His lips were warm and soft when they touched hers. There was no urgency so the press of him was light and pleasant. Annis closed her eyes and allowed him his leisure. A strong hand cradled the nape of her neck, his long fingers sliding into her hair, while his other moved down her back, slowly drawing her closer to him until his heat was pressed against her front. Her lips parted with surprise at the breadth and strength of his hardness against her belly, so close to where it would eventually nestle inside her.
His fingers moved in soothing circles at the small of her back, not letting her retreat, but not pulling her forward. Instead of pressing his advantage, he placed tiny kisses along the rim of her lips, reminding her of a bee sipping nectar.
‘It’s been years.’ She did not understand her need to explain her hesitance. It must be obvious to him. She simply did not like to behave in such a way. When the world required her to be resolute and forceful, this reticence was new.
He raised his head enough to look into her eyes. ‘There is no rush tonight, Annis. You will be mine before morning no matter how fast or how slow we proceed.’ The thumb on the hand at her nape stroked up and down across her frantic pulse. ‘Would you like to touch me?’
Releasing her, he took her hands in his and brought one to his mouth where he placed a moist kiss on her wrist. Threads of pleasure wove their way up her arm before he dropped her hands to rest on his chest. She luxuriated in the warm, hard feel of him, letting her fingers slip beneath the soft fabric to push it further back. He did not react as he watched her face. His muscles were firm beneath her palms as they roamed. He was so hard and somehow supple at the same time. Her fingers curled in the light mat of fur, marvelling at how it could feel both coarse and soft at the same time. This man was a contradiction. She was starting to think that it might very well take her years, perhaps a lifetime, to learn all his nuances. Perhaps she was even looking forward to that.
Feeling braver and more herself, she found the nipples hiding in the fur and traced her fingers over them. The muscle beneath them flexed and his skin drew taut. She glanced up to see him studying her intently, his eyes deep pools of need. Satisfied with his response, she moved her hands up his chest to his shoulders, pushing the fabric away as she went. Neither of them seemed to notice when it fell to the floor. Her fingers traced the ropes of muscle that wrapped his shoulders and upper arms. Grim had been solid and strong, but not like this. There were angles and valleys where muscle met muscle. Each one of them seemed to flex as her fingers found them, which delighted her.
Skimming down his arms, she let her fingertips dance across the hair on his forearms and thick wrists to his hands. They were broad and strong like the rest of him, but his fingers were long and graceful. Turning his hand over in hers, she traced the calluses at the base of each finger. She brought his hand to her face, remembering how he had gently cupped her chin earlier that morning. He did it again now, letting his thumb stroke her mouth. On impulse, she pressed a kiss to the rough pad, drawing a deep sound from the back of his throat.
She met his gaze and the naked desire there sent a flood of heat low in her belly. Giving him a hesitant smile, she let the tip of her tongue taste the salt of his skin. His eyes flared, but he made no move to touch her otherwise. Satisfied that he would cede her control for now, she let his hand fall to her hip while hers went back to his chest. Only this time, she let her curiosity take her downward, over the ridged planes of his stomach. He was as lean here as Grim had been, but somehow harder.
Her fingers found the waist of his trousers, but faltered in their exploration. She wanted to touch the part of him that made him a man, but it felt wrong somehow. He had been her enemy mere days ago. Her fingertips fluttered at the waist as she debated. They fell away, but he was fast and caught her hands with his.
‘Do you want to touch me there?’ His voice was rich with a husk she had never heard in it before. The vibration of it raked pleasantly across her skin and down her spine.
She nodded, her mouth suddenly gone too dry for words. Slowly, and with the lightest touch on her wrist, he brought one of her hands to that hard part of him hidden within the confines of his trousers. The shape of him was clearly outlined, a long, thick ridge that reached for his navel. She traced it experimentally with her fingertips, delighting in how it seemed to jerk. Then she shaped it to her palm, marvelling at how he was longer than her hand. She could not properly compare him to Grim in this area, because she had never once touched her husband like this.
How was it so easy to do with this man who was nearly a stranger? But to call him a stranger seemed terribly wrong. Some part deep within her knew him.
Her thoughts shuddered to a stop and corrected the sentiment. This man was now her husband. Not Grim. Not any more. She might have pulled away as the realisation washed over her, except a blast of cool air touched her breasts. Rurik had been busy loosening the drawstring that held her clothing together while she had been lost in her thoughts. His fingers gently and deliberately drew the linen down until it was beneath her breasts, framing them for his gaze.
His forefinger traced an invisible line from the hollow at her throat to the pink tip of one breast. Her breath caught as he circled the nipple, watched it draw tight and then pinched it lightly. She could not stop the gasp that escaped her as she watched him roll the tortured and eager nub between that finger and his thumb. When he tugged a bit, a bolt of heat travelled down to that hot place between her thighs. She watched eagerly as his other hand cupped the breast that had been neglected and gave it similar treatment. By the time he took them both in his hands, kneading a soft rhythm, her knees were ready to give way beneath her.
She sighed in genuine regret when one of his hands released her to roam down to her waist and curve around her back to draw her against him. His palm moved down to cup her bottom, making her stomach flutter in delicious anticipation. His short beard rasped her cheek as he sought her mouth, taking it in a deep kiss. She only had time to open for him before his tongue sought hers, invading her in a way that was reminiscent of how his body would join with hers very soon.
Want was quickly becoming need as she kissed him back, touching his tongue with hers as she sought to learn the taste of him. He growled softly deep in his throat at her response and the sound emboldened her. Her hands found their way to the nape of his neck where her fingers curled into his hair. When she tugged, he made another throaty sound and released her lips to drag his mouth down the column of her neck. He found a sensitive spot beneath her ear and touched it with his tongue, nearly making her jump out of her skin.
Grinding his manhood against her hip, he said in a broken voice, husky with need, ‘I want to be inside you, Wife.’ To emphasise the words, his teeth scraped her soft earlobe, the pain of it mixed with the pleasure coursing through her blood so it was impossible to distinguish the two.
She was surprised at how the words made her feel anticipation instead of anxiety. She also realised that he had said them as a sort of request, wanting her to give him permission. Drawing back slightly, she cupped his cheek, moved by the genuine tenderness in his eyes, though it was mixed with a healthy dose of lust. This could have been over in moments, but he was holding himself back for her.
‘Soon.’ She smiled at him and took his mouth in a brief kiss before moving back to put a breath of air between them. Her fingers went to the neckline of her clothing and tugged, letting it fall down her body to land in a heap at her feet.
His eyes went wide before narrowing in desire again as his gaze roved down her body at will. ‘You are beautiful.’
Her face burned with the compliment. She was bold, but not bold enough to stand before him naked for any length of time. Not yet. Her fingers trembled as she pulled down the coverlet and slipped underneath, quickly moving over to make room for him in the bed. ‘Now you,’ she said from the safety of the blankets. Her bravery in this extended only so far.
‘Do you wish to see me?’ he asked with a devious glint in his eye.
She nodded, astounded at how badly she wanted to see him as her gaze drank in the sight of his muscled torso.
His hands came up in what seemed to be a deliberately slow movement to draw on the fastenings of his trousers. He pushed them down, first revealing the dark trail of hair that led downward from his navel, before giving her a glimpse of his manhood. The tip of him glistened. He pushed the trousers down his muscled thighs and she finally got a glimpse of his perfect length as it stood proud with his need for her. A few veins stood out against the smoothness of his skin there as it rose flawlessly from the dark patch of fur to lie against his belly.
Instead of crawling into bed beside her, he pulled the blankets back and knelt before her. His eyes were fevered and demanding as he took her in. A flush of embarrassment mixed with her own desire overcame her as she brought her knees to her chest. A grin twisted one corner of his lips as he ran his palms up and down the length of her calves.
‘Your legs are very pretty, strong and lean, but they are not what I wish to see.’
When had her breath become this ragged? She stared at him, somehow unable to comprehend what he must mean. ‘Do you...do you mean that you want to see...?’ She could not bring herself to say the words.
Thankfully, she did not have to. ‘Open your legs. I want to see your desire for me.’
His words only made her thighs press further into her chest. Grim had never asked this of her before. He came to her in the dark, or sometimes by the light of a candle that had not yet sputtered out, but he had never looked at her there to her knowledge. Perhaps a glimpse, but nothing more.
His eyes all but dared her to comply, while his hands encircled her ankles. She startled when the backs of his fingers stroked against the tender flesh of her inner thighs, dangerously close to that part of her.
‘Why do you hesitate?’ he asked. Although his eyes were still fierce with need, his voice was soft and unhurried.
‘Because...it’s indecent.’ Was this the price of marriage to a pagan? Even while she asked the question, she could not deny that a part of her thrilled at the prospect of complying with his request, of having him see her there—perhaps he would even want to touch her there. Damp need accompanied that thought and she worried that he might know. What would he think if he saw her like that?
Obviously, she understood that it was part of the process. The times she was damp there had been the times Grim’s invasion had not pained her. But to have it known was something altogether different.
Thankfully, Rurik did not seem to be at all bothered by her internal debate. He had taken an ankle in hand and drew it to his mouth. His lips touched the arch of her foot before trailing to the soft divot near her ankle. She watched, breathless, as he kissed his way up the inside of her calf and she seemed helpless to resist when he said, ‘Lie back.’
Her eyes closed as soon as her back touched the soft mattress. How easy it would be to close her eyes and let him have his way with her. Reflex made her grab the edge of the blanket and pull it over her breasts, but that was as far as it went to cover her nakedness. She gasped when his hot mouth touched her inner thigh and his tongue traced over her skin. When he gave a gentle nudge, her other knee fell to the side. She would not think of the fact that she was exposed to his gaze. If she did not open her eyes, he could look and she would not have to acknowledge that he had seen her.
Nothing could have prepared her for the hot dampness of his mouth when it found her, or his eager tongue stroking between the lips that guarded her there. Eyes opening in shock, she sat up and grabbed his hair even as the hot flame of pleasure bloomed to life deep in her womb. ‘Rurik! You cannot!’
He grinned up at her like a cat that had made a glutton of itself on ill-gotten cream. ‘I would know your taste as any mate should.’
She stared at him, speechless in the face of that odd logic. He continued to smile as he placed another kiss to her curls, knowing full well that she watched him do it. ‘But you are right,’ he continued. ‘That will have to be later. You are more than ready for me now.’
His strong body rose over her, forcing her to lie back. Resting on an elbow above her, he took her leg and fitted it around his hip, opening her to him in a way that had her angling her hips, eager for him despite how he had shocked her. As his gaze met hers and locked, his fingers worked between them and found her opening. He was right. She could easily feel how damp she was when a long finger slipped inside her. She clenched around him, arching her hips for more. He watched her face as he pressed another in, stretching her. There was a slight burn as her body adjusted, but it gave way quickly to greedy need as he moved them in and out in a slow rhythm that had her hips responding.
She had never felt this mindless with her need. In the space of a few moments, she had gone from being conscious of her own nakedness to preening under his touch, heedless of what he was doing to her as long as he kept touching her. A whimper escaped her throat and he groaned in response, dropping his mouth to her exposed neck. Her hands clutched at his hips, trying to draw him to her in her need to be filled. His manhood, hot and thick, brushed against her inner thigh, then the curls that guarded her womanhood.
‘Please,’ she whispered, wanting more than his fingers inside her.
That got an immediate response. He released her and rose fully above her with his palms flat to the bed, his hard shaft poised against her nether lips. ‘Please what?’ he whispered. His gaze was hot with his desire, his eyes unfocused.
‘I need you inside me.’ The words were barely discernible, but they made him groan.
Flexing his hips, he pushed into her, slipping in easily at first and then meeting some resistance. He pulled back, nearly all the way out, then resettled himself on an elbow to lie over her, grasping her beneath her hip with his other hand. The new angle lifted her slightly so that when he pressed forward again, he pushed in all the way. She gasped at the sensation of being filled as his hips came to rest against hers.
He was motionless for a moment, his breath harsh and laboured against her ear. ‘Annis,’ he whispered.
Something about her name on his lips at such a moment sent a tender pang through her chest. Her fingers buried themselves in the hair at the back of his head and she pulled his mouth to hers as she raised her hips. The low rough sound in the back of his throat as he kissed her without restraint was nearly her undoing. She felt full of him and more wanted than she had ever felt in her entire life.
His hips moved in a slow, searching rhythm that increased with the intensity of their kisses. Finally, it was too much to do both, so he broke off and buried his face in her hair as he increased his pace, his breath hot against her ear. A pressure began low in her belly and coiled tighter and tighter with each stroke. She could not get enough of him. It was not enough to be owned by him, to become his wife, she also needed to be possessed by him it seemed.
‘Rurik,’ she whispered, though she had no idea why.
He whispered back, speaking to her in his own language. The words ran together, leaving her no hope of remembering them to try to discern their meaning later. He rose over her and brought his hips against hers in a powerful thrust. She cried out at how the hard friction drove that coil of pleasure to tighten. She whimpered with her need, clawing at his shoulders in her bid for more. He obliged her and then his fingers found her where they were joined. A stroke of his thumb had her cresting a wave of exquisite pleasure as he moved within her, then hurtling over the brink with a cry. He gave a series of shorter, ungraceful thrusts and then stiffened, his own cry of pleasure filling the chamber before he fell over her.
She was amazed at the swell of affection that overcame her as he lay above her. He was her husband now and somehow that seemed all right. If he was this tender with her at night, she had hope that the daytime would be tolerable. She ran a loving palm down his back, which he must have taken as a sign that he was too heavy. He shifted and pulled out of her, leaving her aching and still somewhat needy for him.
Rolling on to his back with an arm thrown over his face, she found herself reluctant to let him go, which was silly. The deed was done. They were well and truly man and wife now. There was no need for anything more. She wasted no time in grabbing the blanket and pulling it over herself, both relieved and sad to have the initial act over and done with. Having not expected to enjoy it nearly as much as she had, she did not quite know how to face him now that the haze of pleasure was fading.
After taking a moment to regain his breath, he lowered the arm that had covered his face and looked at her, unconcerned with his nakedness. His manhood lay against him, still half-rigid.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Not at all.’ Try as she might, she could not prevent a blush from staining her cheeks.
It was only then that he smiled and turned on his side, raising up on an elbow to look down at her. ‘You are my wife now, in all ways.’
‘And you are my husband.’ She still was not quite certain what that meant to her or for their future, but the tenderness in his gaze as he smiled down at her was more than she had ever hoped for.
‘Do you wish to sleep?’ he asked, stroking the ridge of her cheek.
The simple touch stoked the simmering flames of desire in her belly to vibrant life. It was nearly overwhelming how she could want to experience that again with him so soon. That, as much as her own uncertainty at how things would be between them now, made her nod. Dropping his arm, he pulled her into his side. She stiffened in surprise.
‘Will you not go back to your chamber?’ she asked. Grim had always left her soon afterwards.
‘No, I sleep with you.’
The way he said it was almost as if he meant that he would sleep with her for ever, not just tonight. She did not want to ask, because whichever way he answered would leave her confused. Fatigue was already making her eyelids heavy and the pleasure he had given her made her limbs cumbersome and weighted. There had been too much change for one day. Instead of arguing, she allowed herself to relax into him and enjoy the weight of his arm across her body. He smelled the way he had that night in the tavern, of the outdoors and a deep, rich spice that was his alone. Turning her face towards him, she placed her nose very near the hollow of his neck where she could breathe him in.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to face Jarl Eirik. After the Jarl left she would consider how to tell Rurik about Maerr. Tonight, she would bask in the simple pleasure of sleeping near this man who by a strange twist of fate had become her husband.
Rurik could not sleep. Too much had happened in the past day to allow him a peaceful rest. And with Jarl Eirik expected to arrive tomorrow, there was even more in store for them. But that was not why he could not take his eyes from the woman slumbering at his side. In her sleep she had turned to him and now her head rested pillowed on his shoulder, while he gently twisted a length of her auburn hair around his finger. He took in her sleep-softened features, greedy to savour them before the single remaining candle burnt itself out.
She was beautiful, but he’d had beautiful women before. She was courageous, but he had known many courageous women. No matter how he studied her features, he could not understand exactly what it was about her that drew him in. Or why joining with her had felt as if he had given her a piece of himself that would belong to her for ever. It must have been the words he had spoken when he’d been inside her. He had bound them together, saying the only vows that mattered to him as he took her as his wife and gave himself to her as her husband.
The immediate closeness with her was both welcomed and unsettling. It seemed only right that he would feel this with his wife, but it was, nonetheless, unexpected. Drawing a length of her hair to his nose, he breathed in the soft and sweet scent of her. The heavy mass fell through his fingers to lie on her breast where the blanket had pulled down. Her pink nipple peeked out at him through the auburn strands.
He smiled and stroked it with a fingertip, watching it draw up as if eager for more of his touch. His shaft swelled immediately, ready for more of her, but she needed her rest. And if he was being honest with himself, a very real part of him was afraid of what might happen if he allowed himself to have her too often. What if every time they came together he gave her another piece of himself? What if soon she had all of him?
What if it was already too late to worry about such things?
He wanted a true marriage, but the truth was that he didn’t know if he was ready for that closeness. Only now, after glimpsing how good things could be with her, was he coming to appreciate the vulnerability required for what he wanted. He’d not had much experience of leaving himself defenceless. Life had always been about strength and fortification for him.
Pulling the blanket up over them both, he hugged her against him and closed his eyes, willing sleep to claim him. Tomorrow would be the first test of their marriage and he planned to meet it with a clear head.