Chapter 17
ALARIC
Alaric lay next to Hanna in their bed, the darkness of the night heavy around them like a thick blanket of want. Of need.
Fuck, he needed this woman so badly, it hurt. His heart ached, his cock throbbed. It was absolute torture of the worst kind.
Today, she had smiled at him over the kitchen table.
He shifted beside her slight form, rubbing his chest absently at the thought. It had been a real smile, and then Hanna had ducked her head as if surprised that she had a smile available to give.
Hanna slept loose and warm beside him, her breath coming slow and even. It made Alaric feel good to know that she trusted him enough to sleep beside him so, their limbs touching, feet curled together in the morning when they woke.
Baby James slept in his crib across the room, behind a screen and close to the banked fire where the warmth would linger. All was good. This house felt like a home again at last.
So much progress had been made, and Alaric hoped Hanna trusted him a bit now. Saw that he meant every word he had said to her in that lean-to in the forest when he offered her his suit.
Alaric wanted to be her husband, her man. The one who looked after her, provided for her, and protected her from everything that prowled outside these four walls.
He knew she needed time, but the kiss they had shared yesterday, so spontaneous, so sweet, had brought all his basest desires to the surface.
Alaric rolled, tucking his arm around Hanna’s waist and pulling her into the heat of his body, breathing deep of her sweet scent as she murmured sleepily, cuddling closer.
Each time she did that anew, each new night of touching, of hands roving in the dark, drove him closer to the edge.
“Alaric?” she murmured sleepily, turning her face towards him with a sigh, her bottom hitching closer, as he dared to rest his lips against her shoulder, bare where her chemise had slipped down.
The one he had provided. And he would give her so much more, anything that he could.
“Hmmm,” Alaric breathed, tightening his arm around her middle, keeping her tight against the hard ache of his erection.
“I want to kiss you again,” he murmured, brushing her hair to the side and pressing his mouth to the line of her jaw.
Still half asleep, it seemed she arched her neck, and he took the silent invitation, kissing her slowly along the side of her cheek, the soft skin below her ear.
Hanna’s breath hitched, and Alaric grew braver, tasting her skin with his tongue, moving closer and closer to the side of her mouth until she half turned in his arms and their lips met.
The soft kiss made his heart thump, his head spin as they slowly, carefully explored each other in the dark. No eyes to see, only hands touching, tongues tasting, lips opening as the kiss deepened. Hanna started to squirm against him in a way that sent his blood running hot.
Fuck. Need. He needed her so badly.
But he needed her to want him even more.
“Can I touch you, Hanna? I want my hands on your skin …” Alaric managed to grit out, unable to stop himself from nipping the side of her neck, so tempting and sweet under his mouth.
Her hand ran up his shoulder to cup his face as she pulled away, her breathy gasp sending a jolt to his cock that was sinful.
Slowly, she brought her face to his, resting her forehead against his for a moment, her breath ghosting over his lips as she finally answered him.
“Please.”
Alaric’s mouth went dry as his hand found her hip, cupping the swell of it and then dragging down the line of her thigh, hitching it up over his with a swift movement that left no room for argument.
Quickly, he threaded his leg through hers, wanting her plastered against him, the feel of her full breasts crushed against his chest.
His hands roved hungrily, skimming the linen of her chemise as he found his way under the hem, dragging his way back up over the silk of her skin to palm and squeeze the round curve of her bottom, exploring the elegant line of her spine until he cupped the back of her neck, pulling her head back for him as he rolled slightly over her, pressing his thigh against the moist heat he could feel at the apex of her thighs.
All the while, Alaric sipped on her lips, tasting every small noise she made in response to his touch, savouring each moment as if it were something precious. A gift.
“Should I stop?” he asked at last, his breath rough as his lust started to flare too hot. Threatening to overwhelm him.
The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Scare her. Push her away, just when she felt within reach.
Hanna said nothing, but he could feel her eyes on him as his mouth hovered above hers. It wasn’t a yes, but it also wasn’t a no.
He decided he would touch just a little more.
His hands were already roving down the side of her body, reverently testing the weight and curve of her breasts, the nip of her waist, his cock throbbing hot and hard inside his drawers against the soft warmth of her belly as she arched slightly under his touch.
That hint of desire from her made his heart stutter in his chest.
Alaric knew that she had endured something terrible, knew she refused to speak of the babe’s father and what that meant.
That small movement showed him that he was on the right path, that soon he might win her trust. But, it also made him want to draw her further towards him, tempt her secret heart closer with the promise of sweet pleasure.
He shifted, sliding his hand down over the small swell of her stomach as her hips tilted under his touch, his fingers searching for the scorching heat between her thighs. Her light shift offered no defence as he hitched it up, dying to feel her.
His fingertips brushed her mound and Hanna gasped, stiffening beneath him, her hand closing tight over his forearm as he threaded his fingers through the soft curls.
Alaric stopped, his breath harsh in the sudden stillness, his forehead dropping to the curve of her shoulder as he waited.
The moment stretched out, taut with tension, and Alaric kissed the soft skin under his lips, moving to withdraw his hand. Hanna’s grip loosened, then tightened again, stopping his retreat. A sound coming from the back of her throat.
“Let me touch you, sweet Hanna,” he whispered, brushing more kisses along her neck. “If it feels good, I will not stop until you are senseless with pleasure. If it does not, say the word and I’ll stop at once, I swear it.”
Hanna sucked in a deep breath, then nodded slowly.
“I need to hear the words,” coaxed Alaric, touching his lips to the corner of her mouth.
Hanna cleared her throat softly - half sigh, half moan. “Very well,” she murmured, her voice small and shy.
Alaric smiled into the darkness, kissing her gently for her bravery, then his fingers started to stroke her softly.
He caressed the soft skin above her mound, testing the delectable jut of her hip bones, then touched the soft skin of her inner thighs, coaxing her legs open for him so that he could trace the moist outline of her seam, drawing a shuddering sigh from Hanna as she shifted restlessly beneath his touch, her hand still resting lightly on his arm as he explored her.
Alaric parted those curls and cupped her, letting one finger dig deeper, teasing her open for him slowly as her body went taut, thighs trembling.
Hanna was wet. And hot. So temptingly slick that his hips bucked against her, his teeth clenching with the tension coiling in his body.
Alaric pressed deeper, finding the dip at her centre that marked the place he would take her. Soon, please yea gods, let it be soon.
But this was not about him; it was about her, so Alaric slid his fingertips upwards, parting her folds until he found the swollen bud of her pleasure.