Overlords Chosen Read online

  Micah splayed his hand across her stomach, feeling her muscles tremble under his caress. “Late at night, do you touch yourself?” His lips coasted around the shell of her ear, inciting more tremors. “Do you give your body the relief it craves?”

  “Leave me alone,” she whimpered. “Please.”

  “Not until you answer me. Do you touch yourself, Elizabeth?”

  She dropped her chin, refusing to look at him. He spun and pinned her against the nearest tree. She shoved at him, but he wouldn’t be budged. Finally, she raised her gaze to his. Thought deserted him as he stared into her storm-swept eyes.

  He tried to tell himself he should leave her be, but he couldn’t. Instead, he pushed her. “Who is your imaginary lover? Whom do you think of late at night when your body trembles under your fingertips?”

  She squeezed shut her eyes as if she could make him vanish. He chuckled. Now that he had his hands on her, it wouldn’t be that easy.

  “Shall I guess, then?”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him. “I don’t care what you do.”

  He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Hmm…” He tapped his finger to his chin as if deep in thought. “Is it the miller’s son?”

  Her brows furrowed and incredulity lit her eyes.

  “No? Then, perhaps, Emrys, the shepherd?”

  Her lips twitched, but she pressed them together in annoyance. He wet the tip of his forefinger and tenderly traced her mouth.

  “Who heats your blood, I wonder.”

  Her gaze clashed briefly with his before she glanced away. She bit her full, lower lip as her normally porcelain skin flushed a deep rose. Squirming, she tried to free herself from his grasp. Her body twisted and pushed against his as she struggled, arousing him further.

  He’d toyed with her long enough. Cupping her head in his hands, he angled her face to meet his. “I want you, too.”

  Her eyes widened. He felt her sharp intake of breath all the way to the pit of his stomach.

  Elizabeth froze. What did he mean he wanted her, too? She hadn’t spoken aloud—had she? Micah’s hand cradled the side of her face as he stroked her neck with his fingertips. Calluses attested to the time he’d spent training and on the battlefield. Shivers skated over her skin, following the path of his hands.

  Helpless to do more than stare into his eyes, she moistened her dry lips as he moved closer, filling her entire range of vision. All she could see was Micah—his eyes dark with intent, his firm, parted lips. His whispered words caressed her skin. “Someday, you’ll show me how you touched yourself when you thought of me.”

  She gasped as his meaning sank in, but he’d already reached her mouth, swallowing the sound with his lips. Heat swept over her senses. Sweet, wet heat. Micah tunneled his fingers through her hair, grazing her scalp with his nails. The pinpricks of pleasure-pain surged through her as his tongue slipped past her shocked defenses. No man had ever kissed her like this.

  He stroked the inside of her mouth, tasting her, biting at her lips. Dizzy with desire, she timidly mimicked his actions, returning his kiss. With no conscious effort, her arms circled his neck, and she pressed her body to his. His groan shuddered against her neck, heightening her senses as he ground his arousal against her. The bark bit into her back through the thin fabric of her dress, but she barely noticed. Pinned between the hard tree behind her and the equally hard man in front of her, she wanted more.

  “Elizabeth!” her father’s voice rang through the forest.

  The haze of desire vanished. She remembered why she was here and why she should be running. She pushed at Micah’s chest, desperate to flee.

  “Elizabeth!” her father called again.

  As she struggled, her nails sliced across Micah’s skin where the tunic gapped. He hissed through clenched teeth. In a movement so quick she hadn’t seen it coming, he pinned both of her wrists above her head.

  He loomed over her, and she swallowed hard, watching the blood well at his throat. With his free hand, he swiped his fingertip across the wound. He frowned at the thin sheen of liquid coating his skin. With slow, deliberate movements, he smeared his blood at the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat frantically under his touch.

  “Never forget, leannan,” he whispered, his voice harsh. “You’re mine, now.” His hot breath coasted over her skin. “Mine to punish.”

  He nipped her neck hard enough to draw a gasp from her lips.

  “Mine to fuck.”

  He squeezed her wrists together, and she knew she’d have bruises by tonight.

  “Mine. For the rest of your life.”

  She forced herself to hold his gaze as if she had nothing to hide. If he discovered her secrets, the rest of her life might not be long at all.

  “Milord,” her father panted as he stumbled into view. “You’ve found her.” Catching his breath, he sliced a green branch from a nearby tree with his knife. “Shall I beat her for you, milord?”

  Elizabeth blinked several times, uncertain if she’d heard him correctly. She wasn’t sure what was more astounding—the fact that he’d offered to discipline her or the way he groveled to Micah. Judging from his behavior, she suspected he’d offer to light the kindling if they burned her at the stake. She’d never expected him to protect her. After all, he hadn’t tried to save his own wife. But at the same time, Elizabeth had never thought he’d be so eager to hurt her.

  Elizabeth glared at her father, but Micah’s eyes never left her face. He skimmed the backs of his fingers over her cheeks, drawing her attention back to his harsh beauty.

  “I prefer to administer my own form of punishment.”

  His tone was conversational, but his eyes blazed with anger. And lust. Her insides twisted, and she grew damp with sudden need. Squeezing her thighs together, she tried to quell her reaction. As if he sensed her response, he chuckled. The low sound vibrated up her spine.

  “I’ll send a detachment to fetch her belongings. Have them ready.”

  “Yes, milord,” her father stammered.

  Was he planning to curtsy next? Disgust curled her lip. If Micah thought she’d behave in such a manner, he was sorely mistaken. She might feign acquiescence, but as soon as she had a chance, she’d run away.

  Micah studied her, a predatory smile curving his mouth. His expression seemed to dare her to escape. Despite the worry trembling in her belly, she returned his smile, enjoying the questions that surfaced in his eyes.

  “Ready my horse,” he growled at her father. “I’m taking my woman.”

  Her father hurried back toward their home. It wasn’t hers anymore, she supposed. Strange, she would have expected to feel more sadness. She’d miss Maureen. A little. But as frequently as her sister visited the temple guardians and the soldiers, Elizabeth would likely see her often enough.

  Micah didn’t release his ruthless hold on her wrists. He merely shifted his grip and tugged her along behind him as he pushed through the forest. He strode toward the clearing as if he expected the trees to part for his passage. She and Micah seemed to move with uncommon ease through the overgrowth. Maybe the branches did move for him. Perhaps his abilities affected plant life. Still, she sensed nothing that would indicate he used magic.

  She shook her head to clear it. She should be planning an escape not pondering his powers. Besides, she had a sinking feeling she’d experience those powers soon enough.

  They emerged through the last of the trees and low-lying brush that surrounded the cottage. Her father held the horse’s reins, waiting like the perfect sycophant. While she’d never been close to him, she hadn’t expected his eagerness to rid himself of her. The betrayal stung more than she wanted to admit.

  Elizabeth glanced at the ground as Micah led her to the huge, black horse that snorted and pawed at the earth. Her basket of herbs lay crushed under the beast’s foot, visual confirmation she no longer belonged here.

  Micah lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. The triumph she expected to see
was conspicuously absent. Instead, he studied her as if discovering something he hadn’t before noticed. What if he could sense magical ability as she could? Was that what he’d ascertained? Belatedly, she attempted to shield the raw power that flowed through her.

  “Can I trust you to stay here while I mount?” His voice was a pleasing rumble that slid over her skin.

  Before she could answer, her arms were roughly pinned behind her back. Her shoulders burned at the twisting sensation.

  “Release her,” Micah thundered. “I did not ask for your assistance.”

  “Forgive me, milord. I didn’t want her to run again.” Her father freed her arms more slowly than she would have liked. “She’s a willful one,” he warned.

  “She is no longer your concern.”

  The older man stepped back. “Aye, milord.”

  Elizabeth shifted and stretched but remained silent.

  “You didn’t answer me, leannan. Can I trust you?”

  The question seemed to hint at far more than the present moment.

  “I won’t run.” Now.

  His lips curved slightly in that sinful smile she suddenly wanted to taste, and his gaze heated. Without taking his eyes from her, he swung himself over the horse’s back. Fascinated, she watched the play of muscles shifting beneath his well-fitted braes.

  His huge hands gripped the reins, steadying the beast, and she couldn’t help but imagine those same hands on her body. Her skin still burned where he’d stroked and caressed her. She knew he’d restrained himself in the forest. What would he be like in the privacy of his chambers? Would he hurt her? Would he be a gentle lover or cruel? She trembled, fear and excitement vying for supremacy.

  Captured in Micah’s burning gaze, Elizabeth stared, feeling like a mouse hypnotized by a viper. The irony wasn’t lost on her. For a brief moment, she considered running but to what avail? He’d either trample her with that great beast of his or he’d capture her and who knew what manner of punishment she’d suffer. As it was, she suspected her earlier transgression wouldn’t go ignored.

  Once Micah was settled on the horse’s back, he leaned down and lifted her onto his lap. His hard thighs shifted under hers, igniting a heavy, aching want that seeped through her limbs. She stiffened, unwilling to let him know how his nearness affected her.

  Without another word to her father, Micah urged the horse into a trot. Nearly losing her balance, she gripped his thighs. His hard arousal pressed into her hip, and her stomach fluttered with nervousness. If he was as large as he felt, there was no way she’d be able to accommodate him.

  Her sister had always said, “The bigger, the better,” but Elizabeth wasn’t so sure. Perhaps, if she were as experienced as Maureen, it would be fine. Unfortunately, she’d never had a man. No one but Micah had interested her enough. His earlier comment returned to her. The ritual of joining required a virgin. Hope blossomed. Maybe she’d escape her fate after all.

  “I’m not a virgin,” she blurted, hazarding a glance at his face.

  Rich laughter rolled from him, stroking her senses like warmed velvet. She looked away from him, refusing to hold his gaze. He slowed the horse and lifted her chin. His brown eyes crinkled enticingly at the corners. She fisted her hand to keep from smoothing the skin with her fingertips.

  “You don’t expect me to believe you’ve been with a man, do you, leannan?”

  She glared at him. What did he mean by that? “Are you suggesting no man would want me?”

  His smile faded, and his expression grew grim. “I’m not suggesting that at all. I’ve seen the attention you attract.” He didn’t sound pleased.

  “Then why do you laugh?” She tossed her head. “I’ve lain with so many, I’ve lost count.”

  Micah leaned forward and grazed the side of her neck with his teeth. “You’re lucky I don’t believe you or I’d have to leave you at the soldiers’ barracks.”

  Her breath caught, and she swallowed heavily. She knew what would happen there.

  He slid his hand up her abdomen and cupped her breast. Without warning, he twisted her nipple and heat shot savagely through her body. She bit back a gasp.

  His lips soothed area he’d scraped a moment ago, and he slid his hands over her thighs, his fingertips veering dangerously close to her mound. She crossed her feet at the ankles and squeezed her legs together.

  “No, leannan,” he murmured, continuing to stroke her. “I don’t believe you’ve spread your legs for any man. Even so, by law, there must be proof.”

  “Proof?” she choked out.

  “The guardians,” he gritted, sounding angry, “will judge your purity.”

  Fear closed her throat. “How?”

  Refusing to answer, Micah secured one arm around her waist and urged the horse into a gallop. The motion forced her against the warmth of his chest. She tried to think. Surely, the guardians would sense her abilities. She needed to find a way to escape, or in a matter of hours, she would be dead.

  Chapter Two

  Micah tightened his grip around Elizabeth’s waist as they approached the keep. He didn’t believe her story of lying with more men than she could remember, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it. He should have fucked her in the forest as he’d wanted. They could have avoided the rite of proof. But that would have caused other problems.

  He shook his head, unsure why it mattered. If the guardians had erred, they’d find him a suitable mate. He frowned. He wanted Elizabeth. He’d lied when he’d threatened to leave her at the barracks. The thought of her passed from man to man was more than he could bear. If she wasn’t pure, he’d simply keep her in his chambers until he’d had his fill of her sweet body.

  She’d been willing enough, in the woods—responding to his advances, melting against his body, drawing him closer. He could still taste her on his lips, and he wanted more.

  The gates swung open as they approached, and she stiffened in his arms. Fear vibrated through her though he could tell she tried to hide it. The courtyard had been bustling with the activity of vendors selling their wares, but movement stilled as he halted his mount in front of doors to the inner bailey.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the black-robed guardians lining the steps to await his return. Micah considered reassuring her but thought better of it. She’d given him enough trouble this morning. Perhaps anxiety would keep her willfulness at bay. If not, her punishment would increase.

  His cock stirred at the images that evoked. He hadn’t thought he could get any harder. Riding the distance from her cottage to the keep, with her hip moving rhythmically against his groin, had been torture. Worse, her warm scent had twined around him until baring her flesh had become his first priority.

  Asher, his oldest friend, threw back his hood and stepped from the rest of the guardians. Summoning a groom to take Micah’s mount to the stable, he advanced, his assessing gaze intent on Elizabeth.

  Hostility burned through Micah’s veins, followed quickly by confusion. There had been plenty of nights when he and Asher had shared the same woman. From the look in his friend’s eyes, he contemplated pleasuring Elizabeth in that way. Micah stifled the growl that crawled up his throat but not soon enough. She turned to look at him, her lips parted in surprise, and the other man laughed.

  Micah glared at his friend. “Go to hell.”

  “In due time.” Reaching up, Asher motioned for him to release Elizabeth so he could help her alight. Micah sighed and handed her down. Dismounting with a near painful erection would be difficult, but he wouldn’t leave her alone with his friend longer than necessary.

  What was the matter with him? He had no attachment to this woman. He felt nothing for her beyond the needs of his body.

  A flash of red moving toward him caught his eye. Willem, the chancellor, his father’s head advisor—his now, he supposed—walked though the courtyard at a clipped pace. Micah threw his leg over his mount’s back and leapt to the ground, hoping to drag Elizabeth to his chambers before Willem
reached his side.

  As was usually the case where the chancellor was concerned, luck was absent. The man moved quicker than a wraith.

  “Willem,” he nodded.

  “Mic—milord,” the man corrected smoothly.

  The slip hadn’t been a mistake. The chancellor never made mistakes. Though the man had professed great joy at Micah’s return from battle, Micah hadn’t believed it. He’d overheard too many bitter arguments between his father and Willem. The chancellor had insisted that neither son was fit to rule in the overlord’s stead. In fact, he’d assumed control of Maelgwn when Collin had vanished, insisting that Micah had been reported dead at the battle’s front line.

  The older man gripped Elizabeth’s chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “So this is our chosen vessel.”

  Micah’s hands fisted, but before he could respond, she shook her head from the other man’s grasp. Instead of the frightened expression Micah had expected to see, Elizabeth’s eyes had narrowed and her mouth opened. Before she had a chance to speak, he tugged her into the shelter of his body.

  “My vessel,” he snapped.

  The chancellor toyed with a lock of her hair, twining it around his finger.

  She tossed her head, tugging her hair from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

  Micah tightened his arm around Elizabeth in warning, but she continued to glare at the other man.

  Willem sputtered in outrage, but Micah ignored it. As soon as was feasible, he’d replace the man. Though the chancellor was sworn to serve the overlord of Maelgwn, Micah didn’t trust him. When his heir was secure, he’d appoint Asher to Willem’s position. Though Micah was the overlord by right of birth, he could still be replaced if he didn’t produce an heir in a reasonable amount of time. The conception of an heir would result in the complete transfer of power, and he’d be free to do what he would. Until then he was bound by his father’s regime. Micah and Willem stared at each other in strained silence, until Asher moved forward. “She must be prepared for the rite.”