The Viking Warrior's Bride Page 7
Rolfe laughed and clapped Vidar on the back as he left. ‘Remember, patience. I know it’s not your strength, but the women appreciate it.’
Vidar bit out a harsh curse and pushed him out the door. Rolfe’s laughter floated back to him and the last man had barely escaped before Vidar slammed the thick door behind them. He took a deep breath before he turned to face his wife, already knowing what he would find waiting for him. ‘That was not my idea,’ he said, pointing towards the door.
‘It wasn’t your idea to arrive on the backs of your warriors like some conquering barbarian? How surprising.’ She’d settled back against her pillows and had loosened her death grip on the blanket.
He swallowed, determined to not call out her unfair treatment of him. After all, the warrior in him understood it. He’d feel the same if he’d lost in battle and the victor were delivered to him in the same manner. But he hadn’t come to gloat. He’d come to claim what was rightfully his and what she was obligated to give him.
Unquestionable claim to Alvey from all who might challenge him.
Ignoring her rancour, he strode to his chest which had been placed at the foot of the bed earlier that day. Vidar hadn’t actually seen the chamber himself, so he took a look around as he sat down on the chest and started taking off his boots. The chamber was larger than he’d expected. The ceiling was much lower than the one in the great room downstairs and the stone walls were draped in thick tapestries to keep in the heat from the small hearth in the corner. A slat in the stonework above it gave the smoke a place to reach the outside. A high chest stood along one wall, along with shelves along the far wall that held scrolls and a knife collection that he’d have to examine in the morning.
As he tossed his boots to the side, he turned his attention to the bed. It was a rather elaborate affair with a curving headboard made of wood and four posts draped with fabric to keep in the warmth. An image of his wife in that bed with the dark fabric contrasting against her pale skin came to mind and he couldn’t get it to leave. She looked more welcoming in his mind than she did at the moment, however. Her cheeks were flushed, but it was in anger and not arousal.
He nearly sighed aloud at the task ahead. He’d never had to stoop to seducing a woman in his life. From the time he’d first found interest in the female form, there’d been many eager to keep him company. Some of it was because he’d had a reputation for being generous to the women he sought to warm his bed, but he wasn’t bad to look upon. He’d been solicited many times when he’d been in a new place and his wealth hadn’t been known. Never once had a woman looked upon him with the open disgust evident on his wife’s face.
Shrugging out of his tunic and his undershirt, he laid them both across the chest.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, her grip tightening on the blanket again.
‘Coming to bed,’ he explained. Walking around to pull the blanket back on his side of the bed, he blew out the candle on the small table there. A candle still flickered on the table set up with her toiletries, so he thought it best to proceed slowly. She looked ready to bolt and the last thing he wanted was to frighten her unnecessarily by taking his trousers off and setting her off.
She exhaled in what could only be relief and relaxed into her pillow.
He laid there next to her, uncertain for the first time in his life on how to proceed with a woman. To be fair, while he found her attractive, having required relations with her wasn’t high on the list of things he wanted to do that night. Though, if the rise in his trousers was any indication, his body was up for the task.
‘Gwendolyn—’
‘You’ve won my hand,’ she began at the same time. ‘Let that be enough.’
Vidar frowned and rolled over to look at her. ‘What do you mean?’
Her wide-eyed gaze met his. ‘It means that we do not need to take this further.’
‘Further? You mean consummation?’
She nodded. ‘Of course that’s what I mean.’
Vidar took in a deep breath, certain now that he understood her hesitation. If he were in her shoes, he’d probably feel the same. He couldn’t imagine being forced to lie with someone he didn’t want. Then he nearly laughed because that was exactly what was happening, only in his case, a part of him did want her very much. He wanted this brave and strong woman beneath him, crying out his name in pleasure as he drove into her over and over again. He wanted her clinging to his shoulders, her nails scraping down his back as he made her come apart. And that quickly, his erection was at full attention. He reached down and shifted his trousers to find a more comfortable position.
‘You’re my wife now, Gwendolyn, and I’m your husband. In all ways I will protect you and keep you safe. Even in this.’ He reached out to touch the back of her hand with his fingertips.
She sucked in a shaky breath and looked down at the contact before looking back at him. The way her eyes widened and her breathing increased made him think she actually did enjoy his touch very much. He refused to rub that knowledge in and tucked it away to revel in later.
‘I’ll go slowly and there are ways to prepare you. It may hurt at first, but you will learn to find pleasure—’
She moved so fast he barely had a chance to drop his hand before she’d reached beneath the stack of pillows and pulled out a knife. Its jewelled hilt matched the ones he’d seen on the shelf.
‘Let me say this very clearly so you’ll understand. We will not be consummating this marriage.’ She emphasised each word in the statement.
‘You’ve gone daft.’
She smiled, revealing an even row of teeth. ‘You remember that next time you try to touch me and you’ll keep your fingers intact.’
Vidar stared at her, completely taken off guard by her refusal. He knew she’d battle him, but he never imagined that she’d completely deny him what was his by right. The woman was as brazen as they came and he’d have to tame her before it was all over.
Getting to his feet beside the bed, he yanked at the fastenings of his trousers. She narrowed her eyes at him and tightened her grip on the knife pointed at him.
‘What the blazes are you doing?’ she asked.
Tossing his trousers to land in a heap on his clothes at the end of the bed, he said, ‘Going to bed. Do not worry.’ He got back into bed nude and pulled the blanket up over him. ‘I won’t force myself on you. Your surrender will be all the sweeter when it’s given willingly.’ With that he turned his back on her and hoped he didn’t awake with that dagger shoved into it.
Chapter Seven
Gwendolyn stared into the light of the single candle that flickered across the room. Vidar was snoring softly at her side, but she’d yet to be able to fall asleep. Despite her best efforts, every time she closed her eyes she saw his nude body. He’d been as strong and wrapped in muscle as she’d thought he might be. His tunics had hinted at the broad shoulders, thick chest and strong arms beneath, but the hint had been a mere shadow of the real thing.
And though she’d spent most of her life around men and warriors and had thought herself immune to the pleasures of their physiques, something about his made her cheeks warm and a tingle of something unrecognisable zing through her belly. The knife safely tucked beneath her pillow, she brought her hands to her cheeks in an effort to cool them off. She made the mistake of closing her eyes and there he was again. An image of his golden strength and masculinity seared through her mind. Even his thighs had been thick with muscle. And that man part of his...
She forced her eyes open so she wouldn’t dwell on it, but she couldn’t stop. It, too, had been strong and thick and, for some reason she couldn’t begin to fathom, she was curious about it. An ache had begun between her thighs, causing her to squeeze them together to assuage it. What was wrong with her? She didn’t like this man in the least, but her body was certainly curious about him. Holding the
blanket tight against her, she rolled over very slowly so that she wouldn’t wake him. His breathing continued to be deep and even, so she took a moment to study him closer.
In sleep, his expression lost the fierceness and the almost smug quality that she had come to associate with him. The grooves around his mouth had softened enough for her to realise that he really had beautifully proportioned lips. The bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top and they were curved in a slight bow. She tried to remember Cam’s lips, but she couldn’t and that made her feel terrible. To be fair, she’d never spent a great deal of time looking at Cam. He’d been supportive of her archery skills, and had been a very good friend of her brother’s, so his appearance hadn’t been something that she’d considered very much.
Flopping on to her back, she did her best to recreate his image. He hadn’t been golden like the Dane next to her. His hair and eyes had been dark. The women in the hall didn’t stop and stare at him, like she’d noticed they did with Vidar, but neither had Cam been unattractive. He’d always just been Cam.
But he’d been kind. She’d take a kind and easygoing Cam over this infuriating outsider any day. It would take more than a handsome face and pleasing body to sway her. She would make sure of it.
Closing her eyes again, she forced herself to calm down and finally managed to drift off to sleep.
* * *
When she opened her eyes again, it was much later because the candle had burned out and the room was black as pitch. She wasn’t certain what had awakened her, but her heart pounded in her chest and her breath came fast and hard like it did when she was sparring. Only, the sound of her breath wasn’t the only sound she heard. His harsh breath had joined hers. It brushed against her ear, causing her skin to prickle.
‘Gwendolyn,’ he whispered as he placed his lovely mouth against her neck.
She shivered and realised why her heart was pounding so hard. His hand had found its way up her nightdress and was cupping the mound between her thighs. ‘Vidar.’ She stiffened and grabbed his arm, her fingers squeezing the hard muscle that flexed beneath him, but she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Her body was aching—throbbing—for his touch. She didn’t know what was happening, but somehow she knew that his fingers would make it stop.
‘Open your legs for me,’ he whispered, taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth. His fingertips caressed the down at the apex of her thighs.
His command was so wicked and unexpected that she opened her mouth to say nay, but she didn’t really want to deny him. She wanted to know what he would do if she followed his command. Taking her lip between her teeth, she raised her knee just a little, pushing it out to the side. Somehow it seemed all right to allow this experiment to go on. After all, it was dark and the blanket still covered them.
His long fingers moved down between her lips, finding her centre. He groaned harshly against her ear as his two middle fingers moved up and down spreading the wetness she was surprised to feel there. ‘Ah, you’re so wet.’
She blushed, unsure exactly what was happening—was being wet a good thing or something about which to be embarrassed?—and tightened her thighs. But it was too late to hold him back, because the tip of his longest finger had already dipped inside her. Where she ached the most. The source of the slick heat.
She gasped and bit down on her lip to stifle the sound. He laughed softy against her neck, the sound both approval and a gentle taunting. He dragged the broad tip of his finger up over her sex to the nub at the top, bringing that wetness with him. Her flesh was so sensitive that she jumped at the contact, but he soothed her with a kiss as he nuzzled her neck. Then his finger made a circle around that spot, moving slowly over and over again until her hips were chasing him. When he tired of that, he dragged it over the swollen flesh, setting off a flare of lights behind her eyelids. Then it didn’t matter that he was Vidar or that this was probably wicked in some way she couldn’t even fathom, it only mattered that he continued to touch her.
‘Are you ready?’ His finger continued to stroke her, but he raised up enough that she felt his breath against her cheek, though she still couldn’t see his face in the pitch darkness. ‘I want to be inside you.’ He spoke the words, but his voice held a note of request. He was asking permission, and that alone, perhaps even more than his touch, made her want him to.
‘Aye,’ she said. Her body throbbed for his possession and her hand, which had lain dormant at her side all this time, reached up to touch that which was so close. He was hard and long and she wrapped her fingers around him, marvelling at his thickness. When he groaned in obvious pleasure, she squeezed simply to wring the sound from his lips again.
‘I need you.’ His voice was husky with need and he leaned in and whispered filthy words about just what part of her he needed. When she let him go, he climbed over her, pushing her knees apart with his heavy thighs.
She held her breath, waiting for his invasion, knowing that it would counter the throbbing. Her hips pushed against him and her leg curled around his hip, but no matter how she moved, he wouldn’t come inside her. He moved back away from her and she grabbed at him to no avail. He slipped out of her hands.
‘Vidar,’ she gasped. ‘Nay, come back.’ She made a grab for him and her eyes flew open.
Her body still throbbed, but his hand wasn’t between her thighs. It wasn’t even pitch dark. Faint morning light filtered in through the vent slats beneath the roof. The skirt of her nightgown had ridden up past her knees and she was so warm, she’d tossed the blanket off her legs. Bringing her hand to her chest, she covered her pounding heart. Part of her wondered if the dream had been real, while the other wondered how she’d had such a provocative dream. He’d touched her in a way that no one ever had. If it had been a dream, how had she even known to conjure it up? Her one time with Cam had been fast and perfunctory in the woods beside the river. There’d been no touching, at least not like that.
Anger threatened to swell within her, but she was too confused to give it free rein. She tried to turn to see if he was still there and awake, but then she realised why she was so hot. He was pressed up against her back, overheating her. His breath rustled her hair and his chest brushed her back as he breathed in. His hands weren’t on her, though. If he had actually touched her so intimately, his hand would still be on her, wouldn’t it?
She turned her head a bit to look at him over her shoulder and saw that his eyes were closed. He was sleeping. She shifted to slide off the bed, hoping to leave the room before he awoke, but she stilled when something hard nudged her hip. Her face flamed and her heart thundered. He was erect. That male part of him was just as hard as it had been last night.
Her body’s response was immediate. Heat flooded her centre and the delicious ache she hoped she’d left behind in her dream returned. She wanted him. She’d dreamed about him in the night and she wanted him now that it was morning. What was happening to her?
She slid away, but his hand moved to grab her hip, holding her in place.
‘Good morning, wife.’ His voice was rough with morning huskiness as he leaned forward and took a deep breath. ‘Your hair smells good.’
Something about his words or the sound of his voice made her nipples tighten and a tendril of excitement curl through her belly. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that they were a true husband and wife waking up with the morning. But she would not close her eyes and pretend any such thing. Disturbing things happened to her when she closed her eyes so close to him. ‘Good morning,’ she whispered.
Gently and with a subtlety she’d have thought beneath him, he pulled her hip back so that her bottom was pressed against his male appendage. Her gown and nightrail were between them, but she could still feel that he was hot and possibly throbbing, but she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined that part. Her own body was throbbing and she could barely feel anything beyond that.
‘Have you reconsidered your refusal to allow me to properly bed you?’
Ice water couldn’t have done a better job at squelching her arousal for him. ‘This is all a game for you, isn’t it? See how quickly you can get me to capitulate to you?’ She tugged away from him, gaining her feet beside the bed and wrapping her thick nightrail around her.
He grinned at her and rolled on to his back, bringing his hands up to rest beneath his head. He didn’t even bother to hide his erection with the blanket. ‘I do enjoy games. But I woke up with a soft and very aroused woman beside me. I merely thought that bedding you would be a good way to pass the morning.’
‘I was not aroused.’ Even as she blatantly denied the truth, her face flamed and his smile only widened.
His gaze dropped to the apex of her thighs. ‘Do not deny that you are slick with wanting me.’
‘I knew it.’ She tightened the nightrail around her even though she knew that he couldn’t see anything. ‘You were touching me while I slept. It wasn’t a dream. How dare you touch me without my permission!’
The look of shock that came over his face and dropped his chin to his chest could not have been faked. His smile had completely vanished in the wake of his surprise. He had no idea what she was talking about. ‘You dreamed that I touched you?’
Oh, dear God, what power had she given him over her? She swallowed thickly and floundered in the weight of her revelation. ‘Nay... I don’t... You...’
Despite the fact that he might have gloated and teased her, his face sobered and he said, ‘I would never force my attention on you. I knew you were slick because I could smell your arousal.’ She gasped. Both at his bravado in saying such a wicked thing out loud and because she had no idea if such a thing were possible. But he wasn’t finished. ‘When I do take you—and I will take you—it will be with your full submission to me.’