Chapter 22 #2
She inhaled sharply.
“Yes, just like that.” Though his movements were slow, Sven sounded out of breath. She guessed arousal, not exhaustion, was responsible for it. “First you will take my finger, in and out, until I feel that you can take another. Then when I know you’re ready, you’ll come for me.”
Oh, this didn’t seem like it would take much effort on his part. She was already trembling, poised on the edge of something momentous.
He picked up the pace, added the promised second finger and the combined action of his rock hard shaft and his wicked caresses was enough to make her explode.
When she did erupt, and felt her muscles spasm around his fingers, she could not believe the intensity of the sensation. How much better it would feel with something bigger buried inside her?
“Sven,” she whimpered, utterly undone. Had he not held her upright, she would have collapsed. But the unsatiable man had other ideas.
“Ready for me, my love? Your pleasure will ease my way further.”
She could feel how wet she was from her release and understood that was what he’d meant when he’d said that she needed to come first.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Only a moment ago she would have sworn she didn’t have an ounce of energy left inside her but his question had her arousal level spike again in the blink of an eye. They were far from finished.
He withdrew, his shaft harder than ever, and started to rub at her most secret entrance in the way she remembered. Despite her eagerness, Eahlswith could not help but tense, an automatic response. He was big, much bigger than his two fingers and she wasn’t sure how she could accommodate him.
“You need to relax and push out for me.” He leaned over her, covering her with his big body and sliding a finger inside her still quivering sheath. “I will only go in as deep and as fast as you can take it,” he promised, teasing her.
She did as he’d asked and all worry disappeared. He was so careful, so gentle. Soon he was moving in and out of her as easily as he had in her sheath. Her body was burning, encircling him in a ring of fire, and it was delicious.
“Now, Alva, I’m… You’re too tight, it feels too good. Now!”
The gruff order, combined with the flick of his fingers on her core was all it took. She erupted, again, as promised.
With his member lodged deep inside her, the spasms of her release felt very different than usual.
It was as if her whole lower body had seized.
She heard what was probably a frightful curse in Norse and heat flooded her insides.
One last cry escaped her lips. After that, she knew she would not have enough air left in her lungs to even moan.
They remained locked together while the beat of their hearts subsided and this time she knew she would be unable to move for a long, very long moment. She suspected even the formidable Norseman holding her would find it hard to stir.
Eyes closed, body numb, Eahlswith felt Sven withdraw from her and place her on to her side.
She opened her mouth to speak but something wet and soothing started to wipe at her thighs before a single sound could escape. Heart melting, she fell asleep.
Sven woke up to an empty pallet. No! Not again. Eahlswith had promised to stay, they had made love last night, and agreed to get married. She couldn’t be gone now, when he’d thought his world finally complete.
He bolted upright.
Before panic could overwhelm him, a movement from behind caught his eye.
When he turned he saw the most beautiful woman in the world standing by the table, drinking a cup of ale.
Eahlswith. His heartbeat settled back to a normal, sustainable rhythm.
Thank the gods. She hadn’t left. She was here. He could breathe again.
“I’m here,” she soothed. His anguish would have shown on his face. “I’m sorry, I had to go out to see to my needs and… Well, I do not feel at my best in the mornings at the moment.”
Of course. The babe. He sat up. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.” She gave him a radiant smile that reassured him. “’Tis not pleasant, perhaps, but perfectly normal.”
So brave, his Alva.
“It’s cold, come back to bed,” he suggested, lifting the furs for her.
She was only wearing her shift and he could see two pert little nipples peering from under the fabric, two pert little nipples he longed to warm with his mouth.
“Unless you don’t feel well lying down?” he added, sobering right up.
What was he thinking? She’d just admitted to being unsettled, he shouldn’t be thinking of his pleasure right now, or even hers.
“No. I can come back to bed. I feel better now that I’ve eaten something.”
Without further ado, she nestled in the furs by his side. He heard a chuckle, a delightful sound he wanted to hear every day of his life.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, taking her chilled hands in his to warm them. Her feet were already imprisoned between his thighs. She wouldn’t be cold for long.
“I was thinking that it didn’t take you long to break your promise not to fuck me, Heimdallr,” she whispered.
He snorted. Indeed it had not. “If you must know, I regretted the words as soon as I uttered them.”
“Yes, apparently you did.” She chuckled again. “Well, there is another of your promises I would like you to break. Can you… Do you think you could carry on calling me Alva?” She sounded unsure of his reaction.
“Why?” She had ranted against it so many times, he was surprised she would want him to use the name.
“In truth I’ve never liked my name, which sounds so much like Ealawynne. I like it even less now.”
He felt her shiver against him and this time Sven knew it had nothing to do with cold. He started to nuzzle at her throat, offering comfort. He could not imagine what it would do to someone to know that their sister, their twin sister, had wanted them dead.
“I understand.”
“Edwin gave me a special name too when we started to see one another. He called me Wren,” she said somewhat shyly.
“Good name.” Just as good as Alva. He smiled against the skin below her ear, one of his favorite spots on her body, so warm and smooth. “You are as soft and round and cute as the little bird.” His hand came to rest on the curve of her hip. Yes. Soft and round.
Perfect.
Then he stilled, as he remembered. That day, when they had eaten snow, and she had inexplicably wanted to flee, he had just told her he had spotted a wren and the innocent statement had startled her.
“The wren,” he said, sure of himself. She had not inexplicably wanted to flee. She had just been reminded of the man she had once loved, and felt she was betraying him just by being in the forest with another man, and enjoying herself. “That’s why.”
That she understood what he meant without any more details was an answer in itself.
“Yes. I think that’s why I balked at you calling me Alva at first,” she explained.
“No one had given me a special name before Edwin and I hated that you were doing the same thing as he had. I hated how it made me feel. Special, cherished again. But now, I love it, precisely because it makes me feel special and cherished. So, will you please carry on calling me Alva?”
He kissed her tenderly, humbled that she should confide this with him.
“I will do whatever you want me to.” He did like the idea of having a special name for her as well, a name no one else was using, of making her feel special and cherished, because she was.
“And you can keep on calling me Heimdallr. Or choose any other name. As long as you do call me.”
“Always.”
His hand landed on her stomach. He couldn’t wait to see her bloom with the new life she was creating.
“I had an idea last night. If it’s ok with you, I would like to place your father’s carving on the cradle I intend to make for our child,” he said, looking at her in the eye.
“I think it would be fitting. But if you preferred to keep it as is, or even place it on the door frame of the hut, like it was in your house, then it’s not—”
“No.” She placed a hand over his cheek, eyes misting over with emotion. “Putting it on the cradle is the perfect idea. Thank you. It would mean a lot to me.”
Sven took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “It would mean a lot to me too. My parents will be able to meet this babe. I wish yours had been as well. But at least we can tell Osbert.” The old man was as close to a father as anyone could be.
She nodded, and a single tear escaped her eyes. “Yes, we can.”
“Now. Are you ready to go into town or is there something you want first?”
Alva smiled. Her hand snaked along his chest in a trail of fire and landed on his shaft. He instantly went hard as stone. Praise be to the gods, he had finally found the woman of his dreams.
“There’s something I want first,” she whispered in his ear.