Page 94 of The Stolen Crown

I covered his hand. “You can…you can grip harder.”

He dragged his lips over my ear. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

His palm tightened around my throat. I let out a long moan.

Tait then brushed his palm over the globe of my ass, his fingers teasing the crease. “What about here?”

“Tait…” My head was spinning, but I managed to nod my approval.

With his thumb he pressed against the taut entrance, a sensation I’d never known, and let go of my hair to use his other hand to reach around and briefly torment my front.

I could not move, could hardly draw a breath. If this was what it meant to have Tait Heartwalker, I would bend to his every touch, his every command.

“Gods, Vicious. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Tait…”

“Are you begging?”

Oh, this beautiful disaster of a man.

“Never.” I gritted the word out through my teeth.

He laughed, sliding one finger inside my entrance. Tait shifted behind me and used his thigh to widen my knees.

“I’ll tell you a secret. I said I’d never beg for you.” A sob tore through my chest when Tait pounded inside me again in a rough thrust. Breaths came rough, short. My brow brushed over the cool ground. Tait grazed his teeth over my shoulder and said, “But the truth is, I lied. I would fall to my knees in front of you and beg for a single touch if that is all you offered.”

His hand reached back around my waist and slid down the front of my center, rubbing and stroking. A shriek of frustration rolled from my throat when he pulled his fingers away at the same moment release was building.

“My name. Now!” he demanded.

Sensual commands from Tait Heartwalker became my new obsession. I’d be glad to do anything the man asked. With his thrusts and the return of his torturous fingers, I could not keep my garbled shout of his name silent if I tried.

Tait took his victory and slammed into me again and again. It was primal and beautiful. Sweet and rough. My fingers clawed at the soil and I sat back against him to meet his thrusts. I was frenzied; he was controlled.

Release cut through me with such ferocity, I was certain I no longer knelt on solid ground.

He pressed a kiss to the side of my head and quickened his pace until his hot burst spilled into me. We remained locked together for a breathless moment. Tait speckled kisses down my shoulder, my spine, then slowly slid out.

When he rolled onto his back, I curled beside him and tucked my head beneath his chin, one leg slung over his waist.

After silence stretched too long, I traced his tattoo, feeling the rough skin of the brand I’d never noticed before, and whispered, “Was it…all right? Too much?”

It would be fine, wholly understandable, if what we’d just done was not as deliriously incredible for him as it was for me. The mere fact that he’d fought those dark creatures from his past, that he’d taken back a bit of his control—I damn near wanted to weep in pride.

Tait rolled onto one shoulder. His eyes seemed to glow in the fading sunlight. One finger traced the curve of my lip. “I am without words, Vicious. That was…more than I ever imagined, ever dreamed. You are bleeding made for me.” A bright, boyish grin split across his face.

He wrapped me in his arms and held me tightly. The burn of a tear slid from the corner of my eye.

Every step, every wretched battle—somewhere inside, I knew everything had brought me here, to this man’s arms.

No mistake, I would not let a damn thing tear me away.

Before the sun rose on the seventeenth dawn, I stood on the shore with Tait. I bid farewell to every scorched remnant of the pyres we’d lit for the dead from the village, for Boneseer.

In hand were the isle berries and nuts we’d foraged. Tait slung waterskins tied to moss ropes over his shoulder.

Our simple skiff bobbed in the tide, tethered to a stake on the shore.