Page 143 of Master of Storms
“When I was a little boy I used to test my wings. I would shoot straight into the sky, trying to capture a star. I would fly as high as I could, desperate to reach it, until the air grew too thin and my wings started to fail. You’re my star, Solveig. And maybe I won’t ever have you, but I’ll never stop trying to reach you.Never.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple. Let me tell you my secret,” he breathed, the hot flush of pleasure sliding down his spine like a woman’s fingertip. He kissed the tip of her nose, trying not to explode. “I’m glad I met you. I’m so fucking glad. Becausethisis real. And I’m not afraid to surrender to it.” He thrust shallowly, trying to contain himself. “You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever touched. You’re my star, Solveig, and I finally caught you.”
She kissed him.
And then there was no more chance of restraining himself.
He came with a gasp, thrusting his way into her slowly. He wanted the moment to last forever.
Rain slicked her skin. Both of them panted for breath as he collapsed atop her.
“I’m not scared of you, Solveig,” he whispered. “I’m not going to tuck tail and run, just because you’re frightened of what’s happening between us. I don’t know what this is, but I intend to ride the storm until it either dashes us upon the rocks, or kicks us out into sunny, blue skies. Because you’re the adventure I’ve been looking for all my life. You’remine, and I’m not letting go.”
“Let me tell you a secret,” she whispered.
His heart skipped a beat, because she was looking at him with her soul stripped bare. “What?”
Teeth sank into her lip. “I don’t want you to let me go,” she blurted. “I don’t ever want you to let me go.”
And the feeling that swept through him was more pleasurable than the greatest orgasm. “Good.” He nuzzled at her lips again, lacing his fingers through hers. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
The storm blew in,wild and whipping.
Marduk swept her into his arms and carried her back to their rooms.
The second he’d kicked the door shut, he was on her. Again. He would have to leave in an hour. Maybe two. If this was his last chance to love her, then he was going to slake every ounce of his desire on her willing flesh.
He pushed her back against the wall and kissed her, long and slow and drugging. Stripping her trousers and boots from her, until she wore only her shirt.
“Make it hard,” she whispered, inching those fingernails up his abdomen. “Make it hurt a little. Make mescream. Let us make war.”
War. He liked that. And maybe this would always be the way they found some form of peace.
But he also wanted it softer.
He wanted her to beg.
He wanted to make love to her too.
“Mmm.” He hauled the slap of his belt free of its loops. “As my queen commands.”
And then he hauled her wrists together into one fist, and looped the belt around them. He carried her to the bed and tied her there.
Solveig squirmed. “What are you doing?”
“Capturing the enemy. I’m going to make her scream.”
He slapped her lightly between the thighs.
A gasp stole from her lips.
He watched as shock stole over her expression, a creeping tide of red. And then she was glaring at him as if she wanted to rip his heart out of his chest.
A dangerous reckless laugh tore through him. “Of course, you like that.”
