Authors: Mel Teshco
Lusting the Enemy
Akeisha is on a mission to be chosen as part of a harem for
the desert king, Judas. She’ll use her body to entice and beguile, do anything
it takes to save the near-extinct
larakytes
, her shape-shifting silver
panther tribe, from Judas’ human subjects, who are trying to eradicate them.
She never expects to succumb to the wild ecstasy in his
arms, a pleasure that threatens to expose her inner cat even as it transcends
anything she’s ever felt from one of her own kind.
Falling in love with a human enemy was never part of the
plan, but maybe there’s more to Judas than meets the eye.
Lusting the Enemy
Mel Teshco
Chapter One
Akeisha Turayne swiped the sheen of sweat from her brow,
wrinkling her nose at the stale, jasmine-perfumed oil that no longer masked the
sweat of too many women—forty-seven, to be exact—milling around the holding
ground of the royal palace as though cattle at auction.
The sun beat down, blazing hot and unmindful of her and the
women who wanted only to look their best, to look beautiful, delicate and
fresh-faced for their ruler, the great
Zaneean
king, Judas Mahskam.
Soon enough he’d cast his shrewd gaze upon them, each and
every one of whom hoped against hope to be the chosen one. Akeisha’s pulse
spiked. She forgot the heat, the sweat and the flies for just a moment as
delicious, nervous anticipation built within.
She’d been told many times in her twenty-one years she was
blessed with great beauty. And now…at last, she had the chance to use it to her
advantage, to play the genetic card she’d been dealt.
A breeze abruptly picked up, swirling rank body odors
through the air. And as a trio of trumpeters stepped up onto a podium and blew
out notes to herald the king’s arrival, she swiped a lock of long silver hair
from her eyes with unsteady hands.
Judas was finally here, ready to choose for his harem, if
any of the females were agreeable to him. A hush fell over the women, one or
two letting loose a nervous giggle as their king and potential lover stood on
the dais above.
Akeisha shivered, despite the heat. She’d seen him in many
paintings and drawings, but in person he was magnificent. Though not handsome
in the classic sense with his squared, jutting chin, his beaked nose and full,
almost feminine lips that seemed permanently pressed into a hard line, he oozed
charisma and power.
Raven dark hair brushed his shoulders, outlining his fierce
expression as his gaze took everything…everyone in. Tall and muscular, he was
even more imposing high above them.
An excitement and desperate need to be noticed, to be
selected, rippled through the women. For many, failing to meet their king’s
expectations today meant going back to a life of squalor. For Akeisha, it was
far worse.
She lifted her chin. She had no choice. She had to succeed.
The survival of her people depended on her.
Judas didn’t speak as his dark brown, almost black stare
rested on them one at a time. When his stare moved to Akeisha, she didn’t drop
her eyes in a show of subservience as the other women had done. She’d always
been headstrong, she could only hope he appreciated that trait.
If he chose her he wouldn’t be getting an obedient lapdog.
He’d be getting fire and passion right alongside a desperate solemnity from a
circumstance that even now sucked at her soul.
Her chin tilted higher as his stare abruptly dropped,
perusing her near naked body in its twin strips of diaphanous white cloth that
all the women had been forced to wear.
One horizontal strip barely covered her breasts, the cloth
ends tied at her back. The number nineteen had been painted in black across the
cloth along her breasts as her identity. A wider strip of cloth hung low on her
hips, draping just beneath her ass cheeks and the folds of her pussy.
The sweat had rendered the sheer garment completely
transparent and her breasts hardened beneath his scrutiny, her nipples
tightening into buds. Her cunt clenched, heat pulsing deep in her womb.
When he snared her gaze, his eyes flared, his expression
growing fierce as something all too primal sizzled between them.
She had his full attention now. She needed to keep it.
Her skin prickling with arousal, she held his burning stare
as she untied her top and let it flutter to the sandy ground. The silence was
almost deafening. Her hands trembled as she untied the knotted cloth ends at
her hips, and as the last piece of cloth tumbled to her bare feet, the women
around her hissed their outraged disbelief.
She ignored them, her focus all on the king.
Even from a distance she could see the wanton glow of his
eyes. Then his lips twisted in a fleeting grin before his stare moved onto the
next woman.
She’d lost him.
Damn it. Failure flooded through her. She had to be the
chosen one. She had to be the one to get under his skin, to make him desire her
like none other. There was no other way to be able to change his mindset on a
number of issues that affected a small population of people on the verge of
extinction. The
larakytes
. Outcasts. And the very last of the shape
shifter tribes.
Her people.
She’d not fail them a second time.
The king finished examining number forty-seven and stepped
back from the podium, his face inscrutable and hard. He turned to the captain
of his guard and conferred for a few moments.
The captain nodded and then stepped forward. “The king has
chosen.” He swept his hand toward the palace’s huge, lichen-covered rock wall,
where two slaves pulled open heavy double doors. “You may all wait inside.” He
cleared his throat, his narrowed, assessing eyes moving back to her. “Except
number nineteen.”
She stilled, then nodded acknowledgement. Her hands curled
into fists as exhilaration and fear clawed in her gut.
The captain pointed to a much smaller, single door farther
along, where a eunuch, distinguishable in his loincloth and pierced nipples,
stood guard. “Congratulations. You will enter the hallowed rooms of the king.
You will be prepared for his pleasure.”
Adrenaline pumped excitement and heat through her veins,
even as she almost swooned with relief.
She didn’t bother retrieving the pieces of cloth underfoot,
didn’t bother turning to the couple of women bold enough to mutter their
jealous venom. She inwardly shrugged. She’d made some enemies for life by
disrobing for the king. In many of the women’s eyes, she’d cheated. In her mind
she’d used her brain, showing off an apparently near perfect body that, in her
short lifetime, had attracted more than her fair share of advances.
Now at last her physicality was an asset—a godsend instead
of a curse—to be flaunted for a greater purpose.
The eunuch’s forearms bulged with muscle as he straightened
his heavy, poison-tipped spear and stepped aside. But she was aware of his
approving stare as she crossed the threshold and entered the most exquisite
room she’d ever seen.
White pillars soared upward into a domed glass ceiling. Silk
hangings softened the stone walls, where the naked flames of wall sconces
flickered dimly. Huge oil paintings in gold-leaf frames showed hunting scenes
in different seasons, for even the desert kingdom where Judas reigned supreme
had its different times of year.
On the marble floor, huge rugs in vibrant colors set off the
dozen or more red velvet chairs with turned legs scattered throughout the room.
On circular rosewood tables, crystal vases overflowed with rare crimson roses
and white baby’s breath.
A rustle of fabric had her spin around to face a
middle-aged, slender woman approaching through a side door. The elder woman’s
expression was neutral, as understated as her long brunette hair that was
peppered with silver and pulled back into a tight coil. Her cool blue stare
brushed over Akeisha’s nakedness without comment. She nodded in greeting and
said brusquely, “My name is Fontaine. You will follow me.”
They passed statues and long sofas. Big arched windows
overlooked green, manicured gardens that fought off the barren landscape beyond
a great wall of rock, where snowy-white sand shimmered as far as the eye could
see before merging into faraway crested dunes.
Her gaze lingered. Far beyond that, invisible to human eyes
or otherwise, the
Scantia
forest, rumored to be haunted according to the
superstitious people of Judas’ kingdom, kept her people safe.
Until recently.
Though outside it was desert hot, inside the palace a chill
settled over her as though an invisible fog. She tore her gaze away from the
windows and rubbed some warmth into her bare arms as she followed Fontaine into
a small, cozy room where hundreds of candles blazed brightly.
Three female
cotesh—
unmistakably servants to the king
by their long, white-and-gold
tuktuk
robes tied just above their
breasts—waited expectantly. They moved forward with clucking tongues and
critical, appraising eyes.
“I will leave you now,” Fontaine addressed, voice carefully
bland, “and return once you’re suitably prepared for the king. Then I will show
you to the
mandeolo.”
Shock jolted down her spine as reality fully hit. The
mandeolo
was the bedroom of the king. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Hard. Soon
she’d be seduced by the great Judas himself. Soon her plan to save her people
would begin.
Her eyelids flicked apart at the sound of one of the
cotesh
servants unknotting her
tuktuk.
Akeisha couldn’t help but stare at the
older woman’s hairless body and taut, muscular build. For a human, the woman
was amazingly buff and unselfconscious.
She’d heard the king surrounded himself only with servants
who could fight and protect the court, and it appeared the gossip was true.
Weak subjects weren’t tolerated in the palace unless they had other uses—such
as healing hands or educators of the mind.
Little wonder Judas was such a respected and powerful
leader.
The servant took her hand and led her into the warm pool.
Akeisha quickly surrendered to the woman’s deft hands as she began to wash her
hair and lather soap into her skin. She closed her eyes, trying not to think
about what was ahead with Judas, but her pulse jerked erratically, her throat
drying.
The king was renowned for his sexual appetites. And as she
alone had been chosen, he’d soon be directing his lustful needs all her way.
What, you’d prefer to be shared with other women?
She’d heard the rumors. Well, not rumors per se. A king was
expected to fuck whoever took his fancy and Judas was legendary for his
insatiable appetites. He apparently often took as many as five or six women in
one night. And why wouldn’t he? If a maiden was lucky enough to feel even one
stroke of his cock, she was considered very blessed indeed.
Akeisha wondered what the king would say if he knew she had
far bigger plans in mind than becoming his next temporary mistress, let alone
being one of many.
One of the other
cotesh
women stood on the pool’s top
step and held a towel aloft, motioning for Akeisha to wade from the water.
Stepping out, she obediently lifted her arms as the woman rubbed her briskly,
paying particular attention to her breasts, the fine fuzz of hair on her pussy.
As the woman slid the thick, silken towel between her pussy
lips, Akeisha let out an unsteady breath, clenching her jaw and cutting off a
throaty cat growl forming at the base of her throat.
Despite her formidable will, over-stimulation could well set
off an involuntary part-shift. Keeping her inner beast at bay and her secret
safe was vital if she wanted to stay alive. She closed her eyes. It was more
than just her life at stake now.
She was next directed to lie on a fur on the floor and she
nodded consent, doing as they asked. She lay back and tried to relax. The next
few hours the discomfort from the waxing and plucking of her body would rebuff
any further arousal.
Thank god.
Because soon she’d be thoroughly seduced by Judas and she’d
need every ounce of her strength of will to keep her inner, big cat at bay.
A shiver raced up and down her spine, anxiety and lust in
equal measure. To be taken by the king—the concept was almost too incredible to
be believed. He was unarguably the finest leader of all time, a warrior and an
intellect all in one, tough but just in his rulings.
Most of his rulings.
* * * * *
Judas stepped into his private
mandeolo
quarters he’d
ordered prepared. He barely noticed the hundreds of magnolia-scented candles
glowing in the darkened room, where thick drapes had been pulled over the
windows. Barely heard the discreet throb of a stringed
jae
and the
accompanying beat of a
pak pak
from the room next door.
Music intended for seduction.
It was an unnecessary touch. He was already all too
conscious of the fire burning hot in his loins, the aching heaviness of his
balls. The damn
rakkia
robe that flowed from one shoulder and fell to mid-thigh
did little to hide his arousal. His cinched belt, with the sheathed sword
jostling on one hip and the double fighting rods on the other, served only to
draw focus to his cock that had taken on a mind all of its own.
Damn. What had that chit done to him? Even the gold links on
his forearms felt overly tight, his entire body taut with need.
But then, he’d never expected to find a girl even halfway as
beautiful as the silver-blonde siren staring up at him amongst the chattel in
the holding yard—let alone one with her kind of surreal magnificence that
bespoke of the shape-shifting blood running through her veins.
The way she’d held his stare and challenged him had stirred
something deep within even before she’d disrobed and bared her amazing body.
And he’d known well before he’d forced his gaze to the other women that he
wanted her and only her. Wanted to duel with her, tame the wildness
within…well, just a little.
He’d had more than enough of subservient women.
His cock jerked. Christ. If he were truly honest it had
become imperative that he fuck her, to fill her cunt with the full, hard length
of his shaft as she begged him for release.
But as king he’d first had to take care of the trivial,
mind-numbing matters that were his lot in life as king, all of which had taken
far too many hours. Hours in which his every thought had centered on the
she-cat masquerading as a pure-blooded human, and who waited for him even now.