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“Oh, shit,” Ion exclaims, scrambling to follow me.
As I close the distance, I watch some of the younger recruits get a stake and mount Cayson’s severed head to display alongside the savages’. At twenty paces out, Luka notices me. The stare he levels me with almost brings me to a standstill. Savagery and lingering bloodlust cling to him like a shadow in broad daylight, and for a fraction of a second, I worry he’ll lash out at me. But doubting him now would only taint what we’ve begun to nurture between us. It’s worth the risk.He’sworth the risk.
I forge ahead until he looms over me, his chest scraped and bruised and there’s a spray of blood across his shoulder. I open my mouth to congratulate him on his victory when he simply takes hold of my upper arm and starts walking, hauling me along with him.
I don’t make a fuss, just hasten my steps to match his pace. I do pry at his fingers, though, which earns me a snarl. I don’t let up. First, he’s hurting me, and second, we must be seen as partners – deve and a’deve – who rule together, something that isn’t possible if he’s dragging me around like a rag doll.
He stops unexpectedly, annoyed with my attempts to loosen his grip. Returning his glare, I pointedly look to where he’s cutting off my circulation. Even though his lip curls into a sneer, he allows me to guide his hand down until our palms meet. Triumph soars in my blood at the compromise as we head back toward the stronghold.
As we near the edge of the crowd, Zola barrels toward us, mad with grief, her fist raised. Before she can strike me, Luka shoves her back, sending her to the ground. Gray immediately steps between them, animosity pouring off of him as he protects his mother.
I snake my free arm across Luka’s waist, pressing myself into his side without letting go of his hand, willing him to forget about Zola. The aesthetics of beating an old woman couldn’t possibly be favorable, and a brawl with Gray could be disastrous with Luka tired and his thinking clouded. To my relief, Luka ultimately lets it go and pulls me past the man.
The boisterous crowd straggles along behind us on the way back to the stronghold, without a doubt in the mood for a party. On the steps of the Great Hall, a collection of women awaits Luka’s return, including his mother. She’s plainly happy to see him whole, but he only spares her a curt nod, passing not only her by, but also Dagmar, Kata, Lorna and many others who work in the stronghold.
Up the stairs and down the hall to his chamber, he pulls me along. He doesn’t let go of me until we’re safely behind the door and that’s only because he needs both hands to bar us inside. I head for the pitcher of water to get him cleaned up.
“I want you naked.”
The water pitcher poised over the basin, I pause to glance at him over my shoulder. Everything I see tells me he’s not going to negotiate, so I don’t know why I try. “You’re covered in filth.”
“I don’t give afuckwhat I’m covered in.” His hard tone raises goosebumps across my skin as I set the pitcher down.
Over the bed that separates us, I take in the thinly veiled violence in his posture, his fists clenching and unclenching, his gaze still flat and partially vacant. Half of him is clearly still back on that field fighting for his life. “My throat is still sore from last night,” I announce.
His eyes narrow, though whether it’s in response to my defiant tone or because he picks up on my dare to fuck me properly, I can’t say. All I know is that he unwinds slightly as I reach for the buckles on my vest to do as he’s asked.
“You fought well,” I say and a flash of interest beats back some of his blankness. My boots join my vest and dress in a heap on the floor before I go to work on my pants. “Tell me, does such grace influenceallyour movements, my deve?” The tilt of his head tells me he’s unsure of what I’m implying, though the ever-increasing bulge in his pants says his body doesn’t care. As my shirt comes over my head, I decide to spell it out for him.
Completely naked, I hitch my knee up on the mattress and crawl toward him. “What I mean, Luka, is do you fuck as well as you fight?”
As if he’s been let off of a leash, in two giant steps, he’s at the side of the bed, his hand at my nape, hauling me up to my knees. “You’re about to find out.” His mouth crashes down on mine, and it’s like we go to war. Our lips and tongues begin a drawn-out, frantic battle, igniting the now very familiar blaze between my thighs. He pulls me flush against his body and I grope and claw at his back. We explore each other until his hands drop to my ass and he curls his hips into mine. I gasp into his mouth.
“You’re going to take every inch I give you,” he declares. “Do you hear me? Every fucking inch. I’m going to bury myself so deep inside of you.”
I want to agree, I want to consent, but his greedy lips are back to consuming mine. In an attempt to get him closer, I slide my own hands down to grasp his ass . . . his leather-clad ass. The barrier incenses me, and I start to scrabble at his laces, mewling my frustration.
“If you want my cock, you just have to ask for it.”
If I wasn’t drunk on him, I’d object to his condescending tone. If I wasn’t ready to combust, I’d drag this out. But as it is, “I want your cock, Luka.”
He tugs me back by the hair at my nape to study me while he undoes the laces and sets his beast of a cock free. It bobs between us, long, hard, and very erect before he reaches for the apex of my thighs and I almost come out of my skin. His rough, calloused fingers send streaks of pleasure careening through me until he pulls them away.
“Nn–”
My objection is cut off by a wet slap to my core. I freeze.Holy shit.It wasn’t hard, but I felt it. Again, he jerks me by my hair, this time to hiss in my ear. “This is going to go my way. Not yours. I give. You take. Is that understood?” He presses his nose to my neck and inhales deeply. “Now be a good girl and lie yourself down.”
He lets me go and I wobble, a bit dazed. He lifts his chin at the bed. Overwhelmed, I do as he wants. But as soon as my back hits the feather mattress, he seems to change his mind. Reaching for my waist, he uses his strength to turn me over and arrange me on my hands and knees. Immediately he’s dragging me back to the edge of the bed and notching himself into place.
“Waaaiiit,” I cry as he starts to press into me. This isn’t how I wanted it to go. “Wait. Please!” He hesitates and I take my chance to wiggle forward, dislodging him. I fall sideways and quickly flip over to stare up at his pissed off expression. “Please,” I whisper. “Can we do it face-to-face?”
His jaw clenches, and it’s as if he has my heart between his teeth.
“Just this once?” I bargain in a small voice, not telling him that I’ve never done it like that before, not wanting him to see how the hurt grows the longer he refuses to agree.
He finally huffs with irritation, but climbs onto the bed and settles himself between my thighs. Pushing my hair back from my forehead, he says, “You’re not very obedient.”
An exhale catching in my throat, I plant a quick kiss on the side of his mouth for granting me this when he doesn’t want or need it. “Thank you,” I whisper.
