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Authors: Gail Faulkner

BOOK: Ask For It
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“Nearrid does not pace. If he’s there, he’s stoically leaning against the opposite wall.” Tor leaned up on an elbow to take her mouth beneath his. Kissing Sahara was much more important than worrying about Nearrid’s whereabouts. Slowly releasing her lips, he gazed into sleepy eyes.

 

“We will be legally joined as soon as possible. Directly following that you’ll be crowned Queen of Leonor,” he told her. “Following that, the religious ritual of husband and wife naming. Is there some binding ceremony Mist Lions recognize?”

 

“You don’t think that’s enough?” Sahara asked.

 

“No. There will be no question in any culture. So? Is there?” His deep voice rumbled as he sank to her lips again. Licking kisses took some time.

 

“We already did it,” Sahara murmured into his mouth. “Heat is final.”

 

Leaning over her, his hand had to drift down her neck, firm fingers seeking the perfection of her breast. Petting one lazily, he watched his large paw move over smooth flesh. “That’s it?” he pressed her.

 

“There’s the Earth custom called a wedding. It involves costumes and a holy man. I don’t know much about it.” Sahara shifted so his hand moved to caress her other breast. “I know you’re done with love, but do you mind if I mention it once in a while?”

 

“You say whatever you want, woman. That’s part of the deal.” Tor dragged his eyes up to look at hers. “But the love business had better be about me. I’m the one embracing possessive selfishness. Keep that in mind.”

 

Laughing, Sahara pushed his shoulder lightly. Tor rolled on his back for her and lifted her on top of him when she indicated that’s where she wanted to be. The woman sort of snuggled into him, arranging herself comfortably across his body.

 

“I love you,” she said softly. “And I’m very tired. Just give me twenty minutes to nap and I’ll be fine.”

 

“You’ve decided to nap on top of me?” he chuckled.

 

“I’m a cat. Of course I’m napping on top of you,” she mumbled.

 

Tor sighed as her breathing immediately changed to sleep cadence. “If all I felt was love, life would be much easier, baby.”

 

 

 

About the Author

 

 

 

Hello everyone. If you’re reading this, I hope it means you’ve enjoyed reading one of my books. If you have some other opinion of them, feel free to lie to me anyway. I hereby absolve you from all possible guilt and consequences for flagrant, adjective, saturated lying to the author.

 

I’m a chronic fantasizer. Every good romance novel ended too soon. After a while, I started making up stories when I had a few minutes to while away. So now, instead of sitting around with a blank look on my face, I’ve taken to writing them down.

 

Because of my father’s job, we moved every three years in my early life. My first memories are of Bermuda, and then we were in several African countries. It was a wonderful childhood. I gained a rich cultural background in the world community, but never learned to spell. As an adult, I avoided writing at all costs, embarrassed over my limitations.

 

But the writer will not stay silent forever. She broke out, and insisted on learning the mystical world of grammar and spelling. Haven’t mastered all of it yet, but they let me write for you anyway. Bless every editor on the planet. They give dreamers a place to send fantasies and save us the embarrassment of owning our shortcomings.

 

 

 

Gail welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tell Us What You Think

 

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

 

Also by Gail Faulkner

 

 

 

Darius

 

Full Ride

 

Into His Keeping

 

Jamie’s Cherub

 

Romeo

 

Slip Knot

 

Stealing Carmen

 

Wanna Play

 

 

 

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

 

 

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

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