Signy's eyes widened in surprise – how had Argis countered this move?! Did anyone actually use something like this in battle?
A sharp, blunt pain on the inside of her wrist startled her; it was so sharp and intense, her hand opened not of her own will. That sneaky bastard. He had slammed his own arm against her so hard, her tendons had spasmed and she'd dropped her own sword. And all it had taken was the swift inward swipe of his sword arm.
Signy glared up at the Bulwark defiantly, a fire in her eyes and a snarl on her lips. She was angry – she'd been bested in battle, she'd fallen for such a cheap trick, and the goddamn man before her managed to somehow move with such power that it was actually sexy. Even when he'd knocked the sword from her hand, he'd known what he had been doing, and he'd shown no fear, only strength and confidence. The mere sight of the Nord's scowling face, brows furrowed tightly, lip curled in a snarl of his own, was enough to ignite a deep fire in Signy.
A thick hand fisted in her hair then, grabbing her locks in a most painful way. Using this to maneuver her, Argis spun her around, slamming her back against the rock that encircled their arena. Signy gasped, finding Argis a great deal closer than he had been just moments ago, his sword still at her throat.
“Admit it,” Argis rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly growl. “I won.”
“No,” Signy said, voice breathless and raspy. “It's not over yet.” She twisted her back, struggling against the man, but he had a firm hold on her, and was not letting her move anywhere.
“It's over,” Argis warned, jerking her head back and baring her throat to him. “Say it. Say I won.”
“I won,” Signy smirked dangerously, her eyes narrow slits. Argis tugged on her hair harder, eliciting a cry of pain; he stepped closer to her, his massive body pressing her firmly into the rock. His good eye gleamed dangerously, in a way Signy had never seen before. For a moment, her breathing hitched. What was that look upon his face?
“Not funny,” he growled, breathing the words down into her ear. “Let's try again.” The words sent a shiver down Signy's spine.
“It's not over till it's over, Argis,” she replied, turning her head defiantly toward Argis', until there was only a matter of millimeters separating their noses. “I'm still standing.”
The Bulwark roared in fury, grabbing Signy's waist roughly and pulling her flush against him. At this proximity, she could feel every bulge of his body under his leather armor – from the way his biceps pressed against her sides to the swell of his bulky pectorals against her head.
“Damned stubborn woman!” Argis raged.
“Fucking prideful son of a bitch!” Signy raged back, refusing to back down. She thrashed again in his arms, only to find his strength overwhelming. Between the rocks at her back and the massive man at her front, she was truly going nowhere.
Argis tugged harder on her hair, baring Signy's throat again, even as her lower half kept squirming hopelessly for escape. Only when a new, unfamiliar bulge pressed against Signy's lower stomach did she gasp and cease her writhing.
“Gods damn you!” Argis rumbled, full lips ghosting over Signy's neck. “Why can't you just fucking admit that I won?”
“Told you,” Signy gasped, shuddering at the contact on her sensitive skin. “It's not over yet, you bastard.” A mischievous gleam in her eye, she pressed her hips forward, grinding against the considerable bulge between the Bulwark's legs. The man moaned wordlessly, hips tilting into the welcome contact as he pushed Signy off the ground, up the rock wall. The hand tangled in her hair smoothed down, cupping the back of her head, while the arm around her waist supported her with ease.
“Yeah? Well, it will be soon,” Argis growled, the trimmed hairs of his beard scratching Signy's smooth cheeks. She shivered at his words, wrapping her legs lazily around his hips.
Say It (6/?)
A sharp, blunt pain on the inside of her wrist startled her; it was so sharp and intense, her hand opened not of her own will. That sneaky bastard. He had slammed his own arm against her so hard, her tendons had spasmed and she'd dropped her own sword. And all it had taken was the swift inward swipe of his sword arm.
Signy glared up at the Bulwark defiantly, a fire in her eyes and a snarl on her lips. She was angry – she'd been bested in battle, she'd fallen for such a cheap trick, and the goddamn man before her managed to somehow move with such power that it was actually sexy. Even when he'd knocked the sword from her hand, he'd known what he had been doing, and he'd shown no fear, only strength and confidence. The mere sight of the Nord's scowling face, brows furrowed tightly, lip curled in a snarl of his own, was enough to ignite a deep fire in Signy.
A thick hand fisted in her hair then, grabbing her locks in a most painful way. Using this to maneuver her, Argis spun her around, slamming her back against the rock that encircled their arena. Signy gasped, finding Argis a great deal closer than he had been just moments ago, his sword still at her throat.
“Admit it,” Argis rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly growl. “I won.”
“No,” Signy said, voice breathless and raspy. “It's not over yet.” She twisted her back, struggling against the man, but he had a firm hold on her, and was not letting her move anywhere.
“It's over,” Argis warned, jerking her head back and baring her throat to him. “Say it. Say I won.”
“I won,” Signy smirked dangerously, her eyes narrow slits. Argis tugged on her hair harder, eliciting a cry of pain; he stepped closer to her, his massive body pressing her firmly into the rock.
His good eye gleamed dangerously, in a way Signy had never seen before. For a moment, her breathing hitched. What was that look upon his face?
“Not funny,” he growled, breathing the words down into her ear. “Let's try again.” The words sent a shiver down Signy's spine.
“It's not over till it's over, Argis,” she replied, turning her head defiantly toward Argis', until there was only a matter of millimeters separating their noses. “I'm still standing.”
The Bulwark roared in fury, grabbing Signy's waist roughly and pulling her flush against him. At this proximity, she could feel every bulge of his body under his leather armor – from the way his biceps pressed against her sides to the swell of his bulky pectorals against her head.
“Damned stubborn woman!” Argis raged.
“Fucking prideful son of a bitch!” Signy raged back, refusing to back down. She thrashed again in his arms, only to find his strength overwhelming. Between the rocks at her back and the massive man at her front, she was truly going nowhere.
Argis tugged harder on her hair, baring Signy's throat again, even as her lower half kept squirming hopelessly for escape. Only when a new, unfamiliar bulge pressed against Signy's lower stomach did she gasp and cease her writhing.
“Gods damn you!” Argis rumbled, full lips ghosting over Signy's neck. “Why can't you just fucking admit that I won?”
“Told you,” Signy gasped, shuddering at the contact on her sensitive skin. “It's not over yet, you bastard.” A mischievous gleam in her eye, she pressed her hips forward, grinding against the considerable bulge between the Bulwark's legs. The man moaned wordlessly, hips tilting into the welcome contact as he pushed Signy off the ground, up the rock wall. The hand tangled in her hair smoothed down, cupping the back of her head, while the arm around her waist supported her with ease.
“Yeah? Well, it will be soon,” Argis growled, the trimmed hairs of his beard scratching Signy's smooth cheeks. She shivered at his words, wrapping her legs lazily around his hips.