Chapter Eight
Svanna struggled to waking, uncertain of where she was, but a heaviness pressed on her limbs.
Her dreams were filled with running away from Turgeis in the herb garden and frantically trying to find somewhere to hide. She kept searching for Tippi to save her, but there was no answer. Eventually she discovered a safe place, a haven where she knew she would be safe.
She fumbled about for a few heartbeats, trying to get her bearings, frightened suddenly that she was back in Agthir before Maer’s return, and everything was about to crash down about her ears with Turgeis trapping her again.
She gave a little cry of distress and thrashed about with her arms, beating with her fists.
‘Rest now,’ a voice murmured in her ear and the fear vanished from her. ‘All is well. It remains far too early in the morning to emerge. Nothing happens without your consent.’
A heavy arm came across her and pulled her back against him. She knew she should make a token protest, but the feeling of being truly safe swamped her senses and she drifted off to sleep again.
She next woke with a start to the grey dimness of early morning.
One hand was tangled in his hair, while the other one was splayed over his naked chest. Somehow, during the night, their bodies had become intertwined with the furs.
Rather than having several furs between them, as had been the case when she’d drifted off, now the only thing separating her body from his naked one was her under-gown, a garment which was now rucked up about her hips.
The truth hit her—rather than maintaining her distance as she’d thought she would, when caught in her world of dreams she’d decided that snuggling close was the best option.
His arms had been the ones she’d sought during her bad dream.
She stared at the dark shapes of the tapestries on the walls and tried to make a memory to store away, but she also knew it was not what they had agreed.
How hollow her declaration of having only a platonic marriage sounded now.
He remained still and seemingly unaware that her movements had entangled their limbs. Perhaps the Norns had listened to her prayers after all.
She might exit this embrace without him ever being aware of the intimacy they had shared. The thought caused a small bubble of hope to rise within her. Perhaps everything was not as dire as she’d first assumed.
She started to ease away, removing her hand from his warm chest, but he captured it.
‘I was enjoying that.’
‘What do you mean?’ She was aware of how high-pitched her voice had become. She swallowed hard and tried again. ‘Dawn is breaking. Jobs must be attended to. You mentioned to Lord Sigmund that sailing back to Eire as soon as possible was desirable.’
‘Stay,’ he whispered next to her ear. His breath fanned her earlobe, making a warm curl start in her nether regions. ‘Like this. There is no need to stir. Yet. Rest awhile longer.’
‘Stay?’ Her voice was definitely at the top of her squeak range and hysterical laughter was about to explode, but she didn’t want to move. She wanted the warm curl thrumming inside to grow into an inferno. ‘I’m not sure that is wise. I didn’t mean to and can only apologise. We had an agreement.’
His breath traced her jawline and the need to go vanished, driven out by the insistent warm languor. ‘Apologise? For what?’
‘For disturbing your sleep.’
He smoothed a tendril of hair from her forehead. ‘I can’t remember when I last rested this easy.’
‘Blame it on Sigmund’s mead.’
His finger playfully stroked her nose. ‘Most of that ended up on the rushes when people were distracted.’
She jerked back. ‘You poured it out? Lord Sigmund takes great pride in the mead he serves.’
‘I will try to remember the next time and drink with proper appreciation, but last night was my wedding night and I had other concerns.’
His mouth returned to her earlobe, making her nipples tighten to hard points. She knew she didn’t want to move, even though it was probably the most prudent thing to do.
She forced her head to turn. ‘If you insist…we can lie like this for a short time. No harm in resting.’
He slowly relaxed his hold on her fingers. ‘There, you see. Nothing spoiling. Everything to be gained.’
The warm muscle and sinew beneath her fingertips enticed her to explore further. Her hands slipped lower towards his belly.
He caught her forefinger and raised it to his lips. ‘Don’t start anything that you don’t intend to finish, my lady fair. A friendly warning.’
Immediately, she drew her hand back. ‘A warning? How am I starting anything?’
He lifted her chin. She glimpsed the fierce light in his eyes. ‘A promise. We both know where this sort of play leads, Svanna.’
Her tongue moistened her suddenly parched lips.
He thought her experienced—he must, from his words about her knowing where this would lead—but she was a maid.
If she explained, would he believe her? She knew the horrible rumours that Turgeis had caused to swirl.
She’d heard the doggerels, even though her nurse told her to ignore them because reacting would only give them credence.
‘Do we?’
‘Yes, lots of time. The tides turn and then turn again.’
‘Why are you waiting for the tide?’
‘Because one day soon you and I will go to Eire as man and wife.’ He wrapped a tendril of hair about his forefinger. ‘But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t deeply attracted to you. You were in my dreams and now you are in my arms. I wanted to do this.’
She wet her lips. ‘Do what?’
‘This.’ He cupped his hand about her jaw and brought her mouth to his. His lips descended, seeking rather than demanding, taking their time to explore and gently persuade.
The warm curl within her grew to an insistent white heat. Every particle of her appeared to be gloriously awake and alive.
‘Shall I continue?’ he asked, moving his lips to her ear. ‘We have time.’
She knew that saying no was the last thing she wanted.
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ His mouth returned to hers and his tongue traced the outline of her lips before penetrating her.
Her body arched forward and collided with the length of his much harder one. She ran her hand down his flank, feeling the indents of the scarring which marked his body. Giving in to impulse, she pressed her lips against the smooth scar on his face.
‘I’m sorry you received this,’ she murmured.
‘Once I blamed you,’ he admitted, tangling her hair about his hand. ‘But that was wrong of me.’
‘Wrong of you?’
‘You’d no idea of my existence. You are not the sort of person to lie about something that never happened. It was an unfortunate accident.’
‘I… I know who you are now,’ she said, her voice faltering.
She knew she should tell him about the innocent flirtation and the chaste kiss they’d shared, but she worried about breaking this fragile truce which had sprung up between them.
She wanted this white heat to continue. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, making her feel precious and unsullied.
She simply wanted to be. Time enough for confessions later.
‘The time for talking has ended.’ She turned her mouth towards his and parted his lips with her tongue.
His hand slid down her back, urging her closer still, while their tongues touched, tangled, retreated and returned to tangle again.
The apex of her thighs encountered his rampant erection.
‘You see, I do want you, in case you had any doubt,’ he breathed against her ear. ‘But it remains your choice.’
Svanna knew she should be prudent and retreat from the bed, get dressed and make some transparent excuse, but somehow, she didn’t want to. Another wave of heat washed over her, leaving her body aching for the relief she instinctively knew only he could give her.
‘I’ll stay,’ she said, not giving herself time to allow reason and prudence to reassert themselves. ‘At least until the turning of the tide.’
His chest shook with barely suppressed laughter. ‘Your choice. Until the turning of the tide it shall be.’
She longed to ask what the turning of the tide actually meant to him, but decided on balance she didn’t want to appear na?ve. She simply touched his cheek in response. He turned his face to her palm.
His mouth slowly moved across her jawline before travelling down to where the neck of her gown met the beginnings of the shadowy place between her breasts. There he paused.
His hand brushed against her nipples, tracing small circles while his tongue tasted her skin, drawing ever-increasing circles.
Her nipples became hardened points under his ministrations and the white-hot heat increased until she felt the apex of her thighs grow slick with longing.
Her back arched, seeking relief in the shadowy place between her thighs which she knew his touch would bring.
But he ignored her arching and the faint mewling in the back of her throat.
Instead, he slowly took one nipple then the other one into his mouth and suckled, while his fingers drew patterns on her belly.
All about her, the room exploded in stars.
Slowly, the world righted itself. She found him still and staring at her.
‘Shall I continue?’ he rasped in her ear. ‘Say it, Svanna.’
‘Please.’ She nodded, knowing more words were beyond her. She tugged at his arms, and her body bucked upwards once again. He traced the line of her jaw.
‘I believe I know the solution.’
His knee wedged her thighs open. His hands travelled lower and played in her nest of curls. Round and round until she grew slick.
She moaned in the back of her throat and clawed at his shoulders.
He placed a moist finger against her lips. ‘Impatient?’
His finger traced the outline of her mouth before delving in. She drew it into her mouth and jammed her hips upwards.
Her middle encountered his groin, and she instinctively adjusted her position, spreading her knees wide so that he could impale himself deep within her.