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Viking Hearts

Page 7

by Violetta Rand


  Her body shook with emotions, but she braved a quick glance at Rurik.

  “Uniting our families will only make us stronger,” Jarl Rurik said. “You will never find a better husband.”

  Gracing Ivar with the brightest smile he’d ever seen, she nodded. “I too have loved you, Jarl Ivar. My heart is filled with joy. I never imagined we could be together, for I am but a peasant girl from the woods, even if I share blood with this great family.” She gazed at Rurik, then back at Ivar. “I have no power or wealth to offer you. Only myself. Only a promise that I will be ever faithful. And that I will always love the man I met on that ship.”

  “I am still that man,” Ivar said, immediately standing. “And you are still that beautiful girl.”

  They embraced then, and the hall exploded with cheers. Ivar had waited his whole life to find love. And though it astonished him that Allfather sent him on a long voyage with his errant cousin to find it, he’d never again question Odin’s wisdom.

  “I love you, sweet Mauriana.”

  “And I love you, milord.”

  Epilogue

  Two nights later…

  In the silence of night, Mauriana risked much visiting Ivar’s chamber alone. She parted the curtains and stepped inside, finding a single oil lamp burning. She’d never been in there before and her heart thundered with fear and need. She stepped lightly past his table and chairs, finding him asleep on his bed. The dragon heads carved into the four posts were enough to change any faint-hearted woman’s mind. But Mauriana knew she was part Viking. Their hearts were forged from the same steel—the same blood pumped through their veins.

  And right now, that’s what she craved, her future husband’s warmth and strength.

  Wearing only a linen bed robe, she walked to the side of the bed Ivar was laying on. She touched his brow, his soft lips so tempting, his naked chest chiseled from stone. As she reached for him again, he stirred and groaned, then opened his eyes.

  “Mauriana?” he sat up. “Is something amiss?”

  She stepped back. “N-no.” Under the flickering light of the lamp, he resembled a god, his fierce, protective eyes heavy upon her.

  “Are you in need of something? Where are my sisters? The servants?” He started to get up, but Mauriana held up her hand.

  “Please, milord. Nothing is wrong.” Finding the fearlessness inside she knew it would take, she untied the laces on the front of her robe, then shrugged off the soft material. It pooled at her feet, leaving her naked body exposed to Ivar’s hungry eyes and the chilly air.

  He growled, drinking in every inch of her flesh. His hands fisted at his sides. “Are you a Valkyrie, sweetest girl, or my future wife, come to seduce me?”

  “I am anything you wish me to be, milord.”

  For two nights she struggled to sleep, and once she did, her mind was haunted by images of Ivar. His breath-stealing kisses and strong hands had enticed her too many times to wait until they were married. She wanted to share his bed now. She wanted to feel his shaft deep inside her, know what it felt like to be loved and possessed by the only man she’d ever love.

  “Do you know what you’re saying?” He stood slowly, keeping a safe distance between them.

  “Yes,” she said with conviction. “I give myself freely…”

  There was no time to finish her thought. His mouth crashed over hers, sucking the very breath from her lungs. He held her close, his powerful hands roaming freely down her spine. She moaned in response, opening her mouth to him, their tongues spiraling together with desperation.

  He tasted of everything she fantasized he would deep in the night.

  “I am yours forever,” he whispered, guiding her hand between his legs. “Feel what pleasure you give me.”

  Hard as steel, it didn’t frighten her, but awakened deeper emotions. In awe of his perfect physique, she slipped her arms around his waist, then stood on her toes to gain better access to his mouth. She kissed him this time, her tongue dominating his, her hands claiming the spots on his body she’d secretly dreamed of touching.

  When his hands slipped between their bodies, cradling her breasts, and his head dipped low enough so his tongue could spiral around her sensitive nipples, her knees wobbled. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, tugged her against his face, and his very wicked tongue found the bud between her legs that fueled every desire she’d felt since meeting him. She cried out his name as he licked and licked. She twined her fingers through his hair, riding his face—spurred by his increasingly relentless strokes.

  Thrusting a finger, then two inside her, he gripped her arse cheeks, locking her against his face.

  “Ivar,” she screamed, unable to contain the sensations that peaked and retreated, then threatened to explode if he didn’t stop. “Please…”

  His silence was her only answer.

  He intensified the delicious assault, sucking on her bud, his fingers moving in unison with his tongue. As she shattered, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, then gently laid her down on her back.

  Their eyes met for the briefest moment, his dark with lust and need. No words were needed as he nudged her thighs apart, then began to untie the laces on his braes. She watched in utter fascination as his manhood sprang free, fully erect, and as long and thick as she’d hoped. Her body naturally wanted to be filled, the yearning as painful as it’d ever been. Wet with desire, she stretched her arms out, silently pleading for him to no longer wait.

  He covered her with his body, his shaft resting between her legs, pressing on her entrance.

  “Mauriana,” he whispered against her lips. “I would wait if you so wished. But if I push inside you one inch, I’m afraid I will not be able to stop myself. Tell me…”

  She thrust her hips. Nothing would ever keep them apart again.

  “I love you,” he said, pumping inside her.

  A slight burning sensation spread through her body, but once she locked her ankles behind his back, welcoming him inside her, and he began to move smoothly—the pain abated, replaced by pure pleasure.

  “I belong to you,” she said breathlessly. “And you belong to me.”

  “Yes,” he said, snapping his hips. “Mine.”

  And though she didn’t know what the future held for them, she knew she belonged with Ivar, the bravest and kindest man she’d ever met.

  The End

 

 

 


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