I stared at her, taking in details I shouldn't be noticing, like the way her eyelashes fanned across her cheeks and the slight part of her full lips as she breathed. Then there was her smooth skin, unmarked by the scars that covered my own body.
I stepped closer and ran the tip of my finger down one exposed shoulder. She released a breathy moan that sent desire arrowing straight to my already stiff cock. "Tvek," I cursed again, but this time with more heat behind it.
I was a Vandar raider, used to taking what I wished. I had taken her from her planet, hadn’t I? Wasn’t the fate of a war bride to share my bed?
Even so, I didn’t want her to be forced to submit. I wanted her to want me, to beg me, to eagerly spread her legs for me. There was nothing more exhilarating than a female who was hungry for you, and now I knew there was nothing more frustrating than one naked and asleep.
Chapter 19
Jasmine
Iwas home. The familiar chill seeped through the walls and slunk through the windowsill we could never quite seal properly. The lingering scent of yeast and flour from the bakery below permeated everything and was as comforting as a lullaby.
I burrowed deeper under the covers, wishing they were heavier. We never had enough blankets on the coldest nights, but we made do. I rolled over, seeking warmth, and felt a body beside me. Had my sister snuck into bed with me to keep warm?
"Kaya," I mumbled, still half-asleep. "You're hogging the covers again."
My youngest sister had taken to crawling into bed with me after our parents died, and even at eighteen, she still sometimes appeared in the middle of the night. I shoved her gently, expecting her to mumble an apology and shift over. She didn't budge.
I shoved harder, annoyed now. "Kaya, seriously?—"
The groan that came in response was too deep. Too masculine. My eyes flew open.
I wasn’t in my drafty bedroom above the bakery, and I wasn’t snuggled under familiar worn blankets. The walls were dark, and the only light glowed from a holographic fire across the room.
Then it rushed back to me. The Vandar warbird. The warlord’s quarters. I pushed myself up on my elbows, my heart tripping in my chest, and looked over.
It wasn't Kaya. It was the Raas.
Raas Wrexxon was lying on his back beside me, one arm thrown over his head, his face turned slightly away. The dark sheet draped around his waist, leaving his torso completely bare. Scars marred his bronze skin and black swirls were etched into his flesh, although I knew Vandar males were born with those. I was also certain he wasn’t wearing anything beneath the sheet.
I glanced down at myself and realized with horror that I was naked too. Then memories crashed back in fragments. There had been wine, the bath, more wine, and then the catastrophically failed seduction attempt. I cringed remembering him walking away, listening to him bathe, and then the warmth of the bed and the exhaustion of the day pulling me under.
I squeezed my eyes shut, as if willing myself not to remember that I'd fallen asleep. In his bed. Naked.
I opened my eyes and flicked a gaze to where his chest rose and fell with the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep. And apparently, at some point during the night, he'd joined me.
Shit, shit, shit, Jasmine.
I took a breath to steady my untethered pulse. This was all fixable. I just needed to get out before he woke up, and things became even more mortifying.
Holding my breath, I started to scoot away from him with exquisite slowness, but the sheet was tangled around my legs, and when I tried to pull it free while simultaneously keeping myself covered, I lost my balance. I slipped off the edge of the bed, falling to the hard floor with a thud.
“Son of a frostbitten prick,” I hissed, pain radiating from the hip on which I'd landed.
So much for stealth. I lay still for a moment, stunned and hurting, cursing myself and my spectacular lack of grace. The sheet had come with me in the fall, so at least I wasn’t bruisedandnaked.
Once I’d regrouped and rubbed my aching hip, I started crawling in the darkness and dragging the sheet with me. I wasn’t sure where I was going. All I knew was that it wasn’t in bed with a very big, very naked Vandar warlord. Maybe I could shuffle to the bathroom where I’d left my clothes. They weren’t clean, but they were better than nothing.
I made it about two meters before I froze. Two large feet were directly in front of me, rooted to the floor, and behind them, a tail swished slowly back and forth.
I closed my eyes, my heart careening so recklessly in my chest I was certain he could hear it. If I had the sheet, that meant he was covered with nothing. Part of me, the traitorous part who did not run a respectable bakery, wanted desperately to look up and see what I'd only glimpsed in shadow when he'd walked into the bathroom last night.
I squeezed my eyes tighter, fighting the urge. What was wrong with me? I was the responsible one, the one who didn’t get distracted by men, the one who would never get drunk and end up in someone’s bed. But suddenly, I was someone who made terrible decision after terrible decision. I couldn't imagine how things could possibly get any worse.
Then he spoke, his voice rough with sleep, somehow more devastating in its huskiness than it had been when he was fully awake. “Come back to bed."
My eyes popped open, but I still didn’t dare look up. The words sent heat storming through me that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the truth I'd been trying desperately to deny since the moment he'd walked away from my failed seduction attempt. I had never wanted to get into anyone's bed as badly as I wanted to get into his.
