She is a capable swordswoman on a quest for a mysterious and magical artifact hidden deep within the demon-infested woods.
He is a mighty centaur warrior, strong in his prime and dead-set upon acquiring the same prize... in addition to securing himself a suitable mate.
When a misunderstanding leads to a deadly battle between the two seasoned fighters, things quickly lead to passion... but when the demon guardian of the hidden treasure arrives, the two must forstall their lovemaking to fight for their very lives.
She moaned and arched her back against him, pressing herself into his hand more, granting permission. His breathing grew quite ragged as she urged him to fondle her more, continuing to wriggle against him and sighing encouragingly. They were both consumed in the kiss, which was now more fiery than sweet.
“If I thought you were strong enough,” he murmured, “I’d throw you on the ground and take you right now.”
Her eyes popped open. “Strong enough? What? Do you think I’m weak?” She snapped her head back, cracking her skull sharp against his nose.
His grip let up as he yelped loudly. Tears formed in his eyes from the unsuspected blow and he stumbled forward just a few steps.
Those steps were a mistake on his part.
Micah braced her feet against the wall, pushed off hard and flipped backwards, landing on the back of her foe, one leg on either side. Thinking quickly, she seized one of the arrows from his quiver and held it up to his throat. Leaning in so that her full lips brushed against his ear, she whispered, “Say when.”
A jovial laugh burst out of him. “You are a quick little thing,” he panted, holding his neck as far away from the arrow head as Micah would allow.
Now it was Micah who laughed. “I've been fighting my entire life. I’m the strongest woman you’ll ever meet, so if you ever call me weak again, I’ll cut out your tongue.”
“You would not,” he said airily. “You like my tongue too much.”
“Maybe I’ll wear it around my neck as a souvenir,” she said, drumming her fingers around his necklace of teeth.
“Is that a fact, woman?”
“The name's Micah. And it is a fact,” she pressed the arrow deeper into his skin, bringing a bead of blood to the surface. “What's your name, demon? I like to know who exactly it is that I'm killing.”
“My name's Ceron,” he said. Then, in a move so risky Micah never expected it, he jerked his head to the right, cutting the side of his neck on his own arrow in the process. He reached behind him, hauled Micah off his back, and slammed her against the temple wall. “And I'm not a demon. I'm a centaur.”
Before she could respond or even comprehend what he had said, his lips were on hers again. His body crushed her further into the wall, his hands roamed over her freely... almost possessively. Her breath hitched when she felt his fingers slide down the back of her pants...
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