She couldn't have moved if her life depended on it.

He had her pressed up against the wall, boxing her in, making every move she made a concession of his will. With a single large hand, he pulled open the front of her robes, exposing the bare flesh, white as snow to the cool breeze of the day. Krya gasped, pressing her arm instinctually across her breast. Her mind went blank, her mouth went dry. Her hands wandered over his torso, his arms, his chest, his shoulder so broad and arms so powerful he looked like he could bear the weight of the world. He was over seven feet of impressive muscle, lightly tanned, a powerful man that made her feel small in comparison.

Like a doll held in his hands.

It was the eyes that always got her, however. They were the opposite of her own, such a blazing red, heated like a piece of molten metal cooked in fires so hot they could not be comprehended. They were so full of emotion, raw and unguarded, so unlike her own, the pale slivers of ice that stood solid and guarded, giving away nothing.

But did ice not melt in the presence of fire?

His vivid eyes, hot and piercing fixed on her with breathtaking intensity. The look in those eyes made Krya shiver and squirm. She had always thought herself immune to the intense sensual passions that seemed to afflict other women, but that was before Leon. Just the sight of him made her melt as if she was an icicle that had been dropped into a Furness. The flair of his nostrils and the faint satisfied curl of one corner of his mouth told her that he knew it.

Damn him for finding it so amusing.

“So, are we going to talk?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I don't know, are we?” she forced her voice to have a cold calmness that she really didn't feel at this moment.

“If you wish, or we can talk later,” he said, his face creeping closer to hers and his voice going lower as he neared.

“About what?” she asked, her breath coming in more rapidly than she would have liked.

“About what is really bothering you,” he growled as he slipped the corner of his ear into his mouth and gnawed on it lightly. She gasped and pulled her head to the side in an attempt to remove her ear from his mouth, the motion, however, caused his teeth to lightly scrape causing the feeling to transfer to her all the more intensely.

His gaze dropped lower and she could have sworn flames leaped to life in the center of his eyes. She glanced down and realized her hand had slipped from there protective clasp over her breasts, the light rose of one nipple was peeking out from between her fingers. She gasped and attempted to close the front of her robes, knowing full well how pointless it was, he had after all seen her naked before and had explored every inch of her body with his tongue and hands.

But she still felt that same shame and embarrassment.

“Don't,” the simple command made her freeze, then a defiant look came on her face and she pulled the robes closed most of the way. “We both know I am only going to take it from you before we leave this courtyard.” her fingers tightened around the cloth, and she arched one blue eyebrow at him in return.

“You can try,” she said a small smile curving the corner of her lips, “Familiar.”

“I'll do more than that, Ice mage.” he pressed up against her and brought them both down to the ground in one fluid motion. The long thick muscles in his legs bunched and flexed as they absorbed the both of their weight. He smelled to her of fire and passion, a burning scent that made her mind go blank.

Power, a mix of magic and male that she found she could not resist, it swirled around him with dark mystery, deepening his scent with an underlying core of danger.

She would not leave this courtyard before he re-acquainted himself with every inch of her skin. She knew this, as did he, it was simply a part of the game she played, her cold distance, it entices the chase in his blood, the need to dominate.

“Beautiful,” he said as he once again opened the front of her robe.

“Please, there is no need for false compliments, I know I am not beautiful.” she scoffed, gasping as he filled his palm with the weight of her small breasts.

“No,” he agreed, “Beauty is to tame a word for it.” he held her gaze for a long moment, and it wasn't until he turned his attention back to her breasts that she realized she had forgotten to breathe. “But these,” he murmured his thumb lightly caressing the area around her nipples, rolling the sensitive flesh under his hands. “These are most definitely beautiful.” his hands slid up the backs of her legs and stroked her inner thighs.

She closed her eyes and attempted to fight the mounting feeling in her core. She pretended that the feeling of his hands was simply that of a servant helping her don her clothing. An old wrinkled woman servant. But the palm that slipped between her legs was so large and masculine she couldn't hold the images in her head, no matter how hard she tried. The cloth that separated his hand and her flesh stroked back and forth between her legs and there was nothing impersonal or servile about it. Each pass was a languid caress, slow and teasing, testing. The cloth shifted, and then it was his fingers that stroked her, skin against skin, slick with the warm feminine cream that betrayed her will.

With a growl he fully opened her robes, baring her to the world and to his burning gaze. His head lowered and he drew a burning line with his tongue from one breast to the other. “Straddle me, wrap your legs around my waist” he commanded, mindlessly, instinctively she obeyed. Her legs hitched up and locked around his waist, heels pressing through the soft cotton of his robes to the hard-muscled buttocks beneath. One of his hands splayed against her back, the broad fingers spread wide holding her pressed against him. The other wandered lower curving down the deep valley of her bottom to the lips of her hottest flesh open to him by the position of her legs.

His fingers curled up, skimming the slick moisture, stroking. She gasped and arched her back, the motion thrusting her breasts closer to his mouth. Her legs clenched tight around his waist, familiar or no, in this she bowed to his conquest.

She rode his hand, instinct making her thighs and lower lips clench and unclench, lifting and lowering her in an undulating rhythm that was as natural as the roll of clouds across the sky. Her heart beat faster, her breath came in short gasps, and heat rolled off her in waves as she burned in the Furness that he lit. she grew tighter and tighter until she thought the fire inside her would burst from her skin like a fire from wind fed embers.

No spell was needed, no incantation or sacrifice, this was pure natural magic.

His thumb was stroking the small hard bead of flesh nestled in the folds of her womanhood, her body wept from the pleasure of it.

“Leon,” his name was a gasp of air from her lungs, with what seemed like all the air she could muster. “Please,” she acknowledged his claim over her, a cry of both surrender and longing. Her eyes flew open and she cried out as the flames inside consumed her. She shuddered then flew apart in his arms, streams of her pleasure running down his hand as he held her close, her sanctuary.

Her rock in the storm.

His hands fell to her hips and held her fast, his grip firm and slightly painful, his hands gripped her tighter, lifted her up and then plunged her down on his manhood. She didn't know when he had freed himself of his robes and found she had no mind to think of it as he spread her wide, pushing deep inside her, sheathing himself in her warm flesh.

Her eyes rolled back in near fainting from the pleasure of it. and every last rational thought flew from her mind, there was no later, there was no before, there was only now, there was only this. The fire, the ice, the consuming desperate need for more.

His strength wrapped around her holding her fast as he plunged so deep she thought she might die. His teeth closed around her nipple tugging with unbearable torment as he raised and lowered her on the thick column of his flesh, again and again. All the while her fingers dug deep into his chest her nails raked him, an instinctual fight even as she knew it was not only hopeless but also knowing that she didn't want it to stop.

He endured it without flinching and only growled deep in his chest, increasing the pace of his thrusts, dominating her every motion as each thrust sounded a clap of flesh on flesh, reddening the skin in between her legs with the force of it. Her mouth fell open, slacked, so out of it she could no longer control the lull of her tongue.

His growl vibrated against her breasts and drove her her further over the edge. Consciousness shattered, her inner muscles clenched around him in wave after wave of powerful shuttering ripples. Leon’s back arched his teeth tugged free of her breast as his head flung back on a shout of triumph and ecstasy. Her musky feminine scent swirled around him in heady waves, infusing his senses, driving him wild, his hips pounding into her so hard the breath was driven out of her with each thrust as he dominated her with urgent need as he impaled her with near violent thrusts.

Once.

Twice.

Inside her clenching heat, his manhood expanded, on the third driving thrust he released a hot wave inside her. He roared out loud as his seed entered her with such force it was like his life was exiting his body into hers. He dropped to his knees, allowing her to lay slumped and shaking on the ground, her eyes only showing the white having long rolled back in her head. She was gibbering something, he couldn't understand, but it didn't matter. She would not be coherent for a while, so he silenced her with a brief conquering kiss. And then rolled the two of them over, with her splayed bonelessly atop him.

He smiled as he felt her shudder limply on top of him, her warmth still around his manhood, now slick with both of there liquids., it would seem as though they would have to talk later...