Sitting up, I wrapped her lush, sweat-slicked body in my arms when I knew she was letting go again, and allowed her to bury her cries of pleasure in my neck. Swept away by the feel of her stroking my arousal, I crested that perfect peak with her once more.
Pressing my lips to her temple, I vaguely wondered how I would ever survive her. She felt too good. Too much a part of me. So how was I to leave this room, pretending that she was not mine by law?
I was her husband.
She was my wife.
“In secret,” Astrid whispered, making me realize I must have said those words aloud. Nuzzling into the crook of my neck, she flicked her tongue over my skin as if eager to taste the salt of my sweat. The result of our passion.
What she pulled from me.
What I gave to her.
Then she cupped my cheek, her gaze so tender and loving that it humbled me. “We survive such need for each other by doing this in secret, knowing always how much we love each other. Trusting in that before all else, no matter what we face.”
“And pray we dinnae bear fruit from it too soon,” I murmured, wrapping my hands around her slender waist, nearly encompassing it as she was so petite. “We cannae take chances like this anymore, wife. ‘Tis too bold by half.” I shook my head.“There are ways to go about things without filling you with my seed.”
“Ja,” she agreed softly, trailing her gentle fingers down my neck and over my chest, her eyes at half-mast with desire. Her gaze followed in the wake of her fingers, her sheath still softly caressing me with the aftershocks of our last encounter. “Of course you are right, husband, though there are herbs I can take to mayhap help prevent your seed from sprouting, so worry not.”
Whether there were or were not, somehow, I knew in that moment she would be the death of me if our duties to King Alexander did not end in a timely fashion. The death of us both because we made each other feel so very much. As some part of me had known from the moment I caught sight of her, this chemistry mingling between us, this perfect combination of sweet musky scents, soft textures, and beautiful pale blue eyes would imprison me for all time. Make me hers to do with as she saw fit, whether it would mean our demise or not.
Though hard to fathom, given that we had already released twice and strongly at that, my fierce little shield-maiden was not nearly done with me yet. Instead, she kissed me again, and I was once more lost to her. This time we took things more slowly, and explored one another. Tasting every part of each other.
The pleasure she continued wringing from me only made me need to give her the same in return. While I managed not to let go inside her again as the night went on, it was bloody hard, especially when we were wrapped up in each other’s arms under the blankets into the wee hours of the morning.
Eventually, we finally dozed off with her tight against me, and I slept soundly. More soundly than I had in a long time. Too soundly given that I should not be in here. Fortunately, I stirredawake sometime in the wee hours, only to realize the sun would crest the horizon soon, and it was best I wasn’t here when it did.
Even though I rose quietly, she stirred at my leaving her, murmuring my name in her sleep, but never woke. It was impossible not to gaze at her as I dressed. At some point between kisses and loving caresses, she had unbraided her hair, and its glorious, honey blond locks fanned out around her delicate face on the pillow. Her lips were rosy pink and especially lush from my kisses, and her skin dewy in a way that bespoke of being pleasured well and often.
After sheathing my blades, I left, intending to sit outside her door with Oksana, only to find Stewart already there, sitting on the floor, dozing with a blade in hand, his back to the wall.
Understanding he likely told anyone who might have happened this way that we were taking turns guarding Astrid’s room, I roused him and urged him to grab some rest in bed. The sun would soon be up.
“Nay, ‘tis all right,” he said, speaking softly as I sat beside him with Oksana curled up between us, resting her chin on his lap. “You know I dinnae need much sleep.”
“Aye,” I murmured, much the same, given our lives as warriors often traveling and fighting on behalf of the king. Nodding at him, he knew he had my eternal thanks for doing this for Astrid and me last night. “You are a good friend, Stewart.”
He nodded in return, not speaking to the thanks behind those words lest anyone overhear. I suspected, however, that all slept or had found their way into a woman’s arms, including the king himself. Villages like this were full of lonely lasses in need of coin.
“I worry about this one.” Stewart rested his hand on Oksana. “She doesnae seem quite right, and I cannae say why. Too tired when I get the sense ‘tis nae usually her disposition when guarding her mistress.”
Knowing little to nothing about this breed of dog, I looked the husky over but saw no signs of a festering wound or any other reason for his concern.
“Mayhap ‘tis just all the traveling,” I suggested, running my hand along her soft, thick pelt, undoubtedly suited to ice and snow. Sighing, I shook my head. “Or mayhap lethargy from losing her brother when Astrid first sailed to our shores.”
“Och,” Stewart muttered, shaking his head as well. “I didnae know. ‘Tis sad, that. For both OksanaandAstrid.”
Stewart might be one of the fiercest warriors I had ever met, but when it came to animals, he had a soft, caring heart, as seen clearly in Oksana’s trust in him. I could only pray she would be well, given how much Astrid loved her.
“I told her,” Stewart finally said softly, no longer speaking of huskies. “I told Florie how I felt before we left.”
“And?” I wondered, glad to hear it.
“I dinnae know with any certainty,” he murmured. “We departed straight after, and she had no chance to respond.”
“’Tis good you told her what was in your heart,” I said. “’Twill give her something to think about whilst you are away. A chance to understand her own heart, aye?”
“Aye, I suppose,” Stewart agreed, yet I knew he had hoped for more to carry him through the long, cold months ahead. Clearly not wanting to dwell on unknowns, he arched an eyebrow at me and spoke vaguely. “And what of you, my friend? Were you able to cross bridges with the lass you fancied back home? For ‘tis a long journey ahead.”
