Chapter 18 #3
They fell on the pallet in a tangle of limbs.
True to his promise, he shed his clothes in the blink of an eye, allowing her to at last see his body in all its splendor.
Oh Lord, it was glorious, pure perfection, a model of virile strength.
Adding to the effect was the silver bracelet he was wearing around his left bicep.
She had never seen anything of the sort and the sight inexplicably sent her insides to mush. It was bold and unashamedly masculine.
“What’s this?” she asked, brushing a light finger over the shiny metal band. It was exquisite work, decorated with intricate patterns snaking along the length of it, with a wolf’s head at the center, its profile delicately chiseled.
“My arm ring. Most of us Norsemen wear one. Ironically though, this one was made by a Saxon. Caedmon. Rowena’s father, the goldsmith?
You might have seen him around the village.
” She nodded. There weren’t many Saxon men around and she had indeed spotted one the day before.
“Anyway, the arm ring was presented to me on my sixteenth summer by my father.”
Ah, this explained the wolf’s head. Cwenthryth smiled. She guessed all three sons had a similar one echoing their ancestry.
“It’s beautiful,” she said honestly. Never had any piece of metal stirred stronger emotions within her.
Could women also wear one, she wondered?
And if so, could she ask this Caedmon to make one for her?
Would Steinar like the surprise? It could mark the start of the second part of her life, the one as the wife of a Norseman.
“Thank you,” he growled, his mind clearly no longer on the arm ring. “And now it’s my turn to see something beautiful.”
“I’m not wearing anything half as precious.” Or at all, she reflected, suddenly feeling inadequate. She’d never possessed any piece of jewelry. Her ears were not even pierced, something she’d long wanted to remedy.
“Who said anything about wearing anything?” Steinar purred, tugging at the laces of her bodice. “From what I’ve already had the privilege to see, you don’t need any adornment whatsoever. Your body is perfection itself.”
His eyes caught on fire when her breasts were revealed, proving he was not lying. He did not think she needed any adornment. Cwenthryth relaxed. This man… How did he always know what to say to make her at ease? How could he make her feel beautiful with just a look, reassure her in a few words?
In contrast to what he’d done with himself, he took his time undressing her, lingering over the task with relish, stopping every few heartbeats to kiss the part of her body he was unveiling.
By the time she was naked, every inch of her had been worshipped in one way or another.
And she was desperate for a more complete possession.
This time his tongue and fingers, wicked as they were, would not be enough.
“Steinar, please.” Here she was, begging already, and he had barely started.
“Yes, lovely.”
Instead of spreading her thighs, like she had expected, he started kissing and nipping at her throat.
She sighed, torn between delight at the sensation and disappointment.
She was naked, under him, and all he could worry about was her neck?
Surely there were more enticing places to kiss? Her mouth, her breasts, her—
“I can’t wait any longer, my love. How do you need me?”
Cwenthryth’s chest squeezed in gratitude.
She understood what Steinar was asking, and why.
He knew that after what she had endured at Godfrid’s hands, she was afraid of being used.
He would also remember that in the tree house she had begged him not to be rough.
But she was not worried, she would never be worried with him ever again.
“I trust you, I know you will never hurt me.”
“No, never that.” He gave her cheek a soft stroke, proving that despite his powerful physique, he was all about tenderness. “If you don’t want me to come inside your body just yet, we can do like we did the other—”
“No, I want you inside me,” she rasped, knowing she would expire from need if he didn’t fill her this time. “I want to feel you becoming a part of me, I want to know what it should be like between a man and a woman. Please, I need to—”
He stopped her with a kiss. “Yes, I will show you all you want to know. I will give you what you need. I will love you. I will become yours.”
Become yours, not “make you mine.” Love you, not “take you.” This would be nothing like what had happened to her before, with the man she hadn’t wanted.
Fully reassured, she reached out to him.
Her hand landed on the column of flesh rising from between his legs.
The hardness she felt under her palm took her breath away by its sheer size.
She was certain he was bigger than Godfrid had been, despite his boasts that he had “everything a woman could want,” and yet the idea didn’t frighten her.
It aroused her, because feminine instinct told her it would bring her untold delights.
“My, you really are made of stone, are you not?” she breathed, feeling bolder than she had ever been.
“Any man would be with you in their arms, my love.” In her grip, his shaft gave a jolt. Her core instantly reacted, rippling in feminine invitation, calling out to this part of him that would make her complete.
“You gave me what I needed last time in the tree house,” Cwenthryth murmured, bringing her mouth to his ear, “tenderness and indescribable pleasure. This time I want you to get what you need.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I already got what I needed.
” Steinar nuzzled at her throat, causing every inch of her to shiver in anticipation.
“Despite my unforgivable behavior that day, you gave me exactly what I craved, the feeling of intimacy I had lost in my marriage, the satisfaction of knowing I was holding a woman who wanted to be in my arms.”
“I did want you. I still do.” She gave his shaft a squeeze. “And I want you inside me this time, deep inside me. I want to know how it is when we are joined as one, I want to look at you when you fill me up.”
Anything less would not be enough.
“I want to look at you when I fill you up too.”
“Then do.”
She spread her legs, signifying she was ready for him.
It seemed that this was an invitation Steinar could not resist. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he slid inside her, slow but sure.
There was no pain, no resistance, only the most delicious feeling of completion.
Cwenthryth arched her back and sighed. Yes, this was exactly what she wanted. Perfection.
He started to move, keeping up a slow, torturous rhythm and it wasn’t long before, despite the delight of being finally hers, she needed more.
That day in the tree house he had warned her she would beg for more, beg him to go faster, harder.
It had been a threat destined to make her see that she could not handle him in all his urgency, and in truth, she had not quite believed him at the time.
She hadn’t seen how any woman would beg for harder, faster, when it brought so much pain.
Now she understood what he meant. Harder and faster could also bring more friction, more pleasure.
The words were straining to get out. Why was she fighting to keep them in?
This was Steinar, the man she loved and trusted above all others, who was looking at her with so much love in his eyes, who would not mock her or think the worse of her for saying out loud what she needed.
“Please. I need more. I need it… faster…” This simple command sounded so lewd she wasn’t sure she could be more explicit, tell him she also needed it deeper, harder, fiercer.
Mercifully, he understood. “No need to beg, sweeting. I will always give you what you need.”
With those words he took hold of her right leg and placed it over his shoulder. Oh. This was definitely different, opening her up wide, exposing her, allowing him easier access, placing her at his mercy. In other words, exactly where she wanted to be.
“Like this?” he asked, as he thrust in deep and hard, just as deep and hard as she wanted.
“Yes.”
“And this?” His left hand landed on her hip, before giving it a squeeze.
“Yes! More.”
Cwenthryth was discovering that, with the right man, she relished a bit of assertiveness. Because despite his assertiveness, Steinar was not rough. He was just himself. Honest. Raw.
Muscles straining, weight poised above her, he was moving in and out of her with increasing urgency. Heat was boiling in her veins, love was flooding her brain. It would not be long before she was overcome.
“You need to come for me now, my love,” he ordered through gritted teeth. It was obvious he was fighting his own release to ensure hers came first. “I will not have you unsatisfied and I can’t—Come. Now.”
With that order, he changed his movements, grinding his pelvis against her, against the part of her that seemed to contain all the pleasure she was capable of containing. Cwenthryth cried out when her whole body seized around the part of Steinar that was buried deep inside her.
A roar answered her, and just as her spasms started to ebb, she felt heat scorch her soul.
“Yes!” she said, as a slow pulsing began somewhere deep in her belly, the aftermath of her release, she imagined, a second, gentler wave of pleasure that felt just as delicious.
How long did she remain on the pallet, floating in a cloud of love-scented air? Cwenthryth didn’t know—or care. She was where she wanted to be, feeling utterly empty and complete at the same time.