Any other woman might have let Kaeja seed doubts in her mind. But not his girl. She knew him.Trustedhim.
Kaeja screamed in rage. Drew her fist back with full Harefoot speed. Then slammed it forward, right into the packed earth.
But Silla was not there. In a flash of movement too quick for Rey to see, Silla had rolled free and lunged at Kaeja, knocking her to the ground. Silla triumphantly placed a boot on Kaeja’s back.
“Yield,” ordered Silla.
Rey was filled with petty glee at seeing Kaeja bested, but he shoved it aside to make room for his pure, blinding pride. He felt light as air. Watching Silla take this victory felt better than anyhe’dever achieved. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Rey grinned like a fool, even as he replayed the event in his mind. How had Silla bested a Harefoot in speed? It made no sense. But at this moment, with Silla looking at him with fire in her eyes, Rey didn’t care. She stepped away from Kaeja and strode toward him. Silla paused before him, lifting onto the tips of her toes. And then, before the whole yard of warriors, she slid her lips against Rey’s.
It was an obvious statement of ownership.
And Rey had never been so turned on in his gods damned life.
“But—” sputtered Kaeja. Now sitting, she stared at her palms.“How did you—” Her crystalline blue eyes bored into Silla, and she pushed to her feet before striding toward her. “I know what you really are,” she said in a voice too low for anyone but Silla and Rey to hear. “You’re nothing but a filthy littlethief.”
And with that, Kaeja stormed from the sparring yards.
Chapter 6
The moment Silla kicked the door to her bedchambers closed, Rey’s lips crashed down on hers. Anger and jealousy and raw lust churned through her veins, and Silla tugged at Rey’s thick curls as she urged him on. They collided with the wall and sent a tapestry tumbling to the floor. Silla pulled back with a laugh, but Rey’s lips quickly recaptured hers. His mouth was soft, but his kiss was hard and domineering.
And Silla understood that the morning spent sparring had been the most torturous form of foreplay for Rey as well. With Rey’s eyes on her the entire time, it had been impossible to forget their morning routine in Kalasgarde—those large hands landing on her hips, tilting them just so; the press of his warm chest against her back as he’d restrained her lightly. She’d thrown herself into her practice, but her body had only grown tighter with need.
Now those hands landed possessively on her hips as Rey walked her backward. Her legs hit the bed, and Silla was falling, pulling Rey down with her. Though he braced himself carefully on his forearms, the sheer weight of him pressing her into the feather mattress was utterly delicious. But it also made her acutely aware of just how many layers of clothing separated them.
Silla fumbled with the fastenings of Rey’s lébrynja armor, desperate to feel his bare skin against hers. Anger from the sparring grounds lingered in her bones, exacerbated by thoughts of thatwomanwho’d not only tried to humiliate her, but also clearly marked herself as Rey’s past lover. The very thought of the woman’s hands on him made Silla’s anger flare hotter. Well. The woman hadn’t gotten the best of her in the sparring yard, and she certainly wouldn’t get the best of her in the bedchamber.
Hooking her leg around Rey’s hip, Silla took advantage of his surprise, heaving them both to the side. She twisted on top of him, then settled on his hips. Gods, he was hard as stone beneath her. Rolling against him, she tried to satisfy her cravings, but it wasn’t enough. Her heart pumped at an alarming rate as she shimmied down his thighs and tugged at his breeches.
“Silla.” Rey’s voice was a living thing, skimming along her skin but catching on every notch of her spine.
Silla raked her curls over one shoulder, looking deep into Rey’s eyes as she pulled him out, hot and firm and wholly enticing. “Did you enjoy it?” she asked, stroking him slowly. “Watching me spar?”
Rey’s hips gave an involuntary jerk. “Gods above, woman,” he growled, sounding half pained.
Silla’s lips curved into a smile. She did not know what Rey’s history was with that woman, but she did know she’d make him forget her.
“I think you did.”
Lowering her head, Silla licked the tip of him and felt Rey’s low groan all the way to her toes. A whimper escaped her, but she tried to cover it by taking him as deep as she could. Her eyes watered, but the flex of his hips only encouraged her. Silla began to move, noting the strain of his stomach muscles, the smoldering intensity of his gaze. His eyes fell shut on a curse, and inwardly she smiled.
“Silla,” hissed Rey, his fingers threading into her curls and pulling her up. “Wait.”
Silla wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, scowling at him. “I don’t want to wait.”
His passion-glazed eyes seemed to darken further. “Ever impatient.” Sitting up, Rey cupped her jaw, one thumb caressing hercheek. But Silla turned her head, capturing his thumb with a gentle suck. “Gods, woman. I won’t last if you keep this up.”
Having control over such a large, powerful warrior sent warmth unfurling low in her belly. Releasing his thumb, Silla leaned downward, but Rey moved with preternatural speed. Before Silla knew what had happened, she’d been flipped onto her back, Rey looming over her. Scowling, she reached for the length of him, but he caught her wrist and pinned it above her head.
“Trouble,” he muttered, forcing her other arm up and securing both wrists with one hand.
For a long, measured breath, he stared down at her reverently. Then, Rey slowly worked his breeches off before reaching for his tunic. As he shifted hands on her wrists to pull the garment over his head, Silla’s legs hooked around his hips, and she shoved against the weight of him. She rolled him easily—too easily. And when she tried to clamber atop him, she cried out in surprise as momentum kept them rolling. Rey landed atop her, a victorious look in his eyes.
“Are you trying to spar with me, Silla?”
She was too distracted by the expanse of tattooed skin above her to answer. Inky-black scales against warm, brown skin. A barbed tail twisting down one arm, a burst of flames twisting down the other…
As the scent of smoke met Silla’s nostrils, she blinked out of her stupor. Rey had expressed a thin ribbon of smoke and was now looping it around her wrists.
