“You!”
Satisfaction pooled in his gut. “Later,” gritted Rey, “we’ll have a proper conversation, Silla, and you’ll tell me why you doubted my feelings for you.”
A whimper escaped her as he jerked her legs roughly up, and bundled them over his shoulders. “But for now,” he rasped, nipping her sensitive skin, “let me prove to you just how much I want you.”
And he showed her with the expert strokes of his tongue; with the claiming way his mouth worked her. Rey showed her the flaming heat of his desire until she too was burning with want. His grip on her thighs was bruising, his pace relentless, but he could not stop until he’d wiped each and every shred of doubt from Silla’s mind.
Her whimpers and pleading whispers were the sweetest music to his ears, and her still-stockinged feet slipped down his back, trying and failing to find something to grip onto. But the more she pleaded, the more Rey slowed his pace, prolonging this moment for as long as he could.
“Rey.”
“Not yet, Silla,” he tutted, kissing her inner thigh, as Silla’s feet, hooked around his back, tried to pull him to where she wanted him. “I’m still making my point.” He was painfully hard, yet he thrived on control and enjoyed this method of torture.
Working first one finger, then two in tandem, Rey brought her to the brink, then pulled back, smiling as her wail of frustration filled the small room. He pushed to his feet and reached for the fastenings of her gown.
“Too many gods damned layers, Silla. I need to see younow. It’s been too long.”
It took all his restraint not to rip the gown from her, and he grunted in satisfaction as it finally slid free. She was gorgeous and his eyes roamed greedily over her.
“Rey,” she pleaded, reaching for him. He considered prolonging this game of control, but even Rey had his limits.
The air thrummed between them as Rey hauled Silla to the edge of the desk and positioned himself at her entrance. With a single swift motion, he sheathed himself deep inside. A curse fell from his lips at the silken heat of her. And based on the pleasure-dazed look in her eyes, she was right there with him. Rey drew all the way out.
“Let me make this clear to you, Silla.” He thrust back in.
“I wanted to tell you about every strange gods damned cloud I saw.” Thrust.
“I spent my days dreaming up names for your future chickens.” Thrust.
“Did I miss you? No. I obsessed about you, every minute we were apart.” Thrust.
“My every thought circled back to you. I missed the feel of you. The smell of you. I even missed your incessant humming.”
“I don’t hum—”
But Silla cried out as he climbed onto the desk and began to move in earnest. Rey covered her mouth with his own to stifle her cries, but the desk thumped against the wall with each thrust, and he soon gave up. Let the guards hear them. Let the whole city hear them.
It wasn’t long before her inner muscles began to pulse, and Rey thanked the gods because he couldn’t last much longer. The desk rocked back and forth with their motion, and he wondered if it would hold. But he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, not even if the world crashed down around them. The feel of her was so exquisite, for a moment the edges of his vision darkened.
Silla’s sharp cry pushed him over the edge, and a groan wrenched free from the deepest part of him. With one last thrust, he buried himself deep inside of her and grunted. His vision burst with starlight as he shuddered in release. Sounds all around him grew muffled and for a moment, he was weightless—he was falling.
But a shriek from Silla had his instincts rushing back. Theywerefalling. Rey took the brunt of their weight on his arms, still wrapped around Silla, as they landed in a pile of splintered wood. They lay there for a silent moment, as understanding settled into place. The gods damned desk had collapsed beneath their weight.
Silla laughed first, but it wasn’t long before Rey joined in—deep laughs coming straight from his belly.
And as he looked down at her, Rey was flooded with warmth. Because this time, her smile was true.
Chapter 29
Kovograd, capital of Zagadka
Standing atop Kovograd’s outer defensive wall, Kassandr Rurik’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword as he watched the scene unfolding below. The frigid breeze rustled his hair, carrying the stench of blood and shit. Above, ravens circled in the skies, ready to feast.
The battle was currently held to the river, though that would shortly change. Half of Zagadka’s fleet was on the water, warriors spilling onto the decks of the Urkan fleet in wolf and mountain cat forms. Trebuchets on shore hurled rocks and what few fire flasks they’d managed to assemble, while Morzh and his legion of walrus shifters gouged holes in hulls. But the Urkan fleet was well built, and had many defenses of its own—protective shields and smaller ballistas, not to mention the bloodthirsty berserkers.
The Zagadkians simply did not have enough ships or warriors to keep the battle on the river. And it wasn’t minutes after Kassandr had this thought that the first of the Urkan ships anchored at Kovograd’s outer docks.
Unused to the business of sieges, Kassandr’s beast loosed a long, low growl. His animal nature urged Kassandr to leap from the walls and charge into battle. Throats would be torn, Urkan blood spilled. But with more and more warriors arriving by the minute, victory would be short-lived.
