My eyes scan the crowded hall for Bryn, coming up empty. She'd sworn she wasn't leaving our chambers tonight, convinced her presence would somehow overshadow me tonight. I'd tried to tell her how ridiculous that was, but you can't force someone to see their own worth. Yet I'd spotted her earlier, twirling in Erik's arms, her face glowing with something that looked suspiciously like joy. Erik had looked... well, as close to happy as Mr. Stoic ever gets.
Now they're both missing from the festivities. Either they've finally stopped fighting fate and given in to what everyone else can see plain as day, or... they're back to their usual dance of denial, and Erik's somewhere trying to drink himself into oblivion.
Knowing those two stubborn souls, it could go either way.
A strong arm snakes around my waist, pulling me back against a wall of solid muscle. Rhyland's presence engulfs me, his sandalwood and ocean scent making my head spin. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves—the delicious result of the explicit little mind-movies I've been sending his way all evening while playing nice with the Aesir.
I never expected sharing thoughts would come so easily. This new ability came as naturally as breathing. After he'd shared that brutal memory with me, back in Luminara, I figured it was my turn to experiment. The first fantasy hit him like a lightning bolt—I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at his reaction.
Besides, I threw down the gauntlet—can't make winning this little game too easy for him. That's not how we work. We push, we tease, we challenge. It's our dance, and damn if I don't love every step.
"Having fun, Angel?" His grip tightens possessively, his voice a deep sexy rumble against my ear.
I blink up at him innocently. "Oh, absolutely. Nothing better than recounting our near-death experience to everyone in attendance." I roll my eyes. "Though I must say, each telling gets more dramatic. By midnight, I'll probably have single-handedly defeated an army of guardians while juggling fireballs."
His fingers dig into my hip, a silent warning that sends heat pooling low in my belly.
"You know damn well what I mean." His voice drops to that dangerous growl that makes my toes curl. "Since when did you become a master at mind-fucking?"
I bat my eyelashes at him, channeling my inner Elle Woods. "What, like it's hard?"
A sound rumbles through his chest, half growl, half groan. "Food. Now. And stop broadcasting porn into my head before I bend you over this table, witnesses be damned."
I roll my hips back, a slow, deliberate grind against the impressive bulge straining his formal wear. "Having concentration issues?" I peek over my shoulder, catching his darkened gaze. "Funny, I don't recall any rules." I wiggle against him again, delighting in his sharp intake of breath. "I must have missed that part of our arrangement. But if it's proving too...hardfor you to maintain control..."
His grip turns bruising, his cock twitching against my ass as the crowd flows around us toward the feast hall. "Fucking hell, Angel." His voice is pure gravel against my ear. "How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you're flooding my mind with every filthy thing you want me to do to you?"
The scorching heat of his erection burns through my dress, sending electricity straight to my already wet core. Feeling him hard and aching, knowing I did this to him—it's intoxicating. Like a drug I can't get enough of. Every twitch of his cock, every growl rumbling through his chest, every flex of those big hands on my hips—it's all because of me.
And god, do I love having this over him, making this powerful man lose control, and watching him fight against his baser instincts. It's the same rush he gets when he has me writhing beneath him, begging for release. Now it's my turn to make him squirm and burn with need.
"Just a few more hours." I flash him an innocent smile, but my mind broadcasts something far more wicked—me on my knees, looking up at him through my lashes as his colossal cock, stretches my throat, as I take him deep.
The sound that rips from his chest is pure predator. "Dani, I fucking swear—"
"Oh hey, speaking of hot and bothered..." I quickly redirect, scanning the crowded hall. "Have you seen your broody brother with my sister? Because I definitely caught them earlier looking way too cozy on the dance floor."
He presses against my back, his thick erection grinding against my ass as his lips brush my ear. "Nice try deflecting, Angel. But if you're so interested—they're upstairs finally dealing with all that sexual tension. Now, about those little mind games you've been playing..."
Relief floods me knowing they're finally giving in to fate's plan. But I can't let my Viking see me sweat—not when his cock is granite-hard against me and he's seconds from going full caveman.
"Oh look, dinner time," I chirp with fake brightness, tugging his hulking frame behind me toward the feast hall.
We follow the crowd, where a massive table stretches endlessly. The aroma of honey-glazed meats, fresh-baked breads, and spiced mead makes my mouth water. Roasted boar glistens under golden light, surrounded by mountains of herb-crusted potatoes and jewel-toned fruits I've never seen before.
Hell yeah. Time to stuff my face.
I take one step toward our seats when the world suddenly blurs—my back hits cold stone, trapped between a wall and six-feet-plus of horny Viking. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses fade to a distant echo, replaced by Rhyland's ragged breathing against my neck.
My back still tingles from the impact, my heart racing at his supernatural speed. His sexy body cages me against the wall, those tattooed hands bracketing my head.
His tongue traces a hot path up my neck, making my knees weak. "Game's over, Angel." That gravelly voice is pure sin against my skin. "You've been begging for my cock all night with those pretty little fantasies." His hand fists in my hair, tilting my head back. "Time to put that wicked mouth to work. Right here. Right now."
The deep tone in his voice shoots straight between my legs, making me throb with need. My breath catches as his teeth graze my pulse point—a dangerous reminder of exactly who I've been teasing all night.
Maybe I pushed too far. Or perhaps this is precisely where I wanted to end up.
My gaze sweeps the abandoned landing, where ancient murals depict Thor's legendary victories. Candlelight flickers across stone walls, casting shadows that dance over Rhyland's sharp features. His eyes have gone midnight black, pupils dilated with primal need as he looms over me.
