Prince of Forever – Imperia Read online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Fantasy, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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Prince of Forever - Imperia

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Gena Showalter

Language:
English
Book Information:

Return to Imperia in this scorching, significantly updated classic from New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter, originally published as The Pleasure Slave.

Curiously drawn to a battered jewelry box, Santa Fe antique dealer Julia Anderson could never have anticipated what—or rather who—it held inside—a handsome warrior who swears his devotion to her. Tall and sinfully handsome, Tristan ar Malik is hard to resist and determined to fulfill her every desire.

A rogue on the battlefield and the bedroom, Tristan resolved himself to a life of servitude after being cursed…. until he met Julia. The passion between them is unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and he only wants more. Yet even though revealing his true heart would break the centuries-old spell that entrapped him—freeing him from the box—it would separate them forever…
Books by Author:

Gena Showalter



PROLOGUE

Imperia

The Fifth Season

“I WANT YOU AGAIN, Tristan.”

I always want him, the need never ceasing.

Waves crashed against the cliffs outside the bedroom, creating a lulling rhythm that floated upon sea-kissed beams of moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows. The sweet scent of gartina and elsment teased her nose, a palpable omen of magic few could comprehend or even acknowledge.

Naked, Zirra leaned against the window frame. The exact spot her lover had taken her less than an hour ago.

When he failed to respond to her words, she arched her back and skimmed a hand down the flat plane of her stomach, hoping to entice him visually.

Still no response.

“Tristan?” She glanced over her shoulder at the male who had pursued her relentlessly for the past two weeks, winning her heart.

He sat at the edge of the bed. He’d already donned a pair of black drocs, the kind warriors wore into battle. The darkness of his hair hung in wild disarray over his muscular shoulders as he fastened a pair of combat boots on his feet and eyed her with amusement. “You know I must go, nixa.”

Nixa. An endearment she cherished. It meant “irresistible lover.”

So why was he resisting her charms? “Why must you go?” She had him once, only once, but she needed more. Annoyed, Zirra abandoned her pose of relaxed beckoning and stalked to the bed. She didn’t bother to cover herself with the silky white sheet, but left the plump mounds of her breasts bared for his view. “And why do you deny me the pleasure of your touch?”

He closed the distance between them, took her hand, and drew her to the bed, where they both sat. Had she ever seen a more beautiful male? Long, dark hair…lavender eyes framed by lengthy black lashes…a face so perfect it sometimes hurt to gaze upon him.

He ran a tongue over his straight white teeth. “I must journey to the palace for instruction from my Great Lord. A rebellion brews in Gillirad.”

“But I—”

“I cannot disobey a direct command from my sovereign. This you know.”

Her brow knit in annoyance. Tristan acted as if her nakedness no longer tempted him in any way.

Mayhap it didn’t. Mayhap he referred to every woman as nixa.

Tendrils of fury danced along her spine. Earlier she had kissed and licked a path down his entire body, had taken him deep into her mouth as she’d never done for another man. When she had finished, he’d slid himself inside her, pumping and grinding erotically, giving her a rapture so complete she had begged for mercy. Yet she thought she remembered peering at him as he seemed to fight a…yawn. Yes! That’s right.

Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened, and her long oval nails dug into her palms, cutting deeply into the skin. She had given Tristan everything she had to give, and yet she, a revered priestess of the Druinn with powerful magic beyond imagining, had failed to truly satisfy him. And because of her failure, she might soon be discarded like a worthless piece of garbage.

“Will you return to me?” she grated.

“I will…not. I’m afraid our time together has come to an end.”

Rage ignited deep in her chest. Irresistible lover? Hardly. He’d had her, and he was done with her.

The urge to hurt Tristan, to destroy him in some way, coursed through her. He’d addicted her to his touch and now planned to abandon her, leaving her alone in the vast emptiness of her bed, desperate for more of him. Dying for more of him.

He must suffer as I suffer. And yet…

Her need for his affection proved a vehement demand she could not ignore, and she found herself reaching out, gripping his well-defined forearm. Even now, his features drew tight with annoyance. He exuded the sensual eroticism of a man who existed only to pleasure his woman. She wanted, needed, to be the one who obtained his eternal devotion. Mayhap then the constant ache in her heart would be filled.

“We belong together,” she said, her words emerging on an ethereal wisp of breath. “Life-join with me and I will give you more than any other woman is capable of giving.”

He did not even pause. “I’m sorry, but nay.”

“Treasures. I will give you treasures beyond your wildest dreams.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her long black hair over one shoulder. “If you so desire, I’ll create a planet of your own to rule.”

“Zirra,” Tristan chided softly as he lounged across the mattress and propped his weight on his elbow. “Best you recall my words before I ever entered this room.”

“You told me you wanted me more than anything.”

“Aye. I did.”

Did?

“But I also told you I could not commit to you,” he continued.

“I remember,” she admitted through clenched teeth. But she hadn’t let it stop her from having him. She’d been so certain he would change his mind. Of course, she’d been blinded by Tristan’s male perfection at the time. The way his pale violet eyes had promised untold passion. The way his hard, muscled body had moved with sinewy grace.

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