A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,28

up hopelessly lost.

As Tarrys had predicted, the light illuminating their path disappeared quickly, leaving no trail unless their pursuers were close enough to see it.

The Esri weren't likely to find them.

Not unless they had a magical way to track them.

And that was something he'd rather not think about.

They continued in silence, careful to touch the walls as little as possible.

Charlie glanced back over and over, looking for the sign of a light in the distance that would warn him that they were being followed.

But the cave remained dark behind them.

Slowly, he began to believe they might actually get away.

No sooner had the thought sprouted in his head than Tarrys turned abruptly and launched herself past him.

Charlie's arm shot out to snare her, but the illness was making him slow and his center of balance was off from having to bend over.

He caught her at the last possible second, and they went down hard on the crystal.

"He calls me."

Tarrys's voice pleaded with him to help her though she fought him like a banshee.

One kick of her heel landed squarely on his jaw sending pain crackling through his head.

He yanked her hard until she was under him, her flailing fists caught in his hands as he pinned her to the floor with his body.

Grasping both her wrists with one hand, he fished beneath his tunic for the length of rope he'd brought.

Beneath him, her hips rocked feverishly.

Sweet heaven.

He stared down into her face as she bucked and thrashed, her expression filled with a misery that tore at his heart.

Tears leaked from her eyes.

"Charlie, I need...I need.

" The heat coming from her body burned him inside and out.

"How long is this going to last?" "Until I'm penetrated."

Penetrated.

The blood surged to his groin so fast his head swam.

It would be so easy.

So easy... "Can you...make yourself come?" "No.

It's not enough.

I would have you."

The breath hissed out of his lungs.

"Please, Charlie.

Mate with me.

End this.

" Holy hell.

His baser nature rose to the fore, slapping him on the back.

She needs it, man.

It's for her.

But that was the thing.

She didn't want any of this.

Her body begged for release to relieve the torture the Esri had inflicted upon her, but that was all.

And not nearly enough.

When all was said and done, he refused to help that bastard rape her, even if he longed to lift the hem of her gown and sink himself deep inside her so badly that he was shaking from the need.

"Tarrys..." Her head thrashed back and forth, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

"You don't understand.

This won't stop until I have something inside me."

She was frantic now, her body shaking, her movements jerky and desperate.

"I must end this."

He had to find a way to help her.

The last thing he wanted was to make this any harder on her than it already was.

With his free hand, he gripped her chin, stilling her thrashing head, and kissed her hard.

She met his kiss with a ferocity that left him reeling...and sent his lust spiraling out of control.

Releasing her wrists, he shoved his fingers into her short hair, loving the softness, and the feel of her delicate head in his hands.

Her arms surged around his neck, pulling him tighter as her frantic tongue met his, as her hips rocked feverishly against his.

He kissed her with all the passion that swirled inside him, telling her of his desire while his hand slowly slid down her body.

He moved off her, keeping her penned with one leg as he pulled her gown up and pushed his hand between her damp thighs.

Instantly, she struggled against the weight of his leg, trying to spread her own.

As he continued to kiss her, inhaling her sweet scent, worshipping her with his mouth, he stroked her wet folds with two fingers, then pushed them deep inside her.

Her cry filled his mouth as she shoved her hips upward, silently screaming for more.

He pushed a third finger inside and she took them all, thrusting against his hand, drenching him in her passion, sweeping him up until his own body shook, desperate for release, damning him for the morals that refused to let him take her.

He ground his mouth against hers as her fingers dug into his hair and she grabbed his head, forcing him closer.

Her hips rose and fell, undulating with the thrusts of his fingers.

Her movements grew more frantic, more frenzied.

Her groans harsher, needier, and he hoped she was racing toward completion, prayed he wasn't making things worse.

The fragrance of her sex changed subtly, floral scents filling the small