Page 179 of War

I can give it a try. You know, all in the name of make-up sex.

Swallowing down my nerves, I take his hand and lead him to his pallet. Outside, I hear the torches hiss and pop, and in the distance, someone laughs. But it all seems so very removed from this moment.

I reach up for War’s shoulders and push him down onto the bed. He watches me as he lowers himself, letting me take the lead.

I follow him down, maneuvering myself so I’m straddling his waist. I lean over War and I stare into his eyes and remember every good thing he has ever done—from saving Zara’s nephew to not raising the dead that one time. I remember all those instances where he saved my own life, and how today he came for me when I was sick.

I stare into those violent eyes until I see them thaw. And now I run my hands over the planes of his face, my thumbs dragging over his kohl-lined eyes until the black makeup is smudged. Leaning down, I kiss him—softly first, but then gradually harder and deeper.

I don’t know if I’m doing this right. I don’t really knowhowto 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 whisperingwifeover 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 wholeshowing lovebusiness.

Wardoesn’tlook 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 thisthingbetween 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.Iwas supposed to showhimlove, 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.