Page 105 of Quicksilver
He laughed but took another step forward. “You think very highly of yourself then, don't you?”
“I know that you want me.” I didn't step back, even though my body was screaming at me that I should.
“I can want to fuck you and still hate you, Little Osha.”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the heat in his eyes. “No. That's not it.”
One more step, and he'd be standing chest-to-chest with me again. “What is it, then?”
“There's something...betweenus. You know there is.”
“Sure you're not imagining things? Plenty of women fall prey to their own desperate fantasies where I'm concerned.”
“Just...stop, all right. Enough! The moment you fuck me, things are going to change between us.”
“Sure. I'll have scratched a perverse little itch. I'll be able to move on with my life.” His lips parted, and the sight of his sharp canines sent a rush of warmth directly between my legs.
“You want to bite me,” I whispered.
“Hah!” He threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, you have noideawhat kind of tightrope you're balancing on right now, do you?”
“You nearly did it. Back in your tent. You scratched me with your teeth. You drew fucking blood!!”
The small amount of space between us disappeared in an instant. Fisher's hand closed around my throat, fury carved into the lines of his handsome face. “Careful,”he growled. “It's dangerous to speak so flippantly about things you donotunderstand.”
“Then explain it to me. Show me,” I panted.
His anger faltered. “What?”
“Show me.Makeme understand. Prove to me that I'm wrong.”
“Stupid, idiotic human...”
I had no business saying anything more. It was perilous, provoking a male like Fisher. This could go awry all too easily. But this was all going to end in tears no matter what, and after what I'd seen tonight, waiting for us all on the other side of the river, I didn't plan on dying without at least testing this theory. “I'm telling you tofuckme, Fisher. I'm asking you to—”
His lips crashed down on mine. He stole my words, claiming my mouth with a ragged snarl. The kiss was incendiary. The moment I tasted him and felt his tongue sweep past my teeth, I whimpered, grabbing the bottom of his shirt.
No more sniping at each other.
No more thinly veiled innuendo.
No more threats.
This was happening because I wanted it to happen.
I tore Fisher's shirt up and had to raise my arms over my head to even get the damned thing half-way off him. He broke the kiss for a split second, ripping the smokey material over his head. The second it left his hand, he fell on me again, his mouth claiming mine so thoroughly that I didn't know which way was up. His movements weren't fumbling like mine were. His hands were sure and steady as he grabbed the collar of my shirt and ripped it from my body. Without the corsets and stays of the dresses Everlayne had made me wear in the Winter Palace, I'd taken to binding my breasts with fabric as I'd done at home. Fisher made a disgruntled noise when he saw the material wrapped around my ribcage. I lifted my arms, expecting him to unwind it as quickly as he could, but no. He trailed his index finger down the front of the material, between my breast, and the fabric split apart, disintegrating under his touch.
My breasts sprang free, my nipples peaking, and Fisher groaned, taking the weight of them in his palms. He kneaded the flesh, cursing, his eyes feasting on my chest. Had he thought about me like this? Naked and at his mercy? Had he imagined what it would be like to touch me, and taste me, and have me willing to do his bidding?
I was guilty of letting my imagination run away with me. I'd pretended it wasn't his hands I wanted on my body when I touched myself. I'd tricked myself into believing it wasn't his knowing smirk that haunted my dreams. But it was. And now he was standing in front of me, shirtless, the packed muscle of his chest glistening with sweat, ink everywhere, spiraling around his torso, and I couldn't believe we'd finally arrived here.
The cards had been on the table for a while now. We were either going to kill each other or fuck each other, and I was glad we were both opting for the latter option.
Fisher's eyes flared as he grabbed the front of my pants by the waistband and pulled me roughly to him. “You asked for this.When you're sore from coming so hard and you can't recall your own name, rememberthat, Little Osha.”
He held my gaze as he yanked open my pants and shoved them down my thighs. His gaze was as heavy as a sword's edge, resting against my throat, sharp enough to cut. He shoved his right hand between my legs and grabbed me by the throat with the other, startling the shit out of me.
I would have gasped when he tore my underwear to one side and plunged his fingers into the molten wet heat of my core, but his hand closed around my windpipe, stealing my ability to breathe. Like some dark-haired, foreboding fallen angel, Kingfisher purred as he plunged his fingers up inside me.
