CALLEY (RIBUS 7 Book 3) Read Online Free
Author: Shae Mills
her chest heaving. Suddenly, the possibility hit her. She had been delivered from loneliness by Shan, why not by Fremma? She licked her dry lips, her eyes scrutinizing his handsome face. “I… I don’t know. I…”
Fremma released her hands and immediately wedged his body between her legs. Chelan gasped, her fingers ensnared in his beautiful mane, her mind entangled in itself. Then she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as she felt him penetrate her creamy tightness once again. She arched and groaned. He knew her so well, he pleased her beyond all expectations, and he was so gentle. It would be so easy to let him fill her with his maleness, his essence spilling into her and satiating the void within her heart. But finally, she pushed gently against him. “No,” she whispered unconvincingly.
Fremma looked down at her. “Please, Chelan. You are in estrous. I can sense your receptiveness. Do not deny me, or yourself.”
Chelan looked over his flawless skin, his bronze flesh coated with the sweat of passion. And her mind raced. Then his hand joined his manhood, stroking her expertly while chipping at her defenses.
“Let me come inside you, pretty woman. Our baby will be beautiful.”
Chelan finally cried out, “No!” And he stopped. Her fists clenched as her thoughts pinwheeled. “I am so confused,” she uttered.
Fremma slipped out of her and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her, her soft powdery skin, her small body trembling with so much sorrow. Suddenly, he grabbed her up and pressed her to him. “Tomorrow we occupy the Palace.” He raised her chin, forcing her to look at him, his voice low and commanding. “When you are with him in his domain, remember our love first and what I have offered. Then talk to him. Force him to choose. You are receptive now, Chelan. If he does not capitulate, remember that his damnable mission is nearly a year in length, an Iceanean year.” He watched as she recoiled from the pain and the loneliness that threatened, but he remained firm. “And if you do not talk to him, I will.”
Chelan’s glassy eyes searched his. “I will talk to him, my gentle Fremma. But no matter what our choice, please do not recede from me.”
Fremma mellowed. He squeezed her tight and drew her down to the bed with him. “I will never abandon you, Chelan. Many years ago I told you I would take you any time to the exclusion of all others, and I have abided by that. I will never turn you away, pretty woman. But it tears my heart from my chest to see you so pained. Why can Korba not see you as I do?”
Chelan sighed. “He does, Fremma. He merely seeks a perfect time to be with me while failing to see through all his optimism to the unshakable truth: there is no perfect time.”
Fremma smiled at her as he looked over her sensuous body. He thought of his child within her and a tremor ran through him. She was right. Korba was well aware of the treasure he possessed. The man was simply besieged by a colossal workload, his dedication to both his new role in the Empire and his obsession with tackling the most volatile of battles robbing him of precious time with his lady. Korba had always been the master of precision and perfection. And until the Empire settled under his hand, he would remain completely unwilling to compromise Chelan with a pregnancy. He was waiting for the perfect time… gambling that that time would indeed present itself.
Chelan’s fingertips on his cheek drew Fremma out of his thoughts. “Fremma,” she called softly. “Please don’t misunderstand. If all does not work out soon…”—she sucked in a deep breath, her heart swelling—“I will be more than willing to accept you. I would love to have your child. But I must work through this with Korba first.”
“I know. But if at any time over the coming years all seems lost with Korba, I want you to promise me that you will send for me.”
“Send for you?”
Fremma smiled at her innocence. “Chelan, you
Fremma released her hands and immediately wedged his body between her legs. Chelan gasped, her fingers ensnared in his beautiful mane, her mind entangled in itself. Then she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as she felt him penetrate her creamy tightness once again. She arched and groaned. He knew her so well, he pleased her beyond all expectations, and he was so gentle. It would be so easy to let him fill her with his maleness, his essence spilling into her and satiating the void within her heart. But finally, she pushed gently against him. “No,” she whispered unconvincingly.
Fremma looked down at her. “Please, Chelan. You are in estrous. I can sense your receptiveness. Do not deny me, or yourself.”
Chelan looked over his flawless skin, his bronze flesh coated with the sweat of passion. And her mind raced. Then his hand joined his manhood, stroking her expertly while chipping at her defenses.
“Let me come inside you, pretty woman. Our baby will be beautiful.”
Chelan finally cried out, “No!” And he stopped. Her fists clenched as her thoughts pinwheeled. “I am so confused,” she uttered.
Fremma slipped out of her and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her, her soft powdery skin, her small body trembling with so much sorrow. Suddenly, he grabbed her up and pressed her to him. “Tomorrow we occupy the Palace.” He raised her chin, forcing her to look at him, his voice low and commanding. “When you are with him in his domain, remember our love first and what I have offered. Then talk to him. Force him to choose. You are receptive now, Chelan. If he does not capitulate, remember that his damnable mission is nearly a year in length, an Iceanean year.” He watched as she recoiled from the pain and the loneliness that threatened, but he remained firm. “And if you do not talk to him, I will.”
Chelan’s glassy eyes searched his. “I will talk to him, my gentle Fremma. But no matter what our choice, please do not recede from me.”
Fremma mellowed. He squeezed her tight and drew her down to the bed with him. “I will never abandon you, Chelan. Many years ago I told you I would take you any time to the exclusion of all others, and I have abided by that. I will never turn you away, pretty woman. But it tears my heart from my chest to see you so pained. Why can Korba not see you as I do?”
Chelan sighed. “He does, Fremma. He merely seeks a perfect time to be with me while failing to see through all his optimism to the unshakable truth: there is no perfect time.”
Fremma smiled at her as he looked over her sensuous body. He thought of his child within her and a tremor ran through him. She was right. Korba was well aware of the treasure he possessed. The man was simply besieged by a colossal workload, his dedication to both his new role in the Empire and his obsession with tackling the most volatile of battles robbing him of precious time with his lady. Korba had always been the master of precision and perfection. And until the Empire settled under his hand, he would remain completely unwilling to compromise Chelan with a pregnancy. He was waiting for the perfect time… gambling that that time would indeed present itself.
Chelan’s fingertips on his cheek drew Fremma out of his thoughts. “Fremma,” she called softly. “Please don’t misunderstand. If all does not work out soon…”—she sucked in a deep breath, her heart swelling—“I will be more than willing to accept you. I would love to have your child. But I must work through this with Korba first.”
“I know. But if at any time over the coming years all seems lost with Korba, I want you to promise me that you will send for me.”
“Send for you?”
Fremma smiled at her innocence. “Chelan, you
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