Soft, mhmm.
That was the first thought that entered her
head as she burrowed deeper under the silky soft things. Softer than her duvet at home.
That made her open her eyes, her lids resisting all the way.
High glass ceilings that let the moonlight filter in soft dreamy touches,was the first thing that her eyes snag on.
The kind you see in fairy tales. Gothic arches, bronze braziers set high on the walls. Polished marbled floors.
Various kinds of weapons graced the walls like art pieces. Hallways that seemed to go on forever.
She sat up slowly, pulling away the soft fur cover, letting out a gasp of fury; she was dressed in a silky sheer shift that cling to all her curves..
Her hair was clean and smelling faintly of jasmine and vanilla. Someone had bathed her, changed her into this atrocity. Someone had seen her n*ked.
Laid up on a bed of furs, like an ancient virginal sacrifice.
Either this was a nightmare or she was starring in someone's sick fantasy. That was when it all came back to her in snippets, tall dark stranger, golden eyes, perfect specimen with the dark perchant of kidnapping women.
"Welcome, My Queen."
And seated upon a throne, that was thrumming with a primal ancient pulse; was the object of her dilemma.
Watching her like a slavering predator, who had sighted his prey.
He was the epitome of badboys that her unknown mother never got the chance to warn her about. The ones that mothers everywhere hide beneath fairytales of knights in shining armor.
His chest was bare, his skin a soft polished gold under the moonlight, gleaming with sweat, sliding down a defined eight pack ab, etched in ropy scars that spoke of a lifetime of brutal conflict.
Wearing soft leather pants that slung over s*xy hips. He was someone that would have to fend off female attention in droves.
His hair an unbound ink of wildness His face…
God. His face. Still make her dumbstruck.
Those damned eyes. Hungry and untamed, they belonged better on an animal, a wolf.
"What the f**k do you think you're playing at?! She snapped furiously shoving furs aside.
Just like that, he rose.
His body uncoiling, a symphony of raw male devastation with utterly unrestrained power.
He moved towards her, silent and deliberate, each step an inexorable promise. Of heat. Of ruin. Of absolute, final domination.
She knew only one thing, he shouldn't put those hands on her.
Ever again.
So she did what any sane female would do.
She ran.
Bolted.
Questions?
Answers didn't matter. Not one bit.
There was only primal instinct, bypassing all commands, choosing flight.
Adrenaline coursing her body makes her move faster.
Aching feet slipping on the polished stone floors, but adrenaline gave her speed.
And faster she went.
Heart hammering, wild, frantic drum beating echoing in her chest. Skidding around corners, gulping air thick with the smell of smoke, leather, and something sharp,something primal. Him.
' It was that damned mirror, and daring, crazy Bree who never shys away from danger. Combined with that merlot.' She thought as she rounded another corner.
Tripping over a rug thick enough to hide a body underneath, and slammed into something solid.
No.
It wasn't something.
It was him.
The beast. The man.
His large hands went around her upper arms with brutal ease, pulling her into his chest as if she were a ragdoll.
She kicked and flailed, screaming obscenities.
But still he held on as if scared to let her out of sight. His body was rigid and unforgiving, his strength unshakable.