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  “Never letting you go,” he promised as he pressed her against the wall and kissed her. Like a flower opening to the sun, she parted her lips. He groaned in approval, the sound triumphant as he drove his tongue into her mouth and took what he wanted.

  Whimpering in need under the onslaught of his lips, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders. She needed to touch him. Needed proof that this was real, that she wasn’t dreaming it. That he’d really said he loved her.

  “Don’t. I don’t want you to,” she murmured as he moved onto her neck, hot kisses leaving a trail of fire. One hand braced on the wall above them, he bracketed her body with his, as though he was protecting her from the world beyond.

  “This is just ugly as hell.” His other hand snaked around her neck and stripped the hospital gown from her in three quick and efficient movements. The fabric dropped unheeded to the floor to join the sheet.

  He sucked a ragged breath in, eyes dark as they swept over her revealed body. A muscle jumped at the corner of his jaw. “You get sexier every time I see you. How do you do that?”

  Unsure how to answer that, she just shrugged. The movement set her naked breasts jiggling. Instantly his attention snapped to them and the black of his eyes swallowed the green. Clenching his fists, he looked down at her, but didn’t touch. Unbidden, her nipples tightened into dark little buds. Inviting the touch of his fingers, his lips. An image of his head bent over her, dark against her pale skin as he suckled her, filled her mind. Heat arrowed through her body, her clit aching as she fought to contain her whimper.

  “I should have said this earlier. If you don’t want this, you can leave.” The words were low and tightly controlled, as though forced out of him grudgingly.

  “Cael will take you back to a Fleet colony or you can stay here. You’ll…” He paused, as though he didn’t want to say what he was going to. When he carried on, the words were little more than a growl of anger. “You’ll find plenty of men willing to offer you their protection.”

  The last small knot in Samara’s heart worked its way loose and disappeared. He was offering her freedom. She wasn’t a prisoner. She had a choice.

  “Do you know what they say about letting something go?”

  He looked puzzled, the scowl still in place. His body almost vibrated with the control it was taking to stay in place and not touch her. Samara smiled and slipped under his arm.

  “If it returns to you, it’s yours.” She smiled over her shoulder. “Lyon, if you don’t take me to bed right now, I’ll go look up that fan club.”

  The growl behind her was a warning one. She squealed and darted into the bedroom, almost making it to the bed before he caught her. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, taking her off her feet to be held against a broad chest.

  “You like a bit of danger, don’t you, sweetling?” His voice was a rumble in her ear. Taking the opportunity, she pressed her ass against the impressive erection straining his pants.

  “Danger?” she teased, her voice light and her heart soaring. “You call this danger? I’ve seen more action on a ward of geriatrics.”

  He dropped her onto the bed. A breathless giggle escaped her as she tried to scramble away up the bed. A hard hand closed around her ankle and flipped her over onto her back.

  “So, it’s action you want, is it?”

  Looming over the bed, he stripped off his shirt. Caught like a butterfly impaled on a pin, she watched as the wide, heavily muscled expanse of his chest was revealed. She licked her lips, already anticipating exploring him with her lips and tongue.

  “Then it’s action you’ll get. If you think you can handle it…”

  She pretended to yawn as he kicked his boots off and started on his pants. His cock sprang free, purple-headed and heavily veined. A shiver of excitement ran down her spine. Her body was hot and heavy, her pussy aching to be filled. Lazily she lifted her hands and cupped the heaviness of her breasts, flicking her thumbs over the beaded nipples. His gaze followed her every movement.

  “All talk, no action.”

  His eyes flashed fire. Closing his hand around her ankle, he dragged her over the bed toward him. She giggled and tried halfheartedly to escape. It didn’t work. It wouldn’t have worked even if she was actually trying to get away. Within seconds he had her ass on the edge of the bed, her legs spread.

  “All talk, huh?” He lifted an eyebrow. “How about no talk? I have better things to do with my tongue.”

  This time she didn’t get a chance to giggle, just moan as he spread her legs further and his hot mouth engulfed her clit. He didn’t bother with exploratory sweeps or teasing her. Instead he tongued the small bundle of nerves, sucking and licking until she saw stars, broken whimpers of pleasure falling from her lips.

  With each sweep he drove her higher, until the fire in her veins became an inferno. It was a sensual attack with one very specific purpose—to take her to the edge at jump speed. Hands hard on her hips, he drove his tongue into her aching cunt and groaned loudly before going back to her clit.

  “Yes, yes! I’m…” She panted, holding him to her, the short stubble of his hair like velvet against her fingers. In response, he nibbled on her clit and sucked. Hard.

  A scream, his name, escaped her as she came, pleasure shattering through her body like a thousand shards of glass. An orgasm so complete and intense it verged on painful.

  “Oh God, yes! Fuck me now,” she moaned.

  He was moving as she spoke. Crawling up the bed, he caught the back of her knee over a well-muscled forearm. Lifting her leg, he opened her completely to him as her body pulsed and trembled with her climax. A groan of pleasure in the back of his throat he fit the thick head of his cock against her and drove himself home in one movement.

  “Hmmmm.”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head as her body stretched, feeling that combination of pleasure and pain that was utterly addictive. Before she could savor it, he moved. Bracing himself with an arm above her, he held her leg high and pulled back, then slammed into her again with a small grunt. Then again and again. Within a minute he’d set the pace hard and fast as he took her with an intensity Samara found breathtaking.

  She wrapped herself around him, her hands gentle and her lips softer as she kissed along his jaw. She thought she’d be able to hold out, see him to the end as her hips matched his in perfect sync. Not a chance. A familiar tightening started deep in her stomach as he fucked her…no, it was more than fucking. There was desperation and promise in the way he held her, the way he touched her…as if he was pledging himself to her and claiming her all at the same time.

  “Ugh, I’m…”

  “Let it go, sweet, I want to feel you come all over my cock. I need to feel your heat over my cock,” he whispered against her ear, nipping the lobe. Unable to hold on any longer, she did on a gasp and a long shudder.

  “Fuck me!” he groaned, increasing speed as his cock plunged into the slick, heated softness of her body. She was heat and desire and…just everything. She was his everything, his perfect match, and now he had her. As he slammed into her one last time, Lyon’s release hit him like a starship on attack and his cock pulsed and jerked deep within her, pouring out his passion and his love into her body.

  Wrapping himself around her, he dropped a kiss onto her perfect lips and sighed. The fight for freedom wasn’t over, but he had his Jilan-ma and, for the moment, Lyon was at peace.

  About the Author

  Multi-published author Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land-surveying, she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her real-life hero and their young daughter…the true boss of the family.

  Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity, Mina never tires of learning new skills, which has led to aromatherapy, corsetry, chain-mail making, welding, canoeing, shooting, and pole-dancing, to name but a few.

  She juggles being a mum, working full time and
writing, tossing another ball in the air for her cover artwork. For Mina, writing time is the wee hours of the morning before anyone wakes up and starts making demands or any spare minute that can be begged, bought or conned.

  Her first stories were penned at age 11, when she used a stationery set meant for Christmas thank you letters to write stories instead. More recently, she wrote for her own amusement and to save on outrageous monthly book bills. Now she’s totally addicted and needs her daily writing fix or heads roll!

  Mina welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Mina Carter

  Her Empath

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