Excerpt of Fighting Lady Jayne by Michelle M. Pillow

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.