Chapter 6 #2
“I’m afraid I’m not going to last much longer than you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You feel too good around my cock. But we have all night. I’ll make sure you never forget the feel of me inside you.”
Oh, she already knew she would not.
Sven had fully anticipated that Eahlswith would behave as if they hadn’t indulged in the most decadent lovemaking of their lives as soon as she woke up.
He was therefore not surprised when he found her already up and at the table, cutting cheese with her back to him.
At least this time, because they were in her house, not his, she hadn’t been able to flee.
“Good morning,” he said, keeping the furs tight around his body. Not that he thought for a moment she would have forgotten he was naked. That was probably the reason why she was behaving as if she were alone in the room.
It hurt, undeniably.
After a night of delicious abandon, they had both fallen asleep, sated and content, in each other’s arms. And yet here she was now, refusing to even meet his gaze.
Was that why she had only allowed him to take her from behind last night?
Because she couldn’t bear to look at him?
No, he was being silly. She had lain under him, then knelt in front of him and finally stretched on her side next to him because those positions had brought her immense pleasure. As it had him.
By the gods, he was already hard from waking up, he should not be thinking about how her sheath had welcomed him and squeezed him tighter than a fist every time she’d reached her peak. It would only make him do something he would regret.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, finally acknowledging his presence.
He was, but he thought it better to find some bread in town before he rode back to the village. She looked too ill at ease for him to enjoy this moment together.
“No. I have to go anyway, I know Torsten will be waiting for me,” he said at random, reaching for his braies. No one was waiting for him and the last thing he wanted to do was leave but it was probably for the best.
She nodded, looking relieved, and didn’t ask any questions, swapping the cheese for the loaf of bread instead.
He’d been right; she couldn’t wait to see him go.
He got dressed in silence, seething with disillusion.
She’d said there was no man to worry about, that she was free to bed him.
Which meant she was also free to be with him if she wanted to.
And yet she wanted him gone.
Why? Was she like all the others, who only wanted him for a few hot nights?
Like Freydis, who had left for Denmark mere days after allowing him in her bed?
Like the women from his village who’d known him all his life and for whom he held no interest outside the bedroom?
Was he good for nothing other than physical pleasure?
Were his tongue and his cock the only parts of him worthy of interest? He was seriously starting to wonder.
He grunted, looking down at his groin. At least Eahlswith’s coldness meant that his erection had vanished in a puff of smoke.
“When will I see you again?” he asked, fastening his belt. He hated sounding needy, but he had no choice. He could not bear the idea that it might be another six months before he saw her again and he could tell that was what would happen if he didn’t contrive a meeting himself.
“I don’t know.” She cut another slice of bread. How many did she intend to cut? He’d just told her he wouldn’t eat anything.
“Are you not planning on visiting the village soon?” he tried again a moment later. She had followed him outside, which surprised him. He had fully expected her to slam the door in his face as soon as he went to get Gulltoppr ready.
“I’m not sure. There is no reason to. Cwenthryth said she might—”
“Cwenthryth,” he spat, unable to contain his bitterness any longer. Her friend was the only person she thought to come and see and she wasn’t even trying to pretend it wasn’t so. “There is another reason for you to come to the village, you know. Or have you forgotten I live there too?”
“No, but—”
“So what you are saying is that you couldn’t possibly want to see me.
That if I want to see you, I will have to ask my brother to father another child on his wife, because meeting the new babe is the only reason you want to come to the village?
” he carried on, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.
“It shouldn’t be too difficult to convince Steinar.
He and his wife can’t seem to keep their hands off one another. ”
Just like the two of them. Eahlswith would be aware of the irresistible attraction between them by now. And yet she persisted in fighting it, for no reason that he could discern.
“I haven’t bedded another woman since we spent the night together.”
The air between them stilled, then a sudden shower of snowflakes came to blur his vision.
“Why are telling me this?” Eahlswith said in an agonized whisper.
He ran a hand through his hair, barely resisting the impulse to tug at it in helplessness.
Why was he telling her exactly? Why did he feel the need to expose his vulnerability?
To show her just how much he cared about whatever was between them, how much he wanted to see it grow?
All this when it was clear she didn’t care?
Why was he being such a fool?
“Because you need to know that no one but you interests me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I cannot rid myself of the idea that we what we have is something special. And I think it’s the same for you, even if you refuse to admit it. Tell me, Alva, that last night you didn’t enjoy feeling me—”
“Stop calling me Alva!” she erupted.
“Why?” Why did she object to the name so much? It was hardly in insult. And why was she getting angry, exactly? She was not the one being discarded like so much dirt on the ground.
“Because it’s not my name,” she said lifting both hands to the milky skies. “How would you like it if I called you…Heimdallr?”
“Heimdallr?” Why on earth would she choose that name for him? How did she even know about the god of war? Saxons usually didn’t know anything about the Norse gods, preferring a single deity with no power he could discern and who didn’t even seem able or inclined to roam the human world.
He followed the direction of Eahlswith’s gaze, which had landed on Gulltoppr, tethered just behind him. She knew that the golden-maned horse belonged to Heimdallr then. This was why she had thought of this name. The woman was full of surprises.
His bitterness vanished.
“How do you know so much about Norse gods, anyway?” he asked, both pleased and unaccountably aroused.
She shrugged, her own anger spent. “Cwenthryth is fascinated by them, and being married to Steinar, she’s had the opportunity to learn. She’s started teaching me what she knows. I have to admit, it is rather fascinating.”
It would be, he supposed, for someone used to the single deity who didn’t own a horse, a raven, a hammer or anything else of note.
“Well, to answer your question, I would love it if you called me Heimdallr,” he growled, drawing her into his arms. They couldn’t part like this, not without a kiss, at least. “It would make me feel like a god outside of bed as well.”
She rolled her eyes at his answer calculated to exasperate her. But he was not jesting. This woman made him feel like no other had.
“Sven…”
Ah, his name in her mouth. He remembered how she had whispered it in surrender last night, before finally losing all restraint and ordering him to fuck her.
It had been one of the most satisfying moments of his life.
Unable to stop himself, he took her mouth in a kiss he’d intended to be fiery but which ended up being achingly tender.
He put in it all he had not been able to tell her, and all he hoped to be able to tell her one day.
“This is what I mean,” he breathed against her lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel like one of the goddesses right now?”
Without waiting for her answer, he vaulted onto Gulltoppr’s back. Eahlswith was looking at him, her black eyes huge.
“This isn’t over. Alva. Mark me, even if you don’t want to come and see me, fate will ensure we do meet again.”