He told me all I had to do was step away, and he would stop.
I swing to face him.
I’m sweating, my hair clinging to the sides of my face, my chest heaving, my left breast fully uncovered while swirls of silver material cover my other breast. The armor across my pelvis remains pulled aside, leaving me completely exposed. I don’t want the threads to cover me yet, and it seems they respond to my needs.
As I try to find my ability to speak, Antony lifts his fingers to his lips, barely disturbing the strands of hair falling across his eyes, to suck on the moisture my body must have left on his skin.
I try to read his state of mind, but it’s impossible.
“Step back while you can, Thyra,” he says.
My heart sinks.
If he’s still trying to put distance between us, then it meansthe pleasure he gave me has done nothing to break through his fears.
I tip up my chin, defiant. “Again.”
His hands twitch. “Again?”
I take a step toward him.
“Again,” I say, determined. “Facing you this time.”
His lips press together before he replies. “That isn’t so easy for my hands?—”
“Not with your hands. With your mouth.”
His shoulders immediately tense.
I continue. “Without your chest armor.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, at which I say, “I want to feel your naked shoulders beneath my hands when I come.”
I take another step toward him, deliberately provocative. “I want to run my hands through your hair when I come.”
Another dangerous step closer, close enough for him to reach out and seize me.
“I want to feel your naked chest against my legs when I?—”
His free arm closes around me, pulling me up against him, up against all the steel still covering his body.
His mouth closes over mine. A hard, demanding kiss that heats my already aching core before he jolts back again, leaving me to teeter on the spot.
I wait for him to speak. Wait for him to decide. And when his silence stretches, I force myself to speak. A hoarse whisper. “Will you do as I ask?”
He answers me by reaching up with his free hand to the armored plates covering his left shoulder. Soft clicks sound as he peels them from his body. Followed by the other plates covering his arms and chest, including the in-built compartment holding his axe, until he’s left wearing only the leather strap that covers his heart and the corresponding straps that hold it inplace.
He doesn’t stop there.
As if my challenge has triggered him to test every edge of his control, he pulls off his leg armor, leaving him in a pair of long pants that don’t hide his arousal.
I’ve seen him even more naked than this. Back at the cabin. Seen the scar across his stomach that I chose to focus on at the time instead of the immense size and length of his cock.
As the final piece of metal clatters to the floor, he hunkers before me, every muscle visibly tense, his chest rising and falling far more slowly than before.
It feels like an illusory calm. As if the more slowly he breathes, the more dangerous he becomes.
Until he’s seething with anger, a fury that drags softly between his teeth and into his massive chest.
