Want had everything to do with it. Wanting her was dangerous. Wanting her was also all I could focus on. Her softness, the velvet silkiness of her skin as my fingers glided up her spine.
Those legs I wanted to bury my face between.
“All that bragging, Rykr. Are you a tease, after all?”
“Fuck, solwyn.” Pushing my hand up to the nape of her neck, I drew her head back and searched the deep pools of her eyes.
Our mouths were a whisper apart, all rational thought now gone.
Then she wet her lips with that tongue, waiting.
My mouth descended on hers as I forced myself to be slow. Gentle. Even as hunger roared inside me, demanding more. Demanding I shove her up against the wall, push her pants off her hips and take her hot and fast, right now. She tasted like salt and sweet ale—something forbidden. Something I would fucking die for.
But I can have control.
Her full lips melted against mine, a sizzling heat breaking through the surface of my skin, my want for her intensifying to an inferno.
Not want. Need.
I fucking need this woman.
I angled her head, holding myself steady as she leaned her weight farther into me. Her lips parted and my mouth slanted over hers, my tongue seeking hers in soft strokes. Her body yielded, fitting against me in a way that felt inevitable.
My mouth worked over hers, my hand slipping around her waist, and moving up until I palmed one perfect, full breast?—
A knock rattled the door. “Seren?”
Amahle.
Seren tore away from me, her fingers brushing her lips as if she could erase what had just happened. She turned, moving past me without another glance.
“Wait.” I grabbed one of her blades.
Seren gave me a baffled look as I sidled up to the doorframe, back against the wall.
“If the barmaid was spying, someone might be waiting to take us. We can’t take chances.”
Seren paled, then cracked the door open. “Hey,” she said, her voice overly bright. Her posture relaxed. “Just her.”
My grip loosened, then I crossed toward the bed, removing the leather kilt above my trousers.
Amahle’s voice was softer than usual. “You all right? I’m sorry about Ciaran bringing up Esme.”
“It’s fine.” Seren gathered her hair over one shoulder. “It’s just been a long day. I think I’m going to bathe and then go to bed.”
Over my shoulder, I flicked a glance at Amahle, who studied me with that keen gaze of hers—like she saw too much but chose to say little.
“I’m right across the hall if you need anything. Ciaran’s room is next to yours, but you might want to keep it down.” Amahle met my eyes. “For his sake.”
I smirked, thankful for Amahle’s honesty.
“Noted. Only the necessary noises. I’ll do my best to control myself but hopefully the bed doesn’t squeak.” I pulled off my leather vest, tossing it on the ground beside my boots.
Amahle rolled her eyes, then left again.
Seren shut the door, still facing it. “Swiver.”
I chuckled. “I aim to please, solwyn.”
