by Jianne Carlo
By Odin, she spread her legs and canted her hips. The lips of her puss caught the dawn’s early light. Plump, dewed rose petals framed her center. His rod wept copious droplets. He fell to the floor, his knees hitting the stone hard, and the sharp pain allowed him to regain a finger of control.
He looped her knees over his shoulders and feasted on her beauteous sex. Never had he seen such a delight. And he had seen many. ’Twas a pleasure he relished, tasting a woman, coating his face with her honey, but not a single female had ever affected him so. The simple image, the faint remembrance of her flavor on his tongue, had him at the ready.
Jarvik dipped his head, nuzzled her slick lips, and inhaled the spicy sweetness of her desire. He loved her with long, slow licks, let his lips suckle the bud hidden by the scarlet hood, plunged his tongue into her center. Her walls sucked at him, and his sac fisted hot and heavy.
The harem women had taught him of a tickling move that drove them over the edge. But he had learned that a pinch on the nub combined with his fluttering tongue could bring a woman to climax over and over and over, until she nigh swooned. Elaina screamed when the peak took her. Jarvik smiled against her slick flesh when she moaned his name.
He loved her again, gently this time, letting his hands find the crevices that made her shudder and whimper. Testing how many fingers her puss craved, three with a thumb grazing her nub, and he had to suckle that little bud when she fisted around his fingers.
Jarvik set her legs back on the mattress and untied her hands. He lay next to her and gathered her close. Her nipples brushed his chest, and her audible pants slowed to deep, even breathing.
She rested her chin on him and fingered the stubble on his jaw. “’Tis my turn now.”
Her warm hands closed around his erection. She rolled over on her side and sat resting her backside on her heels. She smiled again, that siren smile of hers, and his eager cock twitched.
“’Tis much different than I had imagined.” She caressed his belly. Her fingers lingered on the hard planes of his groin and tangled in the hair nestling his rod.
His balls contracted, and Jarvik choked back a groan.
“So much heat.” She kissed the tip of his cock. “How can a mere stroking inflame me so? And the scent of you makes my puss clench. That so much pleasure can be found by touching another, tasting another.”
When she bent and sipped the crown, Jarvik hissed and grabbed the bed frame. She licked him daintily, like a kitten, cocking her head this way and that, her little pink tongue flicking the rim of his rod.
“You taste salty and creamy.”
Hot breath whizzed over the wet trail she left on the head. Lightning bolts fired his groin and drained all the blood in his body to his aching, burning balls. Her mouth covered his cock. Jarvik threw back his head and roared as ecstasy ripped him apart. His seed erupted in pulsing jets. He couldn’t breathe. Splinters dug into his fingers, and the sharp stings added to his pleasure. Shudder after shudder from heels to scalp had him thrashing on the straw.
Thoughts left him and his bones melted. He could no longer support his weight on his elbows, but the need to hold her, pet her, drove a last burst of energy. Jarvik hauled her up his body and hugged her tightly.
“’Tis amazing.”
Her lips moved on his skin, each slight touch sparking tinders in unconnected places, and his half-hard cock jerked.
“I had not thought to enjoy it so much. Nor that it would make me feel empty and need you again. Is it always thus?”
Jarvik managed to lift his eyelids. The slide of her tresses on his chest proved as enticing as he had imagined, and desire flooded his groin.
Had he ever seen a more beautiful woman? Even the arch of her brows above those slanted emerald eyes beguiled him. “’Tis never thus. Not until you.”
“You have had many women.” Her voice wavered.
“I have wanted only you.” He cradled her face. “From that first kiss in the stables the day I left your father’s holding.”
“Deny you the women?” Her brows pinched.
“Nay. I am but a man, Elaina. A lusty man.” He met her level stare. “You are my wife. I will seek no other women from this day onwards. My cock will know one puss. Yours.”
“What of the women who seek you?” Jealousy blazed from her, unexpected and very much appreciated.
His spent rod filled again. “I want no others. There is only you.”
And he set about proving it to her.
’Twas full morn before they left the turret.
“I must go to the girls.” Elaina halted when they reached the stairs.
“They are not here, wife. Magnus and I agreed that the girls will stay with Deidra this day. They will be presented to King Cnut and King Máel Coluim at the high table this eve.”
She wrung her hands and sliced a longing glance at the hallway.
Jarvik tugged her to him, caressed her neck, and nudged her chin so she had to focus on him. “All well be well. Many warriors guard them.”
“They will miss me.”
He wanted to chase the shadows from her eyes and the worry lines from her twisted lips. “There are troubadours in the village. The girls will enjoy the summer merry making. I protect what is mine to the death, Elaina. And you and the girls are mine. Give this day over to us.”
For long moments she searched his face and eyes, and then a tiny smile blossomed. “Us?”
“Aye. Us. On the morrow, we will take them to Skjebne. This day, today, is for us.” He slid his fingers across her collarbone and waited.
“Then I yield to your wisdom, husband.” She tiptoed and kissed his jaw. “It seems that I have married a man who plans for all.”
Choking back a victory roar, Jarvik grinned and urged her down the stairs. By the time they returned to the keep, he would have her as trained to his hand as a falcon to its master.
Garek awaited them in the empty hall. “My lord, all is ready. The horses are saddled.”
“Good morn. Elaina, this is my captain, Garek. He and I have served King Cnut together for many winters.” Jarvik clapped his captain’s shoulder.
“My lady.” Garek bowed.
“I am pleased to meet you, Garek.” When Elaina lifted her hand for Garek’s kiss, Jarvik growled and snagged her wrist.
Damn if the woman did not slash him a sideways knowing smile. “Can we beg oatcakes from cook to speed our departure?” he asked.
Garek grinned. “Already done, my lord.”
Jarvik recognized Garek’s smirk. Now both he and Elaina knew of his jealousy. He snapped, “Wipe that grin off your face. The last time you called me lord was when King Cnut gave me my spurs.”
“He is never cheery in the morn.” Garek addressed Elaina and offered her his arm. “May I escort you to your mount?”
“Touch her and you will feel the bite of my sword.” Jarvik snaked his hand around Elaina’s waist and entwined her fingers with his. “Mayhap you should ride with me, sweetling. How long has it been since you last rode a horse?”
“Some time, my lord.”
Shortening his stride to accommodate Elaina, he led her through the hall to where three horses stood at ready. He lowered his voice. “I would not want you sore from the saddle this eve.”
“Can your mount carry the two of us?”
“Aye. This is Háski.” Jarvik waved at the massive stallion. The animal snorted and pawed the baked dirt.
“Háski?”
“’Tis the Norse word for danger.” He eyed Elaina and the steed. “I will mount first and then help you into the saddle.”
“He is a beauty.” She reached out to stroke the horse’s neck.
“Nay.” Jarvik caught her hand. “He bites. ’Tis why I named him Háski. He is dangerous to mount and ride.”
The steed whinnied and tossed his head high.
“Take a step back.” Jarvik put himself between the destrier and Elaina, leapt into the saddle, and settled into the stirrups. “Step onto my boo
t, and take my hand.”
Elaina obeyed him and soon he had her settled sideways on his lap. “I find I like having you in my arms, wife. I have a mind to stop for a swim in a warm cove I discovered on the edge of my lands. I would have you ride me at the edge of the surf.”
By Odin, her green eyes narrowed and she ducked her head to focus on the spot where her rump rested on his arousal. That sultry smile he’d come to relish lifted her lips, and his cock hardened into steel.
“Garek.” Jarvik could not drag his attention from Elaina. “Stay well behind us on the journey. And take an inland route when we head to the coast.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Garek did not even try to disguise his laughter.
* * *
“I would not call this a modest keep.” Elaina surveyed the enormous castle perched on the edge of sheer black cliffs. “I count six turrets. How many mouths do we feed?”
“Many. But the farms are vast, and the villages—there are three—are prosperous. You and the girls will want for naught.” He tightened the reins. Háski halted and flicked his tail. The stallion threw his head back in the direction of Jarvik’s left boot and snapped his large teeth together. Only Jarvik’s quick reaction saved his toes.
Elaina couldn’t repress a giggle. “I cannot understand why you tolerate such a grumpy steed. He has bit you twice this morn, kicked you when we stopped at the cove, and nigh threw you off when he reared and bucked on the beach.”
“Aye.” Jarvik dismounted and held up his arms for her. His mouth pursed and he scowled at the destrier’s large head. “He lives to torment me. He is all sweetness and light with you. Not only will he not take food from my hand, but I cannot leave a weapon near his hooves. I lost two swords worth much coin to his trampling. But in battle, there is no destrier who can best him. ”
He appeared so peeved and soured that Elaina chortled. “’Twould seem he prefers the gentler handling of a woman’s touch.”
She set her hands on Jarvik’s neck and jumped down.
How had he come to be a haven in only one night and half a day? He had taken her twice in the cove, once submerged in the warm seas with the rolling waves sweeping over their shoulders. And then again at the surf’s edge with the sun blazing warmth over their naked bodies.
“Thank you, Jarvik. For this day. For the beach.” She cupped his jaw, traced the seam of his mouth, and gave him a soft, open-mouthed kiss.
Not once this day had she checked to see if any followed. Not once had she jumped at a sudden noise, and wonder of wonders, she had fallen asleep in his arms. A deep, dreamless sleep that had clearly renewed her spirits.
“’Tis I who should be thanking you, sweetling.” He nuzzled her cheek. “I fear we cannot tarry here. For I took too much time loving you at the cove. Let us meet the steward, tour the castle, then hasten back. If all goes well, we will return on the morrow with the girls.”
Elaina’s spirits soared with each passing moment. She loved Skjebne. Constant sea breezes crisscrossed the property, their fresh briny aroma permeating each chamber. The steward and cook were eager to serve their new lord and lady. All the servants appeared cheerful, and the keep bustled with activity. Jarvik asked her opinion on everything: the quality and quantity of the spice jars, the wool, the looms, even the tapestries on the walls.
He charmed everyone, from stable hands to kitchen spit boys, to the chamber maids. And he touched her all the time. Draped his arm over her shoulder, set his palm to the small of her back to urge her on, and, if they were alone, reminded her to steal kisses from him. She grew bolder with each kiss, melted into his arms when he suckled her tongue, and her puss grew moist when he whispered of what he intended for the coming night.
’Twas the sweetest torture she had ever endured. And never had she felt more treasured, more secure, more ready to live life. By the end of the day, as they journeyed across the rolling hills, not only had she grown accustomed to his touch, she craved it, and needed to caress him too.
As the keep neared, Elaina’s tension returned.
“What worries you, wife?” Jarvik drew back on the reins. Háski slowed from a canter to a walk as they crossed the moat leading to Laufsblað Fjëllóttr’s bailey.
She straightened and smoothed her skirts, feeling naked without her padding and wimple. “I fear King Máel Coluim’s reaction to my appearance.”
“Cease frowning. How oft must I say that all will be well?” Jarvik nudged her shoulder. “’Tis time you meet my brothers and their wives. The king will have to wait.”
She blinked, turned in the direction he looked and her jaw dropped, for a crowd awaited them at the top of the castle’s stairs. “I can see why all call him The Bear of The North. That is him, is it not? The one in the middle?”
“Aye. That one is Torsten, the Bear. He is my oldest brother.”
“Uncle Jarvik!” A screech came from an elfin-faced girl with loose golden tresses. Her hair whipped back in the breeze as she raced to them.
“Nay, Gæierla. Halt.” Jarvik scrambled off the horse, and Háski promptly bit him in the ass. He kept one hand on Elaina’s thigh and reached low to scoop the child into his embrace.
“Are you my new aunt?” The girl wrapped long, skinny legs around Jarvik’s waist and stared at Elaina. “What am I to do now? All my Thors have married. You must find me another, uncle. For I am over ten summers and still have no betrothed.”
Elaina’s head spun. Thors? Betrothed?
Another woman approached. “You must be Elaina. Help her dismount, Jarvik. Don’t stand there with your mouth hanging open. We have much to do. I am Catriona, Ruard the Dragon Slayer’s wife. The brat peppering Jarvik with questions and kisses is my sister, Gæierla.”
Elaina had never seen hair the color of flames and such beauty in one woman. Glad she no longer wore her padding and limestone lard, Elaina jumped down. “Catriona, I am most pleased to meet you.”
“I am not a brat.” Gæierla wriggled out of Jarvik’s hold. “I am to be presented to two kings this eve. I have a new cyrtel. Think you one of the kings will find me a husband?”
“Gæierla, you must stop this obsession with marriage. ’Tis not all it appears, dearling.” A tall woman with unbound black tresses reaching well below her rump strolled to them carrying a babe on her hip. Close on her heels, a warrior dressed in a hauberk hurried to keep up with her. “I am Bettina, married to Njal the Peacemaker, the middle brother. And this is our son, Saxski.”
“And how is marriage not all it appears to be, wife? I am Njal.” The warrior curled an arm around Bettina’s waist, tweaked the babe’s nose, and tilted his head to inspect Elaina. “The hall is rife with rumor of you, Lady Elaina. All are curious to see the woman who beguiled Jarvik, The Seducer.”
Elaina craned her neck to see Njal fully and curtsied. “My lord.”
“Nay. We are brother and sister now. I am Njal to you, Elaina.” He captured her hand and kissed the back.
“Cease.” Jarvik removed her wrist from Njal’s grasp. “Where is Magnus?”
“Trying to persuade Deidra to put the cats in their stable.” Elaina spun to the side to face yet another female, this one delicate, with porcelain skin, huge wide-set green eyes, and the softest, sweetest voice she had ever heard. “I am Ainslin, married to Torsten, the Bear of the North. This is Inga. Mind your manners, daughter.”
The toddler at Ainslin’s side removed a thumb from her mouth, dipped her knees, and mumbled, “Have you an apple?”
“Brother.” Torsten the Bear approached them. “I see Háski still takes chunks of your skin regularly.”
Elaina’s heart leapt to her throat. Never had she seen a man who radiated such danger and power. She took a step back into Jarvik’s solid form. He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. “Easy, wife. Aye, the destrier you gifted me with when I earned my spurs still gnaws me every chance he gets. How you trained him to do so, I still cannot fathom.”
Torsten bent to pick up Inga. “Here is your apple, de
arling. No more stealing from the kitchens. Ainslin, why are you here? Did we not agree that you are not to take the cool evening air?”
Ainslin rolled her eyes. “Nay. We did not agree. You commanded.”
“’Twas a suggestion, elska. I am but concerned for you and the babe.”
“Why are you not supervising Rob and Brom with their training?” Hands jammed on hips, chin jutted, Ainslin tapped a foot. That this slip of a woman defied the dangerous warrior famed in so many lands had Elaina’s thoughts churning.
“I left our sons in Magnus’ capable hands when I found out that the wife I thought was resting had decided to help the alewife with sacks of hops. Ainslin, be reasonable. You are with child. You are not to lift a spool of wool far less sacks of hops.”
“Fie! Save us from all dense warrior husbands. And not a word, Njal. Can you believe it? He would have me not ride. I swear the next time I am with child, you will know nothing of it until the birthing is done.” Bettina narrowed her eyes.
Njal relieved Bettina of their son, Saxski. “You know well what will happen if I chance you on a stallion. I would tie Ainslin to the bed frame were I you, Torsten. Lifting sacks of hops.” He snorted. “Shall we escort our wives and children to their chambers?”
“Aye. For I fear they are all headstrong and unreasonable.” Torsten glared at his wife. “Will you walk or shall I carry you?”
’Twould not have surprised Elaina to see flames spewing from Ainslin’s nostrils as she met her husband’s stare. Not a word sounded in the bailey. Elaina held her breath cert that the Bear would explode.
But Torsten blew out a heavy sigh instead. “Go to Mama, Inga.”
Ainslin blinked but took Inga from Torsten. Then he scooped both Inga and Ainslin into his arms.
“Do not even think on it. I will walk, Njal.” Bettina fair huffed the statement.
“Sister.” Gæierla tugged Catriona’s sleeve. “Can I go see the cats? Why does Uncle Njal want Uncle Torsten to tie Aunt Ainslin to the bed frame?”