He blocked me as I tried to move past him. “We’re already up to our necks with obligations to each other, Seren. You really want to know more? Every dark, dangerous secret that Haldron might torture out of you to use against me if he decides I’m a threat?” His eyes flashed with pain. “Is that what you really want?”
His words settled into my chest, thick and cording the tense muscles of my arms, still ready for a fight.
But the bond whispered something more.
He wanted to protect me.
Fiercely.
Struggling to breathe, I swallowed a lump in my throat, not believing the emotion flooding through me. “What do you care, Rykr? You’re leaving. Whether or not we break this bond, right? Our debts to each other are paid. I’m nothing more than your greatest weakness. You said it yourself.”
He flinched, then cupped my face. At last, his voice, strained and quiet, came. “I care about you, Seren Ragnall. More than I should. Not because you’re not worthy but because my life is a threat to yours for reasons you can’t possibly imagine. And still, I can’t decide what worries me more—the thought of someone using us against each other, or the idea that if the bond is broken, I’ll no longer feel you, hear you … sense you.”
His thumb traced my cheek, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve consumed me, Seren, and I fucking can’t stand the thought of you not being a part of me.”
My knees nearly buckled. He’d voiced my own fears and somehow that made them more real.
“What do you want from me, Rykr?” My breath shuddered. “Do you even know? Or am I a mistake you’ll run from the moment you get the chance?”
His jaw tightened, his eyes dark and stormy as they held mine. “You’re not a mistake, Seren. You never will be.”
Before I could respond, his mouth crashed down on mine with a desperation that mirrored my own. The bond flared to life, an ache that turned to fire as his lips moved against mine. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was an unraveling, every barrier between us falling away, leaving only the raw truth we couldn’t ignore.
The feeling of his lips, his mouth moving as his breath clashed with my own, was enough to undo me.
I wanted him more than ever.
Needed him.
My soul felt incomplete without him.
I slid my hands behind the nape of his neck, tugging myself up onto my tiptoes so I could reach him better, my lips firm against his.
This.
My pulse beat faster, my eyes closing as I coaxed my lips against his.
His lips parted as he responded to the urging of my kiss. My tongue stroked his, drawing it more deeply into my mouth as one of his strong hands splayed at the small of my back. His other hand slid up to my neck, digging into my hair and holding the base of my head firmly against him. Anchoring me.
In that instant, my need for him grew, the kiss changing from a tender, hungry one to something I knew I couldn’t control or come back from. My heart slammed into my ribs, an icy shiver traveling through my veins. The taste of his tongue, the soft caress of his lips, so full and delicious and just as sensual as I’d imagined they’d be, sent a molten ache through me.
I sucked on his lower lip, catching it between my teeth. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he shoved me back against the wall, hard, pinning me there with the iron strength of his hips. The cold metal hilt of his sword pressed into my side.
I fumbled with the sheath, unbuckling it, letting the sword clatter to the dusty wooden floorboards. My fingers found the waistband of his leather kilt as Rykr dragged his lips away from my mouth, trailing down my jaw as he undid the lacing of my vest. I tugged at every buckle and strap I found.
His breath was warm and ragged against my throat. “Solric above,” he growled at last, eyes narrowed, his fingers tugging at the intricate lacing of my vest. “You Viori don’t make this easy, do you?” His voice was rough, his fingers steady despite his frustration.
I teased a smile. “Need some help?”
Rykr’s eyes, molten hot with lust, swept down the curve of my throat. His thumb traced the hollow at my collarbone, then lower still, between the swell of my aching breasts. I wanted his hands on me, teasing, tormenting, exploring. Now.
Without warning, he spun me, pressing me against the cool stone wall. “Impatient?”
The vest dropped at my feet. My shirt followed, then my undergarments. Rough, callused hands slid around my waist, grazing bare skin as his lips brushed against my neck, a whisper of a kiss beneath my earlobe.
“No. Starved.” Hungry for his lips, I turned my face back toward his, catching his lips in a kiss and a tangle of tongues. One of his hands cupped one breast as he pressed me even harder against the wall.
His other hand unclasped the button at my waistband then pushed into the tangle of soft, slick heat between my legs. I groaned, my body bucking in response to his touch. “Gods, Rykr,” I managed, my voice breaking. “Please …”
