She’d been kissed before, but it had been so long ago, she barely remembered what it was like. And she knew it had never been as refreshing and consuming as this. Her muscles tightened against his. Her fingers dug into his chest. Her legs shifted open until his thighs pressed against the insides of hers.
Desire built, awakened inside her. His hand slid from her hair to her lower back to pull her body tighter against him. And oh, he was hard, and thick, and clearly as turned on her. That excitement grew. Overwhelmed. Possessed her from every angle.
His tongue probed deep into her mouth, tasted her everywhere, and she returned his kiss with the same enthusiasm, the same hunger. Time seemed to stand still as his mouth plundered hers. As he took what he wanted. As she let him.
Her head grew light. She needed air. Didn’t want to break the kiss. Didn’t want to let go. He nipped at her upper lip, soothed the spot with his tongue, then finally eased away so she could draw a breath.
“Gods, you taste better than I’d hoped.”
She gulped in air and tried to tell him he tasted good too. But before her vocal chords could work, he kissed her again. Hard. Greedy. Deeply. Like a man starved. Like she was his very last meal.
Her brain turned to mush. Her body a pool of want. All she could focus on was more. But something inside warned she was losing control. That this wasn’t a good idea. That as much as she craved his touch, this wasn’t the right time or place. And if the Amazons outside heard what was happening inside her tent, they’d both soon regret it.
She pushed against his chest. She didn’t want to let go but somehow found the strength to shift to her knees so there was space between them. “Titus. Wait. Just…give me a second.”
“No more waiting. I want you.”
His fingers dug into the cotton at her hips, and he tugged. She opened her mouth to tell him she wanted him too, that she wasn’t trying to stop him, but that they both just needed to be careful. But then she registered the temperature around her. Not cool and refreshing like he’d been. But humid. Thick. Stifling.
Warnings fired off in her brain. The sexual haze cleared enough so she could listen. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t be just an Argonaut. There was something else about him that drew her. Something she reacted to. Something that told her…she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.
“Tasa?”
She pushed away before his body could press up against hers again and somehow found her feet. The room spun, and she reached for the tree trunk behind her. He sat up, but she held out a hand to keep him from reaching for her once more. “No, don’t. I…I need to think.”
“Don’t think. Come back. I know you want me. You have no idea how much I want you. Touch me again.”
Minutes ago, he’d wanted answers as to why she was living amongst the Amazons, what she’d been doing in Argolea, why she’d been following Maelea. Now none of that mattered?
The air grew oppressive and claustrophobic. Her mind sputtered, trying to make sense of what had happened. She’d been tricked once before, and look where that had landed her. When he moved to his knees, she stepped back again, careful so he couldn’t touch her.
“Natasa.”
His voice changed. Tensed. Filled with a desperation that only kicked her nerves into high gear. “Wh-what are you doing to me?”
“I’m not doing anything,” he said calmly. Too calmly. He held out a hand. “Natasa, come back to me.”
She didn’t know what to believe, didn’t know whom to trust. He suddenly felt like some glowing, shimmering salvation, and she, more than anyone, knew things that seemed too good to be true usually were. “Who are you?”
Unease seeped into his eyes. “You know who I am.”
“No, I don’t.” Panic flooded her voice, and she fought against it but couldn’t keep it away. He was using magic or seduction or something unnatural to scramble her brain. “What the hell do you want with me?”
He moved to his feet, pushing to his full height. He was gorgeous in the dim light, half naked with his wavy dark hair loose around his face and those ropes hanging from his wrists. But he was also a threat. There were multiple people searching for her. Numerous beings that wanted her. And because he’d once been nice to her, she’d let down her guard. Assumed he could be trusted. Assumed—foolishly—he wasn’t after the very same thing.
Panic turned to fear. She eyed her dagger on the box next to him. Knew she’d never reach it before he did. “Stay back.”
“Natasa, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”
There was that word again—help. The same word he’d used in Argolea just before she’d jumped through the portal. But he didn’t really want to help her. He just wanted what she had.
“I don’t want your help. I told you before I don’t need your help. I—”
The tent flap jerked open, and they both looked toward the burst of light spilling into the room. Two guards stepped into the space and glanced between them—the same two who had tied Titus to the tree.
Relief immediately rushed through Natasa—relief that she and Titus had been interrupted—but then she caught the gleam in the guards’ eyes.
“What’s going on?” Natasa asked. “I told you—”
“Ladies.” Titus turned toward the guards and held up both hands in a defensive move. “Let’s not act hastily now—”
The guards moved up on both sides of him. Malice and heat and triumph swelled in their eyes. The taller of the two said, “The queen is ready for you.”
Titus stiffened, tried to shift out of their grasp, but their hands landed on his arms before he could get a foot away. And the moment they made contact with his skin, his eyes rolled back, his features twisted and his knees gave out.
Natasa tensed. Yeah, she’d wanted him to back off so she could think, but not like this. They were hurting him. If anyone was going to hurt him, it was going to be her.
“Stop,” she ordered. “What are you doing? He’s my prisoner, not yours.”
“Not anymore,” the other guard said. A malevolent grin spread across her thin lips. “He’s the queen’s now. And the altar is prepared.”
Oh shit.
They dragged Titus toward the door. Natasa closed her hand over the shoulder of the closest guard. “I said stop—”
The guard moved so fast, Natasa barely tracked her. One second she was holding Titus up by the arm; the next she had Natasa pinned to the base of the tree, a sword at her throat.
“Aella said you might be a problem,” the guard sneered. “Therefore, you are to remain here, where you can’t get in the way.”
Natasa’s breath caught at the contempt in the guard’s eyes. The guard shoved Natasa’s hands together, cinched a rope around her wrists, and jerked them high over her head. Natasa gasped. The guard looped the rope through the D-ring screwed into the wood and pulled hard.
Pain sliced into Natasa’s skin. She winced. The guard laughed and stepped back.
Lysa—Natasa remembered her name now—tipped her head and grinned. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, female, you are not invited to this ceremony.” She leaned close, so close Natasa could smell the earthy scents of dirt and moss on her unclean skin. “The queen thanks you for your most generous…donation.”
Natasa pulled on the ropes again. “Titus!”
Lysa chuckled, a menacing sound, and moved out of the room. The door flapped closed in her wake.
Alone, Natasa struggled against the ropes, but all her flailing did was cause the twines to dig deeper into her skin. Pain spiraled through her arms, slowing her fight.