Page 47 of Thief of Souls
But now I’m not thinking about pain, or oaths, or stopping him.
Now all I can taste is his mouth.
That hard, relentless mouth that tastes like all manner of sin. I can taste apples on his tongue, tart and sweet, and his hands slide down my hips, capturing my ass in both hands as he hauls me up, driving into the welcoming embrace of my hips.
A gasp tears loose from my ragged throat. I should stop this right now. This is dangerous, like throwing oil on a fire, but I can’t. Just a second more. Another second. I’m stealing seconds and drowning in the passion of his claim.
Keir doesn’t just kiss me.
He steals my breath, my thoughts, my tremulous heart… and if I’d had my soul, I think he’d be engraving his name permanently on that too. His magic runs through my veins like molten honey—or slow-acting poison. It slides through every inch of me, igniting something within me that I’ve never felt before.
A hand cups the back of my neck, fisting in my hair.
“Zemira.” My name is a gasp on his lips, and then he’s no longer being kind and gentle. Instead, he claims me with some sort of desperate growl, stirring a beating hunger within me. It feels like we’re eating at each other, as if I’m inhaling some sort of primal essence from him and breathing it into my lungs.
It’s too much.
I break away, shuddering for breath as I rest my forehead against his. The slam of my heart against my ribs feels like a mule kicking its stall walls. I don’t know what just happened. Except whatever did occur, I can still feel it, like lightning dancing through my veins.
Our eyes meet. I see the storm within him, dark clouds bubbling on a distant horizon. This is the primordial darkness within him. The conqueror. The prince. And he wants to claim every inch of me until he owns me.
Oh no.
I think I’ve roused the dragon.
“Put me down,” I whisper, heart racing like a carriage out of control.
He turns and strides toward the bed, carrying me in his arms. “Good idea.”
“Not like this—"
My back hits the mattress and Keir kneels between my thighs. Reaching down, he tries to capture my mouth again, but if he does all is lost.
Because I won’t let him out of this bed again.
I shove his shoulder, and we roll, me ending up astride him.
I don’t know who’s more shocked. Him, to find himself flat on his back, with my thighs straddling his lean waist, or me, to discover that the position, whilst the dominant one, seats me right where I shouldn’t want to be.
I freeze, fingers curling in his shirt.
Someone’s happy with the situation. And if what I can feel grinding into my ass is any indication, I do not want to unleash that battering ram for fear it will conquer me as surely as any castle.
“What the fuck were you planning to do with that thing?” I squeak, looking down as I heave my weight forward onto my knees. “Broach the castle walls?”
Keir captures my thighs in his hands, his eyes lazy-lidded. “Maybe I’ll fuck you into oblivion instead. Maybe we can dispense with these stupid games and simply skip to the enjoyable part.”
Another squeak of shock escapes me. “Games?”
“What’s wrong, Zemira?” His thumbs ride up the inner slope of my thighs. “You can take it. You know you can take it all.” A dangerous look enters his eyes. “I’ll even let you be on top.”
Oh no. This is a bad idea.
My body begs otherwise.
“We’re enemies,” I blurt. “You locked me into a year and a day of service. You’re a dragon. You’resupposedto be concentrating on the horn!”
“Keep lying, my love.” His thumb digs into my inner thighs as he runs the other hand up my leg. “Maybe we’ll both believe it.”
