~ HARTH ~
Harth watched, wide-eyed as, with a sly grin that made her stomach twist and flutter deliciously, Tarkyn yanked her towards him by her hips. Her hands slapped on his arms as she flailed, afraid that she would fall. But Tarkyn, still smiling, wrapped an arm under the hollow of her lower back to take her weight. Then, with hooded eyes and a voice rough with desire, urged her to wrap her legs around his waist until she laid on the bed, her back on the furs, the rest of her pressed tightly against him.
For a moment they just stared at each other, Harth strangely thrilled by the sense that if he dropped her, she would fall to the floor—and yet… she knew he wouldn't. Then he leaned closer, his eyes never wavering from hers, and every move, pressed them against each other.
Harth blinked. Her back was on the bed, but everything below her waist was held by him, or locked around him. One wrong move would dump her to the floor.
He had her at his mercy.
