Page 384 of Heat of the Everflame

“Equals?” I asked.

“Equals,” he agreed. He pulled me off the bookshelf so I was standing before him, then took out the velvet pouch Doriel’s attendant had given him. He removed a vial of distinctive green liquid and held my gaze as he emptied its contents in his mouth, a rare gleam of mischief in his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat.

Contraceptive tonic. I’d made enough batches as a healer to recognize it anywhere. No wonder he’d been holding back in the washroom.

“So you didn’t think I’d spend the whole night reading, after all,” I teased.

“A wise soldier prepares for every possible battle.” His eyes ran down my body as he swept away the last drop from his lips with his tongue. Just like that, I was molten all over again.

He tossed the vial aside and quickly dispensed with the rest of his clothes. My skin pebbled—maybe at the cool air, or maybe at the towering god of a man standing naked before me—and I flicked a spark of Ignios magic into the fireplace to send it roaring.

Luther prowled forward. Silhouetted by the leaping flames, he looked like a demon come to devour my flesh and fill my dreams with sin.

He stopped in front of me and caressed my face, his touch achingly light. “Answer me, my heart. How do you wish to beat?” He set a gentle kiss at the corner of my lips. “Do you prefer it soft?”

His lips lingered there as his voice turned dark and his fingers caged my neck. “Or do you prefer it rough?”

I swallowed, and his grip tightened.

“Shall I get on my knees for you?” he murmured against my mouth. “Or would you rather I force you to your knees for myself?”

The tip of his thumb pressed between my lips. My eyes blazed defiantly as I let my tongue swirl around it, then pushed it deeper into my mouth. His throat strained, veins popping along his arms.

“Should I make you beg for your release?” He took my long waves in his fist, wrapping them once around, and dragged my head back. “Or take you so many times, you scream my name loud enough to be heard in every realm?”

He pulled my body to his. “My strong, brave, beautiful heart... tell me what you want.”

His eyes blazed with need as they scoured my face for my answer. Our bodies were trembling like tripwires, the tension between us lighting a dangerous fuse. I leaned up on my toes until my lips hovered a breath away.

And I whispered.

“I want toburn.”

We detonated.

We exploded together, a bomb of lust and love, a devastating inferno that left the world raining fiery debris.

Mouths collided, tongues sparred, each of us laying claim from the inside out. We indulged on the flavor of each other’s skin, tasting until we trembled, biting until we bruised.

He hauled me into his arms and crushed me against a bookshelf. The leatherbound spines dug into my flesh, and my nails repaid the favor, clawing down the granite hills of his powerful arms.

It was violent in the best kind of way—both of us allowing our most savage desires to run free, safe within the bounds of mutual trust. But there was a tenderness in it, too. He’d vowed to worship me, and Luther Corbois always kept his word.

He knelt at my feet and hooked my leg over his shoulder, then held my stare with unrelenting focus as he feasted on me to his, and my, delight.

“I’ve imagined this a thousand times since I knelt for you that day at the palace. I thought you’d taste like the forest.” He laughed darkly, the deep rumble vibrating through every nerve. “But you taste likefire.”

His mouth closed around my clit, and I cried out as I rocked against his face. I laced my fingers in his raven hair, loving his warmth beneath my palm. The scrape of his stubble was kerosene on my flames, each rough stroke of his jaw on my most delicate flesh sending lust scorching through my blood.

Everything we’d been through only heightened my desire. I’d seen him make Crowns tremble and warriors bleed, and I’d seen him guard the defenseless and be a hope to the lost. He was ferocity and heart in equal measures, and now he’d let them both come out to play.

He pinned my bucking hips as he devoured me with lips and teeth and tongue. Long, indulgent strokes danced with teasing flicks that left me shuddering, spots swimming in my eyes.

Pressure built, as exquisite as it was excruciating, and I pulled back, feeling like I might not survive the intense bliss of it. He nipped at me in punishment, and it nearly sent me over the edge.

Soon his fingers joined his tongue. He pumped, deep and unrelenting, stretching me around him and turning my throat raw with my moans. I pleaded for mercy, then prayed it never stopped.

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