Page 104 of Storm of Fury
“Fuck.” A reluctant moan was torn from her. “You son of a bitch.”
But she didn’t stop him, and he could sense that her attention was no longer on the knife.
“Put the blade down,” he told her, “and we’ll finish this.”
“Never.”
He bit her nipple and then suckled it into his mouth.
Solveig moaned. "Oh, gods. Marduk!"
One of her hands slid down his back, her nails raking into the skin beneath his shirt, and then her thighs locked around his hips.
He fucked his hips against her slowly, feeling the heated core of her align perfectly with his throbbing cock. Thedrekiwithin him hissed, demanding more as she moaned his name and begged for more.
“Let go of the knife, Solveig.”
There was a heatedneverin her eyes. And then she used her hips to roll them, coming up panting atop him, the knife trailing down his throat. Every inch of her demanded his capitulation.
But he’d been playing these games since he was a lad.
And sometimes surrender was nothing more than a means to control the board. Only for her would he allow himself to be flat on his back, his throat splayed bare for her to take it, if she desired.
“Go ahead,” he whispered. “You have me at your mercy.”
She liked that. Biting her lip, she rode his cock, the knife trailing down his collarbone and slicing through the thin material of his shirt. The tip of it paused over his sternum.
“My heart.” The muscles in his abdomen flexed, for he could see the indecision in her eyes. Digging his thumb into her thigh, he forced her to meet his gaze. “You’ll never have it.”
Solveig leaned down. “What makes you think I want it? Except bloody and locked in a chest.”
He laughed and drove his erection against her. Shoving his hand beneath her waistband, he found her wet and slick, and—
Then hissing as she shoved at him.
The sudden surge of fight in her startled him, until the door slammed open.
Tormund, Bryn and Haakon burst inside.
"What the hell?" Marduk demanded, heat blazing through his eyes as thedrekiwithin him turned to face a threat against its female.
He was crouched over her, snarling, almost like some newly-mated male.
Haakon cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "We heard someone crying out."
"Well, it wasn't me!" he growled, and had the ridiculous notion he'd like to throw them out of the room and continue what he'd been about.
A palm slammed against his chest."Get off me!"Solveig snarled, right in his head. She tried to sit up, dragging the remnants of her shirt closed. The knife was still in her hand.
"Well," Tormund said, his eyebrows hitting the edge of his hairline. "'Tis a good thing we came to rescue you from this vicious, squalling hellcat." He cleared his throat. "It's time to go. Unless... you'd care for us to come back later?"
An excellent idea.
What?
No!
"Maybe an hour?" Haakon suggested, rubbing at his not-quite smothered smile.
