Black Moon Draw by Lizzy Ford

wrong.
    He releases the strap and spins me, gripping the shield and tugging it back and forth. I careen from side to side before catching my balance against the wall.
    “Your shield is on wrong. Damn squire.” Reaching around me, he works the button securing the shield beneath my breasts.
    I suck in a breath, distracted by the movement of his fingers and a little too aware of the body at my back. I can feel his heat and strength, inches from me, and remind myself of how much I don’t need an arrogant jerk in my life.
    He stops jostling me for a moment, his hand settling at the base of my neck. “What are the three laws of Black Moon Draw?” he asks.
    “Truth, loyalty, obedience,” I repeat breathlessly. I can’t help imagining what those large hands would feel like on other parts of my body. He’s so strong, so confident. The feminine side of me loves the idea of melting into him, of letting him control the movement of my body and exploring every inch of me.
    He succeeds in unbuttoning the shield and pulls it off me then whirls me around once more. I want to tell him to stop manhandling me, but nothing comes out. The man is huge and it’s hard to think straight with his brownies scent scattering my thoughts. Instead, I stare at his muscular chest as he untangles the straps and flips the shield around.
    I lift my arms before he can belt another of his commands and he slides the shield back into place, fastening it beneath my breasts.
    The simple process is exhilarating, better than sex with Jason, which really isn’t saying much. It leaves me rattled, breathless, achy, and warm from the inside out. The knight appears as though he’s done something as routine as saddling his horse.
    He’s betrothed, I warn myself. Not to mention he’s kind of a control-freak-jackass.
    Like Christian Grey?
    Oh, god. That overrides any fear - I so want him right now. Furious with myself, I focus on my chant. This isn’t real . I can’t lust after an imaginary man.
    “Now. What are these?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the coins with the intricate carvings.
    The harmless tokens are easier to explain than say, my feelings right now. It takes effort to refocus from the images of his naked body to the coins. “They’re my treasures,” I say and take them from him. I drop the coins in one hand and trace my fingertips over the carved face of one. I’m kind of grateful for the distraction. He’s standing too close to me. I’m horny as hell. The timing of my hormones couldn’t be worse.
    “You claim them readily?” he asks.
    “Yes. They’re mine.”
    He’s gone hard once more, unreadable, and there’s a dangerous light in his gaze that makes the fear return.
    “I’m not . . . attached to them, if you want them,” I add uneasily, not understanding the issue.
    “From whence did you obtain these treasures?” His voice is low, dark.
    “I found them,” I reply, frowning.
    Too late, I hear the words I used earlier when lying about the medallion. He snatches my arm and hauls me into his hard body, reaching back for the axe with his other arm.
    “No, really! I mean it this time – I really did find them!” I exclaim quickly. “The Red Knight left me alone in his wagon and I went through his satchels. I took these and a really fat bird he had stuffed in a bag!” I wait, heart flying and panic stirring. The coins are clenched in one fist while I brace myself against the warm skin of his chest with my other hand.
    Pressed to his body, I can feel how strong he is, silk-coated steel, and it’s scary. It would take so little effort for him to crush me the way he does his enemies. Fear devolves into something more vexing. My mind is racing with a scene from Fifty Shades , where I’m bent over and he’s spanking me good and hard before he completely rocks my world.
    Stop it, Naia!
    “I swear. I’m not breaking your rules,” I add, unable to read his expression. “I took them because I thought they were