“As many as you want,” he said. “You know I’m at your command, Lyriana. Always.”
Our lips met in a fierce and passionate kiss, like we’d picked up from where we were earlier in the night. My body was humming, remembering the ways in which Rhyan had taken me. The way he’d pounded into me, and how we’d both lost control.
“We need to go back,” I said suddenly, gasping for breath, as his hands slid up my sides.
“I know,” he said, but he was moving against me, his hips lifting. “Gods, I still want you.”
I had a sudden tightness in my stomach. Like a warning. It would be a while before we were alone again. Privacy had been difficult when it was just us and Meera. Now, we were on the run with six other people. If we were alone again, it wasn’t going to be anytime soon.
“Take me,” I said. “Here. Now. Quickly.”
His green eyes flashed.
I was on my back the next second, as I undid my belt, and Rhyan fumbled with his. Buckles came undone in a flurry, and we kicked off our boots, slid off pants and underwear, just enough to access each other.
It wasn’t like the other times. There was no build up, no finesse, no taunting or teasing. It was rough, and hard. Weweren’t focused on pleasure or playing together. This was something else entirely. Some kind of animalistic need to join, to remember what we’d done, to revel in the fact that we’d survived the night. That we were alive.
Rhyan grunted, slamming into me. I was tight, not fully prepared for him for once. But I didn’t care. I met him, pushing back thrust for thrust.
“Fuck,” he groaned, almost immediately. He was already jerking inside me. He wasn’t going to last long. But I didn’t need him to. That wasn’t what this was. This was primal. This was need. A desperate connection. An escape from all the death and danger we’d faced.
And then he was spilling into me, his face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain, with sweat beading his brows, the ends of his hair curling.
His chest rose and fell and he took short, labored breaths as he buried his face in my neck, and groaned. “Sorry,” he said. “You didn’t get to—”
I hugged him tight, then pulled his face to mine and kissed him. “I didn’t need to. I promise. This was what I wanted. I wanted you. Just you.”
But the moment he pulled out, my anxiety began to grow. Rhyan and I dressed in silence, and then stood up.
“You know, partner,” he said, his voice quiet, “you never answered my question.”
Marry me.
“What question?” I teased, wanting to keep the moment light, to hold onto this just a little while longer. “From what I remember of your exact phrasing, it sounded like a command.”
He nuzzled my neck. “Me? Command you? No. I am utterly at your mercy.”
“Hmmm. Then what would you call it?”
“Begging,” he said.
I took his lower lip between mine, biting playfully, then licking and kissing him. “My answer was yes before you asked.”
A wide grin broke across his face, his eyes sparkling and the look of happiness had returned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He kissed me again, and this time it was long and slow.
When he pulled back his expression was serious. Our hands entwined, and his finger stroked over mine—right where his ring might go. Then he lifted me into his arms, and I felt the familiar tug as the lights of the city blinked out.
We returned to the corridor outside our rooms, and Rhyan pressed me against the wall, stealing one last kiss. Then we knocked on the door, and Meera called out to say that we could enter. We’d just missed Marisol and Cal, but the effects of their visit couldn’t be missed. The room was full of plates of fresh fruit, jugs of water, bowls of stew, hot loaves of bread, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, and a small platter of assorted cakes. It was enough to feed us all breakfast three times over.
Meera had made herself a small plate, slowly taking small bites. But Jules was fast asleep in her bed.
“Did she eat anything?” I asked.
Meera shook her head sadly. “She will. She needed to rest more.”
I watched her anxiously.
My stomach rumbled, but I felt too nervous to eat. Rhyan, however, moved to the table and began assembling a plate, and handing it to me.
