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“To remind me why I fight.”
And suddenly, she understood.
He was always the one who died, so that others might live.
For the times that she had glimpsed him in his previous incarnations, for what her sisters had told her about this fearless berserker, and even when she’d met him in the flesh this go-round, she always thought he lived to fight. A true warrior who hungered for war.
He was perfect for the boisterous halls of Valhalla, she thought. Where fighters like him traded war stories, boasted of their feats, drinking and laughing. Whiling away the time untilRagnarök. Not a care in the world.
These men had no regrets. No one they’d miss waiting for them in the living. These men cared more for battle and glory than anything else. The Fates always chose them well.
Could it be…?
Did Kai not fit the mold?
In her moment of doubt and confusion, it was Kai who grasped her hand and brought it to his naked chest, splaying her fingers over his left pectoral.
His heart.
She could feel it thudding steadily beneath her palm like the beat of an ancient drum.
A song of earth.
“Take what you want, Valkyrie,” he husked low.
“Make me feel alive.”
Her fingers clenched over his heart, while the other hand wound around his back, scoring his bronzed skin with urgent need.
Famished, she placed open-mouthed kisses upon his skin, so hot despite the relative frigidity within the ice house. She didn’t feel it, her immortality protecting her from the elements.
But it was more than that. She was hotfor him.
He growled low, approvingly, as one large hand cupped the back of her head. It wasn’t to control her, but to encourage. His hand simply followed her as she moved, licking across his upper chest, his collarbones, thrusting her tongue into his suprasternal notch, making him moan.
Gods! she loved the sounds he made.
Earthy, raw and primitive. It felt like she could move mountains when she made him come apart with pleasure like this. She’d never hummed with such power inside. He made her feel…
So much.
She buried her face in the deep groove between his pecs, licking inside the valley. Her hand at his back traveled lower, grabbing onto a hard, round globe.
And squeezed.
He grunted, thrusting his hips reflexively, clenching those rock-like muscles against her touch. Her fingertips could barely gain purchase on the unyielding flesh, so she dug her nails into his skin like a possessive Lynx, holding him tight.
“Woman,” he rumbled, using the hand still wrapped in her hair to yank back her head so that he could spear his gaze down at her.
“Cease your teasing and fuck me. Or I’ll take control and do the fucking myself.”
A thoroughly delighted laugh trembled through Eir’s throat.
Ah, how she loved his brashness. His straightforward simplicity.
She bit down on one of his flat, copper nipples in chastisement, making him hiss. Even so, she hurried to do his bidding. For it was her bidding too.
She wanted more than anything to have him.
