Page 99 of The Dragon Queen

“Soren, we can’t,” I whispered as he took me in his arms. “Rhiannon?—”

“Don’t want to hear another woman’s name on your lips, not while we’re alone,” he said. “It was hard enough keeping my distance while everyone else talked about war.”

His head dropped down and mine lifted to meet it.

“Rhiannon was asking about you, about your women,” I replied, my voice little more than a breath. “I think she wanted to become one of them for the night.”

“She’s a pretty girl.” I stiffened in his grip and he smiled down at me. “But that’s not enough to move me. I was never one to tarry with the lasses at the keep. Treating a woman like a hole to empty yourself into, that was never the way for me.” His hand slid along my jaw. “I need a connection with a woman to be stirred, and that’s only ever been you.”

Kissing him was madness, doubly mad when a highborn lady was probably still standing outside our door, but Draven had sent Soren to me. I reached up and sank my hand into Soren’s hair and claimed that gift wholeheartedly.

Chapter 48

“Soren, we shouldn’t…” I moaned, but that didn’t stop me from kissing him. I needed the feel of his stubble, the taste of his mouth. Beer and wine and man, it was exactly what I needed. Everything was so hellishly grim and he was the perfect antidote.

“Well, I know that, lass.” There, that was the difference. He rasped that out under his breath in a tone that screamed of need and selfishly, I was glad for it. I had to know he was just as affected by me as I was him. “And we’ll stop if you truly wish it.”

“Don’t you dare,” I growled.

I truly sounded like a dragon queen then.

“No?” I loved this side of Soren. Few ever saw it but me. That devilish look in his eyes, the way his head tilted to one side as if to get a better look at me. “Then we better lock that door.”

“No.”

My hand grabbed his sleeve and he could’ve tugged free, but he didn’t. Instead, he stopped where he was, staring down at my hand, then up at me.

“But anyone could walk in, Pippin.”

That was the point, I wanted to tell him, but instead, I just pleaded mutely for him to understand. Brom had made clear we’dneed to hide what we were, but it was killing me. Just then I envied Queen Gloriana desperately. She could parade all her men in front of the entire court, right up until the point she died.

“I don’t care,” I told him and that had his brows creasing. I longed to smooth it away. “I don’t, Soren.”

“Pippin—”

“I’m tired, so tired, of washing in lakes, of eating bloody jerky, of peeing behind a tree. I’m tired of being dirty and tired and scared, really scared, but most of all.” I stared at him, willing him to either walk towards that door or me, because then I’d know. “I’m scared of pretending I don’t care about you, when I do.”

“What’s this about then?” he asked with a shake of his head. “Pippin, is this because of that girl?”

He didn’t even name the baron’s daughter, which pleased a small part of me, but that wasn’t the answer.

“Rhiannon? No, she was just doing the same thing I would’ve if a wing of handsome Royal Riders visited my father’s home. I’m sure she’s glad to be home, but with that comes responsibility, duty, expectations, and I think for just one night…” My throat was feeling tighter by the second. “She’d want to slip into your room and just let herself go wild.”

“Is that what you want?”

The frown faded, and I caught a familiar shine in his eyes. It was the same one he used when we knew he’d push us hard during a training session, and I had to wonder what he’d make me do now. Not sit ups or running around the room, that was for sure.

“If you’d come to my father’s house, if you’d looked at me twice?” My eyes couldn’t stop moving, taking in all the parts of him. Those broad shoulders, that wide chest, those thick arms. Everything about Soren screamed of competence, strength and that was wildly attractive. “I’d have found out which room you were going to sleep in too.”

“Would you indeed?” He was back standing before me, his hand sliding up the nape of my neck, teasing the small hairs there. “And what do you think would’ve happened the minute you slipped into my room?”

I grabbed that suggestion with both hands, sliding them down his tunic. I found the toggles, plucking one, then the other, him watching me the entire time. Part of me wanted to prolong this. I had so little time to just be with him. I wondered if Draven had sent Soren up for just this reason. It seemed to fit with his controlling ways. I’d thank him so very nicely later if that was the case, but now…

Under the tunic, under the shirt, he wasn’t a drill sergeant anymore. This was Soren, a man I’d caught a glimpse of that day when he trained me to fight, those strong hands working liniment into my muscles. He stopped thinking about his duty and started thinking only of me.

My hands spanned his chest when I had him shirtless. It was a possessive thing, but also a reclaiming. This smattering of hair was mine, that scar was as well. He was mine, mine, mine. I kissed him then, winding a trail down one pectoral, then leaving a little peck on a hard nipple, following a scar down. His stomach muscles tensed, popping through his skin and I marked each one of them as my hands went to his belt.

“Pippin…” His hand spanned my head, cradling it as I worked his belt free. “Pippin, no?—”

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