Something akin to a snarl met her refusal, like the sound a deadly predator makes before attacking his next victim. He yanked her hair, hard, slight pain shooting through her as he dove for her lips again. “Give. Me. Your fucking. Mouth.”
“Make me,” she challenged, her mind and body conflicted, on the verge of shutting down from the heat of his body and the intensity of his gaze.
He growled, shoving her hard onto his erection, “Youwillobey me, wildling,” then crushed his lips to hers before throwing her into a pool of water.
Waves of warmth washed over Nyra as her head plunged below the surface, enveloping her in a soothing embrace. For a brief moment in time, she forgot where she was, the sensation so sublime, her tired muscles weeping with joy. Her lungs protested, pleading with her to take in much needed oxygen.
Her head burst from the surface, only to see the mountain of a warrior staring down at her, a big smirk on his stupidly smug face.
“I swear to you,” she hissed, glaring at him, her chin still lowered in the water, “I will break your fucking limbs if you come anywhere near me right now.”
His smirk widened, eyes glinting with mischief. “Don’t tempt me, little vixen. Violence makes my dick hard.”
Of course it does, sadistic maniac.
He cocked his head, a wide smile spreading across his handsome features, causing Nyra’s breath to catch as she wordlessly stared back at him. It was blinding, the smile like a knife to her chest, so painfully beautiful that she cursed the heavens for her bad luck.
Of all the times that she could have met such a rare specimen of the male population, it had to be now, while she was hunting for a beast that would kill her the very instant it sighted her, thus ending any possibilitiesfor this attraction that was brewing between them blossoming into something more substantial.
She winced, taken aback by her train of thought.What the hell are you thinking? He’s an arrogant, condescending barbarian and most likely whores himself all over the kingdom. You’d be just another notch on his bedpost.
“No, Nyra, you’d be the last one.”
Sure that she had said her thoughts out loud, she watched his face fall, all the humor gone, replaced once again by his usual glowering demeanor.
“Wash up, I’m going to prepare you some food. And then, I’ll tell you a story.”
Before she could protest, he was already walking away, only his imposing shadow now visible as he stalked out of sight.
CHAPTER
6
Beads of water trickled down her naked flesh, her muscles loosening as Nyra continued to wash herself.
She had debated bathing fully clothed but then realized how absolutely ridiculous it would be. Had the menacing warrior wanted to take advantage of her hecould have done so a countless number of times already. He could easily hold her down with one hand. They had been alone for half the night and there would have been no one to stop the giant of a man from having his way with her had he wished it so.
As much as he was the savage that she recognized him to be, he could also be surprisingly gentle. A hint of some deep rooted pain lay hidden in those magnificent blue eyes of his, a longing that seemed to appear in a flash when he stared deep into her eyes before vanishing once more, making Nyra question whether it had been there to begin with.
The voice of reason in her head seemed to be severely conflicted. It was more than obvious that she should have been using this time while alone and unguarded to find a way to escape instead of having a leisurely bath, but for some fucked up reason she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Where would she go, anyway?
There was no one waiting for her. No one that would wonder where she had gone. Sure, Margot might think of her once in a while, but Nyra had already said her final goodbyes to the cook, making peace with the high possibility that she would die in this dragon slaying mission one way or another and hence never see Margotagain. And the Captain–well, he would most likely assume that the beast had eaten her once she failed to return in one piece.
There was also the undeniable pull between Nyra and her captor that she couldn’t ignore. If she were to die soon, she might as well indulge in her carnal urges, and who better with than that brooding chunk of raw masculinity.
With those thoughts in mind, Nyra had stripped out of her clothing, laying them out to dry on some rock on the side, and got to cleaning herself.
It felt good to wash the dirt and grass stains off her flesh, to allow the warm water to cleanse away the slight apprehension that she had felt ever since leaving the tavern. Which was another confabulation in itself, that instead of fear and trepidation, Nyra felt alarmingly safe and protected in her captor’s presence, as if the gloomy male had instilled a sense of calm in her, never once doubting his intentions and sincerity to never harm her.
“He made his intentions clear, alright,” she muttered to herself, wringing her hair, replaying every moment since their encounter in the inn.
“Did I, now?”
She spun around.
Her breath hitched.
