His eyes narrowed.

“Right,” she continued. She eased onto the couch. “There’s no reason to go to so much trouble for me.”

He sat beside her, lifted her, and placed her on his lap, forcing her to straddle him. “I’ll decide the amount of trouble you’re worth.”

Okay, that was kind of (seriously) sweet. And her new position was kind of (out of this world) hot. “Yes, well, we’re supposed to be booty-calling each other,” she said, lazily grinding on him, making him gasp, “and, yes, I turned a noun into a verb. We aren’t supposed to be living with each other.”

He sifted his fingers through her hair, stopped at her nape and fisted. “Living together makes it easier to booty-call.”

A laugh bubbled up, but it emerged as a moan of pleasure. “You lived with Kendra, and look what happened to her.”

“You aren’t trying to enslave me.”

“That wasn’t what you said last week.”

He stiffened. “I knew I wasn’t forgiven for that, either.”

She nipped his bottom lip between her teeth. “You, the king of grudges, are one to talk. But, yes, you are forgiven. I mean that with every fiber of my being.” Lowering her voice to a seductive whisper, she added, “I already had my revenge, remember?”

The pulse in his neck thumped harder, faster.

“But, Thane...I still think it’ll be better if, from now on, we are friends rather than lovers.” Better, but probably impossible.

His eyes narrowed. “Better for whom?”

“Me. You. I’ll be leaving soon, and—”

He cut her off, saying, “We will be friends and lovers, and that’s final.”

“Deal.”

His eyes narrowed. “You just talked me around to exactly what you wanted all along, didn’t you?” Before she could reply, he added, “So you will let me inside your body, but you will not live with me?”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

He stood, and her legs glided to the floor. The look he gave her...lightning unleashed, fully charged, making her tingle and ache and heat another ten degrees.

“You want sex, nothing more?”

No. “Yes.” Oh, she didn’t know.

“Very well,” he said tightly. “Ask, and you shall receive.” He picked her up and carried her to his room—where he promptly dumped her on the bed. She would have bounced upon impact, but he was on her before she could, his lips claiming hers in a savage kiss. Tongue thrusting. Mouth demanding. Stealing her breath and filling her lungs with his own. Sweeping her up into a haze of need, hunger...obsession.

Giving her a taste of what she could have—and then taking it away.

She moaned in disappointment as he tempered the kiss, exchanging raw passion for cold calculation. His tongue began to move with slow deliberation, as if he was no longer fueled by emotion. As if he cared nothing for her response, only for his own satisfaction.

“Do you like this?” He reached between their bodies and gave her breasts a perfunctory squeeze, then slid his hand lower and cupped her between her legs—without stroking the center of her need. Just held her, as if she were property. “Is it everything you hoped?”

The actions left her strangely hollow.

“Th-Thane?” she asked, unsure.

He lifted his head and stared down at her. His eyes were emptied of emotion, as well. “Quiet. My women aren’t allowed to speak.”

Hurt pierced her. “Then why did you ask me those questions?”

“Does it matter? And why are you complaining, anyway? This is what you wanted.”

She knew he was manipulating her, and wanted to be angry. But anger proved impossible. She’d clearly hurt him with her insistence, treated him as little more than a few-weeks-stand. “Yes, but I just thought—”

“I know what you thought.” He shut her up with another kiss. A slow, cold kiss.

She beat at his shoulders...his gorgeous shoulders, hard and strong and hot...then thought screw it, and yanked his robe—no, his shirt—over his head. Bare skin. Yes. Her nails scraped over his pecs, his nipples, and he hissed his approval.

“Give me what you gave me before,” she demanded.

“All?” he snarled. “Everything?”

“Yes. Okay. Yes.” She yanked him down for another kiss, and this time, she took control. She thrust her tongue deep and hard, and it wasn’t long before he responded, taking over. Giving her deeper. Harder. Her shirt received the same treatment as his, leaving her in her bra, but he made quick work of that, too, freeing her breasts from confinement.

As he kissed and licked his way to her ear, his big hands kneaded her and his thumbs brushed over her nipples. There was nothing perfunctory about it.

“Like this,” she said, and cried his name when he moved to the hammering pulse in her neck and sucked.

He wrenched from her and sat up, panting as he stared down at her. At her eyes, heavy and hooded. At her lips, parted and moist. Wanting. Maybe swollen. At her chest, heaving with the force of her breathing. At her belly, quivering.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he demanded.

“Yes!” She scraped her nails over the glorious cords of strength lining his stomach—and the goody trail of golden hair that led to the glistening tip of his shaft now peeking so proudly from the waist of his pants.

He pried her legs apart, creating the perfect cradle.

He eased on top of her, rubbing against her, sparking a dizzying kind of friction. Fire streamed through her, scorching everything in its path.

“It’s good,” she moaned.

“It can be better.” As he divided his attention between her nipples, kissing, flicking his tongue back and forth, she thrashed her head, getting lost in the rapturous sensations.

She was pulled as tight as a bow, her back arching involuntarily. She slid her hands under his wings. The muscles in his back were flexed, hard. Hers for the taking.

He glided his knuckles down her stomach, under her shorts. His hand was so big the tie at the waist ripped. Just before his fingers slid underneath her panties, he stopped.

“Hands burning,” he rasped.

Oh, yes. They were. The heat absorbed into her skin, infused her cells, and lit her up. “I know.”

“It’s the essentia.”

His strained tone... What was he trying to tell her? She couldn’t—