A ripple of thunder rolled across the sky. She shuddered and stared around as the forest grew so dark it seemed as though it could almost be night. A crack and flash lit the trees briefly, making them look like sinister beings, looming over her, ready to strike.
Do not be foolish, she scolded herself.
Taking up the chisel again, she tried to work it under the gap between the two parts of metal. Keita felt a slight give and hope flourished through her.
She would get free from this, she would.
She pushed again, working the tool back and forth, wriggling it until the collar seemed to loosen. This time she tried to pull at it with her hands but to no avail. Another rumble, another crack. More freezing rain, and foolish fears rattling her mind.
Working the tool harder this time, she moved it back and forth until her arm ached. Hope fled her. She let her shoulders drop and brought up her knees to her forehead. With her head pressed to her knees, she drew in a long sniff.
A flash and a rumble tore across the sky. If this was the work of the Norse gods, they were angry indeed. Perhaps they meant death for her.
Lifting her head and fighting a shudder, she handled the chisel once more. One final attempt. She lined the tool up and brought it down hard against the metal. A cry escaped her when the edge of the tool skimmed her skin about the collar and created a heated sting.
“Keita!”
She twisted her head. Like a phantom coming out of the mist, the outline of a Viking strode toward her.
Not just any Viking.
Thorarin.
With his hair plastered to his face and an intense look on his face, he kneeled beside her, tore the chisel from her hand and grasped her arms. “Death will not solve anything.”
She blinked at him numbly for many heartbeats. Death? Aye, death was close for certain. Much longer out here and it might have found her but it had never been her intention.
He pressed two rough fingers to her neck and she realised his fear. He thought she’d been trying to cut her own throat.
“Thorarin...” Her voice came out as thin as sheet ice.
She tried to gather the words to erase the horror that seemed to be etched into his bold features but they refused to come. Coldness enveloped her body and now he was here, she could no longer control the shuddering that wracked her.
He drew his fingers away and nodded to himself. Then he pressed his arms underneath and lifted her easily into his hold. Though he was as wet as she, warmth radiated through his garments and into her. She could not help but burrow herself against him. If she’d had the energy she would have wept—wept because of her failure or with gratitude for him having found her, she knew not.
Thorarin strode boldly down to the farmstead while slashes of white tore ragged strips across the sky. The rain continued and she had some vague worry that the ground would be slippery and they’d fall but his steps never faltered. Strong arms kept her secure and she allowed herself to relax against him.
When they reached the farm, he opened the door and eased her in before kicking it shut. The sound of thunder still penetrated the building but the instant warmth of the building struck her. He set her down by the fire and proceeded to drag over his pallet.
Once that was positioned, he picked her up once more as though she were a light sack of grain and placed her on the straw mattress. She wanted to offer up some words of reassurance or thanks but his efficient movements stopped her from finding the chance. Before she knew it, he’d wrapped a fur about her and was attempting to strip away her soaked gown.
Keita endeavoured to push his hands from her but her teeth chattered and her fingers shook. Even if she were at her best, she’d have no chance against him.
“I will not harm you,” he reminded her.
As if she needed reminding. “I know,” she rasped out.
Thorarin never intended her harm. Having seen the horror on his face, she suspected her thoughts that he didn’t care for her at all were wrong too. She wearily eyed his features while he loosened the laces on her gown and took in the long nose and lips that she had once kissed.
Warmth trickled through her, lighting a slow blaze that seemed to match the heat slowly seeping through to her skin from the fire. How handsome he was. How much she longed to kiss him again, to feel his arms about her. To feel more than fear.
He kept his gaze averted and the furs tightly about her but sometimes you did not need sight. His fingers skimmed parts of her body as he tugged the dress down and away. When he stood, there was no mistaking his arousal pressed against his garments. She gripped the fur tight about her shoulders and that heated need speared low in her body.
Aware of her nudity beneath the blanket, she kept herself curled up on one side while the heat from the fire cast its luxurious fingers all about her. The shivering had nearly ceased by the time Thorarin hung her gown and come to kneel at her side. He moved her head with a finger and inspected her neck. His green gaze searched hers, a great well of sadness echoing in them.
“Never do that again,” he told her.
“I never intended to hurt myself,” she finally managed to explain. “I just wanted this—” she tapped the collar with aggravation “—off.”
He shook his head slowly. “You were intending to escape?”
“Aye.”
“You would have died.”
She lifted a shoulder. Aye, she likely would have done. Of course, she’d known the chances were high. After her disastrous attempt she felt more a fool than ever but she’d had to try, had she not?
“Keita...” Thorarin gripped the furs around her shoulders and drew her to sitting. Weakness still pervaded her body, making her easily manoeuvred by him. She didn’t fight him. He kneeled in front of her and looked deep into her eyes. “Never do that again. I cannot lose you.”
Her throat tightened. The sincerity in his words, the terror behind them...he cared for her more than she realised.
Perhaps she cared for him more than either of them knew too. Right now, escape didn’t enter her thoughts, nor did Ragni and his behaviour or any of the other men. Only Thorarin existed. This brave, kind man with his rough manners and secretive ways. She longed to know all of his secrets and understand the reasons behind his brooding ways.
She longed to know more of him in every way. Now that her skin had warmed, it seemed to recall every spot that his fingers had brushed her. Her nipples ached and rubbed against the furs.
Keita extended a hand to him.
Chapter Fourteen
Thorarin had been waiting for that. Some sign, an invitation. He had it. The fear that had thrummed through his body when he’d spotted her leaving his farmstead and heading up the hill remained low in his gut. He wasn’t sure it would be erased until he’d assured himself she was safe and she’d never do anything like that again.
As he’d tracked her, images of her mauled by animals or slipping down the mountains to her doom assailed him. Seeing her with a blade to her throat had been worse than he could have imagined. He had driven her to that, he assumed. His determination to ignore her had been the cause of her loss of hope.
He cupped her face in both hands. Though chilled, her skin sent heat ebbing through him. He wasted no time in bringing his mouth down to hers while the memory of her body beneath his palms branded his mind. Underneath these furs, he kept reminding himself, she was naked. Every pure, pale part of her was within reach.
And he’d almost lost her.
She gasped at the contact of his mouth on hers. He took the chance to press his tongue in and find hers. She met his kisses greedily. They clashed and grappled at each other, all doubts and uncertainty gone. The world vanished, as it always did when he touched her, and only they existed.
He needed more.
When he pressed her down onto the pallet, keeping his mouth on hers and half-covering her with his body, the furs slipped a little. He somehow could not bring himself to release her mouth, even knowing he would be able to view
a breast or a creamy shoulder. But he felt her body against him with only his clothing separating them. Still, he needed more.
She tugged at the leather ties around the neck of his tunic. Keita scrabbled her hands down his back and tugged at his belt. He felt how weak her failed escape attempt had left her yet she kissed him boldly and without apology. Pure she might be but her inexperience seemed to mean nothing between them.
Thorarin eased away enough to tear off his belt and briefly broke their kiss to draw his tunic and undergarments over his head. The briefest glimpse of a sweet breast sent hot, pulsing desire to his cock. He’d already been as hard as stone but somehow he grew harder. When his chest met her flesh, he hissed and she released a sound of satisfaction.
This is wrong, a low voice said somewhere. Wrong, forbidden. Dangerous for them both.
She lifted her breasts against him and he felt the hard point of her nipples. The voice was silenced. How could this be wrong?
He hooked a hand under her arched back as she lifted herself again in offering. Breaking away from her mouth as she presented one of the few things that could make him want to stop kissing her, he moved past the collar that he had begun to resent more than the járl himself and dragged his lips over the rise of one breast. He pushed aside the rest of the fur, revealing her fully to him.
He’d known she’d be willowy and beautiful. He knew he’d want her with a desire so intense he seemed deafened to the world. Only the roar of blood and her breathy sighs could be heard. However, he hadn’t realised it would create this aching, tearing sensation all the way from his gut to his chest.
Savouring the softness of her delicate breast, he took her nipple into his mouth. He’d intended to be gentle but she rose again like a ship on a wave, imploring him to do more, to give her more. He sucked and toyed with her nipple, taking it between his teeth and drawing it to a tighter peak. Her short nails dug into his back in a silent plea.
More, her every movement said. More, I need you, those heavy breaths told him.
He could not deny her.
Thorarin followed the curve of her waist and traced the ridges of her ribs. She was too slender really, likely because she worked so hard and did not eat enough. He would have to ensure he fed her more often. But it did not stop her from being wholly desirable to him. He suspected she could be any shape or size and he’d still want her more than...
More than his revenge?
Neinn, that wasn’t possible. But at present his mouth was dry with want. The scent of her arousal surrounded him, teased him. He needed to taste her.
Taking a moment to kiss her belly, he used a hand to press apart her legs. She uttered his name, its shaky quality hinting at her nervousness. He would not give her long to be nervous, however. He parted her with his fingers and admired her. He recalled no man had ever touched her here before and yet she was giving him the greatest gift of all. He’d be a fool to turn her away.
He dipped to taste her—a gentle touch of his tongue that had her jolting in surprise. He groaned.
“Keita, you taste...” He couldn’t describe it but he needed more.
Thorarin continued to lap, suck and tease at her sex until her thighs trembled around him. Her fingers wound into his hair, tugging and creating a sharp sting that he savoured. As her thigh muscles tightened and he felt her responses, he took her nub into his mouth and sucked rhythmically. Her legs gripped his head until her orgasm hit. She jerked, relaxed and let her legs fall to the side while his name escaped her lips. He’d never heard such a sweet sound.
Thorarin rested his cheek against her thigh for a moment and breathed in her scent. A faint smile threaded its way across his mouth at the sound of her rapid breaths and the lazy way her fingers twined in his hair. His princess was sated.
He was not, however.
Turning his face, he pressed his mouth to the inside of her thigh and bit down. She squirmed beneath him and uttered his name in protest but he didn’t release her until he was sure. When he lifted his head, he spotted the red mark in the torchlight.
“You have marked me,” she protested.
“I have.” He pushed up and brought his mouth to her breast. He did the same to the underside of her breast. She didn’t fight him this time, just released a tiny oh sound. “No one will see these,” he told her when he lined himself back up with her. “They shall be our secret. Only we shall know that I have seen and touched every part of your body.”
Keita cupped his jaw and gazed deep into his eyes. “Not quite every part. You have not been inside me yet.”
By the gods, her words set him alight. He needed to be inside her more than anything. To take her and join with her in the most primitive way was something of which he’d been dreaming since his arrival. But he’d had little idea it would be like this.
Once he had joined with her, there would be no return. Not simply because she would no longer be innocent but because that connection between them would link them tighter than ever. He would be pouring his soul into hers, he just knew it.
“You realise what you offer,” he reminded her. “And that I cannot deny you.”
“I care not. I need you, Thorarin. Let me have some happiness.”
“I shall bring you all the happiness I can,” he vowed.
He stood and divested himself of the rest of his clothes, aware of her watching his every movement. Did she see a ferocious Viking when she saw his scars or did she see him as he was? Simply a man trying to make his way in life.
He had strongly suspected for a while she saw through him and at this moment, she seemed to reach deeper than ever before. The need to confess all flared brightly inside but now was not the time.
This time was for pleasure and pleasure alone. No thoughts of either of their pasts or their uncertain futures. One thing was certain, he needed her and she needed him. Together they would snatch one piece of beautiful pleasure.
He settled himself on his elbow next to her and hooked a leg over hers. He used it to keep her thighs parted while he explored her folds. She gasped when he touched her sensitive bud. He swirled a finger over it, again and again until more moisture pooled. Then he began to work a finger into her.
By the gods, she was tight. He did not know how he’d do this without hurting her. He glanced into her eyes and she reached up to smooth away the tension in his mouth. He pushed deeper to the knuckle and she lifted her hips in invitation. Deeper still.
Twin emotions rioted through him. He needed to be in her, feeling her tightness around her, knowing he had claimed what no one else had but he would rather die than hurt her.
Thorarin added a second finger and caught a slight wince. He burrowed his face by her ear and kissed her there. He longed to curse the metal around her neck that prevented him from tasting the sweet arch of flesh there. One day, he would, he vowed. He’d ensure her freedom and taste it before she returned. They could have one last moment together as a free man and woman.
She squirmed when he licked and bit her ear and he felt goosebumps rise on the arm against his bare chest. Here was where he would kiss her as he pushed in. He’d distract her by sending shivers through her body with his kisses. He worked those two fingers in and out of her as much as her tightness would allow and she rocked against his palm.
Fiery desire warmed every inch of him. He had his princess writhing and ready for him. She was wet and willing. He could not ready her any more.
When he settled between her legs, staring into those grey eyes that seemed to reach deep inside and fist around his heart, he paused to rest his forehead against hers. “I wish not to hurt you but you are small, and I am...”
Keita made him draw in a harsh breath when she slipped an arm between them and curled a hand around his arousal. “Large. I know.”
For the first time since he’d met Keita, he no longer saw that undertone of fear in her gaze. Here was his courageous Pictish princess—the one who had somehow persuaded a powerful man to leave her untouched, the one who was
determined above all things to seek out her freedom, no matter what happened to her.
“Keita,” he murmured, his voice tight with emotion, “I do not deserve you. You are too great a gift for a man like me.”
“You do,” she assured. “You deserve so much, Thorarin. My body is but a small gift.”
“Neinn.” He shook his head vigorously. “Your body is the greatest gift of all. You are the greatest gift of all. I have spent long resenting my attraction to you but I can deny it no longer. I need you more than air, princess.”
A shimmer of tears sprung up in her eyes. “I feel the same.”
Before anymore foolish words escaped his lips, he lined himself up with her sex. Wet heat greeted him and he eased forward. Her fingers dug into his rear in invitation. Deeper, her movements said. More, her inhale of breath told him.
Jaw clenched, he inched in, watching her for signs of pain. The little crease between her brow told him when she grew uncomfortable. He brought his mouth back to her ear and tugged her lobe between his teeth. A tiny tremor wracked her, allowing him to sink deeper still. Her tight warmth near blinded him. His arms shook with restraint. Thorarin murmured words of encouragement in her ear and finally pushed all the way in. A tiny cry of pain threatened to rip his heart in two.
He pushed back up onto his palms and gazed down at her. Keita released her bottom lip from her teeth and stared up at him. He noted her discomfort but also her expression of awe.
“I know,” he told her.
He felt the same. That odd sense of connection that had always run between them seemed to have multiplied. Never had anything in his life been so right. It was no wonder he’d been unable to fight this. He—a warrior with the determination and patience to plot revenge for ten years—was powerless against this, against her.
He waited several heartbeats before moving again. She winced and he kissed her. He kept kissing her until moving inside her grew easier and the tension from her body released. Once tiny sounds of appreciation began to emanate from her, he moved faster. He still held back, she was an innocent after all. Soon enough, he promised himself, he would take her with no restraint but this night called for soft touches and movements—something he had not been sure he was capable of.
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