Page 10 of The War of Four Winters

Something shifted in his expression, understanding mixed with a heat that had nothing to do with our argument. His thumbs stroked along my cheekbones, calluses catching against my skin. "Then trust me to protect what's yours," he whispered. "Trust that I know my own strength now."

Instead of answering, I closed the distance between us, claiming his mouth in a kiss that was more demand than request. He yielded instantly, body melting against mine in that way that still made my blood burn. My fingers tangled in his copper hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. The place where his collar had once rested was marked with a ring of pinprick scars, tiny white dots where steel had bitten into flesh. I traced them with my tongue, tasting the evidence of what we'd been, what we'd become.

"If you die there," I growled against his skin, "I will drag you back from whatever underworld claims you and kill you myself." My teeth grazed his pulse point, feeling it jump beneath my tongue. "Do you understand?"

His laugh caught on a gasp as I bit down harder. "Is that so?"

"Yes." I pulled back enough to meet his eyes, letting him see everything I couldn't say. The fear. The rage at sending him into danger. The desperate need to keep him safe. "Come back to me. That's a command."

His pupils were blown wide with desire, but there was something else there, something deeper. Understanding. His hands came up to tangle in my braids.

"You cannot command death," he whispered, but his grip tightened in my hair. "We both know that now."

I pressed him harder against the table, letting my weight pin him there. The heat of his body burned through our clothes, familiar and maddening. His cock hardened against my thigh as I ground down against him, drawing a strangled moan from his throat. "Then I will follow you there again. Trade another year of my life to bring you back."

His breath caught. Papers crinkled beneath him as he arched up against me, legs spreading to cradle my hips. "No. Never again. I won't have you sacrificing pieces of yourself for me."

"You are mine to protect," I growled, biting at his jaw hard enough to mark. The salt of his skin mixed with the lingering taste of wine on my tongue. "Mine to save."

"Yours," he agreed, voice rough with need. His hips rolled up against mine in a slow, deliberate tease. "But not your slave anymore. Not your possession to command." His other hand slid beneath my shirt, nails raking across my ribs where Daraith's blade had carved out my death price. The scar tissue burned at his touch, sensation magnified by memory. "We belong to each other now. Equal partners in this."

I caught his wrist, pinning it to the table beside him. The position made him gasp, body responding instinctively to the restraint even as his eyes challenged me. His back arched, pressing the long line of his torso against mine. Even through our clothes, I could feel the heat of him, the way his muscles trembled with need.

His trapped wrist twisted in my grip, not fighting but reminding me of his strength. "You need to trust me," he said, voice rough with both desire and conviction. "Trust that I know my own power now. That I'm not the broken slave he made me anymore."

My fingers loosened on his wrist, the gesture an admission. "I do trust you. I just..." The words stuck in my throat as his free hand traced the scar beneath my ribs. "The thought of him touching you again..."

His response was to surge forward and kiss me, fierce and demanding. There was nothing submissive in it, nothing of the slave he'd once been. His teeth caught my lower lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. The copper taste bloomed between us as his tongue pushed into my mouth, claiming rather than yielding.

We crashed together like storm waves against a cliff, each touch carrying the weight of everything we couldn't say aloud. My hands found the laces of his shirt, tearing at them with desperate urgency. He responded in kind, fingers working at my belt. The table creaked beneath our combined weight as I pressed him harder against its surface.

"Not going to take me to bed, Your Majesty?" he taunted, eyes alight with challenge as my hands pushed his shirt from his shoulders. "Too desperate to make it across the room?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I growled, nipping at the sensitive spot below his ear. "To be carried like some precious treasure." I slid my hands beneath his thighs, lifting him onto the table fully. Maps and reports scattered to the floor, forgotten. "But you're right where I want you."

A shiver ran through him at my words, though his smirk remained. "Are you certain?" His hands found my braids again, tugging just hard enough to sting. "Because I recall a king who once promised to have me in every room of this fortress. We've yet to properly break in that new desk by the window."

I caught his wrists, pinning them to the table on either side of his head. "Careful what you ask for."

The wild light in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Or what?" he challenged, arching up to bite at my jaw. "You'll punish me? We both know how much you enjoy that."

I released one of his wrists to grab his throat, thumb pressing against his pulse point where the collar had once rested. Not hard enough to restrict his breathing, but firm enough to remind him of my strength. "I enjoy making you beg more," I whispered against his ear.

The sound he made, caught between a moan and laugh, sent heat rushing through me. His free hand didn't fight my hold, but slid between us instead, working at the laces of my breeches with practiced ease. "Then make me."

My control snapped. I yanked the remaining clothes from his body, not caring as the fabric tore. He responded with equal ferocity, forcing my shirt open, nails raking down my chest hard enough to leave trails of fire in their wake. The sight of him spread across the table, copper hair wild against the dark wood, was enough to make my mouth go dry.

"Turn over," I ordered, releasing his throat to trail my hand down his chest. “I want to take you from behind.”

His eyes darkened, but a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Make me."

The challenge hung between us for a heartbeat before I moved, using my greater strength to flip him in one smooth motion. He put up just enough resistance to make the victory satisfying, a token struggle that fooled neither of us. I pressed my palm between his shoulder blades, holding him against the table as my other hand tangled in his copper hair.

"Is this what you wanted?" I murmured, gentling my grip enough to tilt his head so I could see his profile. "To be reminded of your place?"

"My place is wherever I choose to be," he countered, eyes glittering with heat despite his compromised position. "And I choose to be right here."

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