Page 42 of Master of Storms
He couldn’t help himself. “The one where you’re going to throw your sister into my lap and try to ignore the fact you nearly let me kiss you the other day.”
“Kiss you?”
“Yes.” He ripped the towel away and started into the water. “Kissed me. You thought about it, Solveig. Your gaze dropped to my lips, and the look in your eyes wasn’t cold. Not at all. You want to know why? Because I’m not scared of you or your ice.” He was knee deep in the water, wading toward her. “And that’s what you want, deep down inside. You want someone who’s going to fight for you. You want someone who’s not afraid to toss you over his shoulder and make you see sense.”
“I don’t want to be mated!” she yelled.
“Neither do I!” he yelled back. “But if I’m going to be forced into this, then you—”
“Don’t you dare say it!”
She hooked a boot behind his ankle and he went down with a crash, slamming into the water.
And then she was on him.
Solveig grabbed for him, tangling her fist in his hair. She rose above him in the water, clearly intending to shove his head under.
The problem was that the weight imbalance between them worked in his favor. He clasped his arms around her waist and surged upright, intending to prove how useless the endeavor was.
Except, all of a sudden he found himself with an armful of wet, writhing female, and her white cotton shirt clung to her like a second skin. The dusky tips of her nipples showed through it, and one of her buttons had torn loose.
And they were right in his face.
“Jesus.” He trapped her in his arms, and then they were face-to-face.
“What’s wrong, Marduk?” Every inch of her tone was scorn, but he could taste her breath on his lips. “Surely, you’ve seen breasts before.”
“Not yours.”
“Never mine.”
“Mmm.” He didn’t let her go, as he sank halfway beneath the water. “You’re the one with your arms around my neck.”
“All the better to throttle you with.”
She didn’t move.
Neither did he.
Marduk’s gaze dropped to her mouth. This was the most destructive idea he’d ever had, but he could feel every inch of her lean form draped over him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded breathlessly.
“What does it look like?” he growled, capturing her chin and leaning down to consume her. “I plan on finishing what we started the other day. I plan on kissing you.”
* * *
Solveig frozeas Marduk’s lips inched toward hers.
She’d been kissed before. She was no trembling virgin—she’d taken care of that at the age of seventeen with the son of one of her father’s allies. It wasn’t until the morning after, as she tried to extricate herself from his bed—whilst he professed his undying fervor—that she realized future bedmates needed to be chosen carefully.
No ties.
No clingy, very-protective males.
Female lovers were always far easier to contend with.
But this was the first time she’d allowed a male to make this decision. Unless she was feeling a particular itch, she generally ignored them, and they stayed away.
