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Authors: Eve Jameson

BOOK: Aurora's Promise
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That’s when she turned away from him, grabbed her sleep
shirt and toiletry bag out of her suitcase and locked herself in the bathroom.
And now she stood staring at her reflection in the mirror ten minutes later,
still trying to get her body under control and forget what that man could do to
her with a single look.

What the hell was that? Ellen had said that Brooke described
the Ilyrian warriors as big, sexy and running on testosterone overload most of
the time, but she hadn’t expected…well, expected
him
. He’d instantly
knocked her off her game when she’d glanced up and found him standing there,
just looking at her and waiting.

The man was undeniably gorgeous. Capital letters all the way
GORGEOUS
. He’d untied his hair and it hung loose and long down his back.
His long-sleeved t-shirt hugged his amazing chest and shoulders. The jeans he
wore made it very obvious that unless he walked around with a sock stuffed in
his crotch, the man was
blessed.
Her cunt had started to throb, her
nipples hardened and a deep yearning curled through her belly.

And she had made a break for it. Dammit.

Not because she was afraid of sex or even sex with an alien,
though that thought still made her nervous if she dwelled on it too long. But
she had to get to Ilyria and Connyn was her only ticket into that world. There
was too much riding on this for her to screw it up with screwing.

Just thinking about the way he wanted her and the pleasure
his gaze promised turned her on more than most men had by the time they’d made
it to third base. Connyn was the living, breathing embodiment of all her sexual
fantasies rolled into a man who wanted her
bad.
Could she afford to give
up what he’d take if she slept with him? Where would that leave the control she
needed?

She glanced down at her chest and sighed.Her nipples
were still twin points poking through her bra and sweater. She knew where her
control would be. Completely at the mercy of his lust, that’s where.

Undoing the tie at the side of her wrap-around sweater she
let it slide off her arms and onto the floor. The mirror covered the wall
behind the sink and if she backed up close to the door, she could see herself
in it down to mid-thigh, just below where her skirt ended. She traced the hem
of her skirt around the front of her thighs, enjoying the faint buzz of sensation
in her pussy the action caused. She allowed a small smile and widened her
stance. If she satisfied herself right now, she’d certainly be less likely to
jump Connyn the moment they got into bed and maybe, just maybe, she’d be able
to get him worked up enough to keep him a little off balance without losing
herself in the process.

Running her palms up the outside of her skirt, she stopped
at the waist to splay her hands over her stomach before slowly pulling them up
until they cupped her breasts. She’d brought herself to orgasm plenty of times
but never in front of a mirror. Gently she pressed in the sides of her breasts
so the upper slopes rose above the top of the black lace and increased the
depth of her cleavage dramatically. If Connyn were watching her, she wondered
if he’d be fantasizing about putting his face or his cock between her breasts.

The thought of how hard and hot his cock must be when fully
aroused made the inner muscles of her cunt constrict and she knew she was
already getting wet. Was he a leg, ass or breast man? Was he a fast learner
when it came to a woman’s body? She tugged on her nipples through the black
lace. Would he remember how she liked her nipples teased with quick pinching
twists from one time to another?

Watching her breasts grow round and heavy as she teased her
nipples, she imagined Connyn’s large hands in place of her own. His hands were
big enough that he’d be able to cup her breasts in his palms as his fingers
worked her nipples.

Her breath was coming faster now and she could feel the
magic begin to hum in her blood. A flush had spread over her cheeks and her
eyes were bright with the need she was building. Hooking her index fingers into
the top of the bra, she pulled down the lace until her nipples were free. They
were nubbed and dark pink. Pushing her breasts up high, she gently bit first
one nipple and then the other before swiping her tongue over both.

Her cunt was throbbing now and demanded attention. With
fingers spread wide, she swept her hands down until they rested on her legs.
Lightly, she brushed her fingertips up the inside of her thighs until they
disappeared under her skirt. When they reached the top of her stockings, she
smiled at her reflection. It was Connyn’s loss that he was too sexy for her to
control her reaction to him. She was sure he’d have liked the black garter belt
and thong she wore under her skirt.

Tracking the front garters with her fingers, she pushed the
skirt up and out of the way. Standing there with her long hair streaming down
her back, her breasts spilling out of her lacy bra and her skirt pulled up to
reveal black stockings and a matching lace garter belt and thong, she let the
strength of her sensuality flood through her. Though the mirror was too high to
reflect it, she knew the picture was completed by her high-heeled leather
boots.

Damn. She could come right now with a couple of strokes on
her clit. Her body was primed and ready, the magic swirling and sparking,
pushing her further and faster. Simply thinking about Connyn had her mind right
there with her body. But she needed this orgasm to be a big one if it was going
to help deter her from jumping Connyn tonight once they got into bed.

The thought of being between the sheets and pressing herself
full-length against all that solid muscle nearly made her come without even
touching herself. She took a deep, calming breath and unbuckled her skirt
before undoing the zipper. Slowly she skimmed the skirt down her hips and
thighs, focusing on the slide of the cool leather over her skin and stockings.
She bent with the skirt’s descent until her hair brushed the floor in front of
her. The position sent an erotic thrill through her as the back garters pulled
tight against her skin and her thong snugged up between her ass cheeks putting
pressure on her clit.

Stepping out of her skirt, she spread her legs and took her
time coming back up. As she straightened, she dragged her hands up the back of
her legs to the curve of her bottom. She arched her back, pressing her ass into
her hands and squeezed. Pulled her cheeks apart and let the satin strip of her
thong rub along her crevice. Anal play was one of her favorite turn-ons if her
lover knew what he was doing and was careful about the necessary hygiene
requirements of that particular pleasure. She imagined Connyn teasing her
there. Gentle but firm, with plenty of lube to allow his finger to twist and
push in even deeper.

She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip to stop a moan.
She didn’t want Connyn rushing in thinking she was sick or in desperate need of
his cock. Tonight was not the time for an anal fantasy. If Connyn decided to
come through that door for any reason and she was in the middle of one of her
favorite daydreams, she’d have no choice but to jump his bones. She needed a
fantasy that wouldn’t overwhelm her completely.

Continuing to trace along her thong, she shook her hair out
of her face and looked in the mirror. Her full breasts swayed heavily with each
panting breath as her fingertips stroked over soaked satin. With one hand she
pulled aside the material and pushed the middle finger of her other hand into
her opening. Because of her position, she couldn’t go deep, but it was far
enough to feel her slick heat. Quickly she wiggled her finger in and out and
back and forth until she was panting and her cunt was starting to contract on
the edge of climax.

She pulled back, wanting more than a quick orgasm. Tonight
she needed a release intense enough to burn off all the sexual tension fogging
her brain. It was making her far too vulnerable to Connyn’s pull on her body.
Around him, she was beginning to feel like a pile of metal shavings trying to
stay away from a powerful magnet.

Reversing the direction of her fingers, she traced her thong
back up and over her hip, straightening as she did. She watched in the mirror
as her fingers rested over her sex, feeling her swollen labia and the throbbing
heat of her clit through her panties. Her mind threaded its way through a maze
of her favorite sexual daydreams, looking for the one that felt right and that she
could plug her “fantasy” Connyn into.

She smiled at her reflection as she selected an old
favorite. It had been spawned years ago when she was a teenager reading Johanna
Lindsey’s
A Pirate’s Love
instead of studying for her calculus exam. The
idea of being taken as an innocent by a handsome and extraordinarily sensual
pirate lover had inspired numerous variations on that theme in her sexual
daydreams ever since.

After pulling the shower curtain closed and starting the
shower to let the noise cover any indication that she wasn’t simply cleaning up
after a long day, she scooted up on the vanity and leaned back into the corner
against the wall and mirror. Propping one foot up on the counter next to the
sink, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes.

Oh yes. Connyn would definitely fit this scenario. With his
swaggering primeval attitude and maxed-out testosterone levels, he might be a
real-life pain in the ass but he made a
perfect
fantasy pirate. She
grazed her fingernails very lightly over her panties, circling her clit.
Tonight she’d be Phoebe, a young woman who had been kidnapped as she was
sailing across the ocean to be married off to a suitable match her uncle had
chosen for her. She licked her lips and visualized Connyn in tight leather
breeches and a billowing white shirt opened to the waist and let a shiver of
anticipation thrill through her.

The heavy wooden door to the captain’s quarters swung
open. Captain Kilth strode in with his normal predatory arrogance. At least
some things had become predictable in the days since she’d been abducted and
forced onto this vessel. Unfortunately, her reaction to his presence was also
becoming predictable. His long brown hair was tied back at the nape of his
neck, revealing a silver earring that matched the silver glint in his eyes as
they swept over her. She couldn’t stop her nipples from pebbling or the heat
beginning to swirl low in her belly. She couldn’t control her body’s reaction,
but she could use it to fuel her anger.

“I demand you release me.”

His eyebrows lifted in amusement. They had this same
conversation every night. Every night, he ignored her demand and tossed her
onto the bed. He’d hold her next to him, his arm around her waist and his heavy
leg thrown over both of hers, keeping her in place and completely trapped. He’d
fall asleep within minutes, which drove her crazy since it took her hours to
accomplish the same task. In the morning, he was always gone by the time she
woke up.

“Now,” she said.

A corner of his mouth quirked up as he crossed his arms
over his massive chest. He tilted his head toward the door. “Be my guest.”

The deep, accented voice sent the heat fluttering in her
belly straight south and nearly made her knees buckle. From the way he was
looking at her, she thought his invitation was meant to imply something
entirely different than her release. Curling her hands into fists, she set her
shoulders back and marched toward the door. Her hand was on the doorknob when
his next words stopped her.

“However, there’s a crew out there who’d be counting
their blessings that you’d decided you’d rather bunk with them than with me.”

She dropped her hand and turned to face him. “Those are
my two options? Sleep with you or sleep with them?”

He nodded.

“I choose neither. I demand you return me to my uncle. I’m
sure the law will be more lenient on you if your actions are voluntary.”

His smile vanished. “No.”

Phoebe’s temper flared. First her uncle had tossed her at
the highest bidder for her hand in marriage and given her no choice or warning
in the matter before shipping her off to a country she’d never heard of. Then
she’d nearly been shot by the captain of the merchant vessel during her
kidnapping by this egotistical beast while the other women on board had been
merely locked away in the hold.

“You are nothing more than an arrogant, brutish,
unspeakable, repulsive ogre!” She’d advanced on him during her tirade and swung
her hand out to strike him with the last word.

He snatched her hand by the wrist before she could
connect and used it to spin her around, trapping her against him and unable to
move with her back to his chest. The hand she’d lashed out with was still in
his grip, pinned between them. His other arm wrapped around her front, just
below her breasts, immobilizing her further. When he spoke, his breath was warm
on her skin and his lips brushed the side of her neck.

“Arrogant, yes. Brutish, at times. Unspeakable, possibly.
Repulsive? Hard to believe considering the women who’ve fallen willingly into
my bed. And ogre? Obviously you were running low on other more appropriate
terms. Perhaps your vocabulary is as lacking as your instruction on pleasing a
man.”

She stiffened at his final comment, but before she could
form a retort, he bit down lightly on what apparently was a very sensitive spot
on her neck. The fluttering sensation that had been spreading through her body
was abruptly replaced by a streaming fire that momentarily stole her ability to
stand. His low laughter brought her quickly back to her senses.

“Looks like you’re a quick learner, Miss Ballantine. That’s
exactly the response that would please any man.”

“I…I didn’t mean it.”

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