In Bed with the Viking Warrior

by Harper St. George

  When the tip of her tongue came out to moisten her bottom lip, he was sure he must have groaned aloud. His manhood surged to life, lengthening and throbbing with need for her. The need to suck on that tantalising bit of wet flesh and lay her back on the bed was so strong that he feared he might take action before he could come to his senses. As he moved to take himself away from her, her tiny hand came out to rest on his thigh. His gaze pinned it in place. Her fingers were so close to where he wanted them, his entire body began to throb and hum in anticipation. Just a few more inches and she would know what a lecher he really was. His erection was obvious. How could she not see how he wanted her? But a glance confirmed she was too caught up in staring at his face to notice anything else.

  ‘I believe that you’d make a good husband. But...’ Her voice trailed off and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

  ‘Aye, we both know I can’t stay here. I don’t belong here.’ He finished the thought for her.

  She nodded, her eyes still wet and shiny from her tears.

  He sucked in a shaky breath. It would be impossible to leave her knowing that she was vulnerable and there was no way he could keep her safe. Then his mind cleared. In an instant he realised how he could help her. The fact that it’d give them both what they wanted notwithstanding. ‘How long do you have after your husband’s death to birth his child?’

  She frowned, two tiny lines appearing between her brows as she looked up at him. ‘Late summer, perhaps a little longer,’ she finally said. ‘Lord Oswine’s daughter was widowed a few years ago when her husband was hunting wolves. She bore his child nearly a year later and obtained a claim to his manor. But it hardly matters. It’ll be apparent soon enough that I’m not with child.’

  ‘I could—’ He broke off abruptly and raked his fingers through the short hair at the back of his head, giving it a tug. Bracing himself for her disgust, he continued, ‘I could give you a child.’

  Her brow furrowed even more. Not disgust, perhaps, but horror.

  He rushed on to explain. ‘A life for a life. This will be the only way to fully repay you for what you’ve done for me. I’ll give you my seed and we can create a life together.’

  She snapped out of her stupor and jerked away from him, rising to her feet to put distance between them. ‘Nay...nay, it isn’t right. It isn’t... It isn’t...seemly.’ Her face flamed as she gave him her back.

  Magnus stood, clenching his fists at his sides to keep from reaching out for her. It was clear that he’d overstepped his bounds. Of course he’d overstepped. A vision of what she’d look like spread out beneath him, waiting for him, forced him to close his eyes to get his body under control. ‘It wasn’t my intention to offend you. My apologies.’

  Getting her with child had simply been the best solution. She’d keep her home and livelihood. Magnus had no hesitation about her being a good mother. She’d shown herself to be caring and compassionate. Any child of hers would be well cared for. But her reaction was reasonable and he didn’t know what else he had expected. He was only glad that his tunic now covered the erection that still had the audacity to strain against his trousers.

  ‘You didn’t offend me. Shocked, perhaps, but I’m not offended.’

  He took a deep breath, getting a noseful of her scent to which his body responded with another surge of blood to his groin. He gritted his teeth to fight against himself as he stepped closer. No matter how he fought it, his hand went to her hair, sweeping it and the headrail to the side, revealing the creamy skin of her neck and her profile as she turned her head towards him. His thumb settled on the nape of her neck, making gentle circles that somehow sent frissons up his arm. ‘I only meant to help you. To offer some protection for you after I’m gone. I can protect you from him while I’m here—and know that I will not allow him to harm you while I can physically stop him—but I’ll have to leave when winter passes. I must belong somewhere. But I want to leave knowing you’ll be safe.’

  She turned then, but he didn’t let go of her hair and the resulting position left them in a near embrace as his arm hooked around her shoulder. ‘What of the child?’ she whispered. ‘Would you leave your child so easily?’

  ‘I’ve no doubt that you’ll be a fine mother, fair one. But, nay, I wouldn’t abandon you. I’ll find my place eventually and...’

  When his voice trailed away as he considered, she picked up where he’d left off. ‘You’d expect me and the child to join you?’

  Aye, that idea held appeal. His entire body warmed to it, before he got a hold of himself. He was a warrior. Warriors had families, aye, but they left them behind. She deserved better than to be left behind. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything from you. You’ve given me enough. I’ll keep you in food, coin, whatever you need.’ There was no doubt in his mind that he could provide for her. ‘I’m a warrior.’ He raised his sword hand to remind her of the scars she’d found on it, then gestured to his still-healing head wound. There were other scars he’d found on his torso as well. All battle scars made with a blade, a fist or some other weapon. Those, coupled with his memory of waking up almost burned to death after that battle, told him all he needed to know about the likelihood of his being able to have a family life. ‘I don’t think I’m meant to have a family. But I can give you one, Aisly, if you let me.’

  She sucked in a deep breath, her bottom lip trembling.

  ‘You don’t have to answer me now.’ He should let her go, take his hands from her and walk away, but they had a mind of their own. His sword hand cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing over that bottom lip, as he tightened his grip in her hair to bring her closer. ‘Just think about it. I know it’s not much that I offer you, but it’s yours if you want it. I owe you everything.’ Finally he allowed his lips to touch hers. Just a simple brush against her mouth, a barely there touch that made desire punch like a fist to his gut as it washed over him, demanding that he take more.

  She gasped, a soft sound from her throat that told him of the pleasure she felt. Magnus forced himself to let go of her and step away. She seemed dazed and he cursed himself for pushing too hard too fast. Before he did something else equally thoughtless, he turned and left her home.

  * * *

  Aisly couldn’t breathe, much less think clearly, until long after the foreigner had left her alone. She stood there for a long time. Her lips still tingled from his, her breasts were tight and achy, and the place between her thighs throbbed with need. His offer hadn’t shocked her nearly so much as her immediate need to accept. The need was what had coursed through her body, pleading with her to say ‘aye’ to him. The need was what had frightened her so much that she’d had to put distance between them to even have a hope of thinking through what he’d said. A child shouldn’t be decided on a whim and certainly not when she wasn’t certain the urge to agree hadn’t stemmed solely from her desire for him.

  These things needed to be decided with clear minds and bodies that weren’t throbbing.

  Tightening her arms across her chest, she endeavoured to get her trembling under control. The abbess was due any moment and it would be unseemly to welcome the woman in her current state. Realising that her face still flamed, she hurried to the bucket of fresh water and splashed some on her face. It didn’t stop the searing hot visions that played through her head. All of them involved the foreigner touching her with his hands, his mouth...every part of his body actually. They shocked her, but they did nothing to make her body stop responding as if he was there actually doing those things to her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Aisly grabbed a handful of rushes and cut through the thin stalks with her knife. They were damp from the sprinkle of rain they’d had that morning, but a few minutes by the fire would dry them for tonight’s feast. The pleasing, sweet scent of the grass wafted up to her nose and made her smile. That scent never failed to make her remember all the times she’d done th
is very same task as a child alongside her mother. There was a song her mother had sang as they worked and she thought of it now.

  Sunlight lit her hair with fire and kissed her cheeks with gold,

  So that in the winter she could shine and warm away the cold...

  Her mother had contrived it entirely to make Aisly feel better about her flaming hair and the flecks of colour on her cheeks. She couldn’t help but smile as the song ran about in her head, though it made her sad as well as happy. She’d always imagined she’d sing it to her own child, but it seemed that would never happen now.

  Unless she allowed the foreigner to give her a child.

  Her hand trembled. Slick with the mist of the morning rain, the knife slipped from her grip, falling into the centre of the clump of rushes. Inexplicably her breath came in short pants, while her heart raced in her chest.

  Was it really possible to have everything she’d ever wanted so easily? Her home? A child? Her independence? She closed her eyes and imagined the child that she and the foreigner might create. A boy, big and handsome like his father, or a girl with Aisly’s own flaming hair, but with flecks of gold in her eyes like her father.

  Those visions had haunted her over the past several days since he’d made the offer, and they always led to thoughts of the actual act of making that child.

  I’ll give you my seed... Even days later those words caused her face to flame and heated her blood in a way she couldn’t have described had she tried. What would it feel like to have that magnificent body—

  ‘Have you finished, Aisly?’

  Aisly opened her eyes and scrambled to find the knife she had dropped, before looking up to see Wyn approaching. The girl’s eyes were vivid with the excitement of being outside the village for the last time that season and her face practically glowed with a youthful joy Aisly almost envied. She’d had that naiveté once and it hadn’t served her well.

  ‘Aye, almost.’ Aisly redoubled her efforts and sawed through the last few handfuls in the cluster. Depositing them on top of her almost overflowing basket, she stood and wiped away the bits of grass and sticks that clung to her skirt. Adjusting her heavy woollen shawl around her shoulders, she grabbed her basket’s handle and made her way down the slope with Wyn to the path by the stream.

  Warriors had been out all day making sure the area was clear of any rebel Danes so that the women could safely gather all that was needed for the feast. Tonight was a full moon and the start of winter. Over the next several days animals would be taken to other villages to be sold and some would be slaughtered so the meat could be preserved to eat through winter. Soon it would be too cold for them to stay outside and there was hardly enough room for them all inside. It was Cuthbert’s tradition to invite all the villagers to a feast on this night.

  Since coming to the village upon her marriage, Aisly had enjoyed the feast and she looked forward to it every year. There were usually plenty of stories, songs and ale passed around the large fire they’d build outside to cook the meat. There was already a tinge of the woodsmoke in the air, though it was only midday.

  Wyn looked particularly thoughtful as Aisly stepped up beside her as they made their way towards the village. It took only three steps before the girl’s impulsive mouth overtook the silence. ‘Tell me of the foreigner, Aisly. I still can’t get over how he saved you. He’s so courageous.’

  Aisly managed not to falter in her step, though the question took her by surprise. She was valiantly trying not to think of him. ‘Wh-what do you wish to know?’

  Wyn shrugged, her cheeks reddening as she brushed a tendril of midnight hair from her face. ‘Is he kind?’

  Not all men would treat you harshly. Some men would count themselves lucky to have you as a wife and do anything to keep you happy.

  ‘Aye, he’s kind.’ The kindest man she knew.

  ‘I’ve gone to the hall a few times to see my father and he was there. His words sound strange, but I find I want to listen to him, even when he says them wrong.’

  Aisly glanced over to see a dreamy expression on the girl’s face. She could sympathise, as she was certain that she’d worn that same smile in regards to him. He seemed to have that effect on the fairer sex.

  ‘And he’s so strong and tall. I’m sure I’ve never seen a man quite so large,’ Wyn continued.

  A shiver of pleasure ran through the girl’s words just as surely as one ran through Aisly’s body. Aye, he was big, so big that he should be frightening, but he’d been nothing but gentle with her. When he cupped her face, she could feel the strength he kept restrained in his hand, but she’d never had any fear that he’d turn that strength on her. Her palm tingled as she remembered the solid strength of his tree trunk of a thigh beneath it. Would he be large...everywhere?

  ‘Do you... Do you suppose his—’

  ‘Wyn!’ Aisly’s reproach caught the girl unaware. ‘That isn’t something we should discuss.’

  ‘Oh?’ Wyn frowned. ‘I only wondered if his memories had begun to return to him.’ The girl gave her a bewildered look and Aisly chastised herself for attributing her own inappropriate thoughts on to Wyn.

  ‘I’m sorry...I...’ There was no explanation except the truth of her thoughts and she couldn’t tell her those. Instead of explaining, she shook her head and said, ‘I don’t think so, but I haven’t spoken with him in a few days.’ He’d stayed away after his illicit offer. Aisly assumed he was either taking his meals in the hall or preparing them himself. She’d caught his gaze on her a time or two as she passed through the village, but he hadn’t approached her. She would’ve been hurt had she the slightest notion of what to say to him.

  Wyn smiled, her expression a bit smug. ‘He took the evening meal with us yesterday.’

  ‘Oh.’ Aisly kept her tone light and interested, while inside her heart fell a little. Wyn was a perfectly pleasant girl. It was natural that she’d draw his interest.

  ‘Aye. Father likes him, I can tell. They spoke the entire meal. He seems to know a lot about fighting and training warriors.’ She sighed. The sigh of a young woman in the first stages of love. ‘He’s so handsome. I think I may try to convince him to stay, even after winter.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s possible. He’s not from here, Wyn. He’ll need to go back to his people.’

  Wyn shrugged. ‘Perhaps, but we could be his people now. If he’s truly a mercenary as you claimed, then he probably has no home.’

  Aisly nodded, but inside she didn’t really believe it was true. Everything Wyn had said about him was accurate. He was virile, handsome, strong, brave. He belonged somewhere and it wasn’t here. Somewhere there were people waiting for him. That ache of quiet longing—the one that said he would never truly be hers no matter how hard she wanted him—was back to tug at her heart.

  As they’d walked, the women who had accompanied them to fill their baskets with rushes for the hall that night fell into step behind them. Yet two of the young women stood ahead of them on the rise where the path veered from the stream and into the woods. Aisly called to them, but they only giggled, covering their mouths to block the sound, and waved her over.

  Aisly walked over, the women following behind her. Curiously she skimmed the stream several yards below the embankment to see what held their attention. She had to wait only a moment before the foreigner broke the surface of the water, his strong arms taking him across the deep pool of water and to the opposite shore. When he put his feet down and rose, they were all treated to a view of his pale buttocks. It was an exquisite view. The water lapped around him, clinging to the well-formed curves. Aisly followed the developed muscle up to the two dimples pressed into the flesh just above each cheek. Then kept moving upward, caught by the lean line of pronounced muscle up his back. He pushed water back from his face and his hair, causing droplets to run down his wide shoulders and pool in those fascinating dimp
les.

  A flame of warmth flickered to life inside her and bloomed throughout her middle. It was strange how just looking at him could light her up inside. Stranger still how she could so vividly imagine how those muscles would feel beneath her hands. Smooth, but solid, like the finest velvet over stone. Her fingertips tingled as they remembered washing his back, reminding her how warm he’d been. She wanted to wrap herself in him.

  The women giggled, simultaneously breaking her spell and alerting him to their presence. He turned his head to see them there. His ears reddened, betraying his embarrassment, as his hands went down to cover his essentials. What a shame it was that he had emerged from the water turned away from them. He called out in mock outrage that sent the women into peals of laughter.

  ‘Go.’ Aisly shooed them away. A few seemed genuinely reluctant to leave, including Wyn, but they finally turned to continue their trip home with renewed enthusiasm. Aisly couldn’t resist a glance back at him, or more accurately the well-developed cheeks of his bottom. He still stood with his back to her, but he caught her admiring gaze over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed, but they weren’t warning her away. They were assessing, gauging her thoughts and pulling them out into the open, knowing she wanted him.

  Heat passed between them even across the distance. She whirled away before she could do something foolish, something like joining him in his bathing.

  * * *

  ‘How can that be true? You were there, Alstan, you saw Lord Oswine sign it.’ Her voice rose in frustration as she again questioned how her marriage contract could have gone missing.

  Alstan glanced around and gently grabbed her arm to lead her away from the crowd. Night had long since fallen and most had already stuffed their bellies with roasted meat and ale. The large fire still roared outside and people milled about it deep in conversation. Inside the hall, a storyteller’s dramatic voice could be heard recounting the exploits of a legendary warrior.