The Nymph King

He was not embarrassed by this display, however. No, he was elated. If Valerian, the most desired of the nymphs, failed to woo her, his men would know that they were destined to fail with her, as well. And by choosing her and failing, they would be forced to sleep alone this night, something they would hope to avoid. For right now, they wanted sex. Not love, not a mate. Just sex.

Valerian had to force himself to frown when he tapped her bottom, knowing it would encourage her antics all the more.

She screeched. “Did you just spank me? Tell me you didn’t just spank me, Valerian, before I introduce your nose to my fist. Again.”

Ah, he loved hearing his name from her soft, pink lips. Because her face was so pale, the color of her lips stood out like a beacon, lush and begging to be sampled.

“I’m waiting,” she growled.

“No. You’re beautiful.”

At first her expression softened and he was given a glimpse of a sweet and vulnerable female. He almost kissed her, unable to help himself. Then fury sparked in her eyes, driving away the heart-melting image. “Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t like it.”

He blinked. She would rather he utter mean things? Interesting. Confusing and odd, as well, but something to ponder. Why would a woman want such a thing? Was it a defense against him?

“My king,” Broderick prompted. “We are ready. We have instructed the women to remain in line until they are chosen.”

A quick count revealed more men than women. “My elite will pick first,” Valerian said. They had fought in more wars, were stronger, faster, and needed sex more than an average solider.

The elite cheered. The others groaned in disappointment.

“Stay quiet,” he said to his woman, knowing very well she would do the opposite. “And stay in this line. My men need a good look at you.”

To his utter delight, she retorted, “Like hell. No matter how eager everyone else might be, I will not quietly accept this T-and-A pageant. I will not passively stand here.”

Except…she didn’t bolt. No, she pressed into his side, allowing him to surround her with his strength, though she still wouldn’t face him. Her shoulder brushed his chest, and several strands of her silky hair caught in his nipple loop. He could hear the erratic beat of her heart, could feel the warmth of her soft, soft skin.

He splayed his fingers over her rib cage, and she shivered.

He had to see her face, had to see what emotions lingered there. Helpless, he cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. Their gazes clashed and held. The rest of the world faded away, as it always seemed to do when he looked at her. Her eyes were dark velvet, rich and warm, absolutely riveting in her pale face.

“What is your name?” he found himself asking again.

“There’s no reason for you to know,” she said breathlessly. She licked her lips, then ran the plump bottom between her teeth. His cock jumped in reaction. “I’m leaving soon. Very soon.”

As if he would ever allow this delicious morsel to leave him. “If I promise to help you drive these men away,” he whispered, “will you tell me?”

“I—maybe.” Her eyelids slitted, and the length of her lashes cast spiky shadows over her cheeks. “Why would you help me?”

Why indeed. The answer should be obvious to her. “I want to keep you for myself.” He stated the words as baldly as possible, smiling slowly, eagerly. He needed an extreme reaction from her. Anything to appall his men further.

As he’d hoped, she began struggling against him. “I am not a piece of meat. This is not a buffet. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Valerian forced himself to sigh. “If you will not remain in line, I will be obligated to hold you here.” A wave of triumph swept through him. Things were working out just as he’d hoped. “Broderick,” he called.

“Yes, my king.” Broderick stepped forward, his color high.

“As second-in-command and leader of the elite, you may have first choice.” Valerian loosened his hold on his captive so that her movements were more obvious. She squirmed all the harder, her pants and grunts filling the air. The actions, the sounds, aroused him.

Broderick grinned and approached the females, starting at the far end. Feminine twitters and purrs echoed throughout the spacious enclosure. “Pick me, pick me,” erupted.

Relishing his role, the warrior slowly edged his way down the line, stopping here and there to unzip a woman’s dress and peek at her breasts. For a joyous few, he also sampled a taste of their nipples. Unfortunately, he had not made his selection by the time he reached the little moonbeam, and he studied her with desire in his emerald eyes.

Valerian’s jaw clenched. Mine, he thought again, tightening his grip.

Broderick reached out to part the woman’s grass skirt.

“I’m Shaye,” she said in a rush, the words almost a screech. “My name is Shaye Octavia Holling.”

Valerian knew immediately what she wanted from him. I’ll help you drive the men away if you tell me your name, he’d promised her. Promised Shaye. Shaye. He rolled the name over his tongue, savoring. Relishing. The name fit her. Seemingly cool, aloof, yet utterly sensual.

“Kick him,” he breathed into her ear. “Hard.”

She did so without hesitation, bringing up her leg and slamming her foot into Broderick’s stomach. The stunned warrior propelled backward, tripped over his own feet and tumbled to the ground. The rest of the army burst into gales of laughter. Broderick popped to a stand, frowning at Shaye in confusion.

Valerian bit back a grin. His second-in-command quickly selected a pretty, sedate brunette. They rushed from the dining hall without a backward glance. One down…

“Dorian.” Valerian nodded to the black-haired man, whose muscled body emitted a palpable air of eagerness. “You are next.” To Shaye—ah, he couldn’t get enough of her name, as delicate and lovely as the woman herself—he whispered, “When he approaches you, ignore him. Do not even look at him.”

“Are you sure?” Shaye couldn’t believe she was relying on Valerian to get her out of this mess. He was the one responsible for it! But she could think of no alternative. Letting one of these barbarians “claim” her, then drag her away and do God knows what to her, held no appeal. “Won’t ignoring him bring out all his caveman instincts?”

“Not with this man.” He sounded amused.

Dorian had onyx hair and irises so blue they rivaled the ocean in purity. His mouthwatering beauty was something out of a fairy tale. Somehow, his features were even more perfect than Valerian’s. He didn’t make her ache, however. He didn’t fill her mind with X-rated images of naked, straining bodies.

Shaye’s stomach churned with nervousness as the man followed Broderick’s example and considered every woman in line. He looked, he tasted, he enjoyed a little too much. Shaye was offended for the women. How dare he treat them so casually? It didn’t matter that they seemed to love it. Didn’t matter that they asked for more.

When he reached her, he remained out of striking distance and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He studied her, his intense gaze lingering on her every curve. Several seconds ticked by and Valerian stiffened.

“Remove the shells,” Dorian finally said. “I would see your breasts.”

Ignore him had been Valerian’s advice. She turned her chin away from Dorian and studied her cuticles. If he tried to remove the bra himself, he’d walk away with a bloody stump in place of his hand.

“Did you not hear me, woman? I said, remove the shells.”

She yawned—a nearly impossible feat. With Valerian’s strong arms banded around her, she was foolishly turned on. Not bored. Despite every other emotion—fear, anger, affront—her desire had remained. Grown. She didn’t feel like her normal self around the vain, egotistical giant. She felt like a sexual being whose only purpose was pleasure. Giving and receiving it.

Why had she not felt this way on any of the dates she’d gone on? Why now? Why this man?

Dorian expelled a frustrated breath. He tangled a hand through his silky hair and eyed his boss. “Valerian, make her look at me.”

Valerian lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I cannot force her eyes to you.”

“But—”

“Is she the one you want or not?” The words lashed from him, abrupt, harsh. Filled with impatience. “The others are waiting for their turn.”

A scowl darkened Dorian’s features. He spun away from Shaye and stalked to the only redhead in the group. “I choose you.”