Page 102 of Storm of Fury
Solveig gasped, sounding so much like meek Aslaug he had to look twice. Red burned through her cheeks. "What iswrongwith you?"
"Product of our circumstances, I'm afraid."
"Product of our—?"
His hands dropped to her thighs, and he tried to ease her weight from his aching cock. "Are you planning to get off me? Or would you prefer to repeat everything I say?"
She sat frozen.
Eyes bulging, and her fingers tangled into claws in his shirt as if she didn't dare move.
What an absolute delight. He'd finally found something to shut her up. Fierce Solveig, with her tart mouth and narrow-eyed glares, couldn't cope with the sensation of his erection.
"Unless you want me to mate you in truth?" he breathed, feeling an odd, perplexing twist of need deep in his abdomen. If he shifted half an inch, they'd be lined up perfectly. He could almost scent her arousal. Her—
"I would rather kiss a wyrm!"
But her heart was beating rapidly, and her eyes darted as if she didn't know what to do.
"Really?" he purred. "Because you don’t seem to be in any hurry to get off me.”
Solveig paused, her expression taking on a considering slant. Eyes narrowing, she put her face right in his. “And here I thought fucking me would be akin to putting your cock in a bear trap.”
“I apologized for that,” he growled. “I was drunk, and we’d spent all day arguing. It was a slip of the tongue when in my cups—”
“And every warrior in my court knows the entire cursed poem,” she snarled. “I despise you. You’re the most hateful, arrogant, worthless wyrm I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re akin to a harpy.” His voice rose. “I don’t know what your father was thinking. We’d kill each other within the month.”
“A month is a generous assessment,” she snapped. “And I think he was thinking that he had signed a contract with your court and intended to honor it, despite the way you slunk off like a whipped cur last time.”
“Whipped cur?” His temper roused. “You threatened to kill me.”
“You deserved to die!”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and lower, to where her breasts heaved against her shirt. Hisdrekifluttered within him, craving the taste of her mouth.Don’t you dare.
“Nothing to say to that?” she growled. “Perhaps you can’t say anything because a lie can’t cross your tongue. TheSaduclan have always honored their contracts—as I will do now, regardless of my feelings—while your worthless—”
Marduk grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her down.
"What—?"
He kissed her.
The second their mouths met, he realized his mistake. Solveig gasped, her claws sinking into his chest. Biting his lip, she growled deep in her throat.
He bit back.
And then her tongue was thrusting into his mouth, her hands tearing his shirt open. Marduk threw his head back, offering her the vulnerable flex of his throat as she bit at his chin. Sharp teeth grazed his throat.
“Curse you,” she whispered. And then she was claiming his mouth again, her tongue lashing against his.
Every inch of him fired with need. Thedrekiwithin him pushed against the cage of his flesh, demanding release. Sliding a hand down the flexible curve of her spine, Marduk grabbed a handful of her ass and drove her against him.
This was what came of all those arguments.
This was what happened when two storms drove against each other, battering and lashing at each other’s defenses. There could be no surcease, no quarter. Only the overriding urge to claim.
