Chapter 15 #2
He put his hand in the leather pouch at his belt and extracted the comb Torsten had given him that morning. The elf design had taken longer than the usual decorations but it had been worth it.
“Here. This is for you,” he said, handing her the present. His brother had even made a case for it, decorated with a simple pattern of leaves.
Instead of taking it, she stared at the comb. No wonder she was entranced. It was one of Torsten’s best pieces. White and smooth, with thin, regular teeth, and a beautiful carving on the handle, it was the perfect gift for her. “You made this?”
“No.” He couldn’t help a smile. Once again, she was hoping he’d made a delicate object. But just like the cup and the wicker basket, he had not. “I wish I had. But Torsten is the talented artist.”
What he wouldn’t have given to have half of his brother’s talent in that moment. But he had never been artistically inclined. Torsten could carve whatever he wanted, Eirik was skilled at pottery, Moon could have woven a basket in his sleep, but he was only good where strength was required.
He took her hand and, seeing that she didn’t seem brave enough to take it, placed the comb into her palm. She turned it this way and that, examining it.
“Is that a woman?” she asked, awe in her voice.
“Yes. Or rather, it’s a female elf. Alva means elf in Norse, so I thought it—” He stopped, remembering how she always insisted that it was not her name, that he should call her something else.
“I know you don’t want me to call you Alva, so perhaps I should have asked Torsten to carve something else. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Eahlswith cleared her throat. Her chest had gone too tight for comfort but she forced herself to talk, and reassure Sven because he looked like someone who thought he had made a terrible mistake.
I didn’t think, he’d said. But she knew that the opposite was actually true.
He’d thought long and hard about how a comb destined to her should be decorated to make it meaningful and he’d found the perfect answer.
“Thank you. I love it as it is, with the elf.” Closing her fist around it, she brought it to her heart. It was perfect. Perfect for them.
How much she had hurt him, she realized, by asking him why he had come. It was as if the light in his eyes had been snuffed out. It was time to stop being silly and give herself another chance at happiness. She was only five-and-twenty, she could not realistically spend the rest of her life alone.
In her house right now was a man who wanted her, who wanted to see where things could go between them, a man she wanted as well. Edwin had once been the man she wanted, the man she should have married, the man she loved but he was dead. She was not. Wasn’t it time she started to live again?
Yes. If living meant being with Sven.
He wanted commitment, he loved children, he gave her thoughtful gifts, he made her laugh, he lived in a place where she would be happy, he was ready to love and protect her, he knew how to give her body and her soul what they needed. The list went on and on. Why was she even hesitating?
Eahlswith went to the window and took in a deep inhale.
It was time to let go. Edwin had been a good man, she knew he would have wanted her to be with someone who was so determined to be with her, someone who bestowed beautiful gifts on her, someone who listened to her without judging, someone who wrenched indescribable pleasure out of her.
Someone who wanted to give her a special name.
Someone like Sven.
“It’s snowing again,” she observed quietly. Would he understand what she was hinting at? He could not ride back to the village in this weather. “It will not be pleasant to be outside.”
She had barely finished her sentence than two hands closed around her waist and two arms drew her against a strong chest.
“No. Let’s get to bed, then, shall we?”
Eahlswith could not repress a smile. Not only had he understood the hint, but he had jumped on the opportunity she was offering. This was her fierce warrior, unashamed of his desire and refusing to be denied the opportunity to give her what she needed. What they both needed.
“Yes. Let’s go to bed.”
No sooner had she given her agreement than he swept her feet from under her and started to carry her to the pallet in the corner of the room.
“Put me down!” she protested. “I’m not really an elf, despite what you say.”
“We’ve already had that discussion once, I believe.
I refuse to have it a second time. especially now, when I’m barely hanging on to my control.
I’m carrying you to the bed, and that’s all there is to it.
” He gave her a truly wicked smile. “Or would you like me to pin you against the wall again and make you forget your ridiculous notions of being too heavy?”
It did sound tempting but no, not today.
For now she had other ideas.
Sven almost lost his seed when Eahlswith bit her bottom lip and shot him a lethal look from under her sooty lashes. That look told him she had an idea in mind, an idea he already knew he would love. Good, for he had never been that hard. Or rather, it had never hurt that much. Or…something.
All he knew was that from the moment the light in Eahlswith’s eyes had changed and he’d understood she would welcome him back into her bed, if not into her life just yet, he’d not been able to think.
Tonight would be like none of the other nights they had shared.
He would not just take her body, he would make sure to take possession of her soul in the same way as she had taken possession of his.
He made to deposit her on the pallet of furs, like a precious gem in its nest of furs but a hand on his chest stopped him
“No. Not here,” she surprised him by saying.
“Where then?”
Surely she didn’t want to go outside, in the street and in the snow?
He would not have her body exposed to people’s curiosity or her skin to the cold for the world.
Or perhaps she wanted to be seated on the table so he could lick her like he had done that first night?
If that were the case, he would be only too happy to comply.
“There is a little storeroom there, through this door,” she said, nodding to the other end of the room.
A storeroom? Well, why not? As long as he could have her.
The door was so small he had to put her back down and duck to get through.
In there it was pitch black. Muttering what sounded like a curse at the unforeseen inconvenience, Eahlswith went to get the tallow candle from the main room.
She came back with a fur in the other hand.
Once the candle had been placed on a wooden box to the left of the door, he was able to see.
Better. Now he would be able to see her gorgeous, naked body.
She placed an empty sack that might once have contained root vegetables or flour on the floor, and then covered it with the fur she’d brought along with the candle.
“Here. Lie down here.”
Not needing to be told twice, Sven lay onto his back and drew Eahlswith atop of him. His breath caught in his throat. Straddling him, with a naughty gleam in her eyes, she had never looked more beautiful.
“Now what?”
“Take your tunic and shirt off,” she ordered, her voice just as husky as his.
Well, if she wasn’t in an authoritative mood today. His shaft went from stone to granite as he hurried to obey her instructions. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted, especially if what she wanted was him naked. In the blink of an eye, he had disposed of his clothes.
“Alva, forgive me, I know this is a bad moment to tell you this, and I’m not even sure you’ll want to hear it but I think I’m falling in love with you,” he said, the words he had never pronounced before leaving his mouth with shocking ease.
Her reaction was not the one he had hoped to see, quite the opposite. She blinked in incomprehension.
“Do you think you could say that again in a language I can understand?”
It was his turn to blink. Then he understood.
Damnation, he’d spoken in Norse. Of course, he had.
He always did that when he spoke from the heart.
From a young age, he’d associated his mother’s language with everyday, useful exchanges, reserving his father’s native tongue for what was more personal, what really mattered.
Like his feelings for this woman.
He swallowed. “I…can’t.”
It had been one thing telling her in the heat of the moment, but now, while she was looking at him expectantly? He wasn’t sure he could. Would she be displeased? Fortunately she didn’t seem to be.
“Perhaps you can tell me later?” she breathed, giving a small smile.
Yes, later, once they lay panting on the floor, exhausted by the most intense release of their lives, then he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the words to himself.
“Your turn to undress,” he said, heart in his throat.
Slowly, she tugged at her bodice and lowered her shift to expose the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen, the breasts he had fantasized about from the moment he had seen them back in the summer, bathed in the silver moonlight. They were just as perfect now, gilded by the golden candlelight.
“Do you want to taste me?” she asked, lifting the two perfect orbs in her hands as if to offer them to his gaze. Forget the mischievous elf, in that moment she was the goddess of temptation herself. And he, mere mortal, didn’t stand a chance.
“Yes,” he rasped.
She smiled and leaned forward, bringing one nipple to his lips, pinning his wrists above his head. Despite the light pressure, he could not have freed himself in no time. He didn’t want to, as he was right where he wanted to be.
“Suckle me, Norseman.”
Never had a man delighted more in his task. She tasted so sweet, her nipples were so tight he could have come just from filling his mouth with the most delicious treat he’d ever had and imagining what would happen next.
With her breast in his mouth distracting him, it took Sven a moment to understand what was happening.
Eahlswith was tying his wrists together.
Before he could ask anything, she put the length of rope through a loop fastened on the wall and yanked, forcing his arms to straighten, holding him in place.
What the fuck?
It didn’t hurt but all the same, he couldn’t help a pang of discomfort. Just how many men had she tied to the wall thus?
“This loop has annoyed me from the moment I moved into the house,” she said with a smirk, observing her handiwork.
She didn’t seem to have noticed his reaction, or think he would mind being at her mercy.
Which he didn’t exactly. “I almost asked my neighbor to remove it the other week. I’m glad I didn’t, as I’ve finally found the perfect use for it. ”
Now that he knew she had not used the annoying loop on anyone else, his body relaxed.
This was maddeningly arousing. Not one of his lovers had dared to tie him up, or even asked him to tie them up.
Just the idea that Eahlswith wanted to have her way with him was enough to send fire coursing down his veins.
She placed her lips at his neck and gave a teasing bite. “Mm. You taste just as delicious as usual but this time I’m thinking we’ll need honey.”
Honey. To be spread all over him and licked in slow, sensual swipes of her tongue. For the second time that evening, Sven feared he had unmanned himself.
“Yes. Go get the honey,” he rasped.
“It’s in the other room.” She straightened back up and restored some order to her bodice. “Wait here, Heimdallr.”
Bloody hell, if hearing that name in her mouth didn’t reduce his loins to cinders. How was he going to survive this? He wasn’t sure.
“I’ll not be going anywhere.”
Even if he had not been tied up to the wall, he would not have wished himself anywhere else for the world. Finally, his Alva seemed to have accepted what she felt for him, allowed desire to dictate her actions.
Today would mark a turning point, he could feel it.