Chapter 21 Hanna
HANNA
Two days later
Hanna was seated at the kitchen table, cradling a glass of milk as she ran her finger around the rim of the fine vessel. Around and around, like the thoughts swirling in her head.
The kitchen was spotless, the pots and crockery scoured and packed neatly, bread dough rising in a bowl near the hearth, ready for the oven in the morning.
Little James had fallen asleep with Maria while she read them her evening psalms.
There was nothing left here to do.
You are my woman now, Alaric had said. And somehow, Hanna actually felt it might be true. That she not only wanted that, but liked the feeling.
She liked Alaric. Her husband. No, more.
She wanted him, too.
Not just carnally. She wanted the connection he seemed to offer her. Feelings.
Hanna wanted to love him. Wanted to believe that he could feel the same for her too. Wanted to trust what she saw sometimes in his eyes when he looked at her.
Never again had she thought she would want an attachment to a man. Not after her betrayal, not after the lies.
They all lied, didn’t they?
But he hasn’t made you any promises he didn’t keep, a voice whispered in her head. He has only done as he said he would.
Why did he take me to wife?
Alaric had not pressed her in bed, never did anything but praise her around the house, and gave doting attention to her boy.
He did not hold her shame over her head, as she had expected him to.
Hanna sighed, dropping her head into her arms, taking a moment to feel the soothing cool of the wood tabletop pressed against her forehead.
There was no running anymore. There was only here, and now.
She had been caught, snared. Would she struggle, or would she submit?
Last night she had slept alone in their bed, and she had tossed and turned, missing his warmth beside her. Now, her man was home, but she didn’t know how to cross the divide inside of her.
Footsteps padded down the stairs and Hanna quickly raised her head and straightened her shoulders.
“Hanna? Come to bed,” came his deep voice. Always low and lilting, almost soothing to the senses.
Alaric prowled into the room, stopping to watch her as she continued to look down at the tabletop.
“What is it?” Alaric asked, an edge to his voice now. “Has something happened?”
Hanna sniffed, but shook her head. Scared he would see her feelings on her face. Stuffing her vulnerability down.
But perhaps she did not do as well as she thought, for he stepped closer, reaching out to grasp her chin and turn her eyes up to his, studying her with his tawny gaze.
It was late and he was bare chested, only a thin pair of drawers covering his body as he stood before her.
“Come to bed,” he said, again. And Hanna suddenly understood her reluctance.
It was time. She felt it in the air between them, the tension ripe and full.
Narrowing his eyes, Alaric took her expression in, his hand slipping down to finger a lock of her hair, sweeping it back over her shoulder and trailing his touch down her arm with a considering look.
“Fine, don’t come to bed. I will stay here with you.” He stepped up beside her and leaned against the kitchen table, watching her.
After a minute his brows drew together and Alaric sighed, opening his arms. “Come here,” he said, and Hanna rose and stepped into his embrace without hesitation. Feeling the warmth of his body envelope her and hold her tight.
Hanna closed her eyes and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck, breathing deep of his masculine scent, letting herself relax as her arms shyly came around his waist.
For a long moment they just stood there, Alaric resting his chin on the top of her head, breathing together. Then, finally he moved, dipping to smell her hair, softly rubbing his cheek against her face.
Their lips met, and Hanna felt a surge of feeling throughout her body, her belly flipping as if she had jumped from a great height.
He brushed his mouth against her ear. “Have I told you yet today how beautiful you are to me?” he whispered, pulling her tight against his chest, pressing hot, open mouth kisses along her neck.
Hanna mumbled something unintelligible, then gasped as he cupped her bottom and turned her, depositing her on the kitchen table and stepping between her thighs while he dragged her close.
Hanna’s breath was coming fast now, her skin flushed as Alaric's hands roamed her body, nothing but her light chemise separating his palms from her skin.
His gaze fixed on hers, capturing her eyes with his as he watched her response to his touch.
That look grew hungry, his hands cupping her breasts, palming their weight and squeezing gently as Hanna caught her breath, desire simmering in her blood as his touch roughened, his fingers grazing across her nipples in a way that made her gasp in shocked delight.
“I think about you all day,” he growled, leaning down to nip at her lips, teasing her mouth with his as his hands continued their torture. “I think about you all night, while you lie asleep next to me.”
“You do?” Hanna managed to ask, her breath coming fast now as Alaric bucked his hips between her thighs, pressing the thick bulge in his drawers tight against her cunny in a way that made her dazed with something like need.
“You have stolen my thoughts, one by one, and now they are all yours,” Alaric whispered against her skin, running his mouth along her neck, kissing the line of her collarbone as he bent her back over the iron band of his arm.
And then he was kissing a line down her chest, lifting her breasts to his mouth so that he could suck at her sensitive nipples through the shift, warm pleasure spreading from his touch as her body reacted eagerly to every flick of his tongue.
He growled against her breasts and sucked harder, palming their fullness with hands rough with lust. Hanna couldn’t stop her moan, and realised with hazy shame that her milk was coming in, her breasts tingling in that way that signalled the first rush of letdown.
“Wait, I’m sorry-” she gasped, pushing futilely against the solid strength of his shoulders.
“Sorry, for what?” Alaric rasped against her breast, then he glanced up at her face, her cheeks blazing with desire and embarrassment.
The man glanced down, noticed the dampened front of her shift, and Hanna watched with disbelief as Alaric’s gaze turned fierce, feral almost, as he tore the front ties of her shift apart and tugged the neckline down to reveal her breasts and dark pink nipples, still wet with creamy milk.
Alaric sucked air in through his teeth, and pushed her back all the way onto the tabletop, leaning over her with a wild expression as his mouth latched once more to her breast, sucking, tasting, biting lightly as her milk ran freely and Hanna squirmed beneath him in sinful delight, the sensations unlike anything she had ever felt before as he squeezed and licked from one breast to the other.
“Gods, you are sweet, Hanna,” he groaned, looking up at her with his mouth still hovering above her taut nipple.
“I could taste you all night… here,” he said, licking decadently across her damp skin, “here…” he added, trailing his mouth down over her shift to her belly, “and definitely here,” he growled, his breath heating the skin of her mound through the thin fabric as she arched on the table from the riot of sensations.
Alaric dropped to his knees on the slate kitchen floor and grasped her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the table as his mouth fitted itself to her most private place, the shift plastered to the sensitive skin as his tongue traced her seam through the damp cloth.
“Alaric!” she gasped, her thighs tightening around his head as her hips lifted helplessly, her thoughts scattering as desire and fright mingled into hot, bright pleasure as he licked and sucked relentlessly over the bud of her pleasure.
“Your pleasure is mine, I will taste it all.” Alaric nipped at the tender skin of her thighs as they trembled and shook over his shoulders, then pushing her shift up and over her hips, he bared her fully to his ravenous gaze.
A sound rumbled from his chest and Hanna gripped the edge of the table tight, her breath panting as he spread her curls and slowly dragged his tongue through her folds, exploring every inch of her, circling and teasing the aching dip at her core and then, he pounced, his mouth capturing her bud as he sucked and licked her into a fever of pleasure.
Her hips rolled desperately, her body taking over and Alaric gripped her thighs tight, leaving her no mercy, his evening beard scraping against her tender flesh as he dug his chin deeper, his mouth hot and insistent until she exploded around him, a blaze of pleasure ripping through her fast and hot as she cried out helpless in its thrall.
Alaric surged to his feet and leaned over her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he leaned down to kiss her, sharing her taste with a sinful smirk.
His fingers returned to their mischief between her thighs, his mouth on hers as he tasted each sigh, each small noise of want he could draw from her.
“Do you need me,” he whispered, his fingers dipping deeper, stretching her, making her ache and throb and clench around the space she needed filled.
Hanna shuddered, closing her thighs on his hands as she gave in to the craving he had awakened in her.
She ducked her head into the crook of his neck, winding her arms around him as she tried shyly to find her voice.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered finally against his throat, her body aching, her mind bright and clear.
Alaric did not say a word, merely hefting her from the table into his arms, cradling her there with her legs wrapped around his waist as he strode from the kitchen for the stairs, carrying her up to their room.
He took her straight to the foot of the bed, setting her down slowly onto the carpet and reaching down to finger the hem of her shift.
“Not yet,” Hanna managed to whisper, her heart beating a sharp tattoo in her chest, her mouth dry with anticipation.