One Night with the Viking

by Harper St. George

  Avalt’s sweet voice reached her ears again, calling for her from the confines of her chamber. It forced herself out of her own head and she pushed against Gunnar’s light hold. ‘I have to go,’ she whispered.

  ‘Can I meet your son? Avalt?’

  Those were not the words she thought he would say. For the life of her, she didn’t know what had prompted them. Had he guessed or was the request his way of making peace? Was he telling her that he wanted to try to win her back? She had no idea and right now it didn’t matter. She was too confused, too hurt, to consider either.

  ‘Another time.’

  His expression didn’t change, but his arm dropped back to the hilt of the sword he’d placed against the wall, leaving her free to hurry to her chamber and close the door behind her.

  * * *

  Gunnar watched her walk away with a mixture of pain and anger warring for dominance. There were countless reasons for his anger: his father’s rejection, the fact that Kadlin had married someone else, had a child with someone else, that he’d never be able to fight like a warrior again. Oh, the list was endless. But the one thing that stood out above all the others, the one thing that made his blood boil beneath his skin, leaving it itchy and tight, was that she was right.

  He’d had her and he’d lost her. The knowledge burned deep within him and made him want to sink his sword to the hilt into something alive and breathing. It was too bad Baldr had run. He could use a fight just now.

  Fighting had always been his outlet for anger, frustration and pain, but now it wasn’t an option. There was Vidar, but he would beat the boy too quickly, even with his lame leg. The only option with Kadlin was to face their battle head-on. She didn’t want to admit that she had any feelings left for him, but she did. He’d seen them when she’d talked to him after his father’s visit, he’d felt them when she had so sweetly kissed him back, he saw them in the pain in her eyes just now. He wanted to take that pain away and soothe the hurt he had caused her. He wanted her to look at him the way she had in the past and admit to her lingering feelings for him. But he knew she wouldn’t and he couldn’t blame her.

  You let me go.

  The accusation stung no matter how many times he turned it over in his mind. His obvious response had been: You didn’t wait. But he’d let it die on his tongue because it was unfair. He’d told her to move on. Besides, it cut too close to what had wounded him the most. She had just moved on so easily while he had still longed for her. He was still longing for her. By the gods, he’d seen the longing in her as well and something within him needed to fulfil that longing in her.

  He clenched his jaw and grabbed the sword to make his way back to his chamber, her words still echoing in his mind. His leaving had hurt her more than he realised. For the first time, he wondered if something had happened to force her to marry someone else, if maybe she’d been forced to move on. The blow when he’d realised she had married had sent him into a dark mourning that had allowed for nothing but his own self-absorbed pain. In his mind, it had been inevitable that he would lose her, so he hadn’t even stopped to consider what had made her do it. He had simply assumed that she had found someone she loved more than she claimed to love him. Seeing her pain now had him wondering if that was true. Had his leaving her made her feel so rejected that she had moved on or had there been something else?

  Tossing the sword to the floor, he dropped the fur across the foot of the bed and eased himself down on top of it. The ever-present throbbing in his leg had grown worse from his exertion and even his shoulder was beginning to ache from holding the sword. It should have been enough to send him to sleep, the only escape he had, but it wasn’t. His mind kept churning over his conversation with Kadlin and then settling on the question of why she had married. Had her hand been forced?

  Avalt’s squeal of pleasure reached him through the closed door and he pushed himself up to rest on his elbows. Gunnar had been doing everything in his power to avoid the child up to now. His request to meet him had in part been as penance for the way he’d behaved and to prove to her that he regretted his part in what had happened between them. In part, because he was curious about her life that had moved forward without him, as he was obsessed with all things Kadlin. Her son was a part of that life, a part of her, and Gunnar still had a deep-seated need to know everything about her.

  His thirst for her had never been quenched. It never would be. What had been between them was still there. Touching her, kissing her and then seeing her with Baldr had driven that point home better than he could have imagined. She’d run from him after their kiss because she’d also realised that whatever was between them wasn’t dead. She was running scared, afraid to confront it. Aye, afraid to confront him, afraid that he would hurt her again. Except this time they were both older. He wouldn’t hurt her because this time they both knew that their love could be nothing more than physical. He could give her pleasure, show her his love in the only way that he could. He couldn’t marry her, couldn’t spend the rest of his life with her as he wanted, but he could demonstrate his love with his touch.

  She was his just as he would always be hers. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. She didn’t realise it, because he’d made sure not to let on, but he’d heard her greeting to Baldr and the words they spoke before sitting down to eat. He knew that she wasn’t married any more and nothing was stopping her from being his for a little while. Now that he was here with her, so close to her, he’d have her again. It infuriated him that she hadn’t bothered to mention her lack of a husband to him, but he saw it now as the only shield she could carry against him. He despised the need for shields between them.

  If the past few nights were an indication, she was having as much trouble sleeping as he was. He’d find her tonight when she couldn’t sleep and he’d make her admit that she wanted him still. The flame that burned between them was brighter than ever. The future was still a black wall that he couldn’t see through, but for now, he could show her pleasure to help atone for all the wrongs he had done to her. She was the only one who had ever cared for him. It was a paltry offering, but it was the least he could for her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kadlin flopped on to her back, anticipating another sleepless night. Her body was tired, yet her mind wouldn’t be still for sleep. It was filled with Gunnar. Always Gunnar—she was growing tired of the constant thoughts. Her life had been good for the past year. She’d made a home that she was proud of and raised a child whom she adored. There had been whole days when she hadn’t even thought of Gunnar. She had more than proven to herself that she didn’t need him. Or any man. An argument she’d had to remind her father of numerous times since learning of Dagan’s death.

  It didn’t stop her from wanting Gunnar, though, and that was the crux of her problem as well as the source of her disappointment. If she couldn’t stop her madness, then she would allow him to hurt her all over again. It couldn’t happen. The pain before had been almost unbearable and now she had Avalt to consider. She couldn’t let herself fall into the black hole Gunnar’s rejection had cast her into the first time. She didn’t have the luxury this time around, not with her son needing her. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

  Besides, she had more to consider at the moment than her failed affair. Baldr posed a very real threat to her. If Jarl Hegard was actually deranged enough to give Baldr the farm, then she would have no home. As a matter of fact, Jarl Hegard might cast her off the property himself, since Eirik had fallen out of his favour. The jarl had been indulgent of her thus far, but she had a feeling that his charity would end soon. Perhaps it was time that she returned home to her parents. She’d enjoyed her freedom, but she’d known that it had only been a temporary break from responsibility. It was time to consider Avalt’s future, which meant that it was now seriously time to consider another marriage for herself, even as the mere thought made her heart ache. Somewhere d
eep inside, she’d known that her days alone were coming to an end. Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths until the pressure in her chest eased. She wasn’t a girl any more, so it was time to give up fanciful daydreams.

  If she was rational, there was only one thing to do. With Vidar and Harald’s family so near, Gunnar hardly needed her to see him well. She’d begin making preparations to move home. Once there she’d allow her father to arrange a match for her, someone who would accept Avalt. It was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. Before any of that, though, she had to tell Gunnar that Avalt was their son.

  Anxiety churned in her belly at the thought.

  ‘Stop this madness,’ she whispered to herself. ‘It doesn’t matter. He can’t hurt you more than he already has.’

  With a sigh, she sat up in bed and pulled the blanket up over Avalt’s small frame. Easing from the room, she passed the alcove where Vidar usually slept and noted that it was empty. He was probably at Harald’s, attempting to lure Ingrid out into the night to have her alone. Kadlin had already spoken to the girl about Vidar’s attentions, but whether she would heed her warnings, Kadlin didn’t know. On silent feet she crossed the front room and added a bit of wood to the fire to combat the slight chill and then lit a few candles. She’d need a proper inventory of her supplies if she was planning to move. Some of it she would take, but the rest could go to Harald’s family. Might as well start tonight since she wasn’t sleeping anyway.

  As she sorted the sacks and jugs, her mind drifted from the task, and no matter how she tried to stop them the questions swirled of their own will. She groaned in frustration and blinked several times to clear her mind. It didn’t matter. Of course it didn’t matter. Gunnar was a part of her past, at least as far as her feelings went. That’s the way it had to be. It just had to—

  A prickling heat along her neck was her only warning before his voice cut through the surprisingly short distance between them.

  ‘Turn around, Kadlin.’

  How could she not? She spun and pressed herself against the table, her knuckles white from gripping the table’s edge so tightly. He stood just before her, mere feet away.

  ‘Gunnar...’

  ‘Don’t say it.’

  ‘How did...how did you get here? I didn’t even hear...’ But she couldn’t even form a rational thought, because he looked at her as if he wanted to devour her. She’d seen him admire her. She’d even seen desire in his eyes when he kissed her. The amount of heat the man was able to convey in his eyes alone was enough to dissolve her into a puddle of need at his feet. But this...this was more. This was raw hunger, a need that demanded as much as it wanted. He stood before her in his trousers, but nothing else. The fire at his back reflected in the deep red of his hair and made it so she couldn’t even clearly see his face. Its flickering light played with shadows there, revealing only his eyes and the movement of his lips when he spoke. The play of darkness and light made him appear almost predatory, but the thought didn’t fill her with fear at all. Not the fear that she should feel being in a house alone with him in the middle of the night.

  She almost jumped when he moved, but managed to hold herself still as his hand came up to her chin. The backs of his fingers moved in a too-gentle-to-be-believed caress before his palm cupped her cheek. It took every ounce of her will to stop herself from leaning into his touch. But she did close her eyes when his thumb traced over her lips, settling on a slow back-and-forth rhythm that made tingles travel from the contact down to her breasts, tightening her nipples until she was sure he could see them straining beneath her nightdress, if he bothered to look. But when she opened her eyes, he was still holding her gaze.

  ‘You’re beautiful.’ The rasp of his voice moved through her to settle deep within the cracks that she feared would never truly mend. His thumb moved to the corner of her mouth, pressing ever so slightly to gain access, so she bit him.

  She thought he smiled, or at least his eyes crinkled in the corners, but he didn’t draw back. So she released him with her teeth and sucked his thumb, her tongue laving over the tip to taste him just once before she turned her head away, releasing him. Instead of retreating, he shifted on his sapling and closed most of the distance between them, leaving only a breath of space. His hand trailed down her neck and breast without stopping until coming to a rest on her hip.

  ‘Gunnar—’

  ‘You can deny that whatever has always been between us still exists. You can deny it all you want, but it doesn’t make it go away. It’s there, Kadlin, and it always will be.’

  She closed her eyes again, willing the heat of his touch to go away, but it wouldn’t. The ripples of pleasure that had begun in her belly spread lower with the heat, making her body heavy and pliant to his touch. When she didn’t move, he dipped his head lower so that his lips brushed over her cheekbone and then even lower, skimming the edge of her mouth. She took a ragged breath when he moved down past the column of her neck to settle a kiss at the hollow at its base. He nuzzled her there, his lips moving against her skin as he whispered, ‘I want to touch you, to give you pleasure.’

  ‘Why?’ It was a simple question, but her heart pounded in her head as she awaited the answer. When it came, he spoke against her skin, his voice rumbling through her while his fingertips bit lightly into the flesh of her hips.

  ‘Because I took so much from you over the years and I want to give some of it back to you. Because we should have had so much more than we’ve been allowed and I want to relish every bit of you while I can.’ His teeth scraped her flesh as he said that, causing her to tremble and gooseflesh to rise on her skin, the sensation pleasurable and wicked.

  Then he abruptly released her, leaving her bereft without his warmth, his touch. She watched him, torn between the fear of accepting his touch and the fear that if she pushed him away that she would never feel it again. He moved a chair over to set it before her and she watched, puzzled, as he sat down so that his left leg had room to stretch out to the side. She couldn’t fathom his intention when he quietly placed the sapling on the ground and straightened to look at her. She tried to meet his gaze, and now that he was low enough that the pool of candlelight from the table could light his face she tried to look at him. But it was too much. A blush stained her cheeks and she dropped her attention to his chest, solid and wide with muscle.

  ‘Turn around and sit on my lap.’

  Her eyes snapped back to his face at the command to find a challenge lighting his eyes and the corner of his mouth tipped up. If he had touched her first, if he had continued his delicious assault on her senses, she might have made herself obey by simply letting him do what he wanted. But how could she when he sat there and ordered her to do things that she knew she shouldn’t do? How could she go into the fire that was almost certain to burn her alive with her eyes wide open?

  As if sensing the battle that raged within her, he took her hand in his. His fingers gripping hers with just enough strength to be reassuring rather than forceful, as his thumb trailed back and forth across her knuckles. But then he leaned forward, bringing the heat of his body into dangerously close proximity to hers. His face was level with her breasts and he gave them a thorough appraisal that had them straining through the fabric of her nightdress, before meeting her gaze. ‘I can have you this way, as well, if you’d rather.’ He released her hand and gripped the loose fabric, pulling the hem up her legs.

  ‘What are you doing to us? Are you mad?’

  ‘Aye, I could be, but I don’t care any more.’

  His attention shifted back to her breasts, making her almost strain towards him so that his mouth would find her nipple. Just when she was on the verge of putting it there herself, she spun around to save herself from the temptation. His grip on her hips tightened and he pulled her down to sit on his lap, her thighs straddling his right leg. Immediately, he resumed pulling up the hem, leaving her unable to
move to halt him or to help him. She could only watch its progress up her legs until his strong hands were running up the sides of her thighs. But he stopped and moved his left arm around her waist, pulling her back so that she lay against his chest. When her head rested on his shoulder, he turned just slightly so that his lips nuzzled her ear before he lightly nipped the lobe. ‘If I touched you now, would I find you wet?’

  She groaned in the back of her throat and closed her eyes against the truth of his words and the throbbing that began in her core. It wasn’t fair that he affected her so effortlessly. He’d barely even touched her. The hand at her waist moved up to gently cup her breast, his thumb circling around the nipple until she whimpered and arched a bit to make him touch the straining flesh. But he didn’t and his right hand had begun a maddening rhythm of trailing up and down the inside of her thigh, his fingers so close to where she ached but refusing to touch her.

  ‘Is this all only to tease me, so that I’m as mad as you are?’

  He laughed, laughed against the curve of her neck and rubbed his stubbled chin against the tender skin. ‘Do you want me to touch you, Kadlin?’

  ‘You bloody well know that I do.’

  ‘Then you have to tell me. I won’t have you thinking I forced you into something in the morning.’ Yet, he pinched her nipple after he spoke, eliciting a gasp from her as darts of pleasure bolted through her core. Then he retreated, his hand resting just on her ribcage, while his right hand continued its maddening stroking of her thigh.

  With a groan, she grabbed his wrist and brought his fingers to her centre. ‘There,’ she whispered. ‘I need you there.’

  ‘Ah, Kadlin.’ His voice was a sigh against her neck, not mocking or challenging, but full of reverence.

  She closed her eyes as she savoured the feel of his fingertips dipping into her, exploring how aroused he had made her. Spreading the moisture, two fingers found their way upward to the swollen flesh pulsing in wait. When he touched her, circling the bud with the solid pressure of his fingers, she bit her lip to stifle another moan of pleasure. It had been too long since he’d taught her how good his touch could feel and her own fingers couldn’t compare to the skill of his. It was as if he knew just how to touch her, just how much pressure, just the right rhythm, just when the pleasure was mounting too fast and he needed to back off. When he pulled away, she grabbed his wrist, afraid that the tease was only that and wouldn’t lead to the explosive burst of release that she craved.