Pure Desire [Pure 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (10 page)

“Yes,” she said. The words soft as dove wings, the heat of her breath still singed his lips.

“Damn it, Allura, you don’t know me.” It was close to a plea, a desperate, groaned warning.

She went toe-to-toe with him. “You don’t scare me either, Noor Rynoir.”

“Hell, Allura, I was afraid you would say that.” His lips covered hers, his tongue parting the honey-tasting fullness, and he dived into sweetness.

Her lips were velvety and intoxicating. The feel of her urgency, as strong as his own, pleased and enthralled him. She curled her tongue wickedly to meet his demanding kiss, matching his bold strokes, drawing him into the lure of pure desire.

He couldn’t help holding her closer, firmly against his body, cupping her bottom as he pressed her into his pelvis and slid her body to feel the hardness of his erection. He wanted her. He wanted inside her. He wanted to lift her, raise her skirts, and plunge his cock inside her until she screamed. Feel her squirm wildly in his arms, hold him tightly, and give into the demand of his body, which ached to fuck her senseless even knowing the detrimental outcome. Consequences be damned.

Needy and devouring, he melded their mouths together and kissed her lavishly until each panted breaths. Then abruptly, as if a bell towed a warning, Noor jerked back from her. No. Hell no. He couldn’t do this.

“I want you to leave, Allura.”

“I don’t want to go.” She reached for his shirt.

Stonily, he caught her fingers and enclosed the delicacy between his fingers. “I’m struggling, here, if you haven’t noticed. I’m asking you to leave before things go too far. No, further than they already have. This is insanity.”

“I don’t care.”

“Damn it, Allura, stop it. You don’t understand what’s going on between us.” He inhaled and released the air from his lungs slowly. “If you don’t go I will fuck you. Simple carnal fucking, no lovemaking, promises, or any of those whimsical fantasies girls like you dream of for their first time.”

“What makes you think I’m a virgin?”

Noor stepped back. He gave her a stern look, saying, “You are. You are innocent, sweetly addictive, and so damned hot I can’t keep my hands off you. Keep trying to push me and I will give you what you’re begging for. My long, hard, thick cock in your pussy,” he breathed. He immediately felt contrite, seeing his crudeness bruised her feelings. He offered no apology. To him that was like tossing her hope, and knowing his life depended on keeping Allura away from him, he stood tight-lipped to save them both.

She stood inert, emotionless, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell by her stance if she meant to cry or slam him in the gut. He preferred she’d strike him.

“I thought you were different, Noor. Apparently, I was wrong.”

“I did try to warn you earlier. You are a stubborn woman and too dangerous for your own good,” he quipped, briskly.

Allura’s eyelids lowered marginally, before flashing with a twinge of anger. “So you did. Well, I certainly won’t make the mistake of not heeding your advice again.” With that, she gathered her skirt, whirled around, and stalked from the room.

“Fuck,” Noor cursed beneath his breath.

Chapter Nine

Noor entered the dining hall and took a seat across from Allura. She acted as if he wasn’t seated there, refusing to face him. He acknowledged everyone with a general greeting before taking his seat. She pretended as if he didn’t exist, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was dressed in a lacy ruffled blouse, violet with white flowers, and a snug bodice that did little to hide her voluptuous cleavage. He couldn’t stop staring until Channing kicked his foot with his boot beneath the table.

“I apologize for being late,” he said.

Mr. Deverill nodded and said, “I’m afraid you only missed our in-depth discussion on how much hell Matt Graham will give you when he finds out you might challenge him for the McFarland property.”

“Excuse me?” Noor said.

“Channing said you were interested in purchasing a decent sized spread,” Mr. Deverill said.

“You explained to mother you wished to start a breeding ranch, if I recall. I assumed you meant to remain in Legend to do this.” Channing reminded him.

“Yes, of course, that is my intention. If this place you referenced is prime, I’m certainly interested in putting my bid in.”

Mr. Deverill said, “One of the finest pieces of lands in Legend. Plenty of acreage, good soil, and more importantly, fresh water runs right from the mountains through the land year round.”

“Then I definitely will want a look at it. Although, seeing what you have accomplished here, I can tell you understand the business. And if you recommend it, sir, I’d buy it without question before seeing it.”

“I highly recommend it, Noor. Even considered purchasing the plots once I learned the McFarlands have it up for sale. They are good people, elderly with no children, and Ferris is ill so his wife Charlotte wants to go back home to the city to aid him. She can’t handle the ranch by herself, even with several able bodied hands.” Mr. Deverill frowned. “You’re going to have a fight on your hands from Matt Graham, though. The rumor is he wants the property desperately. He doesn’t like to lose.”

“Especially since you killed his son,” Allura said briskly.

She was hurt, and he understood why she went for the jugular. He refused to entertain her and remained silent.

“Don’t act as if he murdered him, sis. Noor helped defend me. Harland tried to hang me if you recall.”

“As if that will make Mr. Graham more agreeable to anything, as we all know he is bristling to see you finally relinquish your bachelorhood and marry Caroline for getting her with child, if rumors are to be believed.”

Channing said, “Who put a cactus in your bed?”

“I was merely making an observation, brother.”

“A damned serious one, though false. Besides, I have dodged marriage this long and don’t intend to take a bullet anytime soon.”

Allura was quick to retort. “If you can avoid a bullet, one would think you could keep the many paternity suits father is saddled with monthly at bay too, or is that not a concern? You feel it is decent to run around and sow your wild oats and not take any responsibility for being impetuous, if not rash, in your actions with women?”

Channing scowled. “When did you become such a martyr of virtue? I mean in reference to other women, of course.”

Fawn raised her hand, refereeing, and commanded silence. She spoke using her maternal voice, which meant she was serious. “We have a guest, and both of you know it displeases me to hear you squabble in disagreement.” With her firm chastisement, she quieted both Channing and Allura. She turned to Noor, saying, “I hope your accommodations meet your satisfaction?”

“Yes, Allura was thorough and even provided me some background on your uncle Strong Wind. I feel honored you would allow me access to his quarters, Mrs. Deverill.”

“Please call me Fawn. We will say grace, and then begin supper before Consuela has a fit about the food getting cold. She labored over the meal for you, Noor, and I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure everything will meet with my approval,” he offered graciously while doing his best not to stare at the plate in front of him, all unidentifiable food he knew would test his palate.

Noor listened to Mr. Deverill give thanks to this god they worshipped. There was a round of amen that he didn’t understand, but he said it anyway when everybody looked at him expectantly. He stared at his plate, not sure where to begin. He followed Channing’s action when he cut into the thick brown meat on his dish, but he couldn’t bring himself to put it in his mouth. An earlier search of the database shockingly revealed they were eating their pets, who roamed freely on the property. This information sufficiently killed his appetite.

“Are you not hungry, Noor?” Fawn asked politely.

The thought of eating flesh didn’t appeal to him, but surrounded by the Deverill family, he knew there was only one possible response. “I’m starving,” he said, recalling Channing had said something similar. He assumed it was appropriate because nobody blanched. He cut into the meat and put it in his mouth, chewed, and forced himself to swallow. He was surprised. It wasn’t as distasteful as he believed. The flavor was an acquired taste, but he would manage, especially under scrutiny.

Mr. Deverill said, “Do you have any idea how many heads of cattle you want to purchase?”

“I’m afraid not. But my father left all the decisions up to me. I believe he considers this trip a learning adventure, which will hopefully keep me busy for an indefinite amount of time. I’m not sure if this arrangement isn’t more of a, ah, distraction and opportunity for me to reflect on actions as of late that I’m afraid have my father displeased, so to speak.”

Channing grinned. “To keep you occupied and out of trouble.”

“What kind of trouble are we talking about, son?” Mr. Deverill asked, wiping his mouth. He sat the linen aside and studied Noor with careful observation.

“Channing didn’t mean that literally. I’m not running from the auth—law or anything of an unscrupulous nature.” Mr. Deverill continued to stare as if his answer wasn’t satisfactory, a paternal frown of annoyance on his face. Clearly, he was only interested in an acceptable explanation. “I would respond, but I’m afraid it might raise the conversation again about, ah, paternity, and I believe Channing said avoiding the nuptial bullet.”

Allura glared at him as if to say, “I knew it,” and he wanted to tell her he lied. His father never bothered with whether he fathered a child out of marriage because it never happened. He was diligent, if nothing else, and made sure he blocked his seed from impregnating a woman. He couldn’t explain such without having to clarify the scientific explanation behind how he was capable of controlling the technique without aid of drugs or anything medical. Being part Magnus had its advantageous. He simply didn’t allow the blunder, no matter how many times he released inside a woman.

Mr. Deverill nodded, understanding.

Channing wouldn’t let it go. He glanced at Allura. “Why aren’t you starting in on your lecture with Noor?”

“Channing, you will not antagonize your sister,” Fawn said quietly, yet firmly.

“Mother, I merely was curious why my actions are deemed licentious behavior, and Noor doesn’t get as much as a slap on the wrist.”

Mortimer shot a glance at his son. “Don’t make your mother repeat herself. Besides, I think the entire topic should be dropped. Our focus should be on educating Noor about what he could potentially be getting into with Matt Graham.”

“He isn’t a likable fellow, I’m afraid. He treats us with indifference, as if we don’t have a right to be on our own land,” Fawn said.

Mortimer patted her hand soothingly. “Matt Graham is set in the old ways, dear.”

“I understand that and his propensity for using violence to get his way,” Fawn added.

“That’s because father has been a gentleman and did not pay him a visit with his guns. At least not yet, and actually, I look forward to the day when we ride over to his spread and settle matters the old-fashioned way,” Channing said.

“Surely you don’t mean you are going to mount forces on Matt Graham?” Fawn eyed Mortimer concerned.

“Channing is talking hypothetically.” Mortimer looked at Channing, giving him a silent caution to not speak.

Allura said, “You know Channing speaks in generalities and has a tendency to overexaggerate the matters and his preference for violence, mother. I’m sure he didn’t intend to unnecessarily upset you by talking about guns and danger,” she said, unsmiling.

“Is it a reason you are suddenly bitter with me, sis? You seem rabid,” Channing said, and then looked at Noor, as if he already guessed the answer to his question.

Noor remained focused on nothing in particular, preferring not to get into a sibling rivalry he knew he was responsible for and unsure if he spoke, Allura wouldn’t turn her wrath on him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve it, but he didn’t want two guns or three barrels—he remembered Allura carried a weapon—sticking in his face. He couldn’t be sure if Mrs. Deverill had a pistol, but the thought didn’t seem farfetched, as his mother could shoot a stunner with accuracy that equaled the males in his family.

Like his family, the Deverills seemed close, and they fiercely protected one another when they weren’t politely arguing among themselves.

It was the nature of a tight-knit clan. The Deverills’ bond reminded him of the Rynoirs, and the sudden thought made him uneasy about his mission. Not only would he be taking Allura away from her home, but her family. Suddenly his conscience began to bother him.

The mother of the intended of Oridus had to abide by rules and regulations and suffer under restrictions. Life as she knew it would be outdated, and her place at the helm of the Agaci legacy would demand constraint and obedience to the planet’s laws. The guardians would dictate her existence until her child came of age to take over the throne. A nation of people would watch and analyze her actions and destroy any chance of having privacy. Allura had a spirit that made him exuberant. It was refreshing to witness. However, as soon as he delivered her into the hands of the agency, her world of doing as she pleased would fade into the background and be snuffed out. They would likely kill the fire within her, destroy the fight, and possibly the woman who didn’t seem fragile but was delicate in his eyes.