Page 62 of Storm of Desire
Soft breathy gasps proved to be torture. She'd sound like that as he fucked his way into her, her head thrown back, and....No.
He needed tofocus.
Árdís groaned, pressing her cheek into the bedroll. "If I'd known this was what you intended, I wouldn't haveargued."
"You can't helpyourself."
She laughed, and that too was pure torture. He loved the sound of herlaughter.
Haakon twitched her skirts higher. The simple fact of the matter was that her calves were not the part of her that was aching. Running his palms over the backs of her knees, he quested higher, each movement a little slower, as if it asked aquestion.
Árdís's entire bodymeltedbeneath histouch.
He pushed into the soft muscle at the back of her thighs with his thumbs. Árdís moaned, her fingers curling into the blankets. If there'd been even a hint of sexual pleasure in the sound, he might have been unable to resist, but the sound was pure surrender. Begging of a differentkind.
"Sweet goddess," she breathed, turning pliant and helpless beneath him. "You don't know how good thatfeels."
Haakon kneaded tender muscles, rolling his knuckles across her bottom as he teased out every ache and pain. Then clasping one thigh in both hands and stroking his thumbs and fingers up her soft skin. Árdís lay undone beneath him, making soft helplessnoises.
Fuck.
His thumbs skated up the inside of her thighs and she flinched, as if it hurt there the most. Warm molten skin shivered beneath his palms, and he pictured his thumbs sliding up, up, into the shadowy depths of her inner thighs. She'd be wet there. And her legs would part, just another inch or two, if he dared doit.
But this wasn't the first time he'd denied his own pleasure when it came to getting what he wanted fromher.
Haakon slowly dragged his fingertips down her bare thighs, before he bowed his head, and stopped touchingher.
Breathing hard, he rested over her on all fours, his knuckles pressing into the blankets on either side of her skirts. Firelight glimmered on the bare skin of her legs. He wanted to grab her by the hips and drag her up onto her hands andknees.
Or bury his face between her thighs, and lick his wayup.
The thought wrapped velvet hands around his cock, a flush of heat spreading through his balls. Seven years without the touch of a woman. Seven years withouthertouch.
He was only aman.
"Why are you stopping?" shewhispered.
Because I'm about to lose mymind.
Or all sense ofcontrol.
Somehow he reared up onto his knees, and climbed to his feet. "Because we're donehere."
Even he heard the gruff tone of hisvoice.
Árdís rolled over onto her bottom, her skirts rucked around her thighs as she stared up at him. Firelight picked out the golden streaks through her hair, and flickered in her amber eyes. Her lips were flushed and full. Slightly parted. The press of her nipples against her dress drew his eye, but he forced himself to look away, wiping his hands clean on an old rag. Trying to think of something else—anything else—other than the feel of her skin beneath hispalms.
"Thank you," Árdís said verysoftly.
"You're welcome," he muttered, dragging his cloak around him, and discreetly rearranging hiscock.
"Where are you going?" Árdís demanded, rolling onto herside.
He'd never wanted to touch anything in his life more than he wanted to touch her in thatmoment.
"For a walk," he said, and turned into the darkness of the night, staggering blindly as his eyesightadjusted.
And hopefully a coolswim.
