Her strength was a match for his, her anger suddenly as hot, her lust as frenzied and fierce. He came on, forcing her backward across the floor, retreating and retreating until she stumbled against the dais. He did not stop, his mouth never losing its hard contact with hers, until her back was against the wall, his body pressing her into the stone. She shifted her feet, pivoted and forced him with her, along the wall until they reached the room that was just there behind the dais. Her shoulder hit the edge of the doorframe, a jarring contact that robbed her of her balance for the barest second. It was an advantage he did not miss, taking control of their motion, pulling her inside the room.

Then they were on the floor, her hands reaching down to pull up his tunic as his mouth opened greedily across her throat. She gasped and arched beneath him, lifting his hips with hers, desperate for the layers of metal and fabric between them to be gone. She felt his teeth press into her flesh and a wild strength rose up in her, answering his savagery with her own, rolling him over so her body covered his, her hands fumbling to release him.

Barely had she done so before he pulled her face to his again, claiming her mouth while his arm pinned her body to his and he moved. Her back was on the floor again, his body crushing hers. She gloried in it, wrapping her legs around him and urging him to move faster. He pulled away, his eyes dark as he raked them over her. He yanked her shirt of mail up just enough, the padded tunic bunching around her hips as he entered her, a forceful thrust that was pain and pleasure. He plunged deep and hard, over and over again, each time driving them a little farther along the floor. She put her arms up, braced her hands against the wall as she panted, frantic in her arousal. His eyes were a dark mystery that fixed on her face as his body pounded into hers, his teeth clenched as he uttered a guttural groaning that woke the most carnal part of her.

This, she thought wildly. Her flesh was made for this, for him – to yield to him, to withstand his force, to meet it and equal it. She wished it to go on forever, but even as she thought it, the pleasure began to burst inside her. A sound erupted from her mouth, her arms straight, hands pushing against the cold stone as her pleasure reached its peak. He shoved more deeply inside her, filling her utterly as his hoarse cry rang out.