Gladiator's Prize Read Free

temple. She took a deep breath, raising her gaze to meet his, and then it happened. He fell right into those deep, rich eyes and everything he’d ever known or believed in shifted. Saul felt desire—a mixture of lust and soul-deep longing—shudder through him, and a powerful longing to throw her over his shoulder and take off running, hit him. He’d never experienced anything so strange or powerful… Compelling. His already-stiff cock went rock hard and she swayed toward him, shaken. She belonged to him, Saul knew it with utter certainty.
    Every cell in his body screamed at him to claim her. To thrust into her, branding her so that every man she met knew she’d been taken. The oblivious priestess standing behind her nudged the woman forward, and she spoke.
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    Joanna Wylde
    “I crown you with these laurels of victory for your triumph in the arena,” his queen said, raising her trembling hands toward his head. The words echoed through the stadium, transmitted through hovering nanophones. She held the laurels high, but couldn’t reach. She offered Saul a pained look and he realized he should lower his head so she could place them on his head.
    He did, catching a whiff of her scent as she leaned close. So sweet, like wildflowers and creamy honey. Then the tips of her fingers grazed his forehead and an entirely wild, boldly physical need flashed through him. Where before she’d struck him as a distant angel, suddenly he saw her as a temptress, every breath teasing him with the rise and fall of her breasts. She licked her lips nervously and he imagined tasting the soft, plump skin for himself. But that wouldn’t be enough to sate him. No, Saul wanted to spread her legs and fuck her, hard, right now in front of the whole world. He wanted to show all of them that she belonged to him and no other. He wouldn’t tolerate another man coming near her. Not now, not ever. In a flash he made his decision. He’d claim her and damn the consequences.
    Saul’s hands flashed up, gripping her wrists tightly, pulling her close into his body.
    She gave a startled cry as he took her mouth, tongue thrusting inside, hips grinding against hers as he trapped her. Her lips, her soft mouth tasted every bit as good as he imagined and just as sweet. Her belly was soft, cradling his cock, and her breasts pressed against his chest through the filmy fabric, nipples hard and needy. She fluttered in his arms, gentle and giving, accepting him unconsciously—he could only wonder what she thought of him. Did women feel the same impact when they found their lifemate? Could she even begin to understand how much his world had shifted in the past few minutes? He didn’t care, not so long as he could hold her like this.
    The priestess cleared her throat, jabbing his foot discreetly with her staff of office.
    Sanity returned and Darius pulled away from the stunned woman. He didn’t even know her name, but as of this moment, he owned her. Forever. Nothing could stop him from claiming her. The crowd murmured and he realized he was making a spectacle of 12
    Gladiator’s Prize
    himself. Saul pulled away from the kiss, turning to the crowd and raising his arms as if basking in the triumph.
    As he accepted their adulation with a smile both triumphant and feral, he plotted his next move.
    He needed to get her alone. Soon.

    K’rilla had been kissed many times. As the unmated daughter of a First Family, she’d even been kidnapped twice by potential suitors. She’d handled each situation with calm control, largely unbothered by the caresses and sloppy mouths of her would-be mates. After all, there were two or three Saurellian males for every female—girls learned early how to handle aggressive men. But she’d never felt anything close to this.
    When Saul Darius kissed her she’d lost sight of everything else. She forgot about their audience, forgot about her watching family, even forgot about the coworkers waiting to tease her at work tomorrow.
    The moment