Free Urden, God of Desire by Anastasia Rabiyah Page B

giving him leave to refill her drink. “I used to down two bottles of this every day after my wife died. Ended up sleeping all the time. I can’t remember much of that first year.” He poured. She remained silent as if his small revelation meant nothing. He swore he felt her gaze on his backside. He set the refreshed drink before her, standing over her while she sipped. She’s slowing down. Fury does that once you have one.
    She studied him over the rim of her goblet, swallowed, and set it aside. “Do you agree?”
    “No.”
    Her chair scraped the floor. Standing, she faced him.
    He breathed in. She smelled good, spicy, a mix of her perfume and the Fury luring him. He resisted. “I thought you’d be taller.”
    “What?” She glared.
    “In the coms. You seemed taller.” A tendril of hair hung across her left eye. He wanted to brush it aside, to lower his mouth and taste her, unbraid her hair and comb his fingers through its shiny length. His attention shot to the table. An image of her lying there stripped of her simple black dress seized his mind. He raked his fingers through his hair, mussing it.
    “I must warn you to reconsider, Shiemer Alon—”
    “Call me Enrue. You did on the coms.” Here she was only a step away and he hadn’t given in to his desire. Pride burned in his chest—pride he wanted to squelch.
    “Enrue.” Her demeanor hadn’t softened. “Why don’t you agree?”
    He stepped aside, grasped her sharer and scanned the verbiage above the Emperor’s seal. “I refuse to give up my rights and the rights of the people under my protection.”
    “Protection?” She tsked at him. “You’re a tyrant like all those before you. Don’t be a pain. You’re so far out in the rim that no one will miss you if—”
    “There you go threatening me.” He took a step backward, walked around the table and paused by the bar. “I have terms for you, little Cossia.” He turned his back on her. “Join me, swear loyalty to me, or spend the night in a cell. Sound fair?”
    “I am a ward of the Empire.”
    He gripped the edge of the bar. Ward? What does she mean? Her shoes tapped against the tile floor as she approached, stopping behind him. He felt her. The air around him filled with her heavenly scent. Fingers traced the middle of his back, tentative, searching.
    His cock hardened in anticipation of more. He wanted so much more. “Ward?” He didn’t dare move. Her touch lingered on his back before drifting down past his buttocks, reaching across his thigh. He hoped she would explore further.
    “Yes. I belong to the Empire. I have no right to swear loyalty to you. No rights at all.” Two fingers slipped beneath his sash into the waistband of his pants. She shuffled closer, her breasts grazing his back now, her breath soft against his neck. “Not that I want to.”
    To face her or not? To give in or step away? He could not decide. She was warm, her nipples hard, poking into his back through his shirt. Her small fingers tested his skin. He wished she would shove her hand down his pants and fulfill his fantasy. Enrue reached down, closed his fingers around her wrist and paused. Maybe she needed a hint. Maybe he ought to push her hand down and make his desires obvious. He held his breath, torn. Finally, he drew her hand away.
    She groaned and twisted her arm, trying to escape his grip. He squeezed harder, refusing to release her.
    “You will.” He dragged her across the room to the wall, fought for a hold on her other hand and pressed both above her head, crushing them against the wall.
    She didn’t scream or attempt to fight for her freedom. A glint showed in her eyes, and he wondered if she felt what he did, if she wanted him to do more. Her chest tickled his when she took in each steady breath. He realized she did not fear him, not at all. In fact, she seemed amused by his aggression.
    “What do you want from me, Enrue?” Her lashes lowered over her mesmerizing eyes. Her lips remained slightly