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“Let me ask you something,” she says, tugging at the knot on her robe. I reach out to stop her, but she swats my hand away. “Do you want to give in to those instincts?”
The ties fall loose and the robe parts, exposing her belly button and the dark curls between her legs that cover her cunt.
“More than anything.” I adjust my legs; the throbbing need in my cock is only getting worse. “But listen to me, you don’t realize what you’re asking for. There would be no going back.”
She wiggles her shoulders, and the robe slides down, revealing her breasts. Perky, small mounds with pink peaks that make my mouth water to taste them. The robe clings to the crooks of her elbows. Is it too late to convince her to put the rutting thing back on?
“I asked you if you want that.”
I slide forward, slipping off the bench and onto my knees to stumble closer to her. The scent of her draws me in, until I’m bowing my head towards her cunt and inhaling the musky perfume of her desire.
“Yes,” I sigh. “I want to have you without hesitation. I want to rut you like an animal, devour your cunt, and fill you with my cock over and over again until you don’t know whether to beg for more or beg me to stop.”
The robe drops to the floor. She pets my head gently before tugging it back with her fingers sunk in my curls.
“I’m telling you I want you to do it. So I’m going to give to help you let go, okay?”
When she releases the crown of my head, I wrap my arms around her legs and kiss the soft, round part of her belly. Does she know what she’s stirring up?
“I don’t need further help with that,” I say, before dragging my teeth over her skin.
“If that was true, you’d have me on back already.” She steps back, out of my grasp. I’m perplexed about where she’s going with this, but she has a point. My fear of hurting her is so powerful, it’s keeping a firm grip on my sexual needs.
“Maybe what both of us needs the most is to lose control,” she says. “I’ve been trying so hard to take back my own body that I forgot my own needs. The other night when we were together, I felt freer than I have in a long while. So now I’d like to share that with you, because you’ve been controlling yourself too.”
“You’re certain?”
She nods her head.
“Make me your mate,” she says. “It’s not enough to be your queen or your wife to me, not anymore. That contract is nothing. I want you to claim me in your way, the way you’ve always dreamed of it.”
It’s a wonder that this isn’t a hallucination.
“Come here then,” I say, offering my hand to invite her to the floor where I’m kneeling for her. I’ll rut her right here and let the whole complex hear her screams of satisfaction.
A smile splits her face. Her smiles are always beautiful, but this one looks almost devious.
“You don’t get it yet, do you?” She ignores my open palm. “I’m going to make you work for it. Don’t you remember that kaia we watched on the tundra?”
Then, before I can even get to my feet, she bolts out the door without a single shred of clothing covering that perfect skin.
CHAPTER FORTY
MAK
When Frankie disappears, my mind goes blank.
My body, however, reacts on instinct. I propel myself off the bench, leaving my towel and her robe on the floor as I rush after her. I’m right on her tail as she weaves through the males’ changing room and then the baths. Some are shocked when she sprints by naked. Others are laughing, and there are a few younger warriors that clap their hands over their eyes as if looking upon the Ka’lakka’s mate will burn their retinas.
I ignore them, focused on one thing only.
Amma’ka has taken full control over my senses, with the express mission of plunging my cock into Frankie and claiming her with a long night of sweat, come, and screams.
She’s playing to her advantages darting through the tight, steamy places because I can’t put on the speed I need to catch up to her before she’s made it out the side exit. When I catch the door that’s still swinging shut behind her, I have to decide which way she’s gone. To my left, there’s a path back toward the Proving Pool, the temple ruins, and the banquet celebration. To my right, behind the bathhouse, a maze of raised walkways zig zag through smaller pools, gardens, and crumbling pavilions.
I need not rely on scent alone to know she’s headed away from the people and deeper into the temple grounds.
I take the right and come around to the back of the bathhouse, catching the barest hint of her silhouette as it disappears into a cloud of steam blowing across the path ahead. I chase after her, plunging into the white mist that smells of sulfur. By the time the breeze blows it out of my sightline, Frankie cannot be seen.
