Page 68 of Of Sword & Silver

Her ruined clothes fall on the floor, bruises blooming all over creamy thighs and hips, marks of a warrior. Kyrie’s back is a map of twisted scars, and it pains me to see the proof of her past written in her skin.

Her torso is too soaked with blood and muck to see much of anything. I force myself to work on removing my own boots, anticipation leaving me lightheaded.

When I look up, my breath catches in my throat.

Kyrie’s managed to slough off most of the blood and mud already, standing in waist-deep water. “Come on in,” she says breathlessly, her emerald eyes full of wonder and hot with a lust that reflects my own.

I’ve never seen anything as beautiful and wondrous as her naked, steam curling around her.

22

KYRIE

It’s hot. So hot.

The Sword is naked, and I’m on fire.

“Want you,” I say, dizzy with it. I rub soap in my hair, knowing it’s going to take forever to dry, but not wanting one more second of the manticore’s disgusting fluids on me.

Manticore.

A stabbing pain goes through my arm and I suck in a breath, moving my hair from the shoulder that’s suddenly throbbing again.

The Sword’s in front of me, and the pain recedes in the face of him.

Huge.

It doesn’t seem to matter how much time I spend with him, the fact that he’s practically twice the size of me hasn’t ceased to be impressive.

“I want you,” I say again, because gods, this need is all-consuming.

He’s naked. “I’m naked,” I tell him, running my hands down his wet chest.

“This isn’t right,” he says, tilting my chin up, staring into my eyes.

Gods, yes, he’s going to kiss me, I need him to kiss me… everywhere.

“You can start with my mouth, but if you don’t put your tongue between my legs, I’m going to die,” I tell him, and I mean every word.

Heat. Too hot. I’m on fire.

He’s not kissing me though, he’s staring at my eyes, his own expression growing cold and distant.

“Kiss me,” I order, sobbing on the words. “You have to.”

“Gods damn it all, Kyrie,” he swears. “Your pupils are blown. No wonder… I am a fucking fool.”

“No, please, I need it, you don’t understand.”

“I do understand,” he says savagely. “I see exactly what’s gotten into you, Silver Tongue.”

“I want you to get in me,” I plead, reaching for my powers, trying to convince him. I come up emptyhanded. There’s nothing there. I’m all out. “Deep in me.”

“Fucking hells, woman.” He pulls my long, wet hair from my shoulder, and I nearly scream as his fingers run over the tender spot, choking on it instead. “The manticore stung you.”

“I don’t care, just fuck me, please, please, I need it.”

“You don’t want me,” he shakes his head. “This is how the poison works. It’s numbing the pain by lighting up other parts of your body, and then it will kill you while you’re distracted, or your heart will give out.”

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