Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) by Elizabeth Rose Page A

of dominance. If she challenged him by demanding he leave, he would most likely send her back to the dungeon to prove his power, and she would never feel the hot water on her aching muscles. Having given birth recently, she longed to replenish her energy. The pain wore on her now, as the ride upon the horse had been very jolting. She had never felt more exhausted.
    She looked over to the tub, steaming with the fulfilling promise of a relaxing bath to aid her hurts. Then she looked back to Zarek and wanted to slap the smile right off his face. He knew had badly she wanted this, yet he still challenged her to back down. Nay. She would not surrender her wants because of his absurd game.
    “I do not like a man who assumes he can take my bath away from me.” She undid the lacing on her bodice, and drew it up and over her head. She met his challenge, dangling it from her finger and then carelessly dropping it at his feet. His eyes opened wide, and settled upon her bare breasts. She had regained control.
    “You are welcome to the tub,” he told her. “But I will be in it as well.” He undid the knot at his waist and let his breeches fall to the rushes on the floor. He gingerly stepped out of them, leaving him totally naked.
    Lysandra couldn’t help but let her eyes fall past his waist. His desire to couple with her was strong, and he did naught to hide it. The firelight flickered over his bare, bronzed skin and she had the overwhelming urge to run her fingers over every bit of his body. She reached down and pulled off her skirt, then kicked the worn goatskin boots from her feet.
    “Fine,” she said. “But if you so much as lay a finger on me I’ll - ”
    His lips caressed hers before she could finish. His hands were around her waist, pulling their naked bodies together. His chest pushed up against hers, and she found herself liking it. She wrapped her hands around his neck and gripped his long hair.
    His tongue entered her mouth, warming her down to her toes. Thoughts of the night they’d coupled ran rampant through her mind. The ecstasy she’d felt as their bodies joined and she shattered in his arms was calling to her, making her want to do it all again.
    He swept her off her feet and carried her to the tub, all the while her heart pounding in trepidation. He lowered her into the water slowly, his mouth still pressed against hers in a torrent of unbridled passion. He eagerly kissed and bit at her lip and she did the same in return. Aggressor to aggressor, they gripped each other’s hair, tongues dueling in a sparring act of persuasive surrender within their mouths. Then in a desperate act to regain her breath, Lysandra pulled away. Zarek frowned.
    “I am king and will be the one to make the advances,” he said. “Your warrior personality would be better to stay outside my bedchamber.”
    “As long as my son is here, this is my bedchamber as well.”
    She took the soap from the dish and started scrubbing her body furiously. Even in the midst of a romantic moment he saw to remind her of whom he was. She lathered her arms and neck and then ran the soap over her breasts. It wasn’t until she noticed a slight groan on his part that she knew he was squirming below the water. Using his arousal to her advantage, she seductively rubbed her upper torso.
    “I want you,” he said in a sultry whisper.
    Lysandra smiled to herself. He wasn’t as powerful as he claimed, and now she knew his weakness.
    “You lust for me,” she corrected him. “Admit it.”
    “Aye,” he said, moving closer. “I cannot stop thinking of the night we coupled. I want to do it again.”
    She should have stopped taunting him, but didn’t. She put down the soap and splashed water over her body, then dipped under the water to wash her hair. When she emerged, he was on his knees, moving toward her. She quickly stood, meaning to leave the tub, but he pulled her down atop his lap. His desire for her had grown, and so had his impatience.
    “Couple