***
Thora wondered at the devilish glint in Ari's eyes. Thankfully, he'd given up the idea of having her disrobe him, for he tugged his boots off himself before standing and stripping out of his trousers and tunic. He kept his back to her, and despite her intentions to ignore him, her gaze was drawn to his bare shoulders, powerful and broad, down his back to the tight muscles in his ass. She closed her eyes, pleading with Freyja to take pity on her and make her immune to his sensual allure.
When she opened her eyes again, he faced her. She deliberately kept her gaze upon his, knowing if she looked anywhere else, her determination to stand against him would waver. No, not waver. Crumble into dust. She didn't want to let him know how much she wanted his touch, his kiss, his hard shaft filling her. Yet she knew the moment he touched her again, she might very well reveal the depth of her longing.
When he moved to stand right before her, she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. Surrendering was not an option. His devilish grin gave her the idea he knew exactly what thoughts ran through her mind. Still, she held her ground when he reached for her, surprised when he sliced through the ropes holding her wrists together. A moment later, his fingers were on her brooches, loosening them and sliding thesmokkroff her shoulders. She sucked in a deep breath when he then slid her undertunic down. A cool breeze arose at that moment, sliding across her bared breasts and sending a small shiver through her. Soon, her clothing lay in a pile around her feet. Still silent, he caught her hand and led her to the water's edge. The darkening sky somehow made him seem larger, more overpowering, and at the same time, the now-familiar comfort settled upon her. Knowing she felt safe with him was a dangerous reality to face, but at this moment, there was no ignoring it.
He'd betrayed her, lied to her. Used her. Was still doing so. Well, she would use him too. Use his body to take her own pleasure, even if she had to submit to his wicked demands. After these last weeks, she knew well just how much he wanted her. In the most carnal sense anyway.
He stepped into the water, pulling her with him. She sucked in a breath at the sudden cold of the stream, yet didn't resist when he pulled her shivering body deeper. He stopped, turning to face her, holding out his other hand. A small ball of scented soap made from conkers from the large chestnut tree rested in his palm.
"Wash me."
Her sharply inhaled breath seemed a shout to her ears. Why must he insist on treating her so callously? She jerked her hand from his.
"Wash your own self." She turned away, her body slowly growing accustomed to the chill of the water. He reached to stop her, but she evaded his grasp, moving further downstream.
"Thora!"
His sharp voice rang out and she paused, slowly turning to face him once more. Even in the fading light, she easily read the heat in his eyes and despite her intentions to resist his cold-hearted demands, her body betrayed her. Her sex swelled, heating and slickening, making her sweat despite the cold stream.
"Why must you treat me so badly?"
"What?"
"Yes, I owe you a great debt. But I am not a slave. Yet, you insist on treating me as though I were no more than a mere possession, to be used and discarded, or worse, sold on your whim."
"I would never discard you, Thora."
Sincerity hung heavy in his tone. She wanted to believe him, but forced herself to remember the lies he'd told her. The way he'd betrayed her. She was a means to vengeance, nothing more.
Why did that have to hurt so much?
Her determination to enjoy his attentions, take her own pleasure while shielding her heart, once more weakened. She closed her eyes briefly, then met his stare once more.
"Then show me more respect." She lifted her chin, daring him to mock and refuse her demand.
He smiled, the one that so often left her lips tingling in anticipation of his kiss. She remained still when he moved toward her, finally standing mere inches away. He made no move to touch her. She remained wary, yet still holding on to the foolish hope that he might make some attempt to assure she deserved his esteem.
He cupped her cheek, tilting her head. His gaze roamed her face, warming her wherever it landed. "I will return the favor."
What did he mean? Did he finally intend to treat her as an equal, or was this some ploy to get his way? Once more, he held out the soap. With a scowl, she took it and dipped it into the water, the oils from the conkers making the ball slippery in her hands. Small bubbles formed as she rubbed the soap between her fingers, another rush of annoyance rising when he turned his back to her.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, running the soap over them with one hand, using the other to spread the thin lather. She held back a satisfied chuckle at the way his skin twitched beneath her fingers. Again and again, each time her hand slid across his back and sides, a small tremor vibrated under her touch. If only she didn't enjoy the feel of his wet skin beneath her fingers.
He turned, the heat in his eyes glowing under the last of the the daylight. She continued her task, though her gaze remained held by his. Across his chest her fingers roamed, leaving a thin trail of fragile bubbles in their wake. His entire body tensed when she slid her fingers along his side, to his hips. Knowing she caused the sudden sharp intake of breath fed her own desire, made her breasts feel heavier, her nipples tight and hard. Somehow, she managed to maintain her focus on her task, hiding a sly smile.
Holding the ball of soap in one hand, she dipped the other beneath the water's surface. Her seeking fingers soon found his shaft, hard and erect. As always, a thrill passed through her to know she affected him near as much as he did her. The pride mingled with her own anticipation of what would come banished her anger. At that moment, she no longer cared, even if it stung that he didn't care for her beyond their shared physical affinity.
The heat in her body made it impossible to think of anything but the man before her. She curled her fingers around his cock, savoring the wild quiver that passed over him. How nice to be the one with the advantage this time. The knowledge left her breathless and giddy. Her slippery finger slid easily along his flesh, drawing a groan. After a moment or two, he caught her wrist and wrenched her away. He slid his arm around her waist, pinning her against him while he stripped the ball of soap from her hand.
"My turn."
The thick husk of his voice sent a jumble of delight coursing through her. He had barely touched her and already her pussy ached for him to fill her. She knew he wouldn't oblige her, he took his pleasure from tormenting her with pleasure. If only he wasn't so skilled at knowing just how to touch her to make her beg for more, for him to take her to that glorious peak he'd introduced her to.
From the moment his fingers danced along her jaw, down her neck to her chest, she was panting, unable to steady her heart or ease the wild trembling in her limbs. The soap glided over her skin, guided by his heated fingers. A moment later, he dropped the soap into the water.
Before she had the thought to question his devilish smile, he cupped her breast, chasing the words before she uttered them. The barest touch of his wet and slick fingers drew a moan before she even realized it had formed. Her hands rose to his shoulders and she found herself unsure if she meant to push him away or hold on tight.
