Excerpt of The Star Necklace by Carly Carson

“Lata.” Ronan breathed out her name word on a long sigh.
“Try to understand.” He drew her other hand into his clasp
and tightened his grip. “I can’t stay here on your planet.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t want to use you.” He paused, his eyes gleaming like
the dark waters of a surging night sea.

“You deserve more from a man than what I’m prepared to give.”

“One night of passion,” she whispered, unable to speak
clearly over the emotion clogging her throat.

“That’s all I want.” Goddess, please don’t let me beg.

“Passion! What do you know of passion?” His voice rumbled as
he struggled to speak quietly, when she could see from the
stiffness in his shoulders, from the lines of tension
bracketing his strong mouth that some deep emotion held him
in thrall. “All these years a virgin when you should have
been lying naked in a man’s arms every night.”

His hands gripped hers as a night wind blew over them,
bringing his cool, star-kissed scent to her. She curved
closer to capture it.

Maybe she didn’t know much about passion. But she’d felt the
strength beneath his gentle fingers when he touched her.
She’d felt the sharpness of his teeth behind his tender
kisses, nipping her in sensitive places. Underneath the
patience and control he exhibited at all times, she sensed a
fierce potency she wanted to unleash. If that was passion,
she wanted it. This man with the hard eyes and the tender
hands called out to something deep within her.

Her gaze met his and she understood suddenly that exploring
her own sensuality was part of the call to adventure that
had drawn her forth from her Temple home. And she understood
more—the call to explore her sensuality had been sparked by
her attraction to this man. This man and no other.

But could she convince him that what felt so right to her
could also feel right to him? He was a strong man, with a
strong moral code. Deflowering a virgin was not something
he’d do lightly—he’d convinced her of that. She drew a deep
breath.

“Ronan, when you touched my hair, it felt so good. Not like
when Maemae or one of my friends fixed it.” She leaned
closer. “When you touched me, I felt it…deep inside. I
thought that was passion—the way a man handled a woman.”

“No.” Ronan leaned into the electricity sparking between
them. His gaze riveted on her lips and she saw the moment
when he capitulated. “Goddess! You drive me to it.” He
shoved both hands in her hair and brought her face close to
his. “A man would handle you like this.” His fingers
tightened just enough on her hair so that she felt the pull
against her scalp.

“And here’s why a man would do it.” Still holding her
tightly, both hands wound in her hair, he brought his head
down, and pressed his lips against hers. Hard. Her mouth
opened under his demand and his tongue plunged in. He filled
her mouth, his teeth scraped her tongue, and she rose to her
knees, drawn to his heat like water to a fissure, an
eruption certain.

Their bodies touched briefly, one sparkle of zinging
delight, and then Ronan moved.

“No.” He dropped his hands and pulled back sharply, as if
he’d been scalded. “I have responsibilities, obligations. I
am not free to simply lie down and partake of a woman who
tempts me.” He shook his head as if he needed the negative
motion to reinforce his words.

“Then you should have left me to Lucas,” she cried out,
chagrin and disappointment roiling within her in a toxic brew.

“The blonde man who bid at the end?”

“Yes.” She pressed her hands against her thighs, afraid that
any movement would bring her again into contact with his heat.

“Did you want him?” Ronan’s voice rumbled fiercely as his
gaze snapped to hers.

“I preferred anyone to Sheckel.”

Ronan’s mouth tightened, a firm slash across his tense face.
“Lucas wanted you. I could see it on his face.”

Lata shrugged, striving for a casualness she didn’t feel. It
was time to try to salvage some of her dignity.

“Desire is such a transitory thing, don’t you think? If he
didn’t have me, he’d find another woman.”

“Is that how you feel about desire?” He leaned closer until
his breath touched her face. “If not one man, another will do?”

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know anything about desire…until
recently.”

“How recently?”

“When you kissed me…after the auction.”

“That was a show, for the Temple elders.”

“It still felt good. Then, in my room…”

“Another kiss. Nothing more.” He waved his hand.

He could dismiss it. But she wouldn’t. She’d been kissed by
Toric, and by a few other men over the years. None had
affected her the way Ronan had. No other kiss had produced
that tingly, melting feeling that reached from her lips all
the way through her body. None had sparked a sharp yearning
for more. A spark that danced within her, searching for an
answering light to ignite a fire that would burn out of control.

“No, Ronan.” She looked up at him. “You know it was more
than just a kiss.”

“This is more.” He drew his forefinger down between her
breasts. Her nipples hardened under his watchful eyes.
“That’s desire. Subtle. A man needs to pay attention to
catch a woman’s signals.” He curved his hand and moved it
slowly over one breast towards her nipple. “Do you want me
to keep going?”

“Yes.” The word sighed through her parted lips.

“That, too, is desire.” His fingers moved onto her nipple
and he stroked it, gently. She tried to breathe.

Her back arched in wordless supplication.

“Harder?” His voice scraped her skin.

“Yes, oh, yes.” She couldn’t have imagined something that
felt this good.

He increased the pressure almost imperceptibly, leaning over
her, the darkness that was his body the only thing she could
see.

“Where do you feel it now?” His low voice rumbled in her
ear, adding another texture to the delicious sensations
washing over her.

“Everywhere.” She sighed, opening her eyes when his hand
left her breast.

“How does it feel?” His dark voice continued to tickle her ear.

“Tingly and achy, and wonderful and…”

“And?”

“Like something is missing.”

He laughed shortly.

“Yeah, that’s desire, the good and the bad.”