Chapter 26 Insanity
SHE WASN’T SURE how it happened.
One instant, she’d wanted to blacken his eye and shove his teeth down his throat. The next, she was climbing her husband like a tree.
The kiss was fierce. Instinctive. And he returned it, his mouth bruising hers.
Their hands clawed at each other. A wild hunger flared between them, while the Ord-ree seal continued to pulse. They both ignored it.
Alar drew her lower lip into his mouth and sucked it before capturing her tongue and doing the same.
Dizziness swept over Lara. She scrabbled at his vest, desperate to touch the skin beneath.
Their bodies writhed together, limbs tangling, and she felt him, hot and hard, pressed up against her belly.
Growling, Lara bit down on his lower lip.
Alar snarled a curse against her mouth.
She then ground her hips against his. Goading him.
Their hands tore at each other’s clothing now, even as their mouths remained locked.
Lara was vaguely aware of her tunic and under shift fluttering to the dusty floor, of the harness containing his daggers thudding against wood.
Her fumbling fingers burned to touch him. All of him.
Finally, they were both naked. Alar hauled her against him, his hands everywhere now, stroking, clutching, and squeezing. Frantic. Her fingers tangled in his still-damp hair. She then yanked his head back so she could bite his neck.
His gasp made excitement clutch at her lower belly. Reaching down, her fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking its proud quivering length. Her breathing caught. Gods, he was beautiful.
He groaned into her mouth, and she thrilled at the sensual sound.
This was madness, but she craved insanity.
She didn’t want to think right now—only to feel.
Their mouths attacked each other once more. Her hunger for him pounded through her, so fiercely now that her core started to ache.
Alar walked her backward so that she leaned up against the pile of stuffed sacks.
The musty smell of oats embraced them. The rough sacking scratched her back, but she barely noticed.
She was too busy sliding her hand up and down his prick, working him.
Her stomach clenched once more as it grew harder still and swelled in her grip.
“Fuck!” He tore his mouth from hers. His teeth grazed the column of her throat, nipping the skin.
A desperate sound—halfway between a gasp and a sob—escaped her.
She released his shaft then, allowing him to move down her body. He cupped her breasts, pushing them together as he lathed each swollen nipple in turn with his tongue. He then started to suck.
Lara shuddered, her head falling back against the sacks. Pleasure pulsed straight down from her nipple to her aching quim. She writhed against him. “More!”
Alar growled another curse and sank to his knees before her, spreading her wide. Panting, he sat back on his heels, his hungry gaze raking over her exposed sex.
She started to tremble, even as she took him in. The strong lithe lines of his body. The glowing red eyes of his wolf’s head tattoo. His parted lips, swollen from the violence of their kisses. The feral hunger in his eyes.
An instant later, he moved, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Then, his searing mouth dipped between her thighs.
Pleasure jolted through her womb at the first touch.
Lara canted her hips up to meet him, her hands tangling his hair once more as he devoured her. Shuddering, she thrust up to meet his swirling tongue. In response, he plunged it into her.
She bit down on her lower lip. Hard. Gods.
She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. Others would hear.
Heat smoldered in the cradle of her hips, the tension almost unbearable now.
His tongue returned to the sensitive pearl of flesh above her entrance, teasing.
She shivered and groaned. And then, he was sucking her there, relentlessly.
It was too much. She shattered, bucking against him. Alar held her tight, continuing to pleasure her until she lay limp and trembling against the sacks. Sweat coated her skin, and her naked breasts heaved.
Her husband pulled back then, his gaze flicking up to meet hers. “Do you want me to fuck you, Lara?” he asked, his voice rough. “I’ll stop, if you want.”
Desperation clutched deep in her chest. “Don’t you dare stop,” she choked out.
His gaze smoldered as he moved her legs from his shoulders and rose smoothly to his feet. He then pinned her trembling thighs wide against the sacks. And then, staring deep into her eyes, he slid into her.
Lara gasped at the invasion. Despite how aroused she was, he was big, and she was tight. It almost hurt. Recklessness ignited then. She didn’t fear pain. She welcomed it. Arching her back, she rolled her hips to bring him deeper still.
A whimper escaped her. And when their bodies were flush, she heaved a deep, trembling sigh. “This changes nothing,” she ground out, meeting his gaze again. “I still hate you.”
His eyes darkened, and he gave a slow sensual smile that made heat roll over her. “No,” he said softly. “You don’t.”
And then, before she could reply, he gripped her hips tightly, withdrew to the tip, and drove into her.
Lara started to tremble.
Oh Gods, he was fucking her now—as she’d demanded.
This position, this angle, was intense. She could feel every inch of him, and when their bodies met, and he was buried to the hilt inside her, she clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails biting deep.
Her tongue traced her lips, and her eyelids fluttered.
She ground herself against him and was rewarded by a choked groan.
An instant later, he plunged into her again, harder still, and it was her turn to moan.
Heat started to pulse in her lower belly.
His prick rubbed up against a place that made her shudder and gasp.
She could feel herself starting to unravel, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Wet heat flooded through her loins.
“You’ll be the end of me,” he growled, fucking her hard now. “You know that?”
Lara swallowed a sob. No, he’d be her downfall. He already was.
Her pulse went wild then. His thrusts were deeper, more punishing. Something feral quickened inside her. He was relentless. Pushing her. Testing her.
“Oh, Gods!” Pleasure twisted and pulsed through her womb. She writhed against him, her head falling back as ecstasy pounded through her.
Alar slammed savagely into her. The heat of his release flooded through her loins. Letting go of her hips, he gripped the sacks on either side of her, bracing himself. His head had snapped back, his face twisting. A hoarse cry ripped from his throat.
Breathing hard, Alar bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. His body trembled in the aftermath of his climax. His eyelids stung, his throat thickened.
Ashes. He had to regain control.
Lara didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Their labored breathing filled the storehouse.
They stayed like that for a while, him still buried deep inside her.
Eventually, Alar raised his head, eyes opening. Steeling himself, he looked at his wife.
She stared back. Her cheeks glistened in the light of the glowing lantern. Earlier, when she’d come, it had flared bright. He’d barely noticed though. He’d been too far gone. And now, his chest constricted. She was weeping.
Swallowing, he raised a hand, brushing away the tears with his knuckles.
Before meeting this woman, words had come easily to Alar. But now they deserted him. He couldn’t apologize—not after his disastrous attempt earlier. He couldn’t make light of this though, or pretend everything was fine.
It wasn’t.
They’d both needed this, but sex couldn’t fix what was broken between them. It couldn’t rewrite the past. He didn’t know what to say.
“This never happened,” Lara whispered finally.
He nodded, even as his gut clenched. “Is that what you want?”
“Aye.”
Their gazes fused. “Then I will respect your wishes,” he said, hating how wooden he sounded. “I will also keep my distance from now on.”
Her pine-green eyes glittered. Fuck. He couldn’t leave things like this.
“I swear it on my mother’s memory … but know this.” Catching her hand in his, he lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “You’re the only beautiful thing in this Gods-forsaken world.”
Lara entered the roundhouse first. Alar would wait outside for a while. The hearth glowed at the heart of the space. Slumbering bodies, wrapped in cloaks, lay around it. Skaal had stretched out before Cailean and Bree’s alcove, her snores rumbling through the shadowed interior.
Lara darted for her own alcove, pushing the curtain aside and letting it fall behind her.
And only then did she let herself go. Hands lifting to her face, she lowered herself to the sheepskin rug. The dyke gave way, and hot tears coursed down her cheeks. A sob clawed up her throat, but she choked it down.
No. She couldn’t crumble.
The Shattered Crown awaited her, and so did an important task. The shadows that were slowly smothering Albia had to be driven back. The rift her ancestors had made had to be mended. She couldn’t focus on anything else.
She wouldn’t let him break her.
But tears still flowed, and the ache in her chest was almost unbearable. It was just as well she was strong, for life seemed intent on testing her mettle. Tonight, she walked upon a knife-edge edge though. Her defenses were brittle, and her frenzied coupling with Alar had left her fragile.
Hiccoughing, she climbed to her feet and did her best to scrub away her tears. “Pull yourself together, woman,” she whispered. “You’ve cried enough over him.”
She moved then over to the shelf where her rosewood figurines sat. Their polished surfaces gleamed in the light of the flickering cresset on the wall above.
Lara picked up the figurine of The Mother. Then, whispering a heartfelt prayer, she brought the idol to her lips, kissing it lightly. That was a mistake, for the gesture reminded her of Alar’s in that dusty storehouse. The pain in his eyes had been raw. The huskiness of his voice had betrayed him.
Heat washed over her as she recalled how she’d lost control. Her rage had felt good initially. Righteous. But then it had slid into desperation. Need.
I will always be sorry that I can never rebuild what I broke.
Gods. The anguish in his voice.
Tears rolled down her cheeks once more. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers tightening around the figurine.
“Hold fast,” she whispered.