Fated Mate Conquered - Luna Voss Page 0,22
fuck is wrong with me? Am I really allowing myself to think about Kora like this? Kora, the cute little Voorian girl who used to be my prison guard?
And then I lift my head, and my nostrils take in another whiff of that incredible, delicious scent. And I know.
I fucking know.
Fuck everything. How am I supposed to live another second without making the source of that smell mine? I don’t care that Kora is half my age and possibly experiencing her first heat. I don’t care that every time she sees me, she either insults me, or ignores me.
All I care about is the fact that I fucking need her.
There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do, no rule I wouldn’t break, no one I wouldn’t kill to put my mark on Kora’s neck and fill her cunt with my knot.
Kora
I want the entire world to die. It’s cruel, evil, and shouldn’t exist. Why, oh why, did I have to be born a Voorian?
In the past, I had been really frustrated that I was 18, 19, 20 years old without having my first heat. I thought it made me seem immature. I wanted to be grown-up. Now I know that heats are terrible, and anything that saves me even one of them is a blessing. I don’t ever want to feel like this again.
I lie in bed, my nipples rock-hard and my clit aching, desperate for a release that I’m utterly unable to achieve on my own. All I’m wearing is a big sleep shirt with nothing under it, pressing my fingers futilely against my crotch in a pitiful effort to feel something. Half of me wants to cry and the other half of me wants to tear this room to pieces, but I don’t have the will to do either. I’m just miserable and numb.
Suddenly, I hear someone outside my door. I freeze. Are they going to knock? My heart almost skips a beat. Except for whoever is piloting the ship, the other members of the crew should be in bed.
It is a knock. A gentle, but insistent one. Before I even have a chance to respond, the door opens slightly.
“Kora,” comes Turan’s voice in an urgent whisper.
I spring out of bed and rush to the door.
“Yes?” I answer, biting my lip and peering through the crack.
Turan doesn’t even say anything, just pushes his way into my room and closes the door behind him. I stare, confused, but elated. What is he doing?
“You’re in heat,” he says gruffly. It isn’t a question. It’s a statement. I almost whimper as I look back at him. I’m sure he can see the desperation in my eyes.
But I can see something else in his eyes too. Need. Pure, single-minded need. And behind it, something else. Something reckless. A desire to conquer, to dominate, to have his way no matter the cost. I haven’t seen that in Turan before. It makes me shiver.
In that moment of eye contact, I realize that something has changed. Whatever wall of professionalism he kept between us before is gone. And his intentions are far from innocent. I part my lips as I look back at him, feeling a deep, yearning need emanating from my core.
With a growl, Turan steps toward me and one of his big hands closes around my neck. I whimper as he pushes me back against the wall, his strength and size evident as he overpowers me.
“Tell me you want this,” he snarls in my ear as goosebumps spread over me. “Tell me you want me to knot your little cunt and make you mine.”
I feel so dominated with his hand on my throat, so vulnerable, so feminine and small as he pins me there. I also feel safe. He’s not choking me, just showing me he’s the boss in the most direct way possible. I feel my entire body crying out in response, my arousal ratcheted up to an impossible, unbearable level. I’m so turned on I can hardly breathe.
“Say it,” he growls.
“I want it,” I gasp, incapable of giving any other answer. I do want it. I want so bad.
His hand slips under my nightshirt and finds the slippery place between my legs. My little bean is swollen with need, and he pinches it between his fingers, causing my legs to buckle. He looks pleased as he watches me, holding me up by my neck and by my crotch.
“You’re going to learn to submit to my authority,” he whispers, one of his