Sunday Smooch - The Desert King's Captive Bride by Annie West

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!

Today we have a smooch from but first 


... the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is Michelann Oboyle.


Can you please contact stefanie(at)stefanie-london(dot)com to receive your copy of 'Taken by the CEO'.


And now for today's Sunday Smooch from Annie West's THE DESERT KING'S CAPTIVE BRIDE.

I was blackmailed into this marriage. I will not be blackmailed into bed.”  

Princess Ghizlan of Jeirut has returned home to find that warrior Sheikh Huseyn al Rasheed has seized her late father’s kingdom. With her sister held hostage, Ghizlan has no choice. Her barbarian captor is determined to tame her, rule her—and make her his own!

Forcing Ghizlan’s hand in marriage will not be enough to conquer her body and soul: Huseyn’s iron will is challenged at every step by her magnificent beauty and fierce pride. It won’t be long before they both fall prey to the firestorm between them…

Scene set-up

Princess Ghizlan returns home to Jeirut following the sudden death of her father, to discover herself under house arrest. The palace has been taken over by supporters of Huseyn al Rasheed, sheikh of one of the desert tribes, also known as the Iron Hand of Jumeah. Huseyn claims the throne and, to expedite his claim, he demands Ghizlan becomes his wife. But Ghizlan doesn't trust him or his claim that his actions are for the benefit of their people.

Smooch  -

'I’d simply never marry a man I despised on sight.’

‘Despised?’ His voice dropped to that bass rumble. Thunder to the lightning she’d seen a moment ago. She felt its vibration shimmer across her nipples and thighs.

‘Absolutely.’ Her chin notched even higher. Had he moved closer?

He had moved closer. She drew in that tangy scent of stable and man as he stepped in, toe to toe.

‘Then how do you explain this, my lady?’

Big, warm, implacable hands closed around her upper arms and his face lowered to hers.

Ghizlan whipped her head to one side but only succeeded in baring her cheek to this…this…bandit.

Whiskers brushed her in a totally unfamiliar caress, sending little shivers dancing across her skin. Warm lips, far softer than she’d imagined, nuzzled her cheek, stealing her breath.

She wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of revealing fear. Instead she stood ramrod straight. Frozen.

Yet it wasn’t fear she experienced as his lips moved in a tantalisingly slow trail up to her ear. Ghizlan blinked, surprised at the odd sensation of warmth curling in on itself deep in her belly.

This had gone on long enough.

She yanked her arms back, trying to break his hold, but it was like wrestling a boulder. A huge, warm boulder scented not just with the stables but with an enticing, unfamiliar tang that she suspected was essence of Huseyn al Rasheed.

Teeth nipped her earlobe and she jumped, horrified at the fiery trail zapping from the spot straight to her womb, as if he’d jerked a string and she, like a puppet, responded. Her nipples budded hard and achy against her bra. Did he feel that as his big body pressed against her?

‘Stop it, you lout!’

Hands braced on his chest, she leaned back, trying to escape, but he was taller and stronger. In one swift movement he clamped both her hands against that brawny, powerful chest. His other hand grabbed the back of her head, inexorably turning her face towards him.

Ghizlan saw a flash of smoky blue beneath straight dark brows, then his mouth was on hers.

Heat, power, the rich, zesty scent of male skin. The soft prickle of his whiskers against her flesh contrasted with the sheer force of his mouth grinding down on hers. It was a predictably ruthless assault on her senses by a man determined to dominate.

Fear filtered into her stunned brain. Until she realised, astonished, that despite the power in that massive, muscled body, he’d pulled back a fraction. Even as the thought formed, the pressure on her lips eased and his hand in her hair gentled, cradling and massaging.

Ghizlan stared, trying to focus on the blue of his eyes, but he was too close. He shifted his stance, drawing her lower body in against him until there was no mistaking the monumental evidence of his arousal.

She gasped, stunned, and too late realised her mistake. For Huseyn al Rasheed took the opportunity to invade her mouth.

Not to ravage this time but to seduce. His movements were sure but gentle as his tongue swiped hers, learning the feel and taste of her, just as she discovered he tasted like almonds and something else impossibly, horrifyingly delicious.

Her chest cramped as she realised she enjoyed the sensation of his tongue tangling with hers.

Foggily she fought the drugging pleasure of those slow, sure, sensual movements of lips and tongue, no longer forcing but inviting.

A shiver passed from the back of her skull where his fingers caressed her, down to her curling toes.

She’d been kissed before. Perfectly pleasant kisses from perfectly nice men. Sweet kisses, even eager kisses. But none like this. None that demanded so imperiously then gentled to seduce her into feelings that surely were more dangerous than anything else he could unleash on her.

His kiss invited her to relax and follow the unfamiliar lure of pleasure. To be selfish, just once. His hand cupping her head supported but also caressed, sending whorls of languid delight through her.

And his hard body against hers—that was a totally new, electrifying experience. Ghizlan had kissed, and dated while a student, but, ever conscious of the high expectations placed on her, and the possibility for scandal if caught out publicly in a love affair, she’d never progressed beyond that.

No man had ever made her feel this potent longing for more.

Ghizlan tried to be strong, tried not to respond. Until she heard, and tasted, Huseyn’s low humming growl of satisfaction. It was a sensual assault, as real as his hand in her hair or his tongue stroking hers. The way it vibrated through her, sparking an answering excitement, was unlike anything she’d known.

His kiss slowed, deepened, became positively languorous, and Ghizlan’s bones began to soften. Her hands twitched against that powerful chest and before she knew it they’d slid up, over hard shoulders to tangle in tousled locks, tunnelling and tugging then clamping tight on his skull.

She shifted, angling her mouth to kiss him back and losing her breath as his erection aligned provocatively against her.

Another growl from the back of his throat and he roped one muscled arm around her, lifting her against him so the contact became even more blatantly sexual.

And devastatingly delicious.

Ghizlan gasped, her mind, like her body, running on overdrive. One part of her was aware of curving in, inviting more of that heavy, outrageously improper contact. Another revelled in the strength of a man who could lift her with one arm as if she were made of gossamer. But mainly she was focused on the provocative, delicious kiss she didn’t want to end.

Except this was wrong. On so many levels she couldn’t begin to count them.

The part of her consciousness that had been trained from birth to focus on duty, to be a good example, to do the right thing always, suddenly burst awake and screamed in horror.

Ghizlan dropped her hands to his shoulders and shoved with all her might.

What temptation would you most like to give in to right now? I'd love to hear. Leave a comment to be in the draw to win a signed copy of THE DESERT KING'S CAPTIVE BRIDE. 

I'm including here a photo of the yummy UK cover of this book. The winner gets to choose which edition they'd like - North American, UK or Aus/NZ!

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and a smooch from Michelle Douglas will be posted!

Or if you can't wait to read CAPTIVE BRIDE you can order it from the usual places including
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
iBooks
Kobo
and Harlequin

Smooch Graphic by WebWeaver