Free The Nymph King by Gena Showalter

didn’t touch her. His male scent wafted deliciously. “Unlike you, the others will not try to escape.”
    â€œI don’t know about that. The one with the curly black hair didn’t look happy to be here.”
    Something dark settled over his expression.
    Don’t infuriate the man. No telling what he’ll do. “What if I promise not to try and escape?” She didn’t plan to try, she planned to succeed.
    â€œI would laugh at such a blatant untruth and then scold you for lying to your man.”
    â€œYou are not my man!”
    â€œNot yet.” But I will be echoed between them, unsaid, yet powerful nonetheless.
    â€œNot ever,” she said through clenched teeth.
    His brow puckered, confusion settling over his beautiful features. “You continue to amaze me. How are you able to resist me with such fervor?”
    Was she resisting him? She didn’t know. She’d never felt so…needy. Even now, when defiance beat hard fists through her, her heart pounded, her skin stretched too tight. His heat slithered over her, inside her, shattering and chipping away at the ice she prized. Her nipples still reached for him. Her legs parted slightly, inviting an intimate glide, a hard press. Just…inviting.
    His nostrils flared as if he sensed her growing arousal. If he moved another inch, he’d mesh himself fully against her. Finally. Part of her screamed in protest, part of her trembled in welcome.
    â€œI want to touch you and kiss you, love, and feel—”
    â€œNo!” she shouted. “No kissing. No touching. Andfor God’s sake, stop calling me ‘love.’” But, oh, the thought of his lips feasting on hers was heady. “I don’t know you, and like I said, I damn sure don’t like you. You abducted me. You deserve jail time, not a make-out session.”
    â€œI can make you like me.” He braced his palms on each side of her head, trapping her in a hard, muscled circle, touching her hair but not her skin. “Oh, I can make you.”
    The truth of his claim shimmered between them unmercifully. Because deep down, she admitted that with every second that passed, she liked him more. She wanted him more. Wanted that skin-to-skin contact he was denying her. Was he doing it on purpose? Making her desperate for something she couldn’t have?
    Idiot! Shaye didn’t need a lot of experience with men to know she dangled on a precarious edge. If he pushed, she would crumble. She would take the momentary pleasure he offered and be glad for it. But in the taking, she would be no better than the others, forgetting his atrocious crime and throwing herself at his sexy feet.
    She’d be one of those pathetic creatures who did anything for pleasure, everything for love. Just like her mom.
    Make him despise you. Hurt him. Now! Determined, she jerked up her knee. He anticipated the action and jumped backward, out of striking distance. His mouth thinned and firmed.
    â€œI warn you now.” He met her gaze, otherworldly blue against plain brown. Determination against determination. “Fight me if you must, but do not attempt escape. I will punish you, have no doubt.”
    She forced herself to snort. “I haven’t begun to fight.And what the hell do you mean, you’ll punish me?” The fury she didn’t have to force. It increased with every word she uttered. “A little while ago you said you could never hurt me.”
    â€œThere are ways to punish a woman that will not physically hurt her.”
    â€œAnd I bet you know every one of them, you sick pervert.”
    He released a long, frustrated sigh. “We have not the time to fight right now. Come. I will show you Atlantis before we meet with the others.” Reaching out, he offered her his hand.
    She stared at his blunt-tipped fingers, at the calluses and scars slashed across his palm, a contrast to his perfect beauty. As she stared, her anger drained.