Nuworld: The Saga Begins Page 7

  “I’ve worked hard all my life.” Tara finally forced her gaze to the ground.

  “I’d like to hear about that life sometime, I would,” he spoke as he eased onto the bike in front of her.

  Tara stifled a gasp as the smooth leather of his pants rubbed her inner thighs. The man didn’t offer her a lot of room behind him, and her body was forced up against his backside. Her legs spread wide to accommodate him, which caused her dress to slide up, exposing a fair amount of leg. The position left her feeling incredible vulnerable, and she wasn’t sure she liked that feeling. At the same time, being smashed up against this virile man’s backside sent a rush of heat through her that she couldn’t deny. She’d never been aroused while exposed in such a way before. She didn’t have time to sit and evaluate her conflicting emotions however.

  “Hold on tight, my Lady.” Lord Darius started the bike and took off quickly…very quickly.

  Tara’s inner thighs locked against him, while her arms tried to squeeze the life from his chest.

  * * * * *

  He grinned and knew he would enjoy the mission of exposing this Runner. And yes, she had to be the Runner. Any Gothman woman would have fallen off the bike and landed flat on her back from his sudden acceleration. Yet she’d remained glued to him as his bike left the ground to fly over the uneven, rocky ground.

  * * * * *

  If Tara hadn’t been an expert rider, he would have killed her right there on the spot.

  She wondered for a moment if that wasn’t what he had in mind. Her instincts took over as he raced over the first hill. She stayed close to his body, moving as he did, keeping her head down. Taut muscles rippled underneath her hands, and she fought not to stroke his chest.

  They moved faster than she anticipated, almost as if racing into battle. The wind slapped her hair against her face and, when she tried to look up, made her eyes water. Lord Darius raced over the hills and around the rocks. She wrapped her hands tightly around his body and held on with all the skill that her many winters of riding had taught her.

  After a half hour, Lord Darius slowed the bike and stopped. They were at the base of a very rocky hill, and a gutted path disappeared into the pines leading up the hillside.

  Tara allowed her hands to move slowly down Darius’ chest until she rested them on either side of his waist. His body was as fine tuned as the machine they sat on. She imagined him an incredible warrior…and an incredible lover. But she couldn’t focus on that at the moment. A test of her abilities was at play here, and she planned to do her fair share of testing in return.

  “You’ve been on a bike before, that much is true. I daresay you could ride one if you were so inclined.

  Lord Darius turned his head, and she could feel his breath on her face. Her chin grazed his shoulder as she decided not to respond. A Runner wouldn’t lie.

  “Good thing then, are you ready for a climb?”

  “I think so,” Tara said quietly, but she was thoroughly excited about the fact that they were not through with the ride.

  “Wrap those arms around tight now.”

  He didn’t go as fast this time. He took the rocky path slowly and the bike groaned under their weight as he guided it up the forbidding path.

  * * * * *

  She didn’t need to hold on to him for this climb. He’d already sensed her expertise as a rider. But Darius wouldn’t deny enjoying the female body pressed against him. When she obliged, and wrapped her arms around his waist once again, he offered a boyish grin that he was happy she couldn’t see. No woman had stirred him like this before. Not only did he want her body, for some reason he had a desire to know her reactions to his world.

  “I’m going to show you my secret hideout. I’ve been coming here since I was a boy, I have. I hope you won’t think less of me if I say I like to escape from ruling this land once in a while.”

  * * * * *

  “No, my Lord, I won’t think that.” Tara also watched the road, if you could call the jagged path that. She didn’t have to ride so close to him now and was able to focus more on her surroundings. While she didn’t need to wrap her arms around him, holding on to this mass of power felt good, so she indulged herself.

  He skillfully navigated the bike around each rock and protrusion without any instruction from her, although she did have to bite her tongue a time or two. Eventually, the path led them to a clearing on the side of the hill.

  It was a small shady area of grass, completely surrounded by pine trees and hidden from the world. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she said without thinking.

  Tara again ran her hands down the side of his chest, and adjusted her legs, feeling him all the way from her inner thighs up to her crotch. This man overwhelmed every sensation she had.

  And she knew then he would not make a good enemy. Not only was his physical strength twice that of hers, his body distracted her beyond what it should. Fire rushed through her wherever she touched him, the heat from his body tormenting her senses. Beyond that, his strength, the natural warrior blood that ran through him, his ability to connect what was around him—all of it attracted her to him more than it should. For no matter what, this man was her enemy.

  Lord Darius stopped the bike and cut the engine. This time, Tara flipped her leg over the bike and hopped off before he could help her. She twisted and shook her hips to adjust her dress, and knew Darius watched. She turned to see his eyes on her rear end and felt a sense of power.

  “So, when did you first ride on a motorcycle? I bet you can drive one, can’t you?”

  She sensed him watching her, those powerful gray eyes never leaving her while she walked across the small patch of grass to a large rock and sat down on it. Tara wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling the material of her dress so that she felt less exposed and looked at him as he climbed off his bike. He suspected her of something, of that there was no doubt. Did Darius know her true identify and simply toyed with her? There had to be a way to find out.

  Tara had to be careful, very careful. If he killed her, Patha would have his revenge. If she killed him, it would start a war. Her instincts never failed her when caution was called for. This man could be a threat to her, but for some reason she felt no fear, nor had she since she met him.

  By the look in his eyes it didn’t appear that he had murder on his mind. His gaze was incredibly seductive yet, at the same time, very dangerous. She smiled at him and decided to take his comment as a joke. “Certainly I couldn’t drive a motorcycle as big as that one.” Tara attempted a shy smile, as she had seen some of the Gothman women do, and then asked out of curiosity, “Why did you bring me up here?”

  “I want to know you better. I’ve seen your response to men’s advances, and I sure don’t want to be made the fool.”

  Tara looked down at the ground quickly, realizing he was talking about the actions she’d taken against his guard during her previous visit.

  He walked over and sat down on the rock next to her. He didn’t hesitate but put one arm around her back and rested his hand on her shoulder.

  Tara’s entire body tightened from his forwardness, and the urge to elbow him in the gut was almost as strong as the urge to turn and kiss him before he kissed her. These warring emotions clouded her ability to think clearly. She doubted many people ever told the man no. Be careful, her inner thoughts warned, be very careful.

  He pointed at the hill across from them with his other hand. “There’s a cliff up that way. You have to climb to it, but you can see all of Gothman from up there. That, my lady, is my favorite place of all.” Darius pointed to some rocks further up the hill. “Are you up for the climb?”

  “I don’t think I could do that, my Lord.” Now he was trying to test her abilities, and she felt safe to say a Gothman woman did very little rock climbing. “I would tear my dress for sure.”

  “Of course.” Lord Darius leaned against the wall of rock behind them and stared at her. His hand moved from her shoulder to rub the center of her back. “You’re v
ery beautiful, Tara, you are. I know for a fact there’s not a lady in all of Gothman that comes close to your looks.”

  He smiled and reached to stroke her hair softly. “I can’t help but wonder if you’d attack me if I tried to kiss you.” Darius looked at her, seeming amused at the thought. “And the way that body of yours is fine-tuned, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d have some luck at it.”

  Tara turned to look at him, but didn’t answer. The thought of attacking him if he tried to kiss her brought a rush of warmth between her legs. His face was inches from hers and those gray eyes seemed capable of owning her every thought. She fought a grin when she imagined challenging him.

  He must have noticed her slight change in expression because his eyebrows rose, as if anticipating her answer.

  He did suspect her. She felt certain at that moment that she’d betrayed every secret she had by meeting his gaze. He would own her every thought if she didn’t pull her eyes from his. He was reaching deep for her very soul.

  She fought for control of her thoughts with every ounce of power she possessed. Just because the man suggested sensuality didn’t mean she had to submit. He was accustomed to passive women and at that very moment she forgot all about the role she was supposed to be playing. She realized her defiance would probably prove an ugly taste for him. But the lord would throw her on the ground and have his way with her right here and now, unless she took charge of the situation.

  Passive, be passive.

  The voice in her head warned her against striking him, or worse yet, taking the initiative herself and having her way with him. Both thoughts entered her mind almost at the same time, although her rational side warned that she had to play the part of a Gothman woman, or risk giving her true identity away.

  Tara studied Lord Darius, with those incredible gray eyes. The sunlight added color to his blond curls, some of them pale as corn silk, while others were darker than gold. His hair bordered a smooth face, shy of a small scar that interrupted an otherwise perfect jawline. She curled her hands into fists to prevent herself from reaching up to touch that scar, and trace it just to see if it would alter his expression. He had no wrinkles, no worry lines, nothing to indicate he was consumed or tortured by thought. His features were perfect.

  Tara realized she had to face those dark gray eyes, otherwise she would have no indication of what he might do next. They defied the warrior in her to take a stand and put action to his words. She suspected Darius found her fighting him in lovemaking an appealing thought. That realization brought the heat in her tormented body to a boiling point. Self-control was her only weapon here.

  “Would you have me fight you, my Lord?” she whispered the words and tried to remain still.

  His lips parted, and he dropped his gaze to her mouth. “No woman has ever tried to stop me before.”

  “And you think I would have some success at it?”

  His chuckle forced his Adam’s apple up and down, and sent chills through her heated body. “I’m thinking you are like no other woman.”

  The laughter in his eyes when he returned her gaze was almost her undoing. She wanted to pounce on him, to slap him for his pompous attitude, and to kiss him just to show him she could overpower his supposed omnipotence.

  “But no, my Lady, you would not be successful at it.”

  Tara jumped to her feet. She stood over him with her hands still balled in fists at her sides. Every bit of sense she had, along with winters of training to understand all types of attacks, prepared her to take the offensive. She towered over Darius, planting her feet firmly on the ground, and inhaling deeply to clear her thoughts.

  “You think you could have me as you please, simply because you desire it?” Tara felt her desire shift to fury. The change of mood helped her to think clearly, so she worked to feed the anger.

  “There is no doubt, my Lady.”

  “And if I don’t wish it?”

  “My lady,” Lord Darius whispered, almost growled. “You do wish it.”

  Tara had never met a man more sexually sure of himself. He excited her while consuming her with outrage. She stared at him.

  Darius appeared to relax under her study, and then crossed his arms across that broad chest. Her eyes watched the rope-like muscles twitch under his tanned forearm. He seemed at ease, as if allowing her time to accept the inevitable.

  Tara narrowed her eyes. “You will not rape me,” she hissed.

  Darius laughed, and she took a step backwards. “My lady, I’m thinking that won’t be necessary.”

  Darius straightened his legs, stretching them so that long corded muscles rippled underneath the brown leather of his pants.

  She found herself standing between those long, powerful legs and realized he had needed to rearrange his position to allow room for his growing arousal. Tara stared at the hardened length now visible under the material below his belt. Beyond a doubt, she had never met a more pompous, self-righteous, and incredibly sexy man as the one who now seemed to surround her with his aura.

  Tara turned to create distance, and Darius bent one leg, blocking her path. She didn’t jump around him, or stumble over him, but merely stopped. “Is this how you take every lady who catches your eye, my Lord?”

  “I’ve never waited this long before, no.” Darius sounded amused. “But then any other lass would have submitted by now.”

  Tara almost said she wasn’t any other lass. Those would have been her exact words to any other man, but Lord Darius wasn’t any other man. No man had ever stimulated her emotions like this before, much less one who kept her guessing at the same time. Tara had a feeling she could enjoy this man, and that it would be a long time before she grew bored.

  “Do they fall at your feet? Or do they simply strip in front of you?” Tara asked as she continued to stare at the leg blocking her path.

  “Has it crossed your mind to do either?”

  Tara sensed Darius’ movement and turned as he leaned forward. “No,” she stated, unable to do more as one large hand interlocked fingers with her smaller hand. Tara didn’t oppose the touch, but studied his hand, which now held hers. Blond hairs tickled the tips of her fingers, while the rough heat from his grasp sent warmth up her arm at an amazing speed.

  “I’ll teach you to submit, I will.” Darius didn’t make the statement as a threat, but spoke the words gently, as a papa willing to show the child a new stunt.

  When he pulled her to him, the only thing crossing Tara’s mind was that likewise, she would teach him manners. The intensity of his gaze, those gray eyes, so unique in color, watching her while he brought her face to his, gave her the impression teaching him anything would be quite the chore. Stubborn and powerful, determined and ruthless, she saw the good and the bad while he watched her.

  She wanted to look away, anything to distract her so she could keep her thoughts straight. But damnit if she didn’t want to taste him and learn the source of the heat that flooded through her with just his touch.

  His arms wrapped her into him, almost crushing her in their grip. And then he kissed her.

  Tara couldn’t stop herself. Placing her arms on his shoulders, then grabbing hair on either side of his head, she returned the kiss with an aggression she didn’t know she possessed.

  He slid her off the rock and onto the ground. His strength made her wild. All attempts to conceal her identity escaped her, a thick fog of lust consuming her senses. His body was strong, powerful, and dangerous. It excited her more than anything had before. Submission was forgotten. She found herself fighting to strip the pants away from the treasure that would be hers.

  He was huge, hardened to stone. It was hard to move while she stared at his magnificence.

  She climbed on and forced the penetration herself as he pulled her dress from her body. She felt him slide in deeply as he grasped to control the moment.

  He pulled back as she rocked forward and then he lunged powerfully, almost choking her with the depth he reached.

  She collapse
d on him and before she could recover and clear the overwhelming desire to submit to him, his powerful arms wrapped around her body and he lunged again. Fighting to regain control, she dug her fingers into his chest and pushed, hard, forcing his body down. As his grip around her intensified, she took advantage of the preoccupation and thrust her hips down on him, consuming every inch of him inside of her, tightening around him, suffocating all life out of him. She had, at last, achieved control over him.

  A muffled grunt, deep within him, rose to a howl as she forced his orgasm. Then, not willing to let him experience ecstasy without her, she thrust again and leaped to meet the intensity of his climax. Her muscles tightened, holding him inside her, while he stretched and filled her. Closing her eyes, she rode the waves of passion that rushed through her. Where she had tried to show the upper hand, she had instead received the privilege of being fucked good and hard, allowing her one orgasm and leaving her wanting more.

  This was not lovemaking. There had been no foreplay. Pure and simply, it was a struggle of powers. A ruthless, dominating nation taking on another, equally powerful and equally dangerous. Through the act of sex, they’d tried to conquer each other—and failed. If they’d attempted to keep the act purely physical, playing the part of a skilled warrior, and not allowing emotions to interfere—again, they both failed.

  * * * * *

  Slowly, his grip around her eased. He sat up, still inside her, and stared deeply into that place he’d just experienced. There couldn’t possibly be another woman like Tara on Nuworld. Sex had always been an act of pleasure, sometimes necessary, sometimes simply to amuse himself. It had never occurred to him how the pleasure could intensify with a willing, enthused partner. Darius enjoyed sex as a predatory act. Sometimes the look of fear, or submissive anticipation, excited him enough to pursue a lady who caught his eye. Tara had offered him neither, yet she had brought him to a hardened boil like none before.