All was right in my world.
I tucked in.
I wasn’t wrong; the food was fan-freaking-tastic. I snarfed down a half dozen spoonfuls of scrumptious stew then stopped in order to cut into the bread.
“You want bread?” I asked Tor.
“Yes,” he answered.
I sliced while asking, “Can I see your castle?”
“You’ve seen it.”
I dipped out a huge wodge of butter and started spreading it before I looked at him. “Okay, then, can I see it again?”
He eyed me. Then he said, “We’d be safe there.”
I stopped spreading butter and stared at him. “We would?”
“The Shrew cannot practice on sacred land. All royal land is sacred land.”
Was he serious?
“Are you serious?”
He was chewing. I waited for him to swallow then he said, “Yes.”
I stared at him again, counted, got to two then exploded, “For God’s sake, Tor! If we’re safe in your blinkety blank castle, why’d you take me to a cave?”
His eyes narrowed and he commanded, “Quiet.”
“No,” I shot back, dropping his bread and the knife. “I want to know.”
“Lower your voice.”
“Dude, you took me to a cave!”
His brows knitted ominously and he growled, “I told you, I do not like this name.”
“I don’t care!” I returned heatedly and, might I add, loudly.
Mistake. Big one.
He rose from his seat and was around the table in a flash. Then I was out of my seat. Then I was in his arms. Then his hard mouth was on mine. Then his delicious tongue was doing equally delicious things in my mouth.
When my belly warmed, my bones turned to water, my ni**les were tingling, a surge of wetness gathered between my legs and my arms curled around his neck and held on for dear life, he lifted his head and I gazed hazily up at him.
He held me plastered to his body and he didn’t move back even an inch.
“When I say quiet, Cora, you be quiet,” he said low. “You don’t, I swear to the gods, I’ll keep at you until you do and I don’t care if that means I’ve got to throw your skirts up and take you on the bloody table. Am I understood?”
Oh dear.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You’re a bloody princess,” he clipped.
“Okay.” I kept whispering.