Chapter Three

Nayla wiped the perspiration from her brow and crawled to the head of the bed. She'd allow Mace to have this night. Yes, she was the Queen and when the lovemaking was over, she would leave this room and he would stay. Imprisoned until he realized his place.

He had pride, she understood that now. And intelligence. He wasn't like the rest of the mongrels in the dungeon. Or like the one who had murdered her parents and wounded her body.

But he still wasn't human and God only knew how savage he became when he transformed into full werewolf. She had no doubt he needed to remain secured in irons, for the safety of her country.

At this moment, though, all she cared about was how he was going to satisfy her lonely body. She crushed her breasts up against the red silk padded headboard and braced her hands atop the wooden frame.

The chains rattled menacingly as he followed behind and sandwiched her between his body and the headboard. His erection was fierce and moist from her juices as he pressed himself against her back. What was he waiting for? The foreplay part was over. She wanted more.

He scooped her hair from her cheeks, gathered all her long locks into his hands and placed them over one shoulder. She shivered from the intimacy of his gentle actions and how they contrasted with his rough exterior, deep, penetrating voice and enticing animalistic scent.

His breath was hot against her ear when he said in a low voice, "You're mine," and wedged his leg between hers, spreading them apart. "After tonight," he continued, "you'll understand that I'm more man than any you've had or ever will have."

Her heartbeat sped but she remained composed. "Don't make promises you can't keep." She turned her head and met his heavy gaze. The blue seemed to have disappeared from his eyes, leaving only the black of his pupils. As black as his thick mane of hair that hung past his broad shoulders.

His lips twitched up to a slow, sexy grin and Nayla's entire body heated. He was more alluring than any man she'd ever laid eyes on, that was for sure.

"Brace yourself, Nayla," his deep murmur warned.

She quickly turned back to the headboard and pressed her forehead to the padding. He butted his legs up underneath her. With one arm he lifted her and pulled her backside to rest against his stomach. His other reached around, skimming her inner thigh. Curious, she peeked down to see him grip his cock and guide it to her pussy. Every inch of him was stunning and she couldn't wait another moment for him to be inside of her body.

He held the hard head of his cock against her clitoris and then slowly slid it to her passage and out again. "You're so fucking wet for me." His husky voice rumbled against her neck. "How badly do you want me?"

"Like no one before and no one after. I swear." Her honesty startled her but she quickly pushed it from her mind when he allowed her to sink down on him.

She relished each inch as he slipped inside of her, slick and taut, until his thick cock filled her channel. "Aah," she moaned and her eyes rolled back, mesmerized by the instant warmth crawling up her middle. She clenched tighter to the wood but her palms were clammy.

"Don't let go." He clasped a hand over hers. His other arm still wrapped snug around her waist as his lean, muscular body lodged more firmly against the silk pad. He encompassed her as he held her there, as if nothing else in the world existed but him and this moment of passion.

With a feral grunt, he lifted her higher with his hips. His cock rammed farther in, caressing her innermost walls. He leveraged her there as he slid out of her just an inch, then thrust back in. Again and then again, faster and harder, he fucked her from behind.

Warm, tingling pressure built inside her pussy, up to her womb. Her legs were useless, but she didn't need them anyway as she was so tightly sandwiched.

"Oh, God, Mace. Fuck me." Her tight nipples slid against the silk as he drove into her, adding to the pleasure.

He was relentless as he filled her to the hilt, pushing deeper each time. His force was fierce and unrestrained, as if he wished to punish her.

But it felt too good to hurt.

His long, slippery shaft arched up and into her heat, burning hotter as the friction hastened and deepened. This wasn't lovemaking. No, it was pure lust-driven sex. There was no admiration, no sweet kisses, just a selfish hunger.

Nayla didn't care.

Nothing mattered. Not when his steady, rapid movements were setting a fire ablaze in her core. She was losing control. Her mind blurred as her thighs quaked. The smoldering inside of her had built up too long and now it was bursting free. She released the dam, allowing it to erupt in her belly and surge down her legs, rushing through her blood, popping her nerve endings, slicing off her anxiety and fears. Finally letting go of years of frustration, of loneliness.

Joyous tears welled in her eyes as a piercing cry filled her ears and she realized too late it was coming from her mouth.

So what? she thought and smiled to herself. She dropped her head back against Mace's shoulder as her entire body slackened against his hold. He held her up, his cock still engorged inside her tingly channel.

"Good girl," he said low beside her ear. He bracketed her against the headboard as he thrust twice more. A primitive groan escaped his beautiful lips before he pulled out and released his warm seed against her bottom.

They fell back onto the bed, their bodies entwined as they lay on their sides. She listened to his jagged breathing as her senses returned. She'd miscalculated him. Each second longer she spent with him proved that more and more.

As he eased her soaked hair from her shoulder and kissed her tingling skin...as his hand drifted down to her bottom and lathered his cum across her backside...she knew she couldn't make the mistake again.

No, Mace could never be underestimated.