Everyone seemed to agree that it was a good plan to not waste what had already been made and so people mingled as food was served. “That was a really good idea,” Aila said. Knowing compliments didn’t fall easily from her tongue, Dagmar grinned.
“I do have them from time to time, you know.”
“I do know. Once in a while.”
“You never let up, do you?”
“Neither of us do. It’s part of the reason we’re at each other all the time.”
Grabbing her hand, Dagmar pulled Aila outside, where they could talk in peace. “I have it on good authority that the village thinks we should join together and rule Hail as one unit.”
“Good authority, huh?” Aila laughed. “Please, tell me whose authority.”
“Look, Aila,” Dagmar sighed. “We both know that if we don’t do something, we’re going to end up splitting into two villages. We also know that surviving that way is nearly impossible.”
“So, let me rule our people,” Aila concluded, stubbornly. Her face was so set, he was half afraid she’d turned herself into stone.
“Not a chance,” Dagmar said with a shake of his head. “Not alone.”
“Why not?” Aila demanded. “I’m capable.”
“Oh honey, you’re more than capable. The people who want me to rule, however, will never accept the leadership of a woman.”
“Oh, really?”
“Don’t give me that look, Aila. You know damn well you can’t do this by yourself.”
“But you can?”
“Whether or not I can has nothing to do with you. It’s just a matter of who’s best suited to do this. We both know that it’s me.”
“Over my dead body,” Aila said, storming off. Dagmar went after her, easily pulling her into his tent.
“Look. It doesn’t have to be this power struggle between us. What happened to the Aila who worked with me? The girl who fed me information and helped me out?”
“She grew up,” Aila said, her green eyes shining. “To realize that her best friend was a man she no longer trusted.”
“Aila—” Dagmar started.
“Spare me, Dagmar.”
“Now wait just a cursed minute,” Dagmar said, his temper shoving him forward. His hand gripped her arm, pulling her back against him. Her bright green eyes fired, making him grin before he did the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Dagmar Stalson, son of the elder Strad Stalson, claimed Aila’s mouth for his own. Heat permeated everywhere as his lips roamed over hers. He had a moment to think that she was stiff as a board before her powers sent a ripple of electrical current through him, sufficiently stealing his breath.
“Bloody awful!” Dagmar moaned, doubling over in pain. “It was just a kiss, Aila. It’s not like you haven’t ever been kissed before.”
Before he could get his bearings, Aila turned and walked regally out of his tent.
***
Aila sought the solace and isolation of her own quarters, her mind and heart much too muddled for company. Only when she was inside with the flap closed, did she allow herself to touch her lips. They still tingled from the pressure of Dagmar’s lips. Oh, she’d been kissed alright, of that Dagmar was right. But he couldn’t know that she’d been waiting nearly her entire life to be kissed like that, to be kissed by him.
The fact that it’d taken him so long to get around to it made her want to grin. Leave it to Dagmar to kiss her at a moment when she wasn’t prepared to blow it off as if it didn’t mean anything. The last thing she’d do was let him see her weak when it came to her own needs. She wouldn’t give him anything to hold over her head. Being a woman was bad enough. She wouldn’t be able to go on if he humiliated her as well.
Aila fell asleep easily that night. The excitement over the large red deer hunt and the success that Dagmar and his party had made was overwhelming in most respects. Aila was starting to blur the lines between what her head and heart wanted. Logically she knew she should rule the Pict people, but the only man who stood in her way was also the only one her heart had ever really loved.
She dreamed that night and in the dream, Dagmar wasn’t in her way, but rather stood at her side. His strong, wiry body was painted for war. His long, lean muscles rippled with anticipation. “When?” she asked, her hand touching his arm.
“Tomorrow at the latest,” he said. Turning to her, his blue eyes held an emotion she’d never dared to hope to see. “Aila, I’ve spent my adult life hoping to rule our people, fighting with you over ruling them and hoping that somehow you’d come to feel about me the way I feel about you.”
“You can’t stand me,” Aila chuckled.
“No. I just made you think I couldn’t stand you. How could I rule our people if I couldn’t even shrug off what we had?”
“So you pretended to all but hate me just to save face? What sort of coward are you?”
“The worst kind. Instead of just coming out and telling you how I felt, I hid behind fake dislike.”
“So now what do we do?” Aila asked, noting the sunset and wondering how long it’d be before they would fight for their land.
“We go to war,” Dagmar said. “Then I guess we’ll figure everything else out.”
Waking from her dream, Aila watched the coming sunrise spread its pretty pinks and purples across the sky. She tossed back her bearskin blankets and hurriedly dressed in her tunic and leggings to ward off the bitter cold. Winter had plunged their village into a bone-chilling cold that easily zapped a person’s energy even when they were dressed warm. Hurrying toward the food tent, Aila found Dragna working on the morning’s meal. “Have you seen Dagmar?” Aila asked.
“He was up early this morning,” Dragna smiled. “Said something about walking the long trail to see how everything was fairing. Much like you do yourself.”
“Thanks.” Aila smiled. “If he returns, will you tell him I’m looking for him?”
“Sure, honey,” Dragna said, adding her own smile.
***
Dagmar found Aila in the clearing he’d been in with Brenda when she’d interrupted them. “Hey,” he said, coming over to her.
“Hi,” Aila said. Her nerves were apparent from the start, an unusual thing for Dagmar to witness.
“Is everything okay?”
“I think so,” she returned. “I had a dream and wanted to know what you thought about it.”
“Okay,” Dagmar said, sitting down by her.
“In the dream you were painted, as we do when war is coming. When I asked you how long we had you couldn’t even give us an entire day.”
“That would make sense, I guess.”
“That’s not the only thing. You and I, we’ve been standing in each other’s way for as long as we’ve needed a ruler. You feel that you have a right to the throne and I know I do, considering my family founded the Pict land when we arrived.
“What I noticed in the dream was that, we worked together. No more fighting each other, no more useless bickering.”
“That sounds great,” Dagmar smiled. He reached out and took Aila’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“There’s more,” Aila sighed. “In the dream I acused you of hating me and you said that you only wanted me to think that because it would have ruined your reputation if you’d conceded the throne to me.”
“Sounds like some idiotic thing I’d say,” Dagmar chuckled. “Aila, I don’t claim to know all the meanings in your dream, but I do want to settle this between us. There’s no reason we can’t be friends, maybe even something more.”
“You mean you don’t hate me?”
“Why would I hate you? Yes, I get extremely irritated with you and your insistence on ruling our people, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. On the contrary I’ve always had a very special place in my heart for you.”
“Seriously?” Aila asked, her green eyes disbelieving.
“Yes,” Dagmar chuckled. “Seriously.” Seeing that he’d have to show her, Dagmar pulled her closer, laughing when she t
ried to get away. “Not this time, Aila.”
“Dagmar, I—“
Dagmar cut her off, pressing his lips to hers. Gentleness gave way to a need he hadn’t felt in a long time. Sliding a hand against her cheek, Dagmar cradled her head. She trembled beneath his, unleashing a torrent of feeling he hadn’t expected. “Aila.”
“Dagmar, I’m not… I can’t do this.”
“Is there something wrong with me in your eyes?”
“No,” she said, those green eyes unreadable. “I just… I don’t think you feel for me what I’d wish from someone who wanted me.”
“You mean you want me to love you?”
“Well that’d be an ideal situation, yes, but I’d at least like the man who initiates me to like me on some mutually understood level.”
“Initiates…you mean you’ve never—?,” Dagmar was dumfounded. How had Aila, who was easily the most beautiful woman in their village, gone without sex? “Aila, why did you let me berate you about sex all this time if you’ve never experienced it?”
“And what would that have done? It would only have provided fuel for you to continue teasing me.”
Dagmar had never felt lower than he did in that moment. Here was a stunningly gorgeous woman who wanted nothing more than for them to get along. He’d done nothing but everything in his power to make her hate him.
“Aila, I have never been good at serious conversation. Even when we were children, whenever anything got serious I just stopped talking. Even you knew when I was approachable and when I wasn’t. I’m afraid that didn’t change much as I grew up.”
“No,” she smiled. “It hasn’t.”
“I may not have consciously wanted you to hate me, but I did everything in my power to ensure you did. You were right. Are right. I realize now that instead of showing thankfulness for your friendship, I took it for granted. I assumed you’d always be there. I find myself humbled that you’d stick by me despite the poor way I treated you.”
“I forgive you, Dagmar. I can’t say that we won’t argue in the future, but I’d sure appreciate being able to work with you instead of trying to figure out how to defend against you.”
“Good,” Dagmar smiled.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Aila squealed. Dagmar caught her easily by the waist, swinging her around as she tried to get past him.
“You can never best me physically, Aila,” he laughed. Nuzzling her neck, Dagmar reached up to cup her breasts. He whispered against her ear, “I find myself incredibly aroused by you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to keep my hands off of you?”
“Dagmar,” Aila breathed. “I don’t know how…”
Silencing her with his mouth, Dagmar smiled. “All you have to do is trust that I won’t hurt you. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she breathed.
Chapter Three: Lessons
Aila looked into blue eyes she’d known nearly forever, eyes she been in love with just as long. But Dagmar had asked a good question. Could she trust him not to hurt her? Physically it was a no-brainer. Dagmar could scrap with the best of Pictland, but he’d never raise a hand to a woman. Emotionally, though, that was the real kicker. She had no doubt that, given the right circumstances, he’d not only hurt her emotionally, he’d likely crush her.
“I want to know what it is you’re offering Dagmar.” Aila smiled, resting her hand against his newly clean-shaven cheek. “I trust you to show me what I’m missing. I don’t know yet if I can trust you not to hurt me. I know you’d never do it intentionally, but I can’t say I believe you’d never do it at all.”
“Then let’s take tonight, just right now,” Dagmar offered. Aila grinned at his beautiful blue eyes that implored her to take this leap of faith. Rising on her toes she brought her mouth within a whisper of his and said, “Okay.”
If anyone had asked her what happened next, Aila would have said that fire, actual burn-your-flesh fire, came into Dagmar’s eyes and filled them with something she’d never seen in anyone else who had looked at her. Desire was something Aila had felt, certainly, but to see it written on Dagmar’s face made her shiver with anticipation. She could already feel need ripple over her skin like a blanket of electrical current. She’d have to calm down if she didn’t want to shock him and ruin the moment.
“Come here, Aila,” he said, taking her hand. Aila walked with him down the short trail and stepped out into the sunlight. He led her on, walking clear across the village to his tent.
“Dagmar,” Aila whispered.
“What?” he asked, a grin on his face. “Surely you’re not worried about what people will think?”
“I just… Yes.”
“Then come here,” he smiled. Before she could think of an argument, Dagmar kissed her and instantly her ability to think at all vanished. This is what she’d been missing, she was absolutely sure of it, this heat that filled her up so that nothing inside was cold, nor was she afraid it would be. His lips roamed over her jaw, small bites raising goosebumps on her skin, tightening her nipples so that her body ached with a need she’d ignored for the majority of her life.
Aila felt Dagmar’s hands slip under her tunic to find the warm flesh beneath it. Sighing, she lifted her arms and watched her beautiful white tunic land on a bearskin rug. “You’re thinking again,” he teased. “I’m afraid that will ruin the experience.”
“Is that so?” Aila grinned.
“Hm,” he mumbled. “It taints everything and makes if virtually impossible for me to do my job.”
“So now I’m a project?”
“No, but I’d really, really like to please you, and you thinking sort of makes that impossible.”
“Why?” Aila asked, truly curious.
“Because sex is about feelings, Aila. Yes, we should be smart about who we sleep with, but that doesn’t mean we have to analyze it from every possible angle. Sometimes with love, it’s good just to feel for a while. To let everything else fall away.”
“Then show me,” Aila said, stripping off the leggings that covered the lower half of her body. Standing naked in front of him, she fought not to shiver against the cold. She could have used her powers to make the air warm, comforting, but doing so would have changed the feeling of the moment. She found herself eager for the hard punch of reality. Then Dagmar was there, wrapping a huge blanket over her shoulders. His mouth pressed a short, breath-stealing kiss to hers, but even as she opened up to invite him deeper, his lips were trailing down her flesh. When they took her taut nipple between them she cried out. When his tongue slid warm and wet over her she whimpered with a need she was just now discovering in full.
“Lay down here, Aila,” Dagmar said, showing here where he wanted her. Aila did as he asked, her body trembling with need now. She no longer felt the cold. “Relax, sweetheart. You trust me, remember?”
Aila shook her head, he mind already blanked out by Dagmar’s closeness and her utter vulnerability. Aila watched, entranced, when Dagmar spread her legs open. She braced for the pain she’d heard other women talk about, but what happened next was anything but painful. Dagmar lowered his head and Aila felt the most wicked sensation against her womanhood. A cool wetness touched her, sending shock waves of needy delight through her center. His tongue touched her over and over again, flicking over the small nub and sliding into the hot folds of her aching pussy.
Arching toward him, Aila’s breath caught in her throat. No one had ever made her feel this deliciously wanted before. When she felt his fingers alternate with the cool slide of his tongue Aila crashed through some invisible barrier, crying out his name. “Please,” she begged, her hands shaking as they sank into the thick locks of hair that fell forward over his face.
“Just feel, Aila. Turn your mind off and feel the way your body builds for me. Give me everything you are, so that I can taste the flavor of your arousal.”
Aila didn’t know how to do what he asked, but her body answered when she couldn’t. Her hips bucked wildly against th
e constant attention he paid her. She writhed beneath him, all but begging to know him.
***
Dagmar knew Aila. If nothing else, he knew her. He knew the way she thought, the intensity with which she did everything. Knowing she’d leave disappointed if this wasn’t equally as intense, Dagmar tortured himself to pleasure her. Her body was like a feast to a starving man in the middle of a famine. Her long legs were practically begging to wrap around his hips even while he used his tongue and lips to tease her arousal. His fingers sank into her instinctive heat, building her up easily until she crashed through that edgy peak. He lapped up her cream, tasting the heady flavor of her desire. Using his fingers still, Dagmar brought her own long, slender fingers to him, watching as her eyes snapped open. He grinned as the knowledge of him sank into her. Her eyes, the vibrant green he loved to see there, stared into his as he showed her how to pleasure him in return.
Using her hand under his, Dagmar stroked his hard cock. Back and forth he moved her hand. He throbbed against her hand and smiled when she moved willingly. He cupped her pretty breasts, teasing their warm, pink tips until they peaked hard for him. Dipping his head, Dagmar tasted them in turn, teasing Aila relentlessly until she was thrashing under him.
He settled between her legs, letting his tip feel the wetness of her swollen, vibrant pussy. Her wet lips begged for him. Leaning down he nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips to her ear in a tender move he’d never given a woman before. “Just breathe, Aila. One steady, deep breath in…” Dagmar pierced her then and waited for her exhale. “Again, darling.” Hearing her inhale, Dagmar pulled back and pressed in again, creating a rhythm with her breaths that gave Aila the control.
“Again,” he encouraged her. “Again.” Over and over again Dagmar spoke softly to her, building up her confidence until her body moved in sync with his. Her tight opening created such a sweet pressure against his throbbing cock that Dagmar fought for control as he entered her again. The relentless squeezing of her tight pussy pushed him beyond his own needs, rushing him on to hers.
Married To The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 3) Page 36