Chapter 4 #2
Torsten shrugged the question away. “I’ve been stung so many times that another sting or three will hardly matter. It’s all in good cause anyway. A life without honey is not worth living in my opinion. I will not have this on my conscience.”
Aife melted. What had she done to deserve such a good friend? “Well, then, if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
With careful gestures, Torsten inserted his hand into the hive.
He had rolled his sleeve up to the elbow and Aife was fascinated by the way the muscles rippled under his skin.
She held her breath when she imagined the bees crawling over his naked arm.
If they decided to defend themselves against the intruder, he would suffer.
But if the expression on his face was to be believed, the bees had decided not to bother him.
Seeing that he’d not been stung on her account, she allowed herself to relax.
A moment later, he lifted his hand back up just as carefully as before and she saw that his index and middle finger were coated in sticky, golden honey.
He lifted the hand above his mouth and allowed some of it to dribble onto his tongue.
Realization hit.
If she wanted to taste the honey—and she dearly wanted to—she was going to have to lick his fingers clean. Not once since she had agreed to follow him into the woods had she considered that such a lewd act would be required.
Aife’s gaze met Torsten’s and heat bloomed between her legs. This was a lot more evocative than she had counted on. Where was the fearless warrior now, she wondered? Reduced to a puddle on the forest floor, it would seem.
Not waiting for her to change her mind, Torsten slowly brought his hand to her mouth.
“Open.”
Utterly under the spell of the moment, Aife did as instructed, and welcomed the two fingers he was holding out between her lips.
Refusing was not an option, even if accepting felt positively scandalous.
She sucked at the thick substance he’d gathered for her.
Everything within her exploded when divine taste hit her tongue.
Her eyes fluttered shut and a groan escaped her lips.
This was truly delicious, even sweeter than she remembered.
How had she deprived herself of that treat for so long?
Greedy for more, she licked and licked, swirling her tongue until, at last, he was clean.
Still, Torsten seemed reluctant to move and take his fingers out of her mouth.
Eventually, he did.
Crossing his arms over his chest he leaned back against the tree, looking rather satisfied with himself. “That good, huh?”
“That good,” she whispered back. “Better.” Was it because he’d made her suck the honey from his own fingers that she had enjoyed the wonderful flavor so much, Aife wondered?
Had it somehow added to the experience? Would it have been the same if he’d handed her a wooden spoon? Somehow she didn’t think so.
Very conscious of the fact that, this time, she couldn’t pretend Edita was looking and that Sven wasn’t anywhere to be seen, Aife lifted her head to Torsten, readying herself for a kiss.
It seemed the perfect conclusion to the moment they had shared, the only appropriate way to thank him for taking her to the woods and ensuring she would not deprive herself of a delicacy any longer.
Would he respond to the silent invitation?
To her relief and delight, he did.
Their first kiss by the forge had been shocking.
The second one, after she’d been stung by the bee, had been chaste, little more than a friendly peck.
The third one, when she’d pretended Edita was watching, had scorched her insides.
This fourth one was heart-stoppingly sweet, and she was certain it was not due to the honey they had both just eaten.
Granted, Torsten’s tongue was slick with its floral taste, but it was the way he was holding her, careful, reverent, that gave it a special flavor.
It was as if he thought her beautiful and precious.
And in that moment, she did feel beautiful, precious—and desirable.
It was not just in her mind either. Against her stomach was the proof that Torsten was reacting like a man would at the proximity of a woman he found attractive.
It was exactly what she had hoped to see for years, the proof that men could want her in their bed.
It was enough, for now.
Torsten wanted her, and yet he was not trying to take advantage of her.
They were alone, they were kissing, he could have been forgiven for thinking he could try to coax her into offering more.
But he had not even tried to deepen the kiss.
He was savoring her, behaving as if holding her into his arms was a pleasure in itself, as if the kiss were enough to satisfy him.
She drew away, one hand on his chest, the other around his trim waist, both touched by his restraint and grateful that he’d shown her there was nothing wrong with her. And for the first time she wondered if she had not been dazzled by the wrong brother.
“So?” Torsten’s voice had become impossibly low and husky. “Have you changed you mind?”
“Changed my m-mind?” she stammered. Did he know she had been reconsidering what she thought of Sven? How? Could he read her mind?
“About honey.”
Oh, honey… Of course. “Yes. I think it—”
“What the fuck?”
The voice booming from behind her caused Aife’s insides to curdle. No!
The last thing she wanted right now was to be interrupted and the last person she wanted to see was the one standing by the tree, no doubt glaring at her.
“Moon.”
Disentangling herself from Torsten’s embrace as naturally as she could, she turned to face her brother. Her very irate brother. Had he seen the kiss? Or had he merely happened upon them locked in an intimate embrace and drawn his own conclusions? Either way, it was clear he didn’t approve.
“What is this?” he growled, taking a step forward. “Never mind, I can see what it is for myself. Sister, move away so I can throttle the traitor.”
“Calm yourself. No one is going to throttle anyone,” she said, placing herself squarely in front of him, knowing he would never risk hurting her by trying to barge past her, no matter how furious he was.
Behind her, Torsten was wisely keeping silent, letting her handle her brother how she thought best. A protest from him now would not help. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.”
That was true, at least, the kiss they’d shared had felt anything but wrong.
“You mean that you weren’t kissing? Because it sure as hell looked as if you were about to—”
“Even if we were, it would be nothing to do with you.” Another truth. She was old enough to decide whom she kissed or didn’t kiss. It had nothing to do with her brother.
Moon’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t try to push past her. “You mean that you two are not involved? He’s not lain with—”
This time she and Torsten spoke at the same time, before he could finish the sentence. “No!”
There was such conviction in their voices, such shock on their faces that Moon’s shoulders visibly relaxed. Disaster had been averted.
“Well then, there’s no harm done.” He gestured to Aife, his gaze still on his friend. “Come. Let me escort you back to the village.”
“I don’t need your—”
This time he did look at her. His blue eyes were sending shards. “Aife, either you come with me now or you watch as I have a man-to-man discussion with our friend about what is the acceptable way to hold my little sister.”
She sighed, knowing she would never win this battle. It was already a miracle Moon had chosen to give them the benefit of the doubt and had not pounced on Torsten.
“I’m coming.”
After one last look at Torsten, she followed her brother.