Prince of Flight by Mandy M. Roth

breast. Her nipples tightened to diamond-like points and she shook with wanton desire for him. She’d managed to control her attraction to him for nearly a month. Why was she suddenly having issues?
    Stop touching him.
    Hell, stop being touched by him.
    Her body ignored her mind’s ravings. It wanted him to touch her more intimately and it wanted less clothing between them. She writhed against his form, the feel of his erection digging at her backside. A growl of masculine triumph came from him and she bent her head awkwardly, unconcerned with how uncomfortable the action was.  
    His lips grazed hers and fire shot through her body, giving her the answers she’d sought. The reason why she was having such a hard time resisting him all of a sudden. As her gaze eased over his lips, it all became crystal clear. They’d kissed and it had apparently weakened her resolve to him. For some reason, the action had left her a mind-numbed sex addict with a singular focus.
    Him.
    “Keonae?” asked Sachin, his voice off. “Is all well?”
    Keonae jerked her tighter against his frame. “She is trying to make me believe so, yet I felt her pain, old friend. I felt her fear as if it were my own.”
    Lark tried to focus on what he was saying, but she couldn’t, not with him touching her. Stirrings of lust guided her actions as she continued to rub her body against his. It was animalistic and she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She laid her head back against him, noticing how perfectly they fit together. It was as if they were made for one another.
    He jerked her tight to him, his hips thrusting against her backside, leaving no room for doubt. He was as turned on as she was. And nothing on the man was small by anyone’s standards.
    She gulped.
    He growled again, nipping at her ear. “I want to be in you, ta’konima .”  
    The men all sounded shocked by whatever Keonae had just said to her. She was too caught up in the lust to pay it much mind.
    “Oh shit,” said Rossi, his voice barely there. “This is big. What do we do?”
    “For now, assure he does not do anything foolish,” said Lazar. “He is still being driven by testosterone from the human boys threatening her. In this state, he could cause her harm without meaning to.”
    “I vote you grab him,” said Rossi, a note of concern in his voice. “I like my body parts attached.”
    “Ever the brave one,” said Lazar mockingly.
    Sachin stepped closer and Lark became vaguely aware that Lazar and Rossi were on the other side, as if they were all flanking Keonae, preparing to do battle of some sort.
    Sachin lifted his hands. “Keonae, look at me. I believe mating heat as well as warrior ways of old have you in their grasp.”
    “This is not good,” said Rossi, clucking his tongue. “Not good at all.”
    “Give her to me slowly,” pressed Sachin, his hands up. “We only wish to see to her safety.”
    Keonae growled and she understood the warning he was giving his friends. If they tried to take her from him, he’d react with violence. He’d already shown her there was far more to him than she’d thought. Her mild-mannered biker had a temper and the juice to back it up. There had been enough violence already. No more needed to occur. Not over her.
    She turned in his arms, his hand twisting her t-shirt as she went. She touched the sides of his face. “Keonae?”
    He trembled under her touch. “Who threatened you, ta’konima ?”
    “Ta whata?” she questioned, unable to look away from his penetrating gaze.
    “I stand by my first oh shit,” said Rossi.
    “Now who sounds local?” asked Sachin.
    Rossi grunted. “Is she his ?”
    Lazar stepped closer, lifting his hands in a sign he meant no harm. “I would say so, yes.”
    Keonae squeezed her tighter to him.
    She gasped. He was hurting her, but he shouldn’t have been able to. She wasn’t like other women. No. Far from it. “Stop coming closer. You’re making him worse.”
    The men froze.
    “Keonae,