Page 31
Andor ground his teeth. “There is nothing funny about this. Laugh once again and I will leave you behind.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t laugh.”
“What do you swear on?”
Her face straightened. She took a deep breath. “On Brad’s life. He is the most important person to me.”
Her fiancé. The thought of the man she belonged to pained him. And why was his life in danger without Cathy? She had said something about his parents wanting to kill him, but that couldn’t be right. And how would Cathy be able to protect him?
No. No asking about her business.
He nodded. “Fine. Let us go.” He turned and started walking, then his eyes fell on white mushrooms growing on the bark of a tree. He pointed. “You can eat those.”
Cathy frowned at them, dubious. “Really?”
Andor sighed. “Yes. Really.”
Cathy raised her brows and cocked her head to the side. A slow smile spread across her face. “Something other than bread and nuts—Andor, I’m going to feast tonight.”
Joy burst in him at the sight of Cathy happily picking the mushrooms. He cursed. The woman was getting under his skin.
But he just could not resist seeing her pleased.
Thor’s stinky feet. Andor was in trouble.
* * *
Cathy’s smooth skin glowed in the dancing light of the campfire. The gentle arch of her waist, the ripe breasts, the soft curve of her belly loomed over him. They were home, in Hvaldalen, in his bedchamber.
She straddled him, Andor’s cock tightened and swelled inside her. Her golden hair spilled over her sculpted shoulders, covering the top of her breasts. Her moans filled the room as he traced his palm from her stomach up between her breasts then cupped one and circled her nipple with his thumb until it hardened.
She rode him, her eyes closed. Her head fell back, exposing her beautiful neck.
“Andor,” she moaned. “Andor…”
“Yes, my beauty. Enjoy the ride.”
He took both her breasts in his hands and massaged them, making her clench around him tighter.
“Oh, Andor, why were you late?” she moaned, still gliding on top of him.
He froze. “What?”
“Why were you late? You promised you would be back a moon ago.”
He rose on his elbows, an icy cold spear stuck in his throat.
“I did not promise you anything, Cathy. I told you from the start, I will not be responsible for you.”
She stopped moving and opened her eyes. They were green. The smell of burning wood and the iron tang of blood filled his nostrils.
“You promised,” she said.
Andor blinked. It was not Cathy. It was Svana, her hair not golden anymore but brown. Her side gaped with a deep wound.
The granite torc around his neck grew heavier. People screamed in pain, metal rang against metal.
“I am sorry, Svana.”
