Page 33 of Severe Husband Warning

“You asked me to leave tonight,” he says.

He’s talking about the ballroom. With Rothgar here, touching me, it feels like a lifetime ago. “I did.”

“I would have destroyed him,” he whispers low, his nose brushing against the shell of my ear. The confession is so calm that it sends a shiver through me.

“I know.”

His thumb traces the curve of my jaw before he draws a slow breath.

“For longer than I can remember,” he says quietly, “I believed strength meant restraint.”

He falls silent, searching my face with an intensity that makes my heart ache.

“Tonight,” he continues quietly, “you reminded me there is strength in gentleness as well.”

His forehead comes to rest against mine, and I close my eyes instinctively. The warmth of him seeps through every place we touch until the world beyond this room begins to fade. Outside, lightning still flashes beyond the windows, but it feels impossibly distant beside the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

When I open my eyes again, he is still there, watching me, waiting for permission I can’t find the words to give.

Instead, I lean into the hand cupping my cheek.

Whatever fragile restraint he has been clinging to finally gives way.

He kisses me with a hunger that catches me completely off guard, one hand cradling my face while the other slides firmly around my waist, drawing me toward him until every inch of space between us disappears. The kiss steals the breath from my lungs, fierce with relief, carrying the weight of a man who has weathered a lifetime of storms before finally finding shelter in me.

My fingers tighten in the front of his coat as the lute slips forgotten onto the rug beside us, and I rise to meet the fierce certainty of his kiss.

16

ROTHGAR

The instant her lips answer mine, every careful distance I preserve since the day she crossed my threshold dissolves with startling ease. A low growl escapes me before I can suppress it, and I feel her smile against my mouth as she presses closer, utterly unafraid of the storm she has awakened.

She tastes faintly of honeyed wine and the lingering sweetness of the feast she scarcely touched. Her fingers tighten in the front of my coat as though she fears I might vanish if she lets go. I feel the same way. Everything beyond her fades away until breathing alone forces me to break the kiss.

These chambers have belonged to duty for longer than I care to remember. I entered this marriage because it strengthened my court and solved a political necessity. Those reasons still exist, yet before Calla, they no longer explain why I reach for her.

My hand rises toward the jeweled clasp resting against her shoulder. She studies me, and whatever uncertainty lingers between us melts beneath the quiet trust in her eyes.

The fastening slips free beneath my fingers, followed by the silver ornaments woven through her hair. I remove each one with quiet care until soft chestnut waves tumble over her shoulders. With every jeweled pin I set aside, the woman who stood before the court falls away, leaving only Calla.

I lift my hand to her cheek, my thumb tracing her warm skin. She leans instinctively into my touch, and something inside me gives way with startling finality.

“I have stood beside queens adorned in gemstones,” I say softly. “None of them have ever held my attention the way you do.”

A blush blooms across her cheeks. Before she can search for an answer, I step back into her space.

My own clothes dissolve with a flick of my wrist. The feel of her bare skin against mine sets every nerve beneath my own alight.

Surprise catches me when Calla pushes herself onto her elbows to kiss me again. I meet her halfway, deepening the kiss as a groan escapes me the instant her tongue brushes against mine.

“Calla,” I breathe into her neck as I trail kisses down the slim column, my fingers playing with the soft skin of her breasts. I bring my mouth to a peaked nipple and growl when she arches into me. “You feel and taste even better than I could have ever imagined.”

My hands trace the outline of her body before slipping lower to gently part her legs. I take my time, savoring every quiet sound she makes as I draw closer to where she wants me most.

“My lord,” she gasps when I brush the knuckles over her pussy. I trace over her clit lightly, slowly until I feel her rocking her hips against my hand, chasing the pleasure only I can give her.

She is already glistening with want. She calls my name, and I can hold back no longer. I push a finger inside her wetness and relish the way Calla claws at my shoulders to bring me closer.