Free Into His Command by Angel Payne

glass…and my legs gripped
     him tighter.
    “You…make me perfect,” I whispered. “And alive. And,”—I shrieked a little, as he bit
     the side of my breast—“hot. Oh…so hot…Sams…”
    He took the last of it from me with the new seal of his lips. Raised up in order to
     plunge his tongue vertically, shifting one of his hands to grab my hair and yank my
     head back. His other hand stroked up from my breast, stretched across my neck, then
     braced my jaw, positioning me to keep taking his raw, carnal possession.
    “Sweet starlight.” Half his face was now masked by shadow. Only his eyes remained
     brilliant, irises like the night beams on the lake, telling me how high his own desire
     had risen. “You make me hot, too.” He teethed my lips and chin. “You burn everything
     away. You make it all…clean.”
    I almost gave in to a laugh. The last thing I wanted to be right now, especially with
     him, was clean. But the scorched honesty of his voice spoke to something deep within.
     He wasn’t talking about literal cleanliness. It was a stain inside him, visible even
     the night we first met, and had remained a shadow on his soul to this day. It faded
     when he was around me, which always eased my ache about it, but the blemish never
     quite went away.
    What would it take to make it go away?
    I moved my hands up. Framed the sides of his face. His skin was hot, even through
     the thick stubble. “But not all of it,” I rasped, tracing his lips with a thumb. “Let
     me in, Syn. Let me burn it all away.”
    He went utterly still. Only for a moment. That was all it took to see straight through
     to the truth I’d just struck—
    Before he shoved it all away.
    Jammed it down the same way he brought his hands down over mine. Swept it back, far
     into his darkness, as he swung my arms over my head. Deeper still, as he pinned my
     wrists to the window. Weighed it down like the cement block he turned himself into,
     pushing down on me. I mewled, reveling in his masculine bulk. Wanting it. Spreading
     wider as he twisted in, fitting his body harder against mine.
    My cry exploded louder. I didn’t care if the villagers in Noir, on the lake’s opposite
     shore, heard me. His erection pounded against every needy part of me, rousing my hottest
     desire. Every inch of my intimate channel was soaked. If the dark spot in my workout
     pants wasn’t enough evidence, my pointed nipples and puckered areolas definitely were.
    He slanted over me again, shoulders curving in. Claimed my lips once more, twining
     breath and teeth with lust and heat. His lower body moved with mounting friction.
     My tunnel clenched even tighter for him. Ached for the ultimate fulfillment I needed
     from him. I’d never been with anyone else like this—and about half the guys at the
     Center had tried—knowing now that this was what I’d saved myself for. Who I’d saved myself for.
    “ Astremé .” His grate vibrated against my lips.
    “ Samsyn .”
    “You want it to burn?”
    “Yes. God, yes .”
    A choppy breath tumbled from him. “But if I burn you…the way I long to…”
    “The way you need to.” I jerked up my face, spearing him with my stare. “The way I need you to.” Curled my fingertips against his hold, trying to score him with my
     nails—what there was of them. I was a child of the gym and the armory, not the salon
     and spa. “Dammit, Syn. If this night is all we get—all I get—”
    He cut me off with another kiss—but not before I watched my charge impact him like
     a mortar shell, detonating his resistance. Stubborn, beautiful ox .
    Beautiful was just the start.
    Watching his desire take over his nobility was like witnessing a wave form on the
     ocean. The visceral knowledge that deeper forces were at work. The awe of seeing them
     grow, expand, surge free. The mix of dread and exhilaration, acknowledging their danger—and
     acquiescing to it.
    He pulled up, though kept me tethered with his gaze. Whatever he