Promised to the Swedish Prince

by Sasha Cottman

  The unbroken seal.

  “What are these?” he asked.

  “Your brother’s letters. I didn’t bother to open them after he sent the first few.”

  He frowned. Why is she reading them now?

  She rummaged through the pile and handed him a letter. “This was the first one he sent me.”

  Christian began to read.

  Countess Erika Jansson,

  It is often thought that a goodly wife is more advantageous to a man than one blessed with a fair appearance. I happen to agree with this sentiment.

  Christian’s gaze lifted from the paper and to Erika. She was holding a second letter out toward him.

  “This was the next one he sent me. I got as far as the third page then stopped reading. After that I just used to bring them in here and throw them in the box without bothering to open them,” she said.

  He started reading this next letter.

  The correct method of treating a tendon injury in a horse is to rest the animal. Check regularly to see if the inflammation has lessened.

  Erika gathered her skirts and got to her feet. After picking up the letters, she placed them on the small table which sat at the far end of the low leather couch. The library was like most other rooms in the house—small—but it was cozy rather than cramped.

  She took the letter from Christian’s hand and flicked it toward the box. It missed.

  “I will pick it up and read it tomorrow,” she said.

  Stepping past him, she made it most of the way to the door before turning back. “Congratulations on the trade agreement. That is a major achievement. Pappa is beside himself with joy.”

  Christian couldn’t fail to notice the lack of warmth in Erika’s voice. The flatness of it tore at him. At this very minute, he didn’t give a damn about the bloody trade agreement. He had to know more about the letters. “Why are you reading Gustav’s missives? If you didn’t care for what was in them before, why bother now?”

  “Because I am to sail back to Sweden next week and inform King Charles of your success with the trade agreement. It doesn’t matter that you and I were betrothed. Pappa says Gustav and I still have a duty to wed. Which means that Gustav will expect me to have read all his letters, including the one you brought with you.”

  Erika put a hand into the pocket of her skirt. “Take this please. I have no further use for it.”

  Christian held out his hand as Erika dropped an object into his palm. She closed his fingers over it and gave a soft sigh. By the time he unfurled his fist to see what it was, Erika had already made it out into the hallway.

  The tiger’s eye ring glistened as it came into the light and his heart sank. Their betrothal was at an end.

  Erika is going to marry Gustav.

  He let that painful thought settle in his mind for a moment. The trip to London had always had two goals. One being the trade agreement with Britain—something vital to his country’s world interests. But the second had come to be just as important to him.

  Erika.

  After all he had been through, he was not going to fail when it came to be winning her heart. Unless she told him straight to his face that she was in love with Gustav and would never be his, Christian wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not ever.

  Chapter Thirty

  As soon as she reached her bedroom, Erika dismissed her maid for the evening, explaining that she would handle her hair and toilette herself. The second the door closed; she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  If she let the tears come now, they would never stop. On the slow sea voyage home to Sweden, in the privacy of her cabin on board the Northern Lion, there would be plenty of time for crying. For moments of regret and fear for the future which lay before her.

  Taking a seat in front of the dressing table, she slowly, methodically pulled out the pins and ribbons which had held up her hair. The repetitive nature of the task helped to calm her mood.

  As the last of the ribbons were removed, long blond locks tumbled down her back. She checked her reflection in the mirror. A sad young woman stared back. With brush in hand, Erika began to tease the light tangles from her hair.

  What had Gustav said in his first letter about a woman’s looks?

  A wife should be respectfully and demurely dressed. Her hair worn in a tight braid and pinned out of the way.

  Prince Gustav had an opinion on every subject. She was certain that her future husband would make sure that she was well versed in all of them.

  A knock roused her from her musings. She turned as Christian stepped into the room and closed the door quickly behind him. There was a soft click as the key was turned in the lock.

  He stood for a moment silently holding her gaze, then lifted his hand and held out a letter. “I brought this with me from Sweden. I think you should read Gustav’s most recent missive.”

  She took the letter and broke the wax seal before handing it back to Christian.

  “You may as well read it to me. We both should hear what he has to say,” she replied.

  Christian unfolded the paper. It took only a moment for his face to screw up in anger. “Among other news, this is what my dear brother has felt the need to impart.”

  Despite my protestations, Christian has been sent to London to understudy your father and Baron von Rehausen. I find this a most alarming development.

  He ran his finger over the page humming as he did. “Gustav talks a lot about his military appointment and its importance. Ah! And now he goes back to me.”

  My brother fancies himself in love with you. I trust you find this as disturbing a notion as I do. Countess Erika, you must resist any and all attempts on Christian’s part to win your favor. The agreement between my father and Count Jansson must be upheld.

  He glanced up from the letter and their gazes met. Erika’s heart pounded at a fierce rate in her chest. For Gustav to have such concerns about Christian being in love with her, there had to be some truth to the rumor.

  Was this why he was here? She could only pray it was.

  “And do you fancy yourself in love with me?” Erika turned in her seat. She couldn’t bear to look at him if the answer was no.

  He crossed the floor in two quick strides and came to stand behind her. Their gazes met once more through the mirror.

  “No, I do not fancy myself in love with you. I know. I have had feelings for you for quite some time—even before you left Sweden. Trying to understand the depth of my emotions for you was one of the main reasons why I came to England,” he replied.

  “Christian?”

  “What I thought I felt for you then, is nothing compared to what we have now. Every moment spent with you is pure magic. Remember at the betrothal ball you said you felt like you were in a story from folklore? Well I did too."

  His hands settled gently on her shoulders, his thumbs tracing light strokes over the skin at the base of her neck. Erika shivered at the thrill. So many times, she had longed for him to touch her this way, to be this close.

  “Yes. I am certain of my love for you, but I need to hear how you feel about me. Is there a chance that you could ever be mine or are you already his and my quest is in vain?”

  She closed her eyes and smiled, letting his declaration sink in.

  He loves me.

  “I have never been his, and your quest is not in vain,” she whispered.

  A warm hand drew her hair to one side and a soft, tender kiss was placed on the nape of her neck. It was followed by a second. Erika luxuriated in the heady sensation of Christian’s touch.

  “Are you mine?” he asked.

  His hot breath on her skin had her swallowing deeply. She nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “I love you, Christian. I cannot remember a time when I did not.”

  Fingers speared into her hair and gripped. Erika lay her head back as Christian loomed over her and took her mouth in a heart-stopping kiss. She shifted on the seat, allowing him a bet
ter position in which to hold her.

  His tongue delved between her lips and tangled with hers. It was clear Christian was holding nothing back.

  She groaned. This was a kiss. Raw, savage and powerful. The moment between a man and a woman where all the barriers of social niceties were torn down and naked passion was laid bare.

  Her hands sought his jacket, holding tight—anything to anchor herself in the swirling maelstrom.

  Christian pulled back, his breath coming hard. “We had better stop. I’m not certain I can keep control if we don’t.”

  She twisted out of his embrace and got to her feet. He had taken the chance in coming to her room, knowing that she may well reject him. That bravery was not going to go unrewarded.

  “Don’t stop anything.” Without further ado, Erika made straight for the door. After double-checking that it was secure, she pulled the key out of the lock and put it in a nearby drawer. She returned to his side and slipped her arms about his waist. “Have I made myself clear enough?”

  His gaze searched hers. There was a sense of hesitation about him. Her message had got through, but he was still unsure. She huffed as his brows knitted in obvious concern.

  “I want you to lay with me tonight. Make me yours in every way possible.”

  “But what about Magnus? I should be speaking to him first, making a formal offer of marriage before you and I become one,” he replied.

  Erika shook her head. “The only way my father is going to yield and agree to our union is if he has no other option. He likes you, Christian, but he will still feel duty bound to send me home. We have to make this decision for him—for us.”

  The English had a word for it. When a young woman had been scandalously seduced and was therefore no longer pure in the eyes of society, she was considered ruined.

  Reaching up on her toes, Erika placed a soft, seductive kiss on Christian’s lips.

  “Take me to bed. Ruin me. Then my father will have no choice other than to let us marry.” She pressed herself flush against his body, stilling when the hardness of his erection poked into her belly. Good. He wants me.

  “You are just like the goddess Hnoss tonight, full of desire and lust,” he murmured.

  Erika held her hand against the placket of Christian’s trousers and gently squeezed. She had read books and listened to enough gossip at parties and balls to have a good idea as to what she was doing, how touching him this way would get her what she wanted. “Enough talking,” she whispered.

  He reached for the row of tiny buttons on the front of her gown, flicking the first of them undone. She wasn’t going to stop him.

  One by one, the fastenings were opened. His ragged breath was the only sound in the room as he tugged the top of the gown slightly open. He touched the skin between her breasts. As his fingers splayed over her bare flesh, her nipples peaked.

  With a groan, Christian took hold of either side of Erika’s gown and ripped it open. She gasped as the chill night air kissed her heated skin. He dropped to his knees, pulling the gown down with him. “Is this the moment when I give thanks to every Nordic god that you haven’t taken up the English habit of wearing all those undergarments? That you dress in the deliciously tempting French manner?”

  He gazed from her shoes to her stockings, to the rest of her naked body. A salacious smile fixed to his face.

  “Now where to begin?” he pondered out loud as he knelt before her. “Ah, yes, here will do nicely.”

  Cupping one of her breasts, he brought his mouth to the hard nipple and nipped at it. She shuddered at the sensation. The books hadn’t ever mentioned that happening.

  His lips returned and he drew her tight bud into his mouth and sucked hard. Heat pooled in her loins. When his hand went to her other breast and tweaked her nipple, she whimpered. She had never imagined sex could be this good. And they were nowhere near the main event.

  Erika was fast becoming a quivering mess when Christian finally released her breasts from his attentions. She went to take a step back, assuming he would want her on the bed, but he put his hands around her hips and drew her to him once more. If he was going to continue to torture her nipples, she wasn’t sure she could handle much more.

  When he sunk down and speared his tongue into her heated sex, Erika’s thoughts went into a scramble. It was all she could do to place her hands on his shoulders and hold on in an effort to remain standing. He worked the tip of his tongue over her sensitive bud, rolling it around and around, then flicking up. She sobbed, completely at his mercy.

  Erika’s breathing grew shallower with his every attention. She moaned with need as he licked, sucked and teased. Any moment now, she was going to explode.

  He placed one last kiss on the tip of her swollen sex, then sat back on his haunches. His smile reminded her of a cat that got the cream—deeply satisfied.

  Christian got to his feet and towed Erika toward the bed. He sat her down. Held enraptured, she enjoyed the seductive sight of him quickly dispensing with most of his clothes.

  When he finally came back to her, he was clad only in his trousers. “This was supposed to happen on our wedding night. And I have fantasized many times about watching you remove this last piece of clothing, unwrapping my special gift of love to you.”

  She sat forward on the bed and lay her fingers on the top button of the placket of his trousers. With a sure heart and determination, she freed it from the buttonhole. Her attention shifted to the middle button.

  “Oh,” she gasped as his erection sprang free.

  For a moment she simply sat and stared, unsure of what to do. He was long and thick. Should she touch it gently? Or do as some of her married friends had advised and grasp it firmly and run her hand up and down?

  Christian bent and kissed her lips. “Don’t be afraid. I know what to do.” He took her hand and placed it over his cock, groaning as she stroked him.

  This part she did remember hearing in great detail while sitting in the back of a ladies retiring room at a ball earlier in the year. English girls might well be polite in public, but they did like to discuss sex. “Is that good?” she asked.

  “You have no idea,” he replied, breathlessly.

  She continued to hold him, stroking the length of his engorged shaft before pulling gently on the underside of the head. He grew harder as his breathing came in ever-increasing gasps.

  “Enough. I don’t think I can last if you keep going.” He brushed her fingers away from his manhood, giving her another long deep kiss.

  Erika took that as her reward for a job well done. It was encouraging. It meant he liked her caressing him, enjoyed the way she gave him pleasure. All good signs for a long and happy life of sharing the marital bed.

  “Lie back for me,” he said.

  Erika moved over as far as she could on the narrow mattress, opening her legs as Christian climbed on and rose over her. Her back arched as he slipped a thumb into her wet heat and began to stroke. She gripped the bedcovers and closed her eyes.

  “Christian,” she panted.

  Touching herself this way had always been satisfying but having the man who loved her doing so was divine. It was as if Christian had been given a map to all the most secret of her pleasure spots and he was now taking his time exploring each one. It was tempting to let him bring to her to completion this way, but she needed more. “Please, Christian. I want you.”

  He withdrew his hand and taking hold of his cock, gave it several quick pumps. It was rock hard when she reached out and ran her fingers down its length once more.

  “I think you are ready for me. Now try and relax—this might be a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise to make it good. And then when we do it again it will be amazing,” he said.

  She would have said something about him being prideful and making a jest of his remark, but her mind was captured by the sensation of Christian pushing slowly into her. Her body tensed and she closed her eyes in an effort to relax and not think of the pain she had been told would
come with her first time.

  “Look at me, Erika,” he said.

  As her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze took in the tenderness of his face.

  Love shone in Christian’s eyes. “From this moment on, there is only us. Never doubt my love for you or my fidelity.”

  Trust Christian to say the exact words she needed to hear. To know that it would be just them, no one else. That no matter what, he would be true to her. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, loving kiss.

  “It has only ever been you,” she whispered.

  He pushed in farther, then with one last thrust, he was fully seated within her body. He let out a sigh. “You have no idea how long I have wanted you. To take you and make you mine. And now you are.”

  His hips began a slow rolling motion as he worked his cock into her. Erika’s gaze remained fixed on Christian’s face, studying the passion which was etched in his features. Watching him make love to her was endlessly fascinating—she could have done it forever.

  Slipping a hand between them, he rubbed her sensitive nib, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. She was close to release.

  “Christian,” she sobbed.

  He picked up the pace, thrusting into her faster, gripping the side of her hips as he ground the base of his hard erection against her. The overwhelming pressure built higher and higher. Erika closed her eyes, and in an instant her world shattered.

  As wave after wave of orgasm hit, Christian silenced her cries of ecstasy with his mouth. He pounded into her, and it was all Erika could do just to hold on and let him take her. This was wild, raw and everything she had ever hoped sex could be.

  He thrust in deeply one last time, then growled, “Erika, oh god,” before collapsing on top of her.

  Christian was finally hers.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him as a slow smiled reached her lips. They had done it. If this first time was supposed to only be good, she couldn’t wait until they did it again.

  They settled together under the blankets, cocooned in the tiny bed. Christian lay on his back, with Erika slumped across his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat pulsed against her cheek.