by Sasha Gold
Ragnar sensed her pain and winced as the ache squeezed his heart. She’d told him about her parents before they’d landed on Doranna. He’d been surprised then. Telling him about her sister seemed so much more personal. He could hear the way her voice shook with emotion.
They ascended the stairs and Ragnar set his hand on her lower back and led her down the hallway to his mother’s chambers.
“They say it’s better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all,” Natasha said quietly. “But I don’t believe that.”
The heaviness in his chest kept him from replying and the best he could manage was a brittle nod. He pressed his lips together, determined to show Natasha the love that would grow between them would wash away the sadness and loss. One day they would welcome a child into the world. If the Celestial Forces were willing, it might even happen before his mother passed. She’d yearned for grandchildren for so long.
“I see why you want to return to Andromeda. To visit your sister’s grave.”
Natasha shook her head. “She was lost. They told me it was an accident. There was nothing to bury. That’s what makes it so hard.”
They stopped at his mother’s door and he cupped her face. Stroking his thumb under her eye, he wiped a tear that had fallen. He didn’t know what to say. Burying a loved one was important. His father’s death had been a terrible blow to the family, but at least they’d had a body to bury. He and his brothers tended the royal grave regularly. He couldn’t imagine the pain Natasha suffered.
Lowering, he brushed a kiss across her lips. “I will do everything I can to find her remains and bring her to Jaegar. We’ll have a funeral and a memorial for your sister.”
Natasha looked stunned. Her tears fell freely and he pulled her into his arms. For a long while, he held her until the tears stopped. Holding her while she cried felt like a precious gift.
He knocked softly and when his mother answered, he pushed the door open and drew Natasha inside. The air in the room usually felt heavy and breathing was difficult, but tonight it felt different to him. Lighter. Fragrant and fresh. To his surprise, his mother sat up in the bed.
“So, it’s true,” she said, her voice a weak rasp.
He released Natasha’s hand and lowered to the kneeler on the side of the bed. Bowing his head, he waited for his mother’s touch.
She set it lightly on his head, murmuring softly, “My sweet Ragnar. I worried about you getting into mischief on Andromeda.”
“Just a little, Mother. But I returned with my prize. My Prima.”
A sharp breath came from behind him. Natasha had argued throughout the entire dinner, but now she was quiet. No argument came from her now. Something had changed in the moments outside his mother’s bedroom door. She looked at him warily, but didn’t refute his words.
“An Andromedin?” his mother asked. “One of their lovely Nymphs?”
Ragnar lifted his head. “She was a Maiden when I found her.”
Behind him, Natasha cleared her throat. “He didn’t find me. And I am still a Maiden.”
His mother laughed softly and patted Ragnar on the shoulder. “Rise, my son.”
Ragnar got to his feet.
“Come here, child,” his mother said to Natasha.
She moved forward, slowly, hesitantly, her eyes etched with worry. His mother, although frail, had this effect on people. She’d ruled Jaegar single-handedly ever since Ragnar’s father had been killed in battle years ago.
“My name is Birgitta,” she said, holding out her hand. “I am…” her voice shook with emotion. “So pleased to finally meet you, my sweet child. I’ve waited so long.”
Ragnar’s mouth felt dry as he watched Natasha. He was certain she belonged to him. There was no doubt in his mind, but he was equally certain that she didn’t yet comprehend that she was his. And if she had any inkling, she couldn’t possibly fathom what that meant. To claim her fully, they’d live as man and wife. He’d bite her neck and mark her.
Natasha’s eyes shone and she swallowed hard. Her expression was open and vulnerable and his heart heated with a fierce need to wrap her in his arms.
“No one’s ever said that to me before,” Natasha said. “That they waited to meet me.”
His mother smiled, her pale eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I’ve seen you, Natasha, in my dreams. I just didn’t realize it was you.”
Natasha swayed but said nothing, only nodded.
“And here you are.” She released Natasha’s hand and plucked a box from the bedside table. Holding it out to Ragnar, she beckoned him. “You will give this to your mate. On the eve of your Tidings we’ll have a grand feast. One that I will attend and preside over.”
Ragnar’s heart thrilled to hear his mother talk about the future with such passion. How long had it been since she’d looked forward to anything? He took the ring from the velvet box. Made of gold, the heavy band was adorned with the face of a wolf. Two sparkling diamonds served as the wolf’s eyes.
“Tidings?” Natasha asked.
He put the ring on his smallest finger. The narrow span only allowed him to put it partway on, but it would keep for now. “We have two ceremonies. When the couple weds and when the couple finds they expect a child.”
“I only needed a few weeks’ time before my Tidings,” his mother added. “It was enough time for my sister to come and be by my side.”
Natasha paled and Ragnar moved to her side, tucking her into his embrace.
“Just as your sister will come…” his mother’s words faded. “I’m so tired.”
Natasha gasped softly at the comment about her sister, but Ragnar raised his hand to quiet her dismay. “Shall I call your nurse?” he asked.
His mother shook her head. “No, my sweet Ragnar. I’m just so happy. Take Natasha and enjoy your evening. There’s so much to plan. I wish to be alone. For now.”
Ragnar leaned down to kiss his mother on the forehead and drew Natasha out of the room. They walked back to his chambers in silence. He brushed his thumb over the ring and felt it’s weight, wondering how it would look on her delicate finger. He’d always imagined a sturdy, Jaegarian woman would be his mate, not a slender, slight Andromedin.
Inside his chambers, she turned to him, her eyes wide with astonishment. “She thinks I’m staying on Jaegar.”
Ragnar leaned against the door and waited for an outburst, but she seemed too shocked.
“And she said something about my sister. How could she know that I even had a sister?”
“I don’t know. She knows things because she does. She’s always been that way.”
Natasha paced the room. “I don’t belong here. I should go home. Please, Ragnar, let me go.”
He shook his head and narrowed the distance between them. Cupping her jaw in his hand, he lifted her chin.
“Don’t kiss me, Ragnar.”
He lowered to kiss her lips. She moaned softly and looped her arms around his neck. Her lips softened and parted immediately as she submitted to his kiss. He angled to kiss her more deeply, stroking her with his tongue. She sank into his arms, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.
“Stay with me, Natasha. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll search the galaxies for your sister. I’ll bring her remains back to you and we’ll bury her in my family’s private plot.”
“If she’s dead…”
“If she’s alive, I’ll bring her back to you. Safe and sound.”
She stared up at him, swaying slightly in his arms. He felt a small thrill of victory, offering something so precious to her. He’d imagined a woman would want riches, but not Natasha.
“And one day, you and I will have our own family,” he said.
“I can’t imagine something like that. I never thought it would be possible.” She smiled through her tears and he kissed her again.
“I’ll find her, if I can. I’ll give you anything you want, and you’ll stay here with me. Always.”
There it was. His bargain. She nodde
d, without hesitating. Ragnar felt a rush of warmth.
“You’re doing all this for me, Ragnar?”
“Because I love you, Natasha. I would do anything for you.”
She parted her lips with surprise, and smiled.
Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Ragnar admitted two women. Jaegarian women. They led her to an adjoining room to help her prepare for bed. When the women left, Natasha returned to the bedroom, slipping into the bed. He moved around the room, putting out the lamps, one by one. The room was lit only by the blaze in the fireplace. A soft crimson glow made the shadows dance. He undressed down to a pair of briefs and lay down beside her.
“I’m not trained for marriage, or pleasing a man. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
“When the time comes and you’re ready, you’ll come to me, wanting me to claim you. You’ll desire it as much as I do.”
He took her hand in his and slipped the ring onto her finger. She gave a soft murmur of surprise, but accepted the ancient heirloom without flinching. His heart warmed. He imagined pressing her back to the bed with more kisses, but he would allow her to come to him. If she wore his ring, it was only a matter of time before he claimed her.
Chapter Thirteen
Natasha
The warmth of Ragnar’s arms made it difficult to shake off her dreams. When she came to Jaegar, she promised herself she wouldn’t let Ragnar touch her. She’d been afraid he’d treat her like a plaything. His words about being her mate and all the promises he made should have frightened her more, but at least he hadn’t coerced her into any sort of intimacy.
Or at least, there had been nothing untoward in the night. Now, as the predawn darkness outside the window gave way to the first rays of dawn, she grew aware of his palm cupping her breast. The weight of his hand sent shimmers of arousal across her skin. A soft moan escaped her lips. She hadn’t meant to respond in any way. The sound came unbidden.
The night on Jaegar had been as cold as the night on Doranna. She’d been grateful for his warmth and the shelter of his arms.
Ragnar was fast asleep, judging from his deep, even breathing, but not so fast asleep that he hadn’t noticed her response. He gave her an answering sound, a deep rumble that reverberated against her. He stroked her nipple with his thumb and she arched beneath his touch. It was as if her body had a will of its own and wanted more of Ragnar’s attention.
“Little Natasha,” he murmured. “Your body has changed.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I don’t understand why.”
“It’s simple. Because you’re my mate.”
The idea went against everything she stood for and all her training. From her early beginnings in the Maiden program, when she had been only thirteen, she’d taken pride in her work. She, along with the other Maidens, had disparaged the Nymphs’ life of motherhood and family, but now that she knew Ragnar’s touch, she couldn’t deny the attraction that coursed through her veins.
She wanted to submit to his seduction. She wanted the things he wanted, like family and a home. The only reason she hadn’t wanted those things before was because she couldn’t imagine they’d ever be offered to her.
He pulled her against his chest. His arousal pressed into the curve of her bottom. To her utter shock, her reflexes took over. She wriggled against him. He responded by bringing his hand down on her bottom. A quick, playful smack on her ass. The air shot from her lungs with a loud huff and she mentally replayed what had just happened.
“You smacked me,” she said in disbelief. “You hit me on my backside.”
“Be quiet, Natasha. It’s too early for arguments.” He ran his hand up her body and back to her breast. Giving it a slight squeeze, he laughed softly. “I think you liked it.”
To her mortification, a strange sort of response had come over her body, especially across her chest. Her breasts felt heavy and taut and tingled with an odd sensation. Her nipples tightened into stiff peaks beneath his thumb.
“Natasha, you know nothing of the pleasure a man can give a woman.”
The comment was more a statement than a question, yet he waited for a response.
“Of course not. How would I?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Say yes.”
“Yes?”
What was he talking about? Yes to his comment about pleasure or something else? Before she could ask, he’d rolled her to her back and tugged her gown lower. The gauzy material was no match for his powerful hand. With a quick pull, her breasts spilled from the snug bodice. A slow breath eased from her lips and she closed her eyes as the cool morning air washed over her breasts. She should push him away. She should protest his barbaric treatment of her, but could summon no words.
He kissed her neck and moved lower to her collarbone. With the tip of his tongue, he traced a line across her shoulder. He pushed the torn fabric away to bare her breasts and kissed a trail down her chest until he reached the aching peak of her breast. His mouth felt hot against the tender flesh. When he sucked her nipple, she whimpered.
Lifting her hands to his head, she threaded her fingers through his hair and held him to her breast. His mouth felt glorious pressed against her. When he stroked her with his tongue, she thought she might lose her mind entirely.
“Ragnar,” she breathed. “It’s almost too much for me.”
He lifted his head and smiled, his eyes lit with a feral gleam. “Tell me to stop then, little one.”
Her breaths came in shallow gasps. In the furthest recesses of her mind she tried to summon the words to stop him, but couldn’t make herself say anything. Instead, she writhed beneath him, doing everything she could to entice him to continue. She needed his touch. It was more than desire. It was as if her body hungered for him. Maybe, on some primitive level, her body recognized him as her mate, just as he claimed his wolf knew she belonged to him. Until now, she hadn’t believed a word of what he’d said about fated mates.
With a soft growl, he lowered to her breast and flicked his tongue across the nipple.
“Please,” she breathed. “Don’t stop.”
He growled again and moved to her other breast. She could tell he enjoyed teasing her. He alternated between gentle strokes of his tongue and sucking her nipple into his warm mouth. Her restlessness grew. She squirmed beneath him, not fully understanding what she needed, but trusting him somehow to know.
He kissed the swell of her breast and lower. When he reached her stomach, he nipped her playfully and hooked his thumb under the edge of her panties. The sound of tearing fabric was followed by him nudging her thighs apart with his immense shoulder. Just as her thoughts cleared enough for her to understand what he intended, his pressed his mouth between her legs, firmly against her intimate flesh.
Her legs trembled. Small, wild sounds fell from her lips. He growled his approval and stroked her with his tongue, a long, slow motion that took him to the most sensitive part of her core. She flinched when he brushed against the tender spot. Digging her fingers into the bedding beneath her, it was all she could do to hold tight and submit to his wicked torment. She panted and twisted beneath him, but he wouldn’t allow her much movement and pinned her to the bed with his arm over her hips.
Her mind was thrust into such turmoil she wondered if she were descending into madness. Just when she thought she might tumble into wild pleasure, he pushed her thighs further apart, spreading her open beneath him. Her senses erupted. Her climax gripped her with a primitive explosion of pleasure that tore a cry from her lips.
She arched and gasped for breath. Stars burst behind her eyes and she shuddered as she sank back to the bed. “Ragnar…” she whispered.
He lifted onto all fours and prowled the length of her body until he looked down at her. For a moment, she wondered if he might shift into his wolf because he looked every bit the fierce beast. His mouth curved with a smug smile. He watched her with a possessive satisfaction. She knew her response pleased him and she was struck with a desire to make him feel
the same pleasure.
“I know that men, especially Jaegarian men, like sexual pleasure.”
“We do.”
“I’m not ready for that. I’m afraid I’m too small and you’re too big.”
He stroked her hair. “We have all the time you need. I can show you, little by little, that you were made for me and me for you. I promise to go as slowly as you like.”
His words warmed her heart. He could be so gruff at times but he also had a capacity to be tender and so sweet that it made her heart beat wildly. When he touched her, she could hardly think of anything other than how wonderful it was to be by his side.
“Show me, Ragnar.” She cupped his jaw. “I want to please you. I want to know how to make you feel what you made me feel.”
“Aren’t you the brave one.” He rubbed his thumb over her lips. “I want to fuck you. Breed you. Make you mine completely.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
He nodded. “Maybe it’s too soon for you.”
It wasn’t too soon, she wanted to say. It was impossible. Her body might have changed but there was no way they’d fit together. He was far too big for her, and even though she looked like a fertile Nymph, it was possible she’d be unable to conceive and carry a child. And yet, she yearned to know how to please him.
“Tell me what to do,” she said softly. “Tell me now. When the sun comes up, I’ll be far too shy to obey your commands.”
He moved away from her. “Take off the rest of your gown. I want to enjoy my mate’s body while she pleases me.”
His voice was rough and sent a thrill down her spine. She’d just climaxed and yet his words made her arousal stir once more. Did her voice have that effect on him?
“All right,” she said softly, noting the way his body tensed as she spoke. He liked her submissive tone and she wanted to see more of his response. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
His lips drew back with a feral smile and he watched as she tugged the remnants of her gown from her shoulders and let it fall to the bed.