Breanne remained still, sensing his anger. ‘Treasa said that I owed it to our people to marry a man who could overthrow Cerball’s rule. And she implied that I should not put my own personal desires above the needs of our family.’
The woman’s proposition wasn’t unexpected. Breanne was of noble birth. Her choice to stay with him was a decision born from her desire to save her father’s life. She was never meant to be bound to a man like him.
He waited for her to say that she would not consider her mother’s assertion, but her silence made him uneasy.
Breanne turned to face him, and her expression was troubled. ‘She told me to keep you as my consort, and not to give her a decision about the marriage yet.’
Which meant that she had considered it. A tension rose up within him, that she would turn against him.
‘No. I will not remain your consort on the side,’ he said darkly. He would never allow another man to come between them.
‘Isn’t that what I am to you?’ she countered. ‘Your consort? Or am I a concubine?’ To emphasise her words, she rolled to her back, pulling him on top of her. And he felt the need to possess her, to prove that she was more.
‘You are mine,’ he answered, leaning down to kiss her throat. He drew her so close, their bodies were skin to skin. He didn’t want to put a name to their relationship, for in his eyes, they belonged to each other.
And yet, he knew that Breanne had not given up her innocence because she cared. It had been a negotiation to save Feann. A vain part of him had wanted to believe that she had enjoyed sharing his bed, for she had given herself willingly.
Breanne cupped his cheek with one hand and said, ‘I feel as if I’m being blown around in a storm. Everyone wants to make decisions for my life. And I don’t know what the answers are.’
He rested his hand upon her bare hip, and gooseflesh rose upon her skin beneath his touch. ‘You already made your choice, søtnos. From the moment you surrendered yourself, I swore I would not let you go. You will never share another man’s bed. Not while I live.’
His body was still aroused, and he needed her to know that she belonged to him. He wanted to claim her, to drive away all thoughts of anyone else.
‘I don’t want another man,’ she whispered. ‘But I feel as if my life isn’t my own any more. I feel as if the chains are still there, though I cannot see them.’
He drew his hand over her bare breast, and she inhaled as the nipple grew erect. ‘In what way?’
‘I thought I was Feann’s foster daughter with no living family. Now I find out that my mother is alive, but she’s in exile. And she wants me to take back a homeland I don’t even know.’ She covered his hand with hers, straining at his touch.
Though he understood her dilemma, he wanted her to recognise that she did have control of her choices. ‘You have the power to say no.’
She turned to meet his gaze. ‘A woman holds no power at all. She is at the mercy of others.’
Alarr thought of his mother Hilda and his aunt Kolga, both of whom held a great deal of power in Maerr. ‘The women of my tribe are equal to men. If anyone tried to tell my mother Hilda that she was at the mercy of others, she would strike them down.’ A faint smile caught his mouth at the thought. Then he turned serious. ‘You can make whatever choices you want, Breanne. So long as you stay with me.’
Alarr bent down and suckled her breast, moving his hand lower. She inhaled sharply, as he was learning just how to touch her, to draw out her pleasure.
‘I want to stay with you,’ she whispered.
He guided his shaft to her damp opening. Although she tried to welcome him inside once again, he held back, resting his body weight on his arms. ‘Your life. Your body. Your very soul is mine, Breanne.’
He thrust deep inside her, marking her as his own. She gave a cry and gripped his hair, embracing him. As he took her, she rose to meet his hips with her own.
‘If that is true,’ she whispered, her face revealing her desire, ‘then you belong to me as well. Your life.’ She squeezed his length within her depths, and he hissed at the dark pleasure that filled him.
‘Your body.’ She kissed him hard, lifting her mouth to his. He returned the kiss, claiming her lips, welcoming the soft intrusion of her tongue.
‘Your soul.’ She moved him until he was on his back, buried deep inside her. Breanne rose up on her knees, riding him. He let her take her pleasure, watching her face tighten with rising desire. Her breathing rhythm shifted, and he sat up, lifting her hips and plunging inside hard. This was no longer simple lovemaking. Instead, it was a battle for control—and he gave it to her.
She met him, thrust for thrust, until her face transformed with raw desire, and she shattered around him. Alarr could feel the pulse of her release, but he would not stop. The sight of her coming apart was his own undoing. He penetrated her, over and over, until he erupted deep inside and his own shout joined hers. It was brutal, passionate, and his heart would not stop racing.
He remained inside her, bringing her gently to the side. ‘Did I hurt you, søtnos?’ He had been so caught up in the moment, he had lost control.
‘No,’ she breathed, smiling at him. ‘I liked it.’
He kissed her, sliding his hands over her body. He could not stop touching her, marvelling
