Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 32902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
He sliced his sword through a man’s arm and, without fighting anymore, took off with her pressed tightly to his side.
She didn’t look back, didn’t wait to see if they would follow. She ran as hard and fast as he was, not sure what in the hell had caused those fuckers to attack, but fearing that if Stian hadn’t shown up, she’d be as good as dead right now. But her curiosity and will to live got the better of her, and she looked over her shoulder for a second.
They stood at the line of trees but clearly wouldn’t venture any farther. The villagers shouted until Agata couldn’t hear or see them anymore, and when they finally reached Stian’s home and they were in the hut, he started pacing and cursing.
He didn’t wear his fur-lined jacket, and she saw a few cuts on his flesh, blood trailing down. He was angry with her, and she knew rightly so. If she hadn’t been so foolish as to run off, thinking that maybe those people would help, even though they had been hostile the first time she’d seen them, they wouldn’t have had to fight for their lives.
“You’re hurt,” she said mainly to herself and went over to where the basin of water was kept. She grabbed some rags, needing to tend to him, because she’d caused this, and she could take responsibility where it was due.
Yes, she wanted to go home, and yes, he had no right to keep her here against her will, but he saved her life twice—tended to her when she’d been injured and now saved her when those fuckers had attacked her.
When she turned with the basin and cloth in hand, she saw he had his hands curled into fists, his eyes narrowed and trained right on her.
Steeling herself, Agata moved closer, looked at his chest, and stopped when she was only inches from him. Dipping the cloth in the water and then bringing it to his chest, she ran the thin, small piece of fabric along one of the cuts but kept her gaze on his face.
He looked so angry with her, and a part of her, a small, silly part, wished she hadn’t left; that way, he wouldn’t be hurt or upset. Of course, the much louder, stronger part said she’d done the right thing, even if it hadn’t ended the way she wanted.
Patting the wounds with the cloth, she looked at his chest and noticed they were just superficial. He took hold of her face with his big hands, cupped her cheeks, and looked down at her lips. He whispered something low, almost needy in nature.
Before she knew what was happening, or could focus on the fact she was really going here with Stian, he kissed her.
His lips were firm, full, and the flavor of him reminded her of the kiss they shared before she kneed him in the groin. The bowl dropped from her hand as her fingers started tingling, and water splashed along her feet.
She braced her hands on his thick biceps, knowing what she was going to allow happen went against all reasoning and common sense.
But right now, she didn’t care. God, she didn’t care.
12
He moved his hands down her face, stroked his fingers along the sides of her neck, and continued lower until he gripped her hips. Stian flexed and released his fingers there, and she knew this encounter would be fast, furious, and so heated that it would be like she had disconnected from her body.
The fire running through her veins could not be ignored, could not be extinguished. He kissed a path along her collarbone, his voice low, growling in intensity.
She breathed out heavily. Only Stian, a man she hardly knew and should hate with a passion, had such heated, crazy feelings moving through her. Stian made her wet and so ready to take him into her body. He ground his hardness into her belly, and she gasped.
“Stian, don’t stop,” she said, even though there was a language barrier. She grabbed onto his arms and pulled him closer, and he groaned against her neck, running his tongue up the length of her throat until a shiver worked its way through her.
Agata grabbed his head, tangled her fingers in his short hair, and pulled until she could look into his eyes.
He flared his nostrils, and his eyes glazed over with lust. She could see it as much as she felt it. She glanced down at his mouth, and for the first time in her life, she threw caution to the wind and didn’t think about anything but allowing herself to feel good.
Agata took control of the kiss and gave back just as forcefully as Stian had. He groaned against her mouth and grabbed a chunk of her hair behind her head. He broke the kiss, pulled her head back, and growled out something in his native tongue.