Free Eland and Jeanne (Tales of the Shareem) by Allyson James

and hard.
    I could love you.
    If Shareem could love. And Eland was, in the end, Shareem.

Chapter Nine
     
    For now, Eland let himself get lost in her. He thrust inside her, again and again, knowing he should go slow for her, but unable to stop.
    Jeanne was rocking with him, holding him, crying his name. Eland kept thrusting, his cock seeking, his body burning. He loved the feel of where they joined, Jeanne bare for him.
    Eland wanted to keep on fucking her. He could go for hours—he’d been trained to—but this was Jeanne, he needed her, and it was different.
    Eland felt the pressure build inside him. He couldn’t hold it back; he wanted to be one with her. He suckled her breast, and Jeanne arched into his mouth. She cried out in joy, and Eland could hold back no longer.
    He groaned as he came, his seed shooting inside this beautiful, beautiful woman. Eland gathered her against him, kissing her sweating face, her lips, her hair.
    After a long time of them moving together, Jeanne let out a long sigh. Eland came down to the bed with her, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her lips.
    Jeanne traced his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    “My pleasure.” Eland closed his eyes and sank into her. “It’s what I was made for.”
    ***
    Jeanne awoke to find Eland lying facedown next to her.
    Her body was sore, tight, wrists a little raw from the tunic that had bound them. Yet at the same time she felt cleansed.
    I had sex. The wonder of it hadn’t quite hit her yet, but the words sent a thrill through her. I had sex with a hot and gorgeous man.
    Who was still next to her. That fact made her heart sing.
    Eland was asleep. Snoring even. The sound was somehow soothing. The room’s soft lighting brushed the contour of his back, the mound of his backside. He lay naked, no covering to hide him.
    One arm was flung out, hanging over the side of the bed. Jeanne had snuggled against him, Eland hard and warm against her breasts and stomach.
    His head was turned toward her, his cheek squashed against the pillow. Hair straggled over it, and his lips were parted slightly with his snores. Jeanne longed to smooth his hair, touch his warmth one more time.
    But he might waken, finished, and leave her. Right now, Jeanne had Eland to herself. She could pretend they belonged together.
    People might scorn love these days, but they were always hungry for it—they needed it even if they didn’t acknowledge it. Love for a mate, a child, a sister, a friend. Didn’t matter. Love would never go out of fashion.
    I had sex.
    Eland had spanked her—and she’d liked it. Jeanne pushed that thought around her head. Her backside tingled with the memory. Eland had brought her to amazing climax, readying her for him. She’d never have been able to take him otherwise, she realized now. He’d known exactly what to do.
    The fact that he was so practiced should bother her. Way in the back of her mind, it did.
    The front of her mind told Jeanne that she hadn’t felt so warm and complete since … well, ever.
    I had sex.
    And I want to do it again.
    To the sound of her lover’s snores, Jeanne grew languid and relaxed. She smiled as she slid into sleep.
    ***
    She woke to the sting of leather on her backside.
    Jeanne gasped in shock. “What ...?”
    She tried to turn over, but Eland brought the strap down, smack, across her buttocks again. And again. Three more times, then his big hands flowed over her skin, soothing where he’d struck.
    Jeanne turned her head on the pillow, looking up at him. Eland’s eyes filled with blue, which she now understood meant he was aroused.
    “What was that for?” she demanded.
    Eland kept on rubbing her bottom. “I see you don’t know how to behave.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Oh, Jeanne, my love.” Eland bent to her. “I’m going to have to train you from the bottom up. Literally.” He spanked her once with the strap. “I’ll be nice and answer your question—this time. I wasn’t supposed