Page 11 of The Arabis Triad

And boy, did he have an expanse of skin. Taut, silky skin that covered hard muscle. He wasn’t just ripped, he waschiseled. His biceps were as thick as her thigh and five times as sculpted. Even crouched, as they all were, he was a good head taller than the others.

Boy-band had classic good looks with a flipped-over fringe that kissed bushy brows. His lush lips threatened to break out in a smile at any moment, the fine lines that fanned from the edges of his eyes testament to that. The day’s worth of stubble along his defined jawline only served to accentuate how handsome he was.

Even Man-bun was hot in that striking, intense ultra-predator kind of way, despite a look that might grace a New York catwalk.

All of the men were huge. All had massively defined muscles. She had to admit, they were extremely hot, and not a stuck-in-the-middle-of-a-tropical-jungle type of way.

Her gaze trailed upwards, and she swallowed heavily. Matte black horns curved from their foreheads. Man-bun’s horns arched from his temple to disappear into his hair. Tattman’s were tipped at the sharp ends, and Boy-band’s twisted before they reached upwards toward the back of his head.

Horns and tatts and good looks aside, they were also half-naked. Apart from bands of leather thrown sideways across the expanses of their chests, where various weapons were attached, they only wore tight leathers that did nothing to hide impressive bulges and thick thighs.

“Why are you all so super-hot?”And why was she even thinking about their sexiness?

Despite being on the verge of exhaustion and a well-deserved breakdown, she warmed as liquid heat swirled low in her belly, an erotic image flashing in her mind of all three of them kissing her. All together. At once. In a way that she not only returned, but demanded.

She inhaled once. Twice. She didn’t seem to be able to get enough air. The breath left her body in a rush as every muscle tensed. She blinked rapidly, desperately trying to will the black dots away.

She wasn’tgoing tohave a breakdown. She washaving one. Her body took it out of her hands. She sagged sideways as blood rushed in her ears. She was swamped with lightheadedness as her stomach punched with a swell of nausea.

God, oh god, oh god. She was going to faint.

There was a masculine roar and strong arms wrapped beneath her knees and shoulders. She was lifted up a great height as though she weighed no more than air and embraced into the security of a solid chest. A spice of earth and pine filled her senses. She pressed her nose into his skin and breathed in deeply. His scent helped to clear her mind a little.

Man-bun’s eyes penetrated the fog rushing into her vision. There was a deep rumble that she belatedly realized was him speaking and then they were marching through the jungle.

“Don’t put me back in that coffin thing. I won’t be caged again.” She clutched one of leather straps on his chest, ignoring the wicked-looking silver projectiles that were encased across it.

Her voice sounded pathetically wobbly. How woeful. The tough-assed investigative journalist was well and truly cowed at the moment. She didn’t even have it in her to scratch the surface to find that part of her that once defined her. She was too far gone for that anymore.

Man-bun frowned. His eyes burned liquid pools of black. Something like distress entered his gaze and he murmured words that, although she couldn’t understand them, still soothed her.

To her surprise, he bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering. A sense of curious calm washed through her. His lips were soft, cushioned against her skin. He withdrew to nuzzle her hair with his nose. He breathed in long and deep, as though savoring that light touch.

She wrinkled her nose. All she could think about was that she hadn’t had a bath for a long, long time and conditions in those cages didn’t bear remembering, but then all thought fled when he tucked her more securely against his chest, bringing her closer to him. A tremor ran though his arms. He could crush her without too much thought, yet he held her so gently, so tenderly, she knew he never would.

He was the one that had rescued her from the Reptile cage. She was vulnerable, near naked, and all he’d done, all they’d done, was do their best to pacify her like one would a wild colt.

Being cradled in his arms, she might think they really did mean her no harm. What was confusing, though, was that kiss. It was as though she meant something to him, and there was a faint reflective call within herself.

She reached up, moving slowly and not quite understanding why, and cupped his jaw. His beard was so soft, she barely felt the short hairs against her palm. She registered that he’d stopped walking, his whole attention riveted on her.

She moved her thumb against his whiskers. They were slightly darker than his hair. Wisps had escaped the knot, and stuck to the perspiration on his forehead. A golden tone burnished his skin, as though he’d been tanned by the rays from the sun. His face was symmetrical. Handsome. Desperately attractive. But even more than that, she felt an edge to him that came out in the slight furrow between his brows, the lines at the edges of his eyes, and the brackets at the corners of his mouth.

A slight scar ran along the left side of his face near his hairline that looked as natural as the features on his face. It was the sternness he radiated—strength, masculine power—that made something languid unfurl in the pit of her stomach. She knew in a flash of disbelief that she was attracted to him. Despite her circumstances, despiteeverything, she was attracted.

A wild cackle nearly broke from her, but she stuffed it way back down.

The heat in his dark eyes sizzled. She traced his bottom lip with the pad of her thumb. It was pillowed, yielding slightly with her touch. She dabbed her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, wondering what they’d feel like pressed in her mouth just as he’d kissed her forehead. Would he linger on her lips?

“I’m going crazy, but you don’t know how much I want you to kiss me right now,” she murmured, the words tumbling unbidden from her.

He gave a self-satisfied masculine growl before his head descended and his mouth found hers. He brushed his lips against hers. The tip of his tongue traced along the seam of her lips before his mouth crashed against hers.

She vaguely thought that yes, they were as soft as she’d thought they’d be before she was swept away with the experience of his kiss. His mouth molded to hers, his lips caressing, suckling, massaging until his tongue swept into her mouth in an indolent sweep.

His flavor exploded in her mouth. Indefinable. An aphrodisiac that sent a wave of sparks shooting through her body to the tips of her toes. She moaned into his mouth when his tongue brushed against hers in a slow, unhurried sweep. He pulled back and there was a moment when she wasn’t aware of anything except her slowly cooling lips.

His intelligent eyes peered down at her. His mouth was glossed with their kiss and a satisfied smirk lingered on those plump lips.

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