War (The Four Horsemen #2) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,134

if I’m doing this right. I don’t really know how to show the horseman love when love isn’t really sex. But it’s the best I got at the moment.

As I move over him, I feel the hard planes of his physique, each curve still new and wondrous to me. There’s a giddy flutter low in my belly, and it scares the shit out of me.

My eyes flick back to War’s. He’s watching me, enraptured.

I pull my shirt off, then my bra, leaning back down to trail kisses over his bare torso.

“Take off the rest,” I whisper to him.

He doesn’t even hesitate. Whatever I’m doing has lit a fire in his eyes. He flips us around and pulls the rest of our clothes off before draping himself back over my body.

The horseman’s hand slips down between my legs, and he begins to touch me until I’m moaning and grinding against his palm, and he’s whispering wife over and over again beneath his breath.

This is safe territory. We’ve done this dozens of times. This isn’t love, it’s plain and simple desire. And even though I’m supposed to be showing War love, this is much more comfortable and familiar.

He leans over me, his eyes intense, and I touch his cheek, even as his fingers work in and out of me.

The warlord’s breathing heavily, and he’s rock hard and ready. He looks at me like he’s about to ask, What’s next?

I angle my pelvis and spread my legs, my meaning obvious.

“Don’t look away,” I say, staring up at him. I think that might be the key to this whole showing love business.

War doesn’t look away. Not as he grasps my hips, his fingers slick against my skin, and not as he fits the head of his cock at my entrance. His eyes are on mine as he thrusts inside me, hard enough to make me gasp.

We’ve stared plenty at each other when we’ve had sex, but tonight, it’s charged. Maybe it’s that we both have simply been missing each other, but just the sight and feel of him leaves me breathless. My heart is galloping in my chest, and it’s almost entirely from this thing between us.

I can so easily imagine it—loving War. Spending the rest of my life in these arms of his.

His cock throbs inside me, so thick that I can feel every twitch and pulse of it. Gently, he withdraws.

“My wife, you are everything I never knew I wanted,” he says, thrusting back into me.

Again that giddy flutter. Again that unease at my runaway emotions.

War leans in and kisses me, and everything about it is tender and so unlike my aggressive horseman.

“Forgive me,” he whispers against my lips. “Forgive me, Miriam.”

The warlord is achingly gentle, each stroke of his hips a plea. He’s making love to me, and he doesn’t even know it, so desperate is he for my forgiveness.

“Harder,” I say, because I’m suddenly in very real threat of feeling something I had no intention of feeling tonight. I was supposed to show him love, not the other way around.

And yet War shakes his head and keeps his thrusts soft, loving. His eyes are trained on mine, just as I instructed him. Only now, this whole experience has slipped out of my control. My heart is still hammering away, and my stomach is still doing funny things.

No, no, no, no, no.

But I’m pinned under that look, and I’m being lured in by those eyes, which look so kind, so sad right now.

His eyes are telling me what his words haven’t.

I love you.

The rest of his body is good at talking too. Every touch feels like worship, every thrust feels like a promise. This is all spinning wildly out of my control, and Goddamnit, his gaze is still pinned on me. Why did I ask him not to look away? I can’t escape what’s in his eyes. I’m melting to it, and I really, really don’t want to.

I can feel myself building … building … building …

“War—”

I come then, staring into his face, my lips parting in surprise as my orgasm crashes through me.

I see his own expression sharpen as his cock thickens inside me an instant later. And then he’s coming on the wings of my own climax, the two of us locked in this strange synchrony.

Our orgasms seem to last an eternity, the two of us staring at each other as we ride them out.

This is something new, something more than cut and dry sex. I can’t deny it,