Chapter Fifty-One

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The room Queen Avaloni had given them was by far the largest, fanciest room Tanden had ever stayed in. But he hardly had a chance to enjoy it before Soren yanked him to the side and pinned him against the wall.

Tanden barely even had time to be startled before Soren's lips met his. Tanden pulled one of his hands free to wrap his arm around Soren's shoulders, holding him as close as possible. Caught up in the moment and Soren's intensity, it took some time before he came to his senses enough to break away from Soren's lips.

It didn't deter Soren, who swiftly shifted his attention to trail kisses down Tanden's jaw, along the new line of tattoos, to his neck. Tanden had always enjoyed it when Soren did that, and how he could change it from an act of devotion to dominance. This time, it was unmistakably an act of dominance, but Tanden wasn't quite sure he was in the mood for that.

He ran his hand into Soren's hair and gave it a light tug. Not enough to pull him off, just enough to grab his attention.

"So." Tanden tried to sound firm, but the word came out more of a mumble. "What's next, mate?"

"What's next?" Soren pulled back. But he was still so close, with his hands pressed against the wall on either side of Tanden. Still so physically in control. "Crele, sell the Walloxa, new barquentine. Why are you thinking about that?"

Tanden settled back against the wall. Soren's movement had dislodged his hand, so Tanden trailed his fingers down Soren's chest until they caught on his belt. "That isn't what I was asking."

Soren stared at him for a heartbeat, beautiful green eyes narrowed. "I'm out of practice, remember? Get to the point."

"Did you and Ara—"

"No. We both thought you were dead. He stayed with me, and we comforted each other. That's it."

Tanden nodded and watched his own fingers toy with Soren's belt buckle. "I'm surprised you lasted this long without tossing me onto a bed."

"Self-control is something you struggle with, not me," Soren said. He was obviously very aware of Tanden's fingers, Tanden could tell with how still he was holding himself. "Kuiavadox?"

Tanden shook his head. "I already told you that I didn't do anything. He was interested, but I told him I still missed my husband." He heard Soren's sharp inhale and grinned. "I don't say that word enough, do I?"

"Is there a reason you're delaying things?"

Tanden's fingers stopped fiddling with the belt buckle, and he looked up. "So much for being out of practice. It's just that I don't know what I want."

"I do."

"Know what you want? Yes, that's very clear." He slipped his fingers under Soren's belt, only to be surprised when Soren moved and grabbed his hand.

"No, I know what you want," Soren said. "You want me to carry you over to the bath, then undress you. You want us to get in the bath together, even though we both have wounds and it probably isn't the best idea. Then, you want me to tug you into bed. You want me to take care of you."

He was so accurate, but also so wrong. It was more complicated than that. "Soren—"

"But," Soren interrupted. "You're conflicted. Because you're intrigued about letting me really take control."

Tanden swallowed. Soren's quiet confidence was making it very difficult to think. "What does that mean?"

"I can be gentle and take care of you, which is what you need," Soren said. "Or I can be forceful and rough, which excites you."

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