Page 51 of What Fury Brings
Olerra cocked her head to the side. “Did Atalius teach you that?”
“My mother.”
That brought Olerra up short. She couldn’t imagine the dynamic between the Brutish king and his queen. They must not get on well at all.
“You tried to strike me at breakfast,” she said.
“You deserved it then.”
“And now I don’t?”
“You do.”
“Then why?”
He was such a puzzle, and she was so excited that he was finally speaking to her.
“I will beat you as the man I made myself, not the monster my father created.”
What had Atalius done to him?Why did the Brute hold himself in check?What did he think would happen if he let himself face her with his full strength?
Andrastus neared slowly, trying to back her into a corner and increase his chances of getting ahold of her. She didn’t let that happen. Quick as a flash, she jolted forward, grabbed him around the knees, and tossed him over her head.
It wasn’t easy. He was heavier than anyone she had ever fought before. But she could do it. Her strength was enough.
Years and years of tension seemed to melt off her. She’d worried about anyone learning her secret, but her natural strength was enough. She likely wouldn’t win against him in an arm wrestling match. But like this? Weighing their skills against each other? She could do this.
That confidence bolstered her as she threw him onto the floor.
The breath rushed out of him, giving her time to spin around, straddle him, pin down his arms, and lower her face until they were only half a foot apart.
She was high on her victory, on the knowledge of her own strength. She forgot that this was meant to be disciplining him.
“I’m sorry things had to go this way,” she said to him. “Would you like to hear what I had planned if you passed my test?”
He still couldn’t draw in air, so she continued. “If you didn’t try to escape tonight, I was going to let you service me. Doesn’t that sound much more fun than this?”
Andrastus processed the words slowly, as though he didn’t grasp their meaning at first. When he finally did, his nostrils flared, and the breath finally rushed back into him. He wiggled an arm free, grabbed her hip, and spun them, pinning her between him and the floor.
It was not, necessarily, a bad place to be in. When Olerra imagined herself having sex, she always pictured herself on top, but snug against Andrastus’s sculpted frame from beneath had a certain appeal, too, she could see.
“Stop that,” he said.
“Stop what?”
“You’re ogling.”
She met his eyes. “I can’t help it. You’re a very attractive man. You make me wish I was naked right now.”
The whites of his eyes were more visible than ever before. “You keep saying wildly ridiculous things.”
“Is it ridiculous to yearn for the man I’ve chosen to be my husband? Would you rather I didn’t desire you?”
She shifted her hips ever so slightly from underneath him, and Andrastus let out a breath of air that caused a shiver to race down her spine. He adjusted his stance, letting one of his knees slide up between her legs to press against her sex.
Gods, yes. That was where she wanted him. But more important—
She reached up with her legs to wrap them around his waist, and then she sent him sailing toward the floor. In another heartbeat, she had her arms around his neck, cutting off his air supply. It was just as her instructors had said. You could always distract a man with sex to win.
