Chapter 26 #2
Ormr was silent for some time, then added as if a minor side note: “My brother understands the power I wield; I have been able to wield it because I need nothing from him. He grows irritable of my command of the people. If I need this from him, he will gladly assist.”
Orabilia heard the caveat in his words. “At what cost?”
He grinned with dark delight at her understanding. “A fiery boat journey into Valhalla.”
Her thumb brushed over his lips. “Then we will have to be more cunning.”
“Cunning, yes, but I have secrets that he wants to have buried. He would be dead if he did not have the king’s backing. But he has a mouth that weaves golden thread.”
“You would kill your own brother?”
“We are the result of merely the coupling of our mother and father; we have no bond. He has attempted to kill me every year since I did him a service that kept him in power.”
“Killed you because you did him a favor?”
“He could not father a child. A flaw that would end his privilege in the court. His wife sought me out, and I provided my services and promised my silence. But she is still indebted to me—a way to keep a piece of power over him.”
“You have a child?”
He shrugged. “He looks much like his mother.” Ormr warmed at what looked like jealousy in Orabilia’s gaze. He put his arms back around her and pulled her in tight. “I have a strong desire to see you round with my child. To watch you birth my first true son into this world.”
“It sounds like you have too many already.”
He grinned, liking her barbed reply. “None would mean as much to me as the one you would birth. He would be gifted and loved tenderly by you and have your heart of a bear.”
“It could be a girl, you know. Are you so war-hungry that you don’t see the use of a girl?”
“If she is like you, she will be a queen.”
Having her there on his lap and talking of his child in her belly, he followed the urge and rocked her along the thick length of his throbbing manhood.
The thought of spilling his seed inside of her and taking his life in a new direction was thrilling.
The likes of which he’d not felt before.
He’d pursue it, even if it meant certain death.
Her eyes fluttered shut. He could see the pleasure his stimulation was causing, and for the first time in his life, he had the pungent desire to give another human, a woman, more. She was a goddess possessing him.
“Untie me,” he whispered over her lips.
Intoxicated, as if she’d been at the ale all day, she nodded and languidly kissed him. Then, she proved she was his match when she bit his lower lip. “Nae,” she responded to his request to be untied. She kissed him again.
She slipped out from under his arms and skated backward toward the cave’s entrance. Her nipples beneath her bodice were taut with arousal, and her eyes shone with excitement.
“I have a sword to retrieve.” Then she disappeared.
Ormr groaned; she was one unforeseen moment after another, and he needed days naked with her before, he fathomed, to get enough of her. Maybe even a lifetime.
He groaned again—outside, she was about to take off all her clothes, and inside, he was tied like an animal headed to the spit.
“You’re a wench!” he called after her. He heard her laughter in response.
Ormr inspected his bindings: hands tied and feet tied. Also, the tent of his erection. He had no choice; he had to roll or hop his way out the entrance to watch her and do it quickly. He did not want to miss the moment she unveiled the landscape of her entire body before diving into the water.
He was up and at the entrance in time. Her forest-colored dress was off, and she dropped her ivory-colored undergarments.
She took a steady breath, bent, and jumped into the water.
With the splash still ringing in his ears, he closed his eyes and remembered every detail: the curve of her hip, the cleft of her buttocks, the hourglass shape of her body.
He imagined the curves of her rear would be generous enough for his large hands to grasp, and grasp he would.
He desired to see her bend again, only this time his hands would smooth over her soft skin and grip her hips.
He’d luxuriate in connecting their bodies and watching the carnal possession he’d have when pressing his manhood into her.
He wanted the slip and slither of her aroused sex on him and for her cheek to turn as she looked over her shoulder at him before her mouth gasped in pleasure.
A dark cloud interrupted his heady, love-lust daydream of Orabilia. The slip and pat of wood over flat water sounded before the red-and-white-striped sails of his army’s longship sailed into the tiny, deep-water harbor.
His men had come for him. First, he felt joy at their discovery of the obscured inlet; then, he felt panic for Orabilia.
His real life—the one he’d been consciously ignoring—and his lucid dream life collided.
He cursed under his breath and had the strong desire to roll to the water’s edge and kick Orabilia’s clothes into the water to keep her safe.
But he doubted that help, and then she’d suffer the humiliation of being naked during her capture.
Instead, he swallowed down his panic and made his way, squirming, toward the far end of the cove.
He was the vision of a captive man waiting for his rescuers.
He called to them that they had to hold the ship farther out, lest it be lost in this treacherous rocky cove like his, and send just one man to get him.
In their hurry to cut him loose, retrieve him, and retreat from the enemy’s shoreline during the dangerous light of day, her clothes went unseen. Aboard the ship, he was genuinely happy to be rescued, making his fabricated capture story believable.
His men, glad to have outwitted the enemy, sailed with the wind and the northern current away from Scot Land.
Out of the inlet and into open water, Ormr took his place at the back of the longship and righted himself into his present moment.
Watching over the ship as they sailed into the calm waters of the late afternoon and set course for home, he let the thoughts of his past days wash over him.
He’d left two loves in Scot Land that day, his Ulfberht and a woman he’d never forget.
His grandmother’s words came unbidden to him then: Seek the unobtainable, and you will be blinded by love. She will outlive you and, in your absence, will suffer a fate worse than death. And your spirit, unable to succumb to the call to Valhalla, will roam these lands for eternity.
He should heed his grandmother’s advice.
Only he was nothing without the Ulfberht, and that woman…
It was several moments before he chanced a glance back.
Movement caught his eye. Something pale was crawling up the dark basalt.
It got to the top and stood. He squinted, and there, in the distance, was a tall, hourglass figure stabbing a sword into the sky. Orabilia.
A smile broke across his face, and his grandmother’s warning faded away. He’d be back.
Wait for me, he called to her, hoping their connection was strong even though it was so new.
To his surprise, her voice filled his mind: I will.