Viking's Gift

by Anne Marsh

  “I won’t break,” I promise and meet his next thrust. I ache deep inside and I need him to move. He fills me up like no one else ever has, so why would I want to wait?

  He kisses me—probably to shut me up—but then he thrusts again, deeper and harder. Faster. I kiss him back with all the urgency I’m feeling lower down. He’s so big and thick and everything perfect that I’m pretty sure my eyes roll back in my head. I can feel each inch of him as he rides me harder. His arms clench around me, caging me in his strength, and holy hell I love this man. I don’t know how or why my heart’s on the bullet train when it should be taking the scenic route, but… I love him.

  He thrusts, sending sensation rippling through me, and I meet him. He feels so good. He makes me feel good. All I can do is hold onto him. He grinds against me, giving me everything he’s got, and I hold onto him. He’s so big and so powerful, this Viking with a bear-sized heart. He moves faster and harder, thrusting deep inside me, and I’m groaning and crying out, lost in the sensations he wakes in me. This is perfect. This is where I belong, here in his bed, his arms, his life. He makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in so long—as if I’m as much a part of him as he is of me.

  When my orgasm tears through me and I scream out his name, legs squeezing his hips, hands digging into his shoulders, he lets out a roar and then he comes. We’re both shouting and panting, our bodies slamming together to wring those final seconds of pleasure from our connection, and he’s wrecked me. No one else could ever compare.

  Carr

  I’m still gasping for breath when Dee starts talking. She must not have come hard enough if she still has air for speech—I’ll have to try harder.

  “Are you okay?”

  Is her question for real? I roll away from her—or try to. She follows like she’s seriously attached to my chest now. Her arms tighten around my ribs, her chin digging into my sternum as she gazes up at me. I need distance. A continent’s worth of space.

  Because that look in her eyes…

  I’ve seen it once before, right before I screwed everything up.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “That’s good.” Her smile dims just a little. I did that. I made her feel good—and then I didn’t.

  “You doing okay?”

  We’re so fucking polite. I should tell her how amazing her tits are, compliment her ass, her face, any part of her because it’s true. Her body is amazing and I’m lucky as hell she let me touch her. The words don’t come though. I just stare at her and I don’t even know what I’m waiting for.

  She does.

  Her shoulders tense, her fingers stroking over me. Feels like she fucking touches the heart hiding beneath all that bare skin and bones. She cracks me open and drags me out. I’m trying to lock her out, keep her safe, and she won’t stay where I put her. I can feel her trying to get closer. First by stripping off our clothes, then by taking me inside her, and now…

  Now she’s gonna want the words.

  I try to move away but she won’t let go. She doesn’t take a hint from my silence, either.

  “I love you,” she says.

  Game. Over.

  My heart tries to jump out of my stupid chest, my hands opening and closing on her bare back. Somehow, the stupid fingers attached to those hands end up tangled in her hair, winding the silky strands round and round as if that’s enough to keep us together. I need to get up and shower. Put on some clothes. I’ll bet she’d like to clean up too. Maybe eat something. Get some sleep because it’s late and we’ve had a long day. I can’t talk about this right now.

  Or ever.

  Never also works for me.

  She rises up on one elbow—an elbow that’s planted firmly over my heart. As if I’m somehow supposed to shake that off.

  “Carr?”

  “Don’t love me,” I say. “You have no idea what a bad idea that is. I could make you a list but—”

  “Carr—”

  See there’s my name again, and the first in a long list of problems is how much I like hearing her say my name, part sweet, part exasperated. Right now she truly does believe she feels something for me. She’s a nice girl and we’ve just had the best sex of my life—and I hadn’t realized that sex doesn’t have to be full of hot, kinky gymnastics to turn you inside out. That all it takes is the right—or the wrong—woman.

  Okay. So what just happened wasn’t just sex. If I think about it too much, I might want to say those three words to her too.

  “We’re done here.”

  I sit upright and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Have sex. Get going. She needs to understand that my dick and my strength are all I have for her. I can fuck her and I can fight for her. Anything else isn’t happening.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I stride to the door, never mind that I’m buckass naked and this is my room. It’s way past time to go. I’ve read her notebook. She wants a home and I’m a mercenary who fights my way around the world. I’m not Mr. White Picket Fence and no way will I give her a cub. Kit. Fuck if I know what we’d have together, but my imagination promptly goes to work imagining a little girl with her momma’s eyes.

  What if this could work?

  And then my brain oh-so-helpfully decides to work overtime, suggesting all the ways my enemies could go after my werewolf and my baby girl. I could come back and find her body crushed and lifeless, buried beneath a ton of snow and rock. This time, I could see the damage instead of only mourning it from a distance.

  I can’t do this again.

  “Stay as long as you like, but I gotta go,” I announce and bolt for the door.

  Dee

  Home isn’t always a place.

  Sometimes, it’s a person. Or the big, surly, too-silent Viking werebear disappearing through the door. My Carr. Who knew that three simple words could make a grown man leave without his clothes or his weapons? I wasn’t thinking when I said the words out loud—I was too busy feeling. Something Carr apparently only does in the throes of orgasm. He didn’t even have the courtesy to say thank you or you’re a nice woman but I don’t feel that way about you. He could have tacked on a yet.

  He didn’t.

  Apparently, I love an ungrateful, rude idiot.

  Given my previous dating history, this really shouldn’t come as a shock. And yet here I am, mouth hanging open, arms by my sides, alone in his ginormous bed. I take a second to appreciate the enormity of my mistake. Carr thinks my feelings are a mistake. That we’re a mistake.

  I get this funny ache in my chest because what if he’s right?

  What if I’m the one who’s got it all wrong?

  I fly out of the bed before I can do too much thinking. It’s true I haven’t known him long, but he’s a good man. He fights hard, he guards the people he cares about, and he has a wicked sense of humor. I’d like to spend the next fifty years or so learning all his secrets. Of course, I’d also like to say his heart is in the right place, but it’s not. It should be next to me in our bed—and instead it’s disappearing down a hall in a Viking keep in Greenland.

  Back in the caves, when I was surrounded by the pack, I waited for a male to choose me. I made lists and plans. Drew up strategies for seduction and tried to figure out how to make myself attractive to the best of the bunch. I had it all wrong. I didn’t need to change, didn’t need to figure out how to be who they wanted. I just had to be me and I had to be open to love.

  I’m not waiting for Carr to pick me this time—I’m going after him.

  I yank the door open, trying not to wince at the deafening noise it makes when it slams into the wall. The Vikings should invest in some doorjambs—it would definitely save on the wear and tear. I should probably stop to find some clothes, but Carr’s moving fast and the hallway is empty.

  I sprint after him, trying to ignore the sudden draft and chills in places that haven’t been bare to the elements in years.

  “Hey,” I bellow. It may not be romantic, but that’s Carr’s fault. I
tried romance—and he ran. Now I’m going for direct.

  The man stops dead and looks over his shoulder. Yes, his face looks more than a little incredulous. I remind myself that he started this. He promptly makes it clear that he intends to finish it by striding down the hallway. At least he’s not running anymore, although his pace would make a medal-winning speed walker happy.

  I take a moment to consider my options. We’re in the middle of a public hallway. Naked. And in my case, freezing my butt off. The Vikings need to install heated flooring because all this stone is seriously hard on the body. Hopping from foot to foot—because I abandoned dignity when I ran after Carr au naturel—I share a few more of my feelings with him.

  At top volume. Just, you know, in case there’s something wrong with both his heart and his ears.

  “You don’t get to walk away from me.”

  Does he stop? Nope. Not a chance.

  The plus to the Vikings’ love of big stone keeps is that the hallway isn’t short. I have plenty of runway for this conversation. I sprint after him and launch myself at his back.

  The man has excellent reflexes. He pivots to meet me and my breasts slam into his chest. Fine. This isn’t the place I wanted to have this conversation and I’d really prefer to be doing it dressed but I’ll take what I can get. I wind my arms around his neck and climb him like a baby monkey. When I wrap my legs around his waist, he groans and parts of him definitely don’t want to leave me behind.

  “Say you’re sorry,” I demand, raising myself up so I can look him in the eye.

  “The fuck?” He looks startled, but his arms close around me, holding me up. Thank God because I should work out more (or at all). My muscles are trembling already, although I’m going to blame our recent mind- and body-blowing sex marathon.

  I pin him with a glare. I’m cold, I’m frustrated by his lack of relationship skills, and I’m naked in a public place. “You hurt my feelings.”

  His arms tighten as he studies my face. “Okay?”

  “No. Not okay,” I say firmly. “So you get to apologize now.”

  His eyes darken and he groans. “Dee.”

  “We had sex and it was amazing and then when I shared with you how I was feeling, you bolted out of bed faster than Usain Bolt.” Since he’s doing all the supporting, I pull my hands away from his neck and poke him in the chest as hard as I can. “I’m not okay with that, so you need to apologize.”

  “You said you loved me,” he roars.

  I hear doors opening. Oh good—all of his fellow Vikings probably have rooms in this hall and we’re about to become the late night show. This is also Carr’s fault, since we could be having this conversation in bed like civilized, adult people. He’s the one who insisted on dragging our shit out into the hallway for the keep’s entertainment.

  “And I think I do.” I poke his chest again.

  “Think?” He snarls the question as if he gets to have it both ways. As if he can ignore my words and make me repeat them.

  “You make it difficult, but yes. So apologize.”

  He makes a rough sound and rests his forehead against mine. “You’re fucking impossible.”

  Someone groans behind us. Great. The peanut gallery of Vikings is about to weigh in.

  “You could just do it,” I offer helpfully. “And after your apology, maybe we could go back to your room because your hallway is drafty and my ass wasn’t really intended for public consumption.”

  Carr shakes his head but he starts walking—toward the bedroom and without apologizing. Figures he’d suck at groveling. Usually Vikings are big on fighting first. They go in with weapons swinging, bears ready to beat down anyone who gets in their way… so no, I don’t think my man is going to be trotting out the I’m sorries any time soon, but it was worth a shot. Still, I do my best to not look at any of the open doors. I’ve been dumped in a blizzard, assaulted beneath a Christmas tree, and now I’m Lady Godiva-ing my way through the keep riding an enormous, happy-to-see-me Viking dick. Carnival sideshows have nothing on me.

  Carr strides through the open door, kicks it shut behind us, and then drops me onto the bed. My feet applaud this move. Given how cold it is in Greenland during the winter, I plan on making him carry me everywhere.

  He sprawls on the bed and grabs my feet in his big hands, rubbing them. I’m definitely on board with this new plan. “Why are you so difficult?”

  I fight the urge to apologize and back down. If I want Carr, I have to fight for him. For us.

  “Why did you leave?”

  He sighs. God, the man’s cute when he’s all riled up. “You’re not what I expected.”

  “Not into cross-species dating?”

  “I don’t date,” he says.

  “Ever?” He sounds serious, but how can a man who looks like him be entirely off the market?

  He shrugs. “Move over.”

  I slide over and he gets into the bed with me. And since my feet are cold from our hallway vacation, I put the cold soles on his calves. The air sort of whooshes out of him in an offended gasp. Yes, my feet are icy. Now it’s my turn to shrug. “If you’d stayed, they wouldn’t be cold.”

  “You could do way better than me,” he says, deadly serious. “The sex was fucking amazing, but you like to talk about feelings and shit.”

  “Feelings and shit? Good to know you’re such a romantic.”

  He just looks at me.

  “Do you have a word quota? Are there only so many sentences you can utter in twenty-four hours?” The look on his face gets darker so I move on. “So you never date, you don’t have feelings, and you’re a sex master. What else do I need to know?”

  He drops my foot, crossing steely arms over his chest. “I’ve had feelings before.”

  “And?”

  “And my feelings got her killed, all right? I had a job to do, I left her in the keep so I could do that job, and my enemies showed up while I was gone. Kari ended up dead because of me.”

  “So that’s your explanation? Someone dear to you died, so now you’ve decided to pass on all emotions for the rest of your life? Because I’m sorry someone you cared about died, but we’re still alive. We’re here.”

  We’re just not… together.

  “I’m keeping you safe,” he bellows. We’re definitely waking up all the neighbors tonight.

  “Nope. Not convinced.” I lean into his side. “I think you’re scared, big guy.”

  His arm comes around me and I wonder if he realizes how tight and close he’s holding me.

  “You left me,” I point out.

  “And you came after me.”

  “That’s my point, big guy. You leave, I follow, and we end up right back here in bed. As long as any leaving is followed by some returning, we’re all good.”

  “I left on a job,” he grits out. “Not long after Loki made us into what we are today, we swore to fight together. We became mercenaries, our swords for hire by those who could pay us. Some of us, we’d had homes of our own, families, responsibilities, you know? And we tried to balance that with being a fighting force. Went out on missions, came home. Seemed like it should be simple. And then one day I came home and found the frost giants had paid me a visit in my absence and everyone was dead.”

  Carr

  “You had a family?” The smile slips off Dee’s face as she cuts straight to the heart. To my heart, if I’m being honest.

  Yes. I had a family. I try not to think about those days or about the way I failed them because I can’t go back in time. I can’t change the decision I made to honor my commitments to my king and walk away from my wife. I told myself it was just for a few months, that I could go back and everything would be just as it had been.

  But when I went back, I wasn’t the first to reach my keep. Fighting in the Norse world makes you enemies and some of those enemies don’t play by any rules. The ice giants had raided my keep in my absence. They’d smashed down the walls and forced their way inside. The guards I’d left behind had fought
but they’d lost, and then the ice giants had smashed everything and everyone. My marriage had been arranged like most were, but we’d grown to love each other. When Kari died, my life died too. I no longer had a keep, a wife, and an anchor. I’d thrown myself into fighting.

  Looking at Dee’s sweet, teary face as she tries to imagine losing that much, I know I’ve given up on more than I realized. Life is harsh and being bigger, stronger, and more vicious on a battlefield than my opponents isn’t enough to hold the hurt at bay. If I stay here with Dee, I’ll have to be strong enough to walk away from her when it’s time to fight. I’ll have to trust that there will always be a way to come back to her—or that the time we have together will be enough.

  Feeling that much terrifies me.

  She is my choice and that would make losing her even harder.

  “Were you married?” she asks.

  I nod. I’m not sure I can say these words out loud, but the look on Dee’s face is part hope, part sorrow. Even without knowing the details, she mourns what happened to me all those centuries ago.

  “It was a long time ago,” I start. The truth is, I will never forget. Kari’s laughing, never solemn, always happy face is burned into my memory. She was good for me and in the end I failed her. I don’t even know what she looked like when she faced down the frost giants, because the keep burned after their assault. There was nothing left for me to bury. “We had only been married for a year.”

  She had wanted a baby, but it hadn’t happened yet. She teased that since I was so rarely home, I needed to make more of an effort. I’d laughed and carried her off to our bedchamber to get to work on it—but after, when I found what was left of our home, I was grateful I’d sired no child. How could I have lost both of them? How could I ever handle losing Dee?

  “You loved her.” Dee’s crying for me, shedding the tears I couldn’t, and each tear is like a knife in my heart.

  “Don’t cry for me,” I whisper, wanting to beg her. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. “It’s over now.”