The Dare Collection October 2018. Nicola Marsh
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They were both blessedly naked. And for a moment Thor held himself there, enjoying the simple perfection of her bare skin against his. The way his cock notched into her soft heat.
The anticipation.
“I’m beneath you,” Margot said in that same demanding, daring way that lit him up everywhere they touched. And everywhere they didn’t. “Now what?”
“I am not the one who hides behind words,” he said, though everything in him shouted for him to simply tilt his hips, find her slick entrance and bury himself in her pussy at last. “Do you think I need to learn the same lessons?”
“I think that you’re so certain you don’t need to learn a thing that it probably means you do,” Margot replied simply, that powerful current running through her and into him.
And the fact she was saying something he didn’t want to hear didn’t change that electricity.
If anything, it turned a simple charge into a lightning strike.
“I already told you. I’m fluent in all kinds of languages. My body isn’t a mystery to me, Margot.”
And as if he had to prove it, right there and then, he thrust himself deep inside her.
She groaned. He did, too. And for a moment the pleasure was so intense, almost excruciating, it was as if they had to freeze to survive the impact of it.
Thor held himself above her, his palms braced against the ground on either side of her head. And Margot was a flushed tangle of purple hair and bright eyes beneath him.
“But you have no issues, of course,” Margot murmured, her voice soft but still infused with that note of power that made him think of the sea. “You have no needs. You’re near perfect, just as you are.”
There were a thousand things Thor could have said then, but he didn’t. He pulled out, taking his time in making certain he dragged the head of his cock over all the parts of her he could, there in that tight channel where he’d already found each and every place that made her shiver. He found them all again. He reminded them both how well he fit. Then he thrust himself back in.
But Margot was still talking. “It’s perfectly normal to run a hotel like this. To live in an antiseptic penthouse that echoes when you walk. You have no daddy issues at all. If we opened up a dictionary right this minute, we would find your picture next to the word well-adjusted. I’m certain of it.”
He knew she was taunting him. And he thought he should stop it. Or counter it, anyway. He certainly couldn’t allow it to go unchallenged—
But he didn’t use words. He thought words were beside the point.
He used the deep thrust, then the slow drag out. He used the angle of his hips and the way he moved them. He used the intensity of his pace and the way he could alter it at will to throw her toward the edge and then keep her there.
And keep her there.
She laughed, breathless and more than a little bit wild. And then she braced her hands on his chest as if that could stop this. As if anything could stop this.
“Here’s what I know about you, Thor,” Margot said, and her voice was thicker now. He could hear the little breaths that caught in her throat every time he surged deep within her, but she didn’t stop. “You like to talk. You claim to be about the body, but the truth is that it’s all mind games, isn’t it? The only question I have is—who are you playing those games for, me or you?”
He shifted, going down on his elbows so he could press the wall of his chest against the glory of her breasts and make it all ache that much more.
“You’re so cool. So aloof. You claim you listen to your body, but even while you fuck you’re analyzing. Cataloging.” Her gaze was a blaze of gold. “No wonder sex is your favorite form of recreation. You don’t have to worry about true intimacy when everything is so clinical.”
Thor didn’t tell her what he thought about her sudden abiding interest in intimacy. He showed her. He picked up his pace, moving just fast enough so that she hitched up her knees on either side of him, putting her feet flat on the rug to give herself a little purchase to lift up and meet each thrust.
“You live in a sex hotel. You have this stark and empty penthouse all to yourself. You’re so busy building walls around yourself that you don’t even know you’re doing it. Nothing can touch you. No one can know you. The more available you make yourself, the less you can be seen. But I see you.”
Her voice broke then. And Thor wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t sure he was listening so much as he was withstanding the way each word she said burned into him, and scorched him deep inside.
And all the while he was lost in that sweet, delirious slide. He couldn’t tell anymore if he was keeping to a pace or if he was simply losing himself inside her.
He couldn’t tell if he was lost.
And he didn’t care.
“I see you, Thor,” she whispered again, and then everything was fire. There was a blistering light that ate them both alive, an electric madness that he didn’t know whether to crave or fear.
He did neither. Both. He pounded into her and she met him, and he couldn’t tell who was fucking who.
It was as if they were moving parts of the same whole, making a blistering storm all their own.
He felt her shake again, and he knew her now. He knew the way she came apart. He knew that tight, hot clench of her pussy around his cock. The way her thighs clamped down on the outside of his. The way she lifted herself to take more of him, all of him, arching her back to press herself even more firmly against him.
And Thor kept going. He fucked her through one orgasm, then straight on into another.
It was too hot. It was too right. He believed that she could see him and more, worse, he could see himself at last.
And when he released himself inside her, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was lost.
The trouble was, he understood as he heard himself shout out her name and tumble off into the madness of that storm they’d built, he didn’t think he wanted to be found.
MARGOT WOKE SLOWLY, a delicious sort of warmth all over her.
It took her a long moment, then another, to understand where she was.
Iceland. Thor Ragnarsson’s famous sex hotel. Trapped at the notorious Hotel Viking by a blizzard, no less.
Which meant she’d actually survived the most intense night of her life.
She opened her eyes and found herself out on one of the low, wide couches in the main room in Thor’s stark penthouse. She could hear his voice, though she couldn’t see him from where she lay,