Page 124 of Song of the Dark Wood

Rowan didn’t want to stop seeing the hungry way Conor looked at her. Didn’t want to stop feeling surprised when she woke up in his arms. Didn’t want to confront the fact that no one had ever made her feel so simultaneously safe and out of control.

“Rowan,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head. She knew the moment he looked at her that way, she wouldn’t be able to do it.

“I can’t,” she sobbed. The dagger fell from her hand, landing with a soft thud in the linens. Conor batted it away, and it landed on the floor with a loud clang.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

He chuckled as he kissed away her tears. “Oh, love, I think we both know that’s not true at all.”

“It’s not,” she gasped.

Conor pulled her into a slow kiss.

“I need you,” she whispered.

He understood what was said and what wasn’t. He understood what she needed to feel instinctively.

“You are beautiful and kind. All will be well. Now, I’ve never had a way with words, so let me show you how I feel.”

He moved with a new urgency, covering every inch of skin he could reach with kisses until Rowan couldn’t stop moaning; until her heart thundered in her chest; until everything frozen in her thawed and heated.

Tension wound in her body like a coiled snake. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. More of Conor, more feeling. She wanted to consume him the way he had her. She wanted to have some sort of ownership over him. She wanted proof of what existed between them—as if love was a thing she could hold in her hands.

She rolled so suddenly that she caught Conor off guard as she positioned herself on top of him and sank down. She threw her head back and groaned as Conor bit out a curse. She paused, meeting his eyes.

“Go on, then, lass, take what you want,” he said with a smirk. His hands gripped her hips like she was the only thing anchoring him to the world.

It took her a moment to get her bearings, but the friction and control felt amazing once she did. She rolled her hips, building a rhythm that stoked the kindling fire within her to an inferno.

Conor met her movements with a gentle thrust of his hips. The tension in her was so close to breaking. She raked her fingernails down Conor’s chest, and he groaned in satisfaction. She’d never felt so sexy and free as she did with his heated gaze locked on her.

“Please,” she whimpered, more to herself than to Conor.

Still, he picked up the pace of his movement, his hand dropping between their bodies to rub against her. She lookedinto his eyes—eyes that reflected the love she felt so acutely—as she let go. Her climax crashed over her in waves, and she rode it out breathlessly.

She smiled at Conor as the feeling faded, slumping forward.

“Tired yourself out, lass?” he taunted.

Rowan frowned. “Absolutely not.”

“Good, because I am not nearly done with you.” Conor grinned. He rolled her onto her hands and knees before taking her hips in his hands and sliding back inside of her.

She cursed as she dropped her head to the bed, panting. Conor bent over her so that his chest was flush to her back. He wrapped an arm around her waist and thrust into her.

“Do you like that, Rowan?” he asked.

She couldn’t even speak around the sensation. She could only nod. She blocked out everything else but the feeling of him. His whole body shook as she moved to meet him.

“Stop holding back,” she grunted.

“Is that what you want, lass? You like when I take control? You like that I want you so much I’m shaking?”

“I like when you don’t hold back,” she rasped.

The words broke his restraint. He shoved her onto her stomach, and the new angle stopped all rational thought in her head. One of his hands held her hips in place while the other wrapped around her hair and tugged her head back so he could kiss her neck. She reached behind her, gripping his neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging him toward her. His hips moved harder, more frantic. Their movements took on a rougher, more desperate edge.

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