Free The Warlord and the Assassin: A Fantasy Romance Novella by Mia Amano Page B

had enjoyed fine Varanese wine and a hearty meal of goat stew and roasted sweet potatoes, Tarak led Amina to the bath. The woman called Magden had set heated magestones in the water, and a fine mist of steam rose into the air.  
    “Come, lover.” In a few swift movements, Tarak had shed his black robes and the loose traveling pants. Amina took a moment to admire his magnificent body. His bronzed skin gleamed in the flickering magelight, the sculpted lines of his chest and stomach rippling as he bent to feel the water’s temperature.  
    Amina shed her traveling clothes and came to stand behind him, tracing the network of scars that covered his muscular back. She planted soft kisses along the lines of his scars. Tarak turned and took her into his arms.
    “Forget about that,” he murmured, bending to kiss her mouth. Amina responded hungrily, enjoying his hot, demanding kiss. Tarak brought his arms around her and lifted her, as if she weighted nothing. He stepped into the steaming bath and gently lowered her. Amina admired the swell of his cock, erect and fully aroused.  
    Gods, he was huge.
    He slid into the water beside her, and Amina rolled over and brought her body on top of his, moving against his erection. Tarak buried his fingers in her hair, and brought her down in a deep, savage kiss. Breaking free, he growled. “On the eve of a battle, you distract me, assassin. Is this another ploy of yours?”
    Amina responded with a hungry kiss of her own. “I think you’re the one who’s trapped me with your ploy, Warlord.”
    She slid her hands down his hard stomach, her fingers encircling his shaft. Tarak moaned, his strong hands wrapping around her waist.  
    Fierce, savage need rose in Amina, and she moved her hips against him, bringing him inside her. Pleasure coursed through her as she rocked back and forth. Tarak’s hands guided her, pushing her faster and faster against him.  
    Around them, the warm water swirled, embracing them with gentle heat.  
    As Amina moved, she kissed the base of his neck. The pressure built and Tarak thrust against her, moving deeper. Amina’s teeth grazed Tarak’s skin, and she tasted the copper tang of his Akuna blood, mingled with the faint salt of his sweat. It sent her spiraling further into ecstatic frenzy.  
    Tarak growled, moving with her, sitting forward and embracing her with his strong arms, his rough hands caressing the smooth skin of her back.  
    Amina swayed her body, dragging them both to the brink of ecstasy, wrapping her muscular legs around his broad waist. Tarak controlled the rhythm now, his hands settling around the rounded curves of her butt.
    In the steaming bath, they made love, hungry, savage and wanting.
    Surrounded by water, they moved together, rocked by waves and waves of pleasure, until they were both on the edge. Amina became acutely aware of the gentle caress of the water around her body. She inhaled the faint aroma of rose oil and savored Tarak’s complex, masculine scent. She felt his hard length inside her, and the way their bodies moulded perfectly together, as if they were made for each other.
    She heard Tarak’s low growl of pleasure and felt him take her, harder, deeper, until she could bear it no longer and she came, dragging her nails across the scarred skin of his back. Tarak cried out as he climaxed, holding her tightly against him.  
    When they were finished, Amina peeled herself gently off him, and started washing his back, kneading his taut muscles. Tarak sighed and relaxed back into her, allowing her to surround him her arms, in a gentle embrace.  
    “Jerik Garul and the Erateans come tomorrow,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.
    “I know.” Tarak took one of her hands and gently kissed each one of her fingers. “Worry not, Amina. I always have a plan. And Garul is about to discover that we Akuna are not so easy to kill.”

CHAPTER NINE

    They were awake with the rising sun. Tarak ordered his people to move