Page 64 of Storm of Fury
Thought fled. Rational argument evaporated. Bryn moaned a little as every inch of her went slack. She’d never realized how much tension she carried in the muscles that banded her skull. Fingers delved into her hair, tracing firm circles over her scalp. It felt amazing.
“Murgh.”
“What was that?” The rumble of his voice sounded dangerously close to her ear.
“Don’t stop.” She tilted her head back and surrendered.
“I told you my hands were magic.”
It felt so good she couldn’t even reply to that comment.
His hands were amazing. He kneaded her scalp until she was resting her head back on his shoulder, careless of his embrace. She didn’t know how long it lasted, only that she was a sated, breathless mess when he finally finished.
Tormund cleared his throat. “I think I’m in danger of crossing that invisible line between us.”
“What invisible line?” she murmured, her eyes closed.
“The one that says ‘cross at your own peril’ whenever you glare at me. The one that says ‘keep your hands to yourself.’”
Bryn opened her eyes slowly. His hands rested on her hips. And there was a question in the placement of them, one he was waiting for her to answer.
Bryn’s breath caught. He wouldn’t be her first conquest. Nor would he be her last. And she was no shy maid. When it came to members of the opposite sex, she took what she wanted and left them grateful behind her.
But she felt strangely hesitant to pursue this with Tormund.
In the distance, thunder rumbled.
The ring in her shirt pocket burned a guilty hole in her heart. She’d found Marduk, as Solveig had demanded. Now all she had to do was summon the warlord princess and her task was complete.
She would have everything she’d ever wanted. Absolution. The loving embrace of her sister Valkyrie. The chance to finally see her mother’s grave marker and lay her mother’s sword to rest there.
Home. The ache of it was so sharp.
Almost as sharp as the sting of her forthcoming betrayal.
“You want me,” she whispered.
“It’s no secret,” Tormund replied, and his voice was rough-edged with need. “The second I saw you, I knew you were for me—"
“You barely know me.” This time her words came sharply, and Bryn pushed out of his grasp, spinning around. “I could be your doom. Your death. I could be sent to betray you. I could be fate’s cold, bitter kiss.”
“None of it matters.” He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek, and Bryn sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation of his touch. “If you are my fate, then I surrender to whatever it has in store for me, for never was a future so beautiful and fierce.”
His thumb stroked the lush fullness of her lower lip.
He’d never crossed that line. Not yet.
And he waited now, for an answer she must give before he would push himself over it.
She bowed her head, closing her eyes. He would hate her when he finally realized what she was. “I will be your ruin.”
“Then ruin me.” The rasp of his breath sent shivers across her skin.
A rumble of thunder shivered across the skies, and Bryn kept her eyes closed, knowing they would gleam with jagged silver. That thumb splayed across her lip, back and forth, tempting her in ways she’d never felt before.
So be it.
She’d warned him enough times.
