Page 46 of Sold to the Nalgar
There were no laws. No rights.
There was just him.
Zarokh.
On this world, he was all she knew.
Fear coiled tight in her chest, but beneath it was something darker.
The urge to surrender.
Because he was too much. Because her body didn’t know how to process this strange mix of tenderness and dominance.
This wasn’t her life anymore.
Here, there were no rules.
Only him.
He hovered over her, larger than any man she’d ever known—broad, bare-chested, grey skin gleaming like stone under low light.
He took her wrists, pinning them gently. His touch wasn’t cruel.
But it was absolute.
His crimson eyes burned into her.
And she had the terrifying feeling that he saw everything.
Learning her, he’d said.
What a joke.
He wasn’t learning her. He was claiming her.
No.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay still.
He didn’t know her.
He didn’t know the years she’d spent clawing her way through Manhattan law firms, the walls she’d built to be untouchable.
She wasn’t going to break. Not for his strength. Not for his beauty. Not for his alien heat above her.
He could take what he wanted. She couldn’t stop that.
But he would never have her.
Not where it mattered.
She stared back, eyes like stone. Let him try.
She would not lose herself to this creature.
Not to the warlord with crimson eyes and patient hands.
Even if his touch made her skin hum like it belonged to someone else.
