The Princess

“Unhand me," she hissed in her most imperial voice—well, whisper. “I'll have your head for touching me like this.”

“And I, Princess, will have you. Just like this.”

As much as she wanted to argue, to fight, another stronger hand cupping her breast over her gown stopped the complaint from escaping. It wasn't the grope of an untrained oaf. The hand closed around her nipple without touching the nub, gently massaging all around it. Her breast tightened, her nipple puckering in anticipation of a caress that didn't come. Mia gasped, attempting to pull away.

“I don’t think so,” a gruff voice laughed into her ear. The body pressed against her back was so much larger than her own, and she was tall. The impressive erection against her lower back stirred her already burgeoning desires.

What was this? How could some stranger inspire such feelings in a royal? She was no commoner to be impressed over brute force. And yet, as the masterful hand closed in on her nipple, finally adding pressure to the place all her nerve endings seemed to have felt, Mia let out a low groan, allowing her body to melt just a little against the solid frame behind her.

“Mmmm, sensitive, aren’t we?” Stars, how she wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. Before she could think of anything witty, he backed her away from the corridor and into the hangar.

Throwing a cloth sack over her head, he tossed her over his shoulder and took off at a dead run. Mia sucked in a breath to scream, but a hard swat to her ass stopped her. She let her breath out in a whoosh, too startled to actually make a sound. His warning growl made her think better of trying again.

Somewhere in the back off her mind, she knew she had precious little time to get away. If he got her into his ship and into space, there was no going back. Whoever this man was, he was playing for keeps. No one would kidnap the princess with the intention of letting her go. With a burst of desperation, Mia struggled wildly. Unfortunately, it was too little too late. He tossed her down with a thud, and she heard a door close with a bang. Fury and terror consuming her, Mia shrieked as she pulled off the sack and got the first look at her captor.

The breath left her body in a rush, and she felt the color drain from her face. Standing before her in the rock-hard flesh was King Baran, leader of a planet so barbaric, no one in the civilized galaxy went near it. Their king rarely left their homeworld. Most thought he believed outsiders were beneath him, but her father said he stayed so no tribal king made a try for the throne in his absence. His was a race of warriors, the fiercest in the galaxy. Many sought them out as mercenaries, but they only gave their allegiance where this man directed.

"You're mine, Princess," he smirked. "Before we get to Midgard, you'll understand exactly what that means."