“If you don’t fear him, what do you fear?” Bisma laid the brush on the table.
Zara pointed at the bed. “That I’ll disappoint him.”
Bisma’s eyebrows furrowed. “You are his. He’ll claim you and do so with great passion. What you fear is unfounded.”
“But… I’ve no idea how to please him.”
Bisma laughed. “Zara, you will please him easily. Now lie on the bed.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Bisma. My tattoo is telling me—”
“Telling you? Silly girl. The tattoo tells him, not you. You should have some faith. He’ll see you and you will know.”
Zara wished she had Bisma’s confidence. She lay on the bed and stretched her arms above her head. Bisma bound her.
“Spread your legs,” Bisma said in her ear.
“Do I have to?”
“You’ll be spanked if you don’t.”
A warning for a punishment she didn’t want. Inch by inch, she separated her legs. Still her skin wasn’t changing. She tried to focus on Galen, on his stern voice and wicked smile, but this time, nothing seemed to work. Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to curl up into a ball.
Bisma clucked her tongue again. An ominous sound of disappointment. What would Galen do when he saw she’d let him down?
The door opened. He’d arrived. He wore the uniform of his office and the blackness enhanced his massive figure, especially the breadth of his shoulders, which narrowed to his hips, then out again with his bulky thighs. Those thighs would have to fit between her legs, surely? Oh. My. God. She wasn’t going to do it. She couldn’t. She needed every drop of courage she could muster. The trembling intensified and wave after wave of nervous flutters flew around her body in a swarm that triggered the warming buzz of the tattoo and its emerging colors.
Bisma leaned down. “Remember what I told you to say?” she murmured.
“Sir. Lord… please… take me,” Zara stuttered. She closed her eyes.
“Leave us, Bisma,” he ordered.
The door closed. They were alone. A storm of fiery butterflies stampeded inside her belly. But, the flutters of excitement weren’t reaching where she needed them to go.
“Yes, keep your eyes shut,” Galen said. “I’ve a surprise for you, my Zara.”
She breathed rapidly, desperately trying to tame her overactive nerves.
She heard movement, a rustling. However, he wasn’t touching her or the bed.
“Now, open your eyes.”
She obeyed and blinked once, then twice.
Galen was naked. He stood at the bottom of the bed, legs astride and arms folded across his chest. His hair was swept back off his face, revealing his square forehead and dark eyebrows. Below the solid jawline was his sturdy neck and broad shoulders. From the neck down, he was inked with a splendid tattoo that accentuated the outline of his sinews and ribs. It extended down one arm and one leg, halting at his ankle. For a second she thought she saw a dragon, or some similar creature. But, then it was a wolf or a maybe a lion. These creatures all had something in common; they were ferocious, hungry beasts.
Zara snatched a breath and swallowed hard. He’d a beast of an erection too. Engorged to the tip, it seemed longer, thicker than ever. She’d touched it before with her lips, sucked and licked it, she’d felt it along her spine and between her ass cheeks, but it was the first time she’d seen his cock with the full backdrop of his body.
Fuck, he’s a splendid specimen!
But, how the hell was that going to fit inside her? She tensed, lost the momentum of her arousal, and pulled on her chains.
“Sir, please be gentle with me.” She glanced at her body—the colors that she had seen a few seconds ago weren’t there. Instead of enriching her skin, the tattoos were fading. “Sir, I…” She felt terrible. She wasn’t aroused as she should be and it bugged her more than she imagined it would. A solitary tear trickled down her face.
Galen pressed his lips into a frown, dropped his arms, and moved toward the bed with purpose.
Zara closed her eyes again. She started to tremble. A knot of anxiety filled her stomach as she felt him breathe over her. If this was her fate, she hoped it was over quickly. Galen was not human. He was an alien. A warrior. A barbarian.