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Divinity Warriors #2
The Raven Books
February 2012
On Sale: February 7, 2012
Featuring: Ronen of Firewall; Jayne Hart
200 pages
ISBN: 1452447357
EAN: 9781452447353
Kindle: B0076OCDVM
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Ronen endeavored to slow his racing heart. Never in the
history of his people had a woman stood up and announced
her choice. But today, at this ceremony, it had happened to
him. Lady Jayne chose to be his wife. She chose him. She
wanted him. And she didn't hesitate, or doubt, or hold
back. She sang her desire to the world, stroking his
masculine pride for all to see. Perhaps the gods knew he'd
hesitate to say the words himself and gave her voice to
initiate the claim. Either way, she belonged to him.
Ronen grinned. Mine.
The war gods smiled upon him for his deeds in battle and
rewarded him with a gorgeous woman with an animalistic
appetite to fuel his. He'd felt the envious eyes of the
others as he whisked his new bride away to his chambers in
the Mace Tower. None would dare to touch her, no matter how
much they wanted to.
He breathed deeply, panting as if it had taken all his
strength to walk the winding stairwell. Already he could
envision tearing the clothes from her body, finding the
soft womanly flesh, those secret crevices and gentle slopes
only a lover could touch. He tried not to let his eagerness
show, but he found himself slamming the door shut behind
him.
"I hope this meets with my lady's approval." Ronen
motioned around his tower room. None of the Starian men
took pains to decorate their chambers and he was no
different. A few necessary staples graced the room—a
large bed with thick fur blankets, a weapons' wall to
display and hold the majority of his belongings, the
fireplace, a thickly cushioned chair and a trunk for his
belongings. He motioned toward the far door next to his
bed. "That door leads to your room."
"You live here?" she asked, her voice losing some of the
smoky seduction of before.
"When I am here," he answered. "Normally I live at the
battlefront or at Firewall Castle, my family home, before
it burnt to the ground."
"Firewall burnt down?" Her mouth twisted slightly and he
wasn't sure he appreciated the humor she seemed to find at
the irony.
He stiffened defensively. "It will be rebuilt when the
resources can be spared."
Jayne's face sobered and she nodded, guarding her
expression from him. Instantly, the playfulness came back
and he realized it was a practiced look, a defense, a way
to hide her true emotions from the world around her. He
wondered at it and opened his mouth to speak, but her words
stopped him.
"This will do, I've stayed in worse." She made a show of
walking around his room, touching his things with the
delicate tips of her fingers. Each seductive brush sent an
erotic shiver over his flesh, as if she marked all he was
as her own. She ran her index finger over the long center
indent of a sword. When she reached the end, she jerked her
finger away, making a small noise of surprise. She stuck
the digit between her lips and sucked. Ronen nearly came
undone at the sight.
"Sharp," she whispered around her finger, indicating
she'd cut herself.
Firelight caressed her every move, casting shadows in
stark relief across her face. The orange glow caught up in
her eyes, giving them a temptress's gleam. He swallowed
over the hard lump in his throat. She didn't look away and
for the first time in Ronen's life he felt helpless.
"You have a lot of weapons." Jayne let the finger slip
from her lips as she stepped brazenly toward him. Ronen
couldn't move, could barely breathe. "Are they decoration
or do you know how to use them?"
"Men must be..." His breathing deepened and he could
barely concentrate to answer as her eyes glanced to the bed
and back again. It had been so long since he'd been with a
woman. The camp followers were few and the number of men
they serviced were many. "Must be prepared for battle."
"That doesn't answer my question, Lord Ronen. I asked if
you knew how to wield your weapons." She smiled, an
achingly seductive look. The white material of her gown
clung to her breasts, teasing him as it hid her body from
view. A strand of inky black hair fell over her smooth
cheek. Every thought in his head centered on the hard heat
of his cock. Never had it felt so full and thick,
practically throbbing for attention.
Ronen nodded. "Yea, of course. I have held a sword since
the night I was born and..."
Sanity left him. How could he think with her lips so
close, so full and lush? How could he concentrate when
every breath brought him the scent of a clean field,
untouched by bloodshed? Never had a woman chosen him above
all others. Sure, the camp followers enjoyed his bed on
those rare moments he'd been in their company, but he was
one of many to them. Lady Jayne chose him to be her one and
the very idea of it spun his brain around in his head.
She touched the middle of his chest. It was just a
gentle fingertip but enough to send a shiver over his
entire frame. Jayne ran the caress down his tunic, just
like she had with the sword blade. Reaching his waist, she
stopped right next to his erection. "All your weapons?"
He tilted his jaw down in affirmation, realizing what
she'd meant. Her hand cupped his cock, wrapping it tight
though the material of his tunic and breeches. Ronen balled
his hands into fists, curious to see what she'd do next.
"Yea," he managed, completely disarmed.
Jayne licked her lips and tugged at her gown. She pulled
the material over her head, inching it slowly up. Strong,
tan calves grew into perfect thighs. Tradition dictated
that she'd be naked under the gown and he waited with bated
breath to see the apex revealed. Naked, shaved flesh or
soft black curls?
Absently, he tugged at the laces on his shoulder to
loosen his tunic. The gown moved higher and his fingers
stopped. Short curls formed into a strip to guard her sex,
greeting him. Sleek muscles and rounded hips tapered to a
flat stomach. With a deft swoop, she jerked the gown over
her head. Breasts bobbed at the motion, a perfect handful.
Dusky, round nipples puckered in the firelight, erect and
begging for attention.
"Prove it," she ordered.
Ronen sprung into action, happy to obey. As he shoved
his long tunic aside and tore at the laces to his breeches,
she backed into the bed. He followed her, his pants falling
over his boots to trap his feet. Jayne gasped, her eyes
going to his full arousal.
No thoughts beyond the driving need to feel the warmth
of her wet pussy passed through his mind. He needed her. He
wanted her. He had to be inside her. Now.