He came to an abrupt halt, and his forehead dropped to hers again.“I vowed to protect you with my sword and shield, and my hooves and teeth when necessary.I failed you once and it will never happen again.”
“I do not blame you.You couldn’t have known your enemy was watching me.”
“You should blame me.I underestimated him to your detriment.”
“I am whole.Mayhap a trifle bruised, but whole.”
His grip tightened.“It will never happen again,” he fiercely promised.
“You can’t control the random acts of others, mate.Or shield those you care for from their violence.”
“I’ve done it before.I can do it as long as I need to,” he said as he lifted his hand to cup her jaw.
Brunhild shook her head.“No.There is a better way, we must simply find it.”
“The Cut-Throat Maiden is looking for a solution that doesn’t involve spilling blood?”
Her laugh was raspy in response.“I offered no such solution.All I am proposing is an approach that doesn’t require your constant vigilance.”
“I have no reason for vigilance now.Will you help me relax, wife?”
Brun stroked her palms down his chest, curling her fingers into the lattice work of his scars.The sigils seemed to heat beneath her palms, and she slowly traced each one.When she reached the one that began below his left pectoral and ended in a swirl of blue around his right hip, he bucked into her and groaned.“You shouldn’t touch that one,” he warned through gritted teeth.
She gave him a sultry smile.“Why not, husband?”She asked as she stroked the tail of the tattoo.
“ ’Twas placed there to acknowledge the first kill made by my beast and he stirs within me when you pay such close attention to it.”
“Your words don’t deter me, rather they intrigue me,” she admitted as she dipped her head and watched her fingers glide over the taut golden skin once again.The ridge of the scar seemed to pulse against the pads of her fingers.
He roughly tipped her chin up.“Do not say I didn’t warn you, wife,” he said as his lips landed on hers with a bruising, furious kiss that stole the air from her lungs.
“You don’t feel relaxed, husband,” she wickedly observed as she dipped her hand beneath the water and closed it around his staff, gripping it all the way to the end and brushing her thumb over the tip before she let go.“I don’t think my ministrations are working.”
He tossed his head back, the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders drawn sharp.“They’re workin’ lass,” he growled.
When she closed her hands around him again, he dipped his head and peered at her from beneath hooded lids.His eyes glittered as he pushed himself into the circle she’d made.“I liked watching you do this to yourself,” she softly confessed as she stared, mesmerized.By the piston of his hips beneath the water.
When she raised her eyes from her perusal, he kissed her again.“I prefer your hand to mine.”
He upended them into the water with a splash, floating easily on his back.His hands remained on her, holding her to him and preventing her from falling.
Brun brushed her dripping hair from her eyes and gave him pointed look.“I can’t very well continue in this position without tumbling into the water.”
“The waves will cradle us, wife.Ride my beast.”
“You’ve quite the exaggerated opinion of your size and prowess.”
He reached up and tweaked her nose.“ I mean my true beast, and well you know it.”
Brun could feel his arousal beneath her, and when he kicked his leg to propel them backward, her hands clasped his torso so tightly she could feel every rib.“Unlike you, husband, I’m still clothed.”
“That is swiftly remedied.”
“Your aunt would garb me in nothing but skirts and scoffs at my trews.This is the only pair I have.”
“I’ll ensure your wardrobe is full of nothing but trews, wife.They display your limbs, and your sweet little arse, to perfection.Will you be rid of them?”
Brun knew there was no point in dissuading him, and despite her protests, she’d thought about the feel of him gliding inside her during her imprisonment.The realization that she might never feel it again, or the clamp of his teeth at her throat, had saddened her.
