The Taming: Book 3 in the Tribe Warrior Series Imogen Keeper (story reading .TXT) 📖

that she wasn’t alone, because he was inside her, and she’d never be alone again, because he’d always be there.

This was Tor being tender and sweet.

And then he wasn’t tender anymore, and he wasn’t sweet. He was rough and hard, and that was exactly what she loved most about him. He didn’t treat her like she’d break.

His hands were everywhere, in her hair, at her neck, roving up her back, down to her bottom, pulling her closer. And hers were worse, pulling at his hair and shoulders, thrust back to meet him.

Her throat was dry, her vision was dark, her breaths came too fast, and he was all she could see or hear or feel. He blocked out the light. It was as if some demon had invaded her body, everything tightening and coiling and building up.

The Argenti spoke of the red haze, a frenetic, riotous frenzy of sex and desperation, and this was all of that, as if something had changed deep down inside her and only one thing mattered. The beast within that surged to the surface.

“Oh, gods, I’m so close.” Her eyes drifted shut, and she let fly a long stream of incoherent ramblings.

Tor’s hand dragged up to seize her by the throat, face hard and dark above hers. “Stop calling on gods. Who’s inside you?”

“You.”

He kept on thrusting. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“That’s right. Me. Tor. You call my name when I fuck you.”

She’d have laughed, but he was thrusting and his cock found just the right place inside her, that the dam broke and an orgasm tore through her body so intense she screamed, and this time, it was his name she cried out. Tor.

His body moved in hard, jagged thrusts, his open mouth panting against her neck, his teeth there, pressing against the skin, a silent threat and a promise, his hands clenching on her body, his weight pressing her down, and the sounds he made. Low, beast-growls that called to something deep inside, that pulled her unstoppably toward another peak. “Abysmos,” he grunted against her neck.

“Who are you inside?” she said, surprised because it came out like a snarl.

He pulled up, eyes slightly out of focus, and looked at her. “What?”

She sank her nails into the firm curves of his bottom. “If I have to call your name when you fuck me, you can bloody well call my name back when you come.”

His lips curved, his eyes registering shock and surprise, and then his lips were on hers, and he was groaning her name into her mouth, thrust in deep, bottoming out inside her, and she felt the searing hot rush of him spurting inside her, all the way at her core, pulling at her chest, taking root and blooming.

His eyes flared, and she knew he felt it too. Maybe not a soul-bond, but something that connected them, let her feel his emotions, the sadness for Dillan and Jasto was there, the frustration at having to be regio, and a deep and boundless awe whenever he thought of her, a determination to keep her safe and make her happy, and what truly slayed her was the promise that he’d be the man she wanted him to be.

“You already are,” she told him. “So much more.”

Whatever it was he saw, he made a face she’d never seen him make before. “I love you,” he whispered.

He moved again, and the slippery, hot slide melted away her thoughts. This time, when she came, he was inside her, thick and hard and strong.

He traced his nose behind her ear. “You smell like me now.”

“I imagine I do. No more markings.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and another to her nose.

“So now we know that answer,” she said into his neck. “To that appalling joke.”

He laughed against her skin, warm breath skittering down her neck, sending shivers and sparks in its wake. “Maybe. For all we know, you’ll go into heat in a week, or in about five minutes you’ll go mad with lust.”

She hadn’t thought of that. She’d already been pretty mad. And when she said so, he laughed.

“So, it was exuberant enough for you, then?”

“Well…” She bit down on her lip. “I might need another demonstration to be sure.”

His cock pulsed inside her as if it had been challenged. “We’ve got eight days till Vesta. And I’ve got so many ideas, amiera. I’ve thought about this for a long time. All the things I’m going to do you.”

“What about me doing things to you?”

“Oh, you’ll do them,” he purred in her ear, and her toes curled. Growling, he rolled them over so she sat astride him, and his hands dug into her bottom. “I swear on Vaniiya that I will spank this ass again. Much harder this time. And I’ll do it while I’m inside you so I can feel you shudder and clench around me.” He thrust up against her in a way that made her belly hitch, and she started a slow ride in response. “And I’m tying you to the bed again, and this time we aren’t going to sleep at all.”

She trailed her fingertips over his chest, “About that, those handcuffs gave me some ideas.”

“I hate being cuffed.” The orbs drifted over her face, like he was considering it.

She nodded. “But you’ll do it for me.”

His eyes gleamed.

She lifted her hips, slowly, loving the way his eyes drifted out of focus and his mouth parted. She slid down until he was all the way inside, filling her completely. “I’ve got ideas, too.”

“Ideas?” That slow half smile made her insides go liquid.

She whispered a few of the dirtiest ones in his ear, smiling when she saw her plant sitting on the table in the corner.

“I like that last one.” He pulsed inside her, proving the truth of his words. “But I get to do it back. It only seems fair.”

She clenched around him experimentally, reveling in the way his eyelids went heavy and his brows scrunched up in pleasure-pain. She sank her