Page 110 of Tempest of Wrath and Vengeance

“You think I don’t know what you need?” he asked with a smirk that was all predator. “I know exactly what you need, but I don’t thinkyouknow what you need. You accuse everyone oftakingfrom you—when we both know that was one thing he nevertookfrom you—so now you need to ask for it.”

“Ask for it,” she repeated again, that fury sparking once more. “What? You want me to crawl across the floor and beg sweetly from my knees?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“Absolutely not,” she snarled.

He shrugged again because now that image was in his head, which was just…fucking fantastic. He was already barely hanging on the way it was. His dragon loved the idea of her on her knees, and his magic loved the idea of… Well, just her. Because now that he was spending so much time with her—alone—the pull he’d been avoiding for years was only getting stronger. But these were thoughts he had no business entertaining.

Because she was Theon’s.

Mine, his dragon growled so forcefully he knew his eyes shifted.

She clearly noticed because her features shifted to something sensual. “You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I crawled to you, Luka,” she purred, sauntering towards him.

“Baby girl, I know exactly what I’d do with you,” he countered, immediately rising to the challenge because there was no way he would let her get the upper hand in this. No part of his being would allow it. “However this isn’t about what I’d do with you, but what you need right now.”

“And what is it I need?”

“To expel all that energy from the high of victory,” he replied.

“By sparring?” she drawled, rolling her eyes as she pushed past him.

“No, you brat,” he snarled, spinning her so her back was up against the wall of the bedroom now. A dismayed huff came from her lips as he braced an arm above her head. “Ask me.”

Violet eyes full of wrath and heat and suspicion stared back at him. Her words were tinged with agony when she said, “Please don’t be an asshole with this.”

“Ask me,” he repeated.

Her eyes fell closed for a brief moment as she clearly debated what to do. When she reopened them, she whispered, “I can’t.”

“Why?” The word was guttural as he waited for her explanation.

“Because I don’t trust you,” she admitted. “I can’t trust you.”

Something in his chest twisted at that admission, and his dragon reared back as if she’d struck him. In a way, she had because he was here, with her, and not where he wanted to be. He was training her to control magic that would destroy the kingdom he had sworn to protect. He was standing here, ready to give her what she needed, and she said she couldn’t trust him?

His mouth was on hers before he knew what he was doing, and gods, he swore every time he did this, her mouth would be the death of him. Yet here he was, coming back for the tormentagain and again. Didn’t she realize what this was doing to him? What he was going through for her? And she couldn’t fucking trust him?

He hadn’t meant for this to be a deep, soul-crushing kiss. Then again, he hadn’t meant to kiss her at all. This was supposed to be soft with light flicks of tongue, but then her hands were slipping into his hair. Both of them. Which meant she’d dropped that towel.

That knowledge alone had him groaning into her mouth, and the sound seemed to spur her on. She arched her back, and his arm slid around her waist before his fingers moved, tracing up the length of her spine to grip the back of her neck and hold her in place. Her mouth was hot and hungry, needing more and needing it rougher, harder. Then it was her moaning into his mouth as he gripped her hips and hoisted her up. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist, and he cupped her ass, never breaking their kiss as he walked her to the bed.

He lowered her to the mattress, but her hands fisted the collar of his shirt, keeping him close. She was desperation and desire. His hands skimmed up her side, and it wasn’t until he took one of her full breasts in his hand that she finally released his mouth with a gasp.

“Yes,” she rasped, arching into his touch. “More, Luka. Please.”

Theon got off on the begging. He knew that from the times they’d shared a partner in the past, but Luka had always been drawn tothis. A female asking him for what she wanted. Giving her what she needed fulfilled some deep-seated purpose of taking care of her.

He tweaked her nipple, the soft moan the sweetest reward he’d ever received. Then he was pulling that nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. Her moan became a gasp, and he was suddenly chasing a different kind of high than she was. Gods,she tasted good. Perfection and wildness. Light and dark. Sunshine and stormy skies.

One hand kept him held above her while the fingers of his other hand skated down her belly, over her hip, and straight to the wet heat between her legs. He dragged the pad of his thumb over her swollen clit, the whimper that came from her instantly becoming his favorite sound in the realm.

“More,” she rasped, her breaths shallow and fast as she thrust her cunt into his hand.

He swiped his thumb over her sensitive nerves again and felt her whole body shudder as he kept rubbing. He took his time, teasing and exploring, until he skimmed his fingertips down to her opening. His dragon snarled in satisfaction to find her dripping. Or maybe that was him doing the snarling? He didn’t know at this point. All he knew was he wanted to be inside her more than he wanted anything else. There would be no coming back if he did, and that thought alone might kill him because he couldn’t do this.

I trust you, Luka.

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