Page 66 of Storm of Fury
Pure, utter oblivion.
And then his hands were playing lower, fingers finding her hot and slick. Bryn broke the kiss, breathing hard as she rested her lips against his forehead. He eased one finger inside her, and she bit her lip at the surety of his touch. This was a man who knew how to please a woman.
Tormund’s wet mouth closed over her nipple, as he stroked her within, his thumb settling over that little nubbin that brought her so much pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned, undulating against his hand.
The suckle of his mouth seemed to tug on some string inside her that was tied directly to her womb. Gods, it felt amazing. And she was close. So close.
Lightning flashed again as he pushed her over the edge.
Bryn came with a scream, her fist clenching in his hair as she threw her head back. The storm echoed her passion, thunder shaking across the horizon. Lightning kissed its heels, not once, not twice, but thrice, until it felt as though the skies themselves joined her climax.
Shaking with relief, she came back to herself in his arms, her nails imprinting in the hard muscle of his shoulders.
Their eyes met as Bryn tried to regain some modicum of rational thought.
She felt torn open, ravaged deep, her heart an aching, bruised mess as she trailed the fingers of her right hand gently over his cheek. And she wanted him to feel the same as she met his mouth for another hot, wet kiss.
Until he shuddered and pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers. “No.”
No?“What the hell do you mean?”
Was that her voice, so hard and rasping?
A soft smile chased over his lips. “I’m going to hate myself for saying this, but perhaps we should get out of the water.”
Tormund looked up, taking in the flickering skies.
She slid a hand down the back of his neck. “The lightning won’t hit us.”
“I’ve been in storms before, and that looked awfully—”
She cupped both hands behind his head, desperate to ride the storm. “It won’t hit us. I swear by all the gods. Now kiss me, you fool. Or see your chance lost forever.”
Tormund kissed her.
Firm hands cupped her ass, and then he was grinding her against him, the slick length of his cock fitting perfectly between her thighs. Right where she wanted it.
Bryn bit her lip and slid her hand between them, her fingers wrapping around his erection.
“You’re so perfect,” he growled, biting her lower lip. “So fucking beautiful. Brave. Loyal. Powerful. And mine, Bryn. All mine.”
Brave. Loyal.
He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d stabbed a knife in her chest.
A gasp went through her and then she was shoving away from him, the hot flash of her gaze warning him not to follow. Gods, what was she thinking? What was she doing?
She was here for her own purposes. For Solveig’s. The second the dawn broke, he’d know all of it.
“Don’t say those words.”
Tormund’s brow furrowed in confusion as she strode through the water. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
Nothing. You did nothing.Except remind me of the truth. Bryn shook her head. “I’m not yours. I will never be yours, nor you mine. And though one day you may not think it of me, I truly don’t want to break your heart.”
He surged toward her, as determined as ever. “That’s not your choice to make. It’s my heart to give as I so wish. My heart to break.”
