Anzil (Gladiators of Krix #2) - Miranda Martin Page 0,28
together, and instinctively my hands move over him too. His body thrums, vibrating under my touch as I caress the bulging muscles.
I run my hands up, over his shoulders, into his impossible sea-green hair, twisting my fingers in his locks. Desire coils in my belly, and in a moment of abandon I decide to do it. I drop one hand across his bulging pec and find the object of my desire, erect and straining against the cloth of his pants. He breaks the kiss, takes my hand and moves it away.
“Wha—”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No. Not like this.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say.
He rises to his feet and takes a step back. His cock tents his pants, leaving no doubt as to his desires, but he’s stopping me.
“Kiara,” he says. “You are not a woman to tumble for a moment’s pleasure. You are unlike any woman I’ve known, and the only woman I want to know. When we tumble, I will be the last man you will ever want. Now is not the time.”
I stare, open mouthed in shock. I blink rapidly, each time I open my eyes expecting him to smile and tell me he’s kidding.
“So… we’re not going to?”
“No,” he answers. “I told you that you would beg for me first. I will be your final man.”
“You really think sex with you is going to be that good?” I ask.
He just stares, then his eyes move over my body with an insolence and a smile forms on his face, making it clear that’s exactly what he thinks. I arch an eyebrow, trying to cover over what his gaze is doing to my body.
“You may be good, but no one is that good,” I say.
His smile broadens, and his eyes alight with all the dirty things my pussy hopes he will do to me.
“Challenge accepted,” he says.
I huff and throw a pillow at him. “You’re an ass.”
There’s a knock at the door then the key turns loudly. Anzil waits for it to open then accepts a tray of food and brings it over to the table. He pours my drink and sets my plate first, then takes my hand and guides me to the chair. The perfect gentlemen, even if his cock is still trying to break free of his pants.
I thought I understood him, but now I don’t think I know him at all.
ANZIL
Her body trembles, pulling me from a deep sleep. The deepest sleep I can recall having in ages. It’s dark, and it takes me a moment to orient, but then I realize she’s sobbing.
“No, no, no,” she mutters.
“Kiara,” I whisper, wrapping my arm tight around her. She’s covered in a cold sweat.
“NO!” she cries, sitting straight up in bed.
Wide-eyed, she grips the blankets tight, turning her head with rapid, jagged motions side to side as if looking for an unseen threat.
“Kiara,” I say, moving to hold her.
“No!” she jerks away, clutching the blankets up to her chest. She blinks several times. Sweat glistens on her forehead, then she sighs, her head droops, and she begins to sob. “I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry for,” I say, uselessly raising my hands between us then letting them drop to the bed.
I stare at my empty hands lying on the bed. It feels like I’m adrift in the ice-cold white waters of the Biyang river back home. Adrift as I’m tossed from side to side, but more than anything else, helpless. At the mercy of the currents, unable to even keep my head above water.
All I want is to hold her, to protect her, and here I sit, empty handed and not knowing what to do. In the arena, I never know doubt or uncertainty. I am always in control, but here? I am lost.
She raises her head, eyes glistening in the dim light, then she scoots across the bed until she is in my lap. She lays her head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around her tightly. I run my hands through her hair and wait. In time, she quiets.
“Sorry, we should sleep,” she says, straightening. She rubs the palms of her hands on her face.
“Kiara,” I say. “What happened? Why do you cry out in the night?”
She bites her lip then frowns. She closes her eyes, inhales deeply, then exhales in a long slow breath.
“I’ve been on some bad ops,” she says, staring off into somewhere else. “That’s all.”
The lie in her words is so clear it could be the