He dropped the bowl and cloth on the floor and skimmed a finger over the soft curve of her calf, his gaze locked onto hers. Her eyes rounded, lips parted. A silent understanding ran between them and he saw everything he felt reflected in those pale eyes. Love, desire, desperation.
Alrek followed the line of her leg down to her foot and circled an ankle. Her pliant flesh and small frame made his muscles tense in restraint. The need to lose himself in her warred with longing to relish everything, to explore her body and show his love for her.
Leaving her ankle, he traced a path up the inside of her thigh. He groaned at the warmth of it and she sucked in a sharp breath. He shifted to sit on the bed beside her and he spotted the rapid rise and fall of her chest. His fingers pressed higher still, her heat beckoning to him. With his hand buried under her skirts, he leaned forward and she fell back, vibrant hair spilling over the pillow. Alrek drew in a heavy breath and put a hand to the side of her head so as to pause and admire her.
“You are such a beautiful Pict.”
“And you are a beautiful Viking,” she replied, her expression serious.
Her lack of a smile didn’t disturb him. He couldn’t bring himself to grin at being called beautiful, something no one else had ever called him. Handsome, aye, but never beautiful. The torrent of emotion pouring between them stole their usual humour. After this there would be no going back. Their two cultures, usually so opposed, would come together this night and even the gods would not stop them.
“Do you think perhaps the gods always intended for my voyage to end here?” he asked, voice gravelly as if he had swallowed sand.
Ilisa reached up and stroked a hand across his face, coming to rest on his jawline. “Aye, I do.”
He claimed her mouth then, confident she felt the same as he did, confident nothing would tear them apart after this. No wolves or Vikings or Picts could come between them. Her hot mouth opened to his, willing and eager. Alrek tasted her desperate need and he let his fingers slip higher until they met the juncture of her thighs. A primitive sound rose from his throat as he felt her wet heat and the evidence of her desire.
A feminine moan escaped her in response and he swallowed it, tangled his tongue with hers until they were both panting. He stroked her cleft deftly, firmly, and savoured the quiver of her legs as she parted herself wide for him. Her hands grew wild, nails digging into his back and shoulders. Their kisses increased in fervour until he was convinced he was drowning again. Drowning in her heat and taste.
The first tremors of her climax surprised him. In spite of his best attempts, he hadn’t been paying enough attention to her pleasure. Her kisses and the powerful draw of her stole his reason and his honour. Alrek took her mouth fiercely as her body trembled under his fingers. He kept up the same forceful pace until she bucked and stiffened. Ilisa cried his name but the sound came out muffled against his mouth and dampened by pleasure.
He let his fingers drop and skimmed his hand up under her gown to cup a hip. Fingers pressing into her pliant flesh, he lifted himself up to view the cloud of pleasure in her gaze and her dewy skin, slick from her climax.
“By the gods,” he spilled out, “Ilisa, I thought you a siren but you are so much more.”
“And I thought you a mere barbaric Viking but you are so much more, my Alrek.”
My Alrek. How he treasured those words. For he was hers, just as she was his now. They might not have joined yet but Ilisa was in his heart, in his soul.
“Come now, let me see you,” he said as he drew back and lifted the hem of her skirts. “The sight of your sweet body has been addling my mind since I first saw you.”
“You looked did you not?” Her lips quirked.
“A little,” he confessed. “I could not resist. I am not honourable when it comes to you, Ilisa. I am a mere mortal and you a siren. I have dreamed of your beautiful body for many a night since.”
She came up onto her knees and helped him with the laces of her bodice as his fingers fumbled with the small ties. Together they pulled it over her head,taking her chemise with it. She kneeled before him, pale, soft, curvaceous and enchanting. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in messy waves and he speared his fingers into it, tilting her head back to take his kiss.
Ilisa’s hands scrabbled across his chest and they lifted onto their knees so skin touched skin. Alrek hissed at the feel of her full breasts and tight nipples scalding him. While she kissed across his jawline and down his neck, he frantically tugged off his shirt, relieved to be free of the constricting material. His cock touched her bare stomach as he pulled her back into him. Shards of pleasurable pain shot through him and he reached down to cup her bottom, to hold her closer.
In one movement, he had her lifted, an arm keeping her pinned to him and she caught on, wrapping her legs around him and making his head spin. Arousal scented the air, her lavender fragrance mingled with it to create a perfume that proved to drive him to the edge. He manoeuvred so he sat on the edge of the bed, her legs still tangled about his waist. Ilisa rubbed herself against his shaft and his eyes threatened to roll into the back of his head.
Hands wound into his hair, she teased him with her frantic movements, though he suspected she had little intention of tormenting him. She moved on instinct, her need for relief as great as his. Alrek took a moment to lean her back so he could taste her breasts and savour the fullness of them tipped by hard nipples. She moved restlessly against his mouth while he nipped and kissed. He drew a nipple in, relishing the feel of it against the roof of his mouth and her sweet, keening response.
“Alrek,” she begged.
He could hold back no longer—any more than a man could hold back the tide. Alrek lifted her and used his hands on her hips to bring her swiftly down. He froze, his mind filled with the feel and scent of her. A cry from her cut through the haze but when she started moving, his fear he’d hurt her abated.
“By the gods, Ilisa, so tight, so hot,” he pressed through clenched teeth.
“Alrek, more,” she demanded.
His lips quirked then. His feisty Pictish woman making demands of him once more. Alrek admired the arch of her neck and pressed his lips to it as her head lolled back and he took control. Boneless in his arms, he pounded into her, fast and furious. Control deserted him. Pliant flesh, her soft words of encouragement drove him on.
Before long, her body convulsed around him. He pushed harder and watched the pleasure break across her face. Her gaze fastened onto his and her pulsing sex brought him to the brink. Hot, molten satisfaction thundered through his body and he barely withdrew in time. His seed spurted onto her stomach and between her thighs as she remained straddled across his lap, her arms around his neck, limp and satiated.
Alrek took several moments to gather his breath and he enjoyed stroking her back and the tickle of her lips as she flattened tiny, exhausted kisses to the side of his neck. After much time, he eased her off his lap and laid her on the bed. Once he had her cleaned up, he slid in beside her and she snuggled into his chest. Alrek let loose a sigh of satisfaction.
“Your bed is much more comfortable than mine.”
Ilisa giggled. “Then do not leave it.”
He pressed a kiss to her head and eyed the dying flames. “I do not intend to. Ever.”
“What do you mean?” Tension sat in her voice, making it slightly higher pitched than normal.
“I will stay,” he told her. “I cannot leave you. The gods brought me here for a reason. It was to meet you.”
“But, Alrek, ‘tis dangerous for a Viking to be in the land of the Picts.” Ilisa rubbed a hand across his chest.
“We have had no trouble since Galan left. We are bothering no one out here and few would be willing to go up against me. I can keep us safe, I promise.”
“I do not doubt it but still I fear. The world is changing so quickly, quicker than I could have imagined. The Scots will not take to you any better than my people will.” She raised herself on an elbow and peered down at him
. “I do not want to think of you coming to harm.”
Alrek cupped her cheek and smoothed a thumb across it. “Then do not think on it, hjarta mitt.”
“What does that mean?”
“My heart.” He took her free hand and pressed it to his chest. “You are my heart, Ilisa. I love you.” A smile broke across her face. To him, she glowed. His heart—the heart she owned, inhabited—swelled.
“I love you, Alrek, my Viking warrior.”
“Good.” He lifted his head to press a firm kiss to her lips. “Then it is settled. I shall stay and become a farmer.”
“What of the voyage you had planned?”
“I had intended to travel to Iceland. There is much land there.”
“So you were to become a farmer there?” Her mouth curled.
“Is that so hard to imagine?”
“Now that I have seen you work as a sheephand, mayhap not, but you are still a wild and rugged warrior. Will you not get bored of tending to sheep? Would Iceland not bring you some excitement?”
“Nay, my fighting days are behind me. I want sons and a beautiful wife. A peaceful life. I want that with you and it matters not where I am.”
“I should like children,” she said softly, resting her head on his chest once more. “Donnie and I were only married for a short while before he was killed. We had no time to try.”
Jealousy threatened to bubble in his chest but he recalled the exquisite woman in his arms and the pain she must have gone through. He was here with her now. There was no need for jealousy, selfish emotion that it was, particularly when she had suffered such loss.
“I am sorry my countrymen killed your family.”
“You are not like them, Alrek.”
He swallowed his guilt.
Chapter Eight
The following morning, Alrek insisted they ignore their duties for a while and spend some time together. After being awoken by the beautiful Viking teasing her between her thighs and a healthy dose of lovemaking, Ilisa found herself more compliant than usual. Besides, there were two of them to see to everything now. No longer would she be rushing around, fighting to keep her farm running. Her shoulders felt lighter, her mind freer.
Hand in hand, they strolled down to the beach. Ilisa paused to take off her leather shoes, eyeing the cloudless sky as she did so. Mayhap Alrek was right—his gods had blessed their union. The thunderstorms and rain had stayed away and in Pictland it rarely stayed dry for such long periods of time.
“Will you not take your boots off?” she asked.
His lips curled. “And get sandy feet?”
“Is my Viking afeared of a little sand?”
“Vixen,” he shot back, but knelt to loosen his boots and slip them off. He took her shoes from her and placed them near a rock, presumably so they’d remember where they were.
The sand warmed her feet and slipped between her toes. Alrek took her hand, his coarse palm heating the rest of her body. Had she really had this wild warrior in her bed? It seemed like a dream to her. And he loved her! As soon as the words had come from his mouth, she had understood he felt the same as her. Alrek was a good man, and he set her body and soul alight. He had proved his worth over and over since she’d rescued him. She never wished to be parted from him.
“What?”
She must have been staring. She twisted her head away to gaze out at the endless ocean. An odd thought that her lover had come from there. Ilisa had never sailed anywhere yet he had travelled far and wide. And had chosen to stay with her. The smile that refused to leave her that morning widened.
“Naught. I am just happy.”
He nodded and released her hand to wrap an arm around her waist and draw her in. Alrek pressed a kiss to her head and they headed down to the glimmering sea. Even the waves had calmed, only lapping gently at the shore. Indeed they must be blessed.
Ilisa sucked in a sharp breath when she dipped a toe into the sea. Alrek chuckled.
“’Tis cold,” she protested and jerked his arm so he’d follow her in. He let out a hiss and she giggled. “See?”
“And you braved such temperatures to rescue me,” he murmured.
“You were fortuitous indeed to survive such exposure.”
“I was fortuitous to have you happen upon me. Anyone else would have left me to die. You are a giving woman, Ilisa. I admire that about you so very much.”
Her cheeks warmed. Alrek had a way of speaking to her that was so forthright and flattering, as if he knew the words that would speak directly to her heart. “You have given me much in return.”
Ilisa stepped back from the gentle waves and settled on the sand to stare out at the horizon. Alrek didn’t join her immediately. He paused, hands propped on his hips and eyed the ocean. Would he regret being tied to the land? Her warrior was an adventurer. Would he grow bored of her eventually? “Will you miss your homeland?”
He twisted to face her, brows lifting. “Nay.”
“I would miss mine.”
He came to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. “A Viking’s culture is so strong that it carries him wherever he goes. We are explorers by nature, hungry for more.”
“And will you not wish to explore again?”
“I am not young, Ilisa, and I have found all I need right here.” A finger grazed her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “I do not doubt there shall be adjustments to be made on both sides of this, hjarta mitt, but I shall always fight for you. Never can I regret loving you.”
Inside, her heart threatened to melt. Who could resist such words? Alrek destroyed her doubts as sure as if he’d taken an axe to them. A finger still under her chin, he shifted closer and put his lips to hers. This was no desperate kiss. His lips explored hers slowly until fire kindled inside her belly and an ache gathered between her thighs. She wound her hands around his neck, fingers under his fair hair, and relished the rough tickle of his beard.
She found herself looking up at the sky as he pushed her against the sand. He loomed over her, his flexing muscles beneath his shirt and his strong features sending a flutter to her belly. To many, he would seem a dangerous man. Not to her, however. She knew of his tenderness and his honour.
Ilisa gripped his shirt and pulled him into her to press a fierce kiss to his lips. The hard body against hers made her nipples peak and more warmth surged between her sex. “I need you in me, Alrek,” she whispered against his mouth.
His slow kisses vanished, his soft hands gone. Her words had awakened the warrior and he was going to take her now. That she affected him so gave her a sense of power. She, a woman who could no more be in battle than she could take another’s life, brought this Viking to his knees. She lifted herself in invitation and he tucked an arm underneath her to bring her breasts to his mouth. Alrek nuzzled them through the material of the dress before yanking apart the laces and putting his hot mouth to her skin and nipples.
Ilisa gasped at the sudden heat and coarse hair on her tender skin. She clutched him to her, stared up at the endless sky and gave herself up to this contradictory man. So rough, so tender. Her Viking, her lover.
Taut skin met her fingertips when she tugged his shirt from his trews. She rubbed her hands up and down his back, urging him on. Raised welts—proof of his savage past—broke up the smoothness of his skin and she traced those too. Whatever had happened in Alrek’s past made him the way he was now and she could only be grateful.
The sand cushioned her body while Alrek kissed up and down her neck, leaving her panting. He took a nipple into his mouth again, the sharp relief making her cry out. She fumbled between them and slipped a hand under his trews. His arousal was hot and heavy in her hand. It pulsed with need and she curled a hand around it.
Alrek groaned. “Ilisa, you addle my mind. I cannot think when you touch me like that.”
She moved her hand up and down, and gazed into his eyes. “Then do not think.”
His blue eyes darkened and he grasped a breast before kissing her savagely. Ilisa could bar
ely break through the haze devouring her mind to keep track of what her hands were doing. Only the scent of Alrek, the feel of him, the taste of him existed now.
Impatiently, Alrek tugged up her skirts and yanked down his trews. She relished the loss of control in his wild expression. It was the same need that drove her to writhe mindlessly against him. “Inside me. Pray, Alrek, do not make me wait.”
He positioned himself over her and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She thought he would satisfy her quickly but instead he eased himself in, inch by inch, slowly joining them so she was aware of every moment until they were as close as two people could get.
Ilisa whimpered and clutched his rear, urged him on. “Make me yours.”
Like the crack of a whip, the words triggered a reaction. He used one hand to prop himself up, the other to grab her hip and he withdrew before plunging into her, fast and violently. She reared up on a gasp as liquid pleasure singed through her veins.
“You are mine, Ilisa,” he murmured hoarsely as he raked his teeth up and down her neck, and nipped at her ear.
The whispered declaration made her quiver from head to toe. She dug her nails into his skin and met every thrust. Alrek slipped a hand between them and touched her nub. Jolts of exquisite sensation fired through her and he released a growl when her body tensed around him. Harder, faster. Her mind was a whirl. The tempest of passion swept her up and dropped her in a shuddering, shaking mass of limbs as stars exploded in front of her eyes.
Her vision cleared and she watched Alrek’s face crumple with his own climax. Heat filled her as he tensed and Ilisa released a satisfied moan. The thought that right now they could be conceiving their first child made her chest swell. He relaxed against her, his weight comforting and they lay joined for a while. Ilisa treasured his heavy breaths in her hair and the thud of his heart against her chest.
Something cold tickled her feet and she let out a squeal. “The tide is coming in.”
“I know. And I care not.”
Alrek Page 7