Michelle M Pillow - [Dragon Lords, #01] by TheBarbarian Prince

Author:TheBarbarian Prince
Language: eng
Format: epub

were well pronounced, but the accent of her birth still carried with them.

Ualan nodded at her. His throat was too dry to thank the woman. He forced himself to

hold still as she left.

"Should we get this over with?"

Ualan froze, forcing himself not to whirl around to see her. Lifting his hand, he motioned

her forward with the tilting of his fingers.

Morrigan made a face at the back of his head, sticking out her tongue and rudely mocking

him with silent curses. Taking a deep breath, she went forward. She wished she could have

been more confident, but inside she shook. It angered her, but her eyes sought desperately

for his approval. Standing before him in the center ring, but not to close, she waited. His

eyes stayed with the fire, as if he was being forced to do an unpleasant task. His disinterest

stung and made her waspish.

Become the master, she chanted silently. Make him the slave. Then you will make a deal

for your freedom.

"Ready, master?" she murmured with what she told herself was false sweetness.

Ualan’s neck almost snapped as he turned to look at her. Her words were husky, excited.

He swallowed. Her round eyes were looking at him expectantly. Her lush lips were parted

in even breath, tempting him to her. He held back. He had to.

"Proceed," he answered, keeping his tone hard. As she moved to stand between him and

the center flame, his voice was lost. He couldn’t have spoken more if he wanted to.

The firelight outlined her body, haloing around her barely clad hips, sparking like stars off

the crystals of her bodice and panties. Her feet were bare, as was tradition. The little

dancing lights hypnotized him and he stared at her chest and waist with an intense male

hunger growing within him. His loins, which seemed to be in a constant state of half-

arousal at all times anyway, gladly stirred as they hardened with lust to torment him.

Morrigan watched as his eyes flashed with liquid gold before he caught himself. He didn’t

move. His hard tone was just an act. She grew empowered. Soon, he would be eating out

of the palm of her hand.

Ualan’s feet were still lounging forward crossed at the ankles. His clothes were

comfortable, hugging carelessly to his strong flesh. She never in her life saw a man who

made clothes look so … so delectable.

Morrigan had the strangest urge to kneel before him and run her fingers up the strong

legs. Making him her slave would have its privileges, she decided, so long as he finished

what he stirred so easily in her body. Maybe then she would not be tormented by thoughts

of him. He would be out of her system.

"Dance," he whispered, aware of the sparks between them. His arms stayed lounged over

the sides of the couch. He gripped his hands to keep them there.

Morrigan smiled, she couldn’t help herself. Running a finger over her wrist, music softly

sounded. It was archaic in its primitive rhythms and she felt like she was before a sultan.

At first she was a little nervous and her movements were stiff. But, remembering what

Cordele had told her, she closed her eyes and imagined she danced alone.

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