The Gladiator and the Thief [NOOK Book]

Of all the people in Toru City, how had she managed to steal from Kei Rewu yet again? There would be hell to pay, of that she had no doubt. The gladiator handled her as though she weighed no more than a wisp of smoke, easily removing her clothes and tossing them in the corner of the huge shower. He held her against him as one hand reached out to pump a slippery liquid into his palm. She felt his cock go hard against her lower back as he smoothed the fragrant concoction over her belly. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands moved over her breasts. Oh, flaming mother!

She was twenty years old and no stranger to a man's touch, but she'd never craved it before. In her limited experience, she equated a man's hands with cruelty. But not the gladiator's. His hands moved over her body smoothing the fresh-smelling soap into a rich lather. He returned to her breasts, gently massaging, teasing her nipples to hardened points. She moaned.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice velvety soft in her ear.

"No one," she gasped, arching into his hands. Oh gods, what devilry did this man possess to make her body ache so?

Those hard, gentle hands skimmed down her body, over her hips, and dipped between her legs. Oh yes. Oh it was magic, the things he did with his hands. His finger slid across her clit and she moaned, pressing against him at the slow, circular motion. He moved lower and the finger thrust gently into her core. Who knew a man could bring such pleasure? She should stop him, but it felt so good.

"What's your name?"

"I..." The finger went deep. She moaned. "Ilara. My name's Ilara."

The finger left her and she mourned its passing. Until his hands moved to herhair, massaging her scalp as fragrant scent surrounded her. No one had ever washed her hair for her, not since she was a child. Certainly no man.

"What were you doing in my garden, Ilara?"

The voice was a gentle caress, as relaxing as the strong fingers on her scalp.

"We ... I ... was hungry."

"Mmm, I see."

He maneuvered her under the spray, rinsed the soap from her hair, and continued his leisurely exploration of her body under the guise of washing her. More bubbly lather covered her legs, and she gasped at the scrape of a razor down the backs of her legs. "I ... what are you doing?"

"I'm shaving your legs, little thief."

He turned her around and began working on her front. The smooth blade skimmed over her slippery skin like a whisper. He rose, lifted her arms, and ran the blade over her armpits, then set the razor aside. He leaned down, pressed his lips to the delicate flesh he'd bared.

"Soft and sweet," he murmured, then raised his head to gaze in her eyes.

She had very little experience with kissing, but she was fascinated by the amount of time he took, teasing her lips apart, nibbling her lower lip, sucking on it.

"Open your mouth, Ilara," he demanded. "Touch your tongue to mine." When she did, he curled his tongue around hers in a sensuous glide. He drew it into his mouth, sucking gently before releasing it and plunging into hers. She was straining against him, moaning softly when he left her mouth to chart a torturous course down her body. It was an outrage, it was decadent, it was so very alluring--and downright dangerous to a woman who lived with the constant threat of danger.

She would have voiced a token protest had he not pressed her against the tile wall, draped a leg over his shoulder, and buried his mouth in her pussy. As it was, all she could manage was a strangled cry as she fisted her hands in his hair and held on for dear life.

What was he doing to her? No man had ever put his mouth on her in such a fashion. It was scandalous, and ... gods, it was good. He opened her with his thumbs, teasing her slippery flesh as his tongue swirled around her clit. Those clever thumbs slipped inside her, pumping, moving back to open her again as his lips teased her swollen bud, then sucked it, pulling hard even as his tongue flicked again and again.

"Aaahh ... ah!" she cried out as a long, blunt finger thrust into her. Her hips jerked, and she uttered a sob of sheer pleasure. "Please ... oooh ... oh, please!"

His chuckle vibrated against her clit. "What is it, little thief? Shall I make you come?"

"I ... I don't know what that means," she gasped.

"You've never had an orgasm?" He ran his tongue along her slit.

"I ... don't ... knooow! I need ... something ... Oh gods ... have me." Oh, flaming mother, he was licking her like she was some sweet treat!

"Believe me," he murmured against intimate flesh. "You'd know if you'd ever come. But we're about to increase your knowledge base, little one."

Ilara thought she might pass out, the pleasure was so intense. Gibberish spewed from her parted lips as her body tightened. What the hell was happening to her? She felt as though she were burning alive. Her belly clenched as white-hot heat washed over her, rushing through her body like a drug. Oh gods, what was he doing to her? Her hand fisted in his hair as something inside her exploded.

"No, no," she sobbed as he drank from her.

"Yes," he said softly.