by Regine Abel
No doubt having sensed my rising panic, Eric’s eyes narrowed. His lips lost the soft incline of his seductive smile as his expression hardened.
“It’s too late to be having second thoughts, little girl. You had your chance to run. You’re mine now.”
“I–I’m not having second thoughts, your High… Eric.” I hated that I was acting unusually squeamish. “My nerves are finally catching up to me, that’s all. This is so… unexpected.”
His expression told me he didn’t believe me. However, he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he released me from the intimate embrace he had held me in from the moment we launched into our first dance. The loss of his warm, strong body wrapped around mine left me feeling bereft rather than relieved. My reactions made no sense, even to me. At first, I wanted to run, but once he let go, I wanted to be held.
Eric took a step back and offered me his arm. Accepting the gallant gesture, I let him escort me out of the ballroom. The guards closed the door behind us and we crossed the deserted hallway into the small chapel located a few doors down. It was a large rectangular room. Two rows of eight benches were separated by a crimson carpet leading up to a stone altar. Behind it, Father Osvald stood by a ten-foot high, intricately carved Celtic cross.
My father had looked forward to giving me away on my wedding day. But here I stood in an empty chapel, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaking through the large vaulted windows and the flickering of candelabras. The scent of burning candles mingled with the spicy aroma of the incense. Tormund stood by the altar, probably to bear witness. A long tri-color braided cord rested on the altar before Father Osvald.
Not a wedding… a hand fasting…
Of course, that made sense. Why go through the expenses and logistical nightmare of a full ceremony if the new wife didn’t last more than a handful of months? Not to mention the legal implications involved with rules of succession should he have married all his previous brides. The hand fasting lasted one year and one day. It was a legally binding union during which the bride and groom could test their compatibility before committing to a permanent marriage. In my case, it would be to test my ability to resist whatever temptation I would be subjected to.
Father Osvald seemed stricken when he recognized me at Eric’s side. There was no need to ask why. I did a lot of charity work whenever I could afford the time. Father Osvald and I had developed a respectful friendship over the years. Clearly, he believed I was doomed. He schooled his features before bowing to Eric – well, to us… I guess.
He took the braided cord on the altar before circling around to stand before Eric and me. Our eyes met and I gave him a nervous smile. He responded with a strained one.
“King Eric Thorsen, Lady Astrid Halvar, is it your wish that your hands be fasted this day?” Father Osvald said solemnly.
“It is,” Eric and I said in unison. His voice was firm, deep and gravelly. Mine was breathy but at least it didn’t shake.
“As your hands are fasted, remember well that these cords are not the real ties that bind,” Father Osvald said, holding the cords up.
Eric lifted his left hand and I placed my right one on top of his. Father Osvald slowly began to wrap the braided cords around our hands.
“May you be forever bound as one, man and woman, with these cords as the symbol of your unity. A white cord, as a sign of purity, so you may begin with a clean slate. A purple cord, so your spiritual strength never falters in the face of adversity. A blue cord so that you may forever remain faithful to each other and steadfast in upholding all promises exchanged.”
I was grateful for the strength of Eric’s hand beneath mine. Reality was finally sinking in, and slivers of fear crept down my spine.
The wrapping completed, Father Osvald held our hands between his. “May you be forever as one in passion, devotion and respect. King Eric, Lady Astrid, your hands are bound. You are now Husband and Wife. Your Highness, you may kiss your bride.”
Turning to face me, Eric folded his bound arm toward his shoulder, pulling me to him in the process. His free hand wrapped around my neck, his thumb gently lifting my face to his. My lips parted while his descended to brush against mine. His mouth was soft and warm… at first. Eric’s hand slipped to the back of my head, his fingers sneaking through my hair. The pressure of his lips intensified, then his tongue invaded my mouth. He tasted like spice and burnt caramel, as if he had recently enjoyed a glass of rum.
I wasn’t much of a drinker, unable to handle alcohol too well, but Eric’s kiss was going to my head faster than any liquor I’d ever had. My nipples hardened while a dull throbbing between my legs seemed to pulsate in sync with my hammering heart. I couldn’t contain the moan that escaped me. Eric’s hand fisted in my hair in response and the kiss intensified for a second before he tore himself away. I almost whimpered at the loss. The grey of his eyes was stormy with desire and shone with promises of the night to come. I shivered with anticipation.
Father Osvald removed the cords binding our hands then folded them neatly on the altar. He unrolled two parchments – the copies of the hand fasting contract. After we both signed and Tormund witnessed, Eric apposed his royal seal on the copy that would be sent to my father along with my bride token. For this alone, the challenge I would face over the next year was worth it. Whether I succeeded or failed no longer mattered, beyond the fact that I wasn’t ready to die. While I didn’t know the details of my bride token, it would be generous enough to ensure the financial welfare of my family.
After another respectful bow, Father Osvald left. Rather than following him to have the contract and bride token delivered to my father, Tormund approached us. He presented an ornate jeweled box to Eric who opened it. Resting on a black velvet cushion was a magnificent golden necklace with a gem-encrusted medallion in the shape of a nautilus. At the center of the spiral, a large pearl glowed with a slow steady pulse.
Eric took the necklace out of the box and fastened it around my neck. I was so fascinated by the pulsating gem that I barely noticed Tormund’s quiet departure. My breath caught in my throat when the pendant came to rest between my breasts. It was as if a connection had been established between the gem and something within me. I cast a worried look at Eric who stared at me intently.
“I–I felt something,” I said, my voice uncertain. “Is that normal? It’s not going to hurt me, is it?”
“Yes, it is normal. And no, it won’t hurt you. Quite the opposite.”
He caressed the medallion with the back of two fingers. The side of his hand brushed the inner curve of my breast. I barely repressed a shiver while goosebumps once again erupted all over my skin. A knowing smile blossomed on his lips and my cheeks heated.
“You must never remove it, under any circumstances. Not to bathe, not to sleep, never… not until the end of our hand fasting. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Eric.” His intensity unnerved me.
“Swear it, Astrid.”
His insistence gave me pause. “Is this the challenge? To never remove it for a year?”
“No. While it does play a part in it, wearing the medallion isn’t the challenge. That will begin tomorrow. I will tell you what you need to know about it then. For now, I want your word. Swear it, Astrid.”
I didn’t know where my sudden reluctance stemmed from. I knew, coming here, that I would be required to commit to something that would put my welfare at risk. I had accepted that eventuality even though I hadn’t expected to be chosen. Maybe it was the sense of finality that came with making such a pledge.
“I–I swear not to remove the necklace for any reason until the end of our hand fasting.”
Eric seemed… relieved. For a moment, I thought he was going to say something. Instead, he cupped my face in his hands and hungrily captured my mouth with his. My lips instinctively parted, and I clung to his shoulders like a drowning woman. Our tongues mingled for a while. His hands caressed my neck and slid down to my shoulders. Moaning softly, I pressed myself against
him. I eagerly awaited the moment his strong hands would wrap around me and pull me close like he had earlier on the dance floor. Instead, they pushed back on my shoulders, as he ended our kiss, putting distance between us. I looked up at him in confusion.
“Such enthusiasm,” Eric said with a seductive smile. “I want you, Astrid… but not in a chapel.”
His words were like freezing rain on the embers of my arousal. I looked around the room in a haze. How could I have forgotten so quickly where we were? My face crimson with embarrassment, I followed Eric as he led me out.
The castle was massive… and scary. Our footsteps echoed in the eerie silence that surrounded us. The further we went into the castle, the more dark shadows seemed to encroach on the receding number of areas lit by torches or chandeliers.
“Where is everyone?” I whispered. It was silly, but I felt as if speaking at normal level would alert nightmarish creatures lurking in the darkness, and they would descend upon us.
Frowning, Eric stared at me for a moment. “The servants and the guards don’t stay within the castle at night. They will return in the morning. Should you ever have need of them at night, there’s a bell you can ring from our bedchamber.”
That made me uneasy. “Why would everyone leave the castle?”
“Because it isn’t safe for them,” Eric said with a shrug.
That stopped me dead in my tracks and I pulled away the hand that had been resting on his forearm. Eric turned to face me, his expression unreadable.
“Why is it unsafe for them?” I was proud of the steadiness of my voice despite my increasing worry. “Are they afraid of you? Is that why you called yourself a monster?”
He sighed and took a step toward me. On instinct, I backed away. His face immediately hardened. My anxiety level skyrocketed at the sudden change.
“Don’t do that,” Eric said through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever run away from me, Astrid.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the way back toward the entrance before staring warily at him. Right now, there was nothing I wanted more than to do exactly that; run as fast as my legs allowed. He would easily catch me though, even had I not been wearing a long dress. I wrapped my arms around my middle to hide the trembling of my hands.
“You’re scaring me, Eric.”
He sighed. “There’s no reason for you to be afraid of me, Astrid. I’m the last person who wants to see you come to harm. You’re the key to breaking the curse.” He slowly closed the distance between us and I fought the urge to back up again. “The threat that keeps the servants and the guards away from the castle isn’t me.”
“Then who?” I glanced at the shadows, forcing myself to remain calm. “Is there someone else here with us? Something else? What do they fear?”
Eric cupped my face between his hands. “Temptation.”
CHAPTER 3
Eric
It took a while to alleviate some of Astrid’s fears. She wasn’t like my previous brides and I didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing. With the others, it hadn’t been until the second or third day, in some cases an entire week, before they realized that the castle slowly emptied with the setting of the sun. Such sensitivity and situational awareness could mean trouble in light of the year that lay ahead of her.
But right this instant, the curse was the last thing I wanted to dwell on. Astrid walked around the master bedroom, looking at everything but me, or the massive four poster bed next to the stone wall. I added another log to the fireplace, then turned back to her. I could see the apprehension on her face, mixed with a healthy dose of anticipation. In the next few minutes, it was passion and desire I wanted to put there.
I unfastened my belt before tossing it on the chair in the sitting area facing the fireplace. Astrid stared at me wide-eyed, and chewed her bottom lip with a row of pearly-white teeth. Her golden skin glowed under the flickering light of the fireplace. I pulled off my thigh-length tunic and threw it next to the belt. The rise and fall of her corseted breasts accelerated as I closed the distance between us. I stood in front of her, bare-chested. Astrid’s amber eyes roamed over me, darkening with arousal. Her pink tongue peeking through her plump lips to moisten them sent a jolt of desire straight to my cock.
“Do you want to touch me, Astrid?” I asked in a soft voice.
Her face flushed. She tucked her hair behind her ear then nodded.
“I’m your husband. My body is yours to do with as you please. Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me.”
She raised her hands hesitantly and let them hover near my chest, not making contact. I ached for her touch. Unable to wait any longer, I grabbed her hands and placed them on my chest. She made a startled sound but didn’t resist.
“See? It’s not that hard. Go on, my bride. Explore what’s yours.”
Her hands were soft and warm, wandering over my chest. It was the most exquisite torture. I could feel myself hardening, straining against my breeches. The desire to tear off her dress, toss her on the bed and bury myself to the hilt inside her was nearly overwhelming. But my bride was a virgin. I needed her to get comfortable with me before I began peeling off her clothes. She circled my nipples with her fingers. Her touch was clumsy yet incredibly erotic. A deep moan rumbled out of my chest.
“You like that?” she asked, clearly seeking reassurance.
“Yes. Your hands feel amazing on my skin. Kiss me.”
She giggled nervously but complied. Lifting her face to mine, she rose on the tips of her toes to reach my lips. Tilting my head down, I captured hers. Once she began to relax against me, I teased the seam of her mouth with my tongue until she granted me access. She tasted sweet like honeyed wine. I took my time, exploring, savoring. Though timid at first, her own tongue began to respond eagerly to mine.
Astrid’s hands snaked around my back in a slow caress. My fingers combed through her hair as I deepened the kiss. With the other hand, I untied the lace at the back of her dress, then slipped my hand between the parted sides. Her skin was warm and silky. She shuddered against me. I loved that in spite of her innocence, Astrid was embracing her sensuality and surrendering to my touch. There was no greater turn off than a cowering virgin. I had too little time with my brides to spend it coaxing them out of their virtuous fears. My forwardness in the ballroom wasn’t dictated by rudeness or lack of etiquette. It was a good test as to how squeamish the maiden was. I had been down that road too many times.
Breaking the kiss, I gently pulled on her hair to expose her neck. My lips brushed alongside her throat, then nipped at the pulse there. She moaned, gripping my hair with both hands. I inhaled her scent, a delectable aroma all her own mixed with lavender. Astrid squeaked in surprise when she felt her dress slide down to pool at her feet. She instinctively tried to cover her nudity, but I would have none of that. Grabbing her hands, I held them behind her back. The restraining hold put her breasts on display for me, and I greedily sucked a dusky nipple into my mouth.
“Eric…” she moaned, pushing her chest forward.
My triumphant smile at her heady response couldn’t be helped. I wanted her mad with desire for me, as I was for her.
I released her hands, and she buried them in my hair again, holding me to her breasts. I licked, sucked and nipped at each one in turn. Having untied the lace of her undergarments, I only released her long enough to get rid of the annoying obstruction. I recaptured Astrid’s lips before she could become self-conscious about her now complete state of undress. Lifting her in my arms without breaking the kiss, I sat her on the edge of the bed and pushed her down against the mattress.
Kissing my way back down, I stopped briefly at her ample but perky breasts before continuing my journey south. While my hands caressed her breast and gently pinched her hard nipples, my mouth peppered soft kisses on her stomach and licked at her navel. Astrid’s stomach quivered and she squirmed beneath me. The musky scent of her arousal made me ache to taste her. Unable to resist, I got on my knees in front of the bed and spread her
thighs before settling between them. She was beautiful. Her plump, pink cleft, surrounded by soft golden curls, already glistened for me.
“Eric! What are you doing?”
Astrid tried to sit up and close her legs, embarrassed to be so exposed. However, I was too comfortably lodged between her legs, preventing her from hiding her womanly treasure from me. Pressing a hand on her stomach, I pushed her back down while my mouth latched onto the greatest of feasts. Whatever argument she intended to voice died in the moan that tore out of her. Her back arched off the bed, her hand gripping my hair almost painfully. There was no room, no time for shyness between us. I would teach her to be wild, wanton and assertive in her desires.
My bride was dripping wet, writhing in pleasure under my tongue’s frenzied assault. The sounds she made with that breathy, sultry voice of hers had my cock jerking in response. The way she said my name, full of need and hunger, made me want to keep her riding the edge of bliss until she begged me for release. When I slipped a finger inside her, with my tongue teasing her clitoris, Astrid’s legs trembled and her stomach quivered. Her responsiveness to my touch was intoxicating. I felt powerful, masterful, playing her luscious body like a fine tuned instrument. I could go on for hours simply to watch her shuddering in ecstasy beneath my hands.
Astrid’s labored breath and tortured moans told me she was close to completion. That was fine. I intended to give her many orgasms tonight and I needed to prepare her to receive my considerable girth.
She seemed comfortable with one finger slipping in and out of her so I added a second. It was a tighter fit, but her pelvis gyrating in counterpoint to my ministrations told me she was enjoying it. I couldn’t wait for her to be squirming like this, but with my cock inside her. Sucking even harder on her tight little nub, I accelerated the movement of my fingers dipping into her, then curled them up, grazing the sensitive spot inside of her. She shouted my name and arched so violently with pleasure that she nearly launched herself off of the bed. That sent another blast of fiery lust down my spine. My balls felt heavy and my shaft throbbed with the need to claim her.