the door--that sort of thing. You don't see me stressing over my job."

"Ah, but your job isn't ruling half a planet." Kirill gaze moved over her face, taking her in. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he held back. His eyes shifted with gold, turning from their dark depths as he looked intensely at her.

Ulyssa felt her body stir with more than just desire. She didn't like it. He had said it himself. Nothing could come of this. She didn't want anything to come of this, did she?

Ulyssa swallowed. No, definitely not. She had a job, a ... mission. Well, she'd have a mission once the Agency picked her up of the barbaric rock of a planet she was trapped on--new mission, new adventure. Her eyes dipped to his mouth and back to his eyes.

She sighed. That must be what her problem was. She was bored! That's why she spent too many hours contemplating Kirill! She wasn't preoccupied with him. She was preoccupied with boredom. Just because the unattainable was before her didn't mean she had to fight to obtain it. What did she want with a King anyway?

Relaxing now that she had it all figured out, Ulyssa let her lids fell languidly over her eyes. She gave a small, sexy moan. This was just sex. The barbaric King was just another adventure to be had. Leaning into him, she pursed her lips. "You're very serious, you do know that, right? You should loosen up a little--relax."

"And you're very naked," he answered, letting his gaze fall over her. His fingers glided down over her shivering skin to ring circles around an erect nipple.

"Mm, and very cold." Ulyssa inhaled a shaky breath. With each pass of his finger, shockwaves erupted beneath her skin, traveling down her stomach to make her body even more ready.

"Fire," he stated loudly and the fireplace blazed. His lips parted as he leaned over to flick his tongue over a ripe nipple. "Come with me to the shower and warm up."

Ulyssa gasped.

Kirill's lips captured hers before she could answer. His words were a command and she found she didn't really care. His mouth sawed passionately against her, instantly weakening her knees. She fell forward into his chest, moaning in delight of his touch.

She wasn't sure how he did it, but he was absolutely, hands-down the best kisser she'd ever experienced. There was something to the confidence of his movement, reflecting the grace of his body. It was in the way he tasted, the way he teased and gave. His tongue probed and conquered her mouth until she was left panting and weak. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled his body tight to hers. She soaked in his heat as his arms lifted her from the floor. Walking with her slender body dangling along his tightly wrought one, he carried her to the bathroom.

Parting from the kiss, he stated hoarsely, "Shower on."

The shower sprayed warm water. Ulyssa's fingers moved to work the laces on his shirt. Kirill pulled back, dropping his arms to the side at her insistence to let her undress him. His eyes burned into her as he watched her naked body. Deftly, she pulled the shirt off his shoulders, stopping to kiss and touch the length of his chest. He hadn't let her explore the night before and now she itched to feel every hot inch of his smooth flesh, to discover if he tasted as good as he looked.

Ulyssa loved the graceful way his muscles folded beneath his tanned skin when he moved. His dark eyes pierced, watching her, fighting to command her. Ulyssa might play, but she wasn't his to control. A smile twitched on her lips as she realized she wanted what he said was impossible. She wanted to make him her bed slave. She wanted him to bow to her, even if it was only in private.

Turning his own look on him, she stalked around him as if he were her prey. Kirill's dark eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, as if he could sense her intentions. Ulyssa touched his back, rubbing at his neck, up into the silky locks of his hair. She pressed her chest into his back as her fingers trailed down over his strong arms. His firm backside hit her stomach, taut and sculpted beneath the pants. Exploring him thoroughly, she finally made her way to untie the laces at his hips.

Kirill was panting heavily by the time she worked the first lace loose. His chest moved as he fought for breath. Her hands dipped along the cross-laces to the perfect indentions of his buttocks. Her touch curved around his flat stomach, edging the waistband from his skin, tickling the divot of his navel. She let him feel the cooled tips of her breasts at his warm back, rubbing lightly along his skin.

Then, with a catlike smile curling her features, she pulled back and moved to the shower. When she turned, his sharp gaze was on her. She stood, holding the door open as he stared. The hot water hit her skin, warming her even more, washing the remnants of soap from her flesh.