Page 25 of A Shield Maiden's Earl
I was helpless to do anything but bask in all the delicious ways he kept making me feel. The touch of his hands. His breath against my tender, vulnerable skin. And everything only intensified as he continued down my stomach, and over my hips until he spread my thighs and put his mouth where his fingers had been minutes before.
Gasping at how much more intense it felt this time, I thought to stop him, but soon lost myself to the feel of him tasting me in a way I didn’t know men tasted women. To the wonderful feeling of him licking and devouring me, causing the sweet ache between my thighs to swell into a heavy throb that would soon take me over that incredible edge again.
“Not just yet,” he murmured, denying me it when he came over me, settled between my thighs, and gazed into my eyes. “Soon, though, wife and ’twill be even better this time.”
Where I had long thought that when this moment came, I would be frightened or at the very least nervous, when he kissed me and rubbed his heavy ridge against my sensitive folds, I only felt a terrible aching need for him. For how he could make me feel.
“Please,” I whimpered hoarsely, shocked I had uttered the word, but I was desperate for more…what came next.
It seemed he was, too, because the next thing I knew, he was gazing into my eyes and slowly pressing into me. Stretching me. Filling me. And while there was a pinch of discomfort at first, it soon gave way to something else entirely. Something so much more consuming and magnificent as he fully seated himself, his eyes adrift in pleasure, before he thrust not quickly, as I had seen some men do, against the sides of buildings or even against trees in the woodland, but slowly.
At least at first.
But then I couldn’t fault him for speeding up when I begged for it. Needed more. All he could offer me. The throbbing ache plaguing me had fanned out, filling my entire body with an overwhelming desperation to reach that pinnacle with him. To see and feel him go over that edge, too. When that happened, my own pleasure only seemed to intensify, and I moved with him. Became one with him in a way that had us both groaning with need.
When I wrapped my legs around him, it pulled him even deeper inside me, heightening my pleasure. Beyond desperate for more, I gripped his back and we moved even faster. Thrust harder, hitting a fevered pitch, our skin slick with sweat. Frenzied, crazed with need, we moved until a swelling sensation roared through me. Hitting his peak at the same time, he thrust deep, locked up against me, and released a ragged groan against the side of my neck.
Crying out, I held on tighter, digging my nails in at the feel of him throbbing inside me mixed with a spearing, indescribable, full-bodied sensation that put everything I’d felt to this point to shame. One that went on for some time as our hearts slammed against each other, and we struggled to catch our breath.
Eventually, as if worried he had taken me too roughly, he looked at me with concern and trailed his finger along my jaw. “How do you feel, wife?”
Basking in the afterglow of everything he’d made me feel, only one thing came to mind, so I offered a sleepy smile. “I feel like I will be giving you many strong sons and daughters.”
Relief flashed in his loving gaze, and he met my soft smile before rolling off me and pulling me against his side. “I suspect you might be right.”
“’Twas good of you to give me time, but now I wonder if I should have made you wait,” I murmured, trailing my finger down his chest, growing sleepier by the moment. “Knowing what I know now.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting, lulling me to sleep soon after it seemed because when I stirred awake again, I cuddled against him beneath the furs on our bed. Rain fell steadily on the turf roof, and the fire was down to embers.
Or at least it was until my talisman warmed and flames flickered to life.
Caught in a familiar waking dream, I wrapped a fur blanket around my shoulders and drifted to the fire. Captivated by the way the flames moved, I became mesmerized by the vivid crimson and flaming yellows that gradually turned to pale blues and dark greens, swirling within until they formed a pattern.
“A Scottish plaid,” I murmured, gazing deeper. Feeling more. Seeing more, the green became a stone, and the stone became my sister, Astrid’s, pale blue eyes staring back at me.
Fearful eyes full of warning.
“What is it, sister?” I whispered, shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”
She looked past me to where Soren lay sleeping, and I swore I heard her say, “Don’t let him go,” yet when I looked back at her, she was gone, and fire was nothing more than dying embers again.
“What is it, Freya?” Soren murmured, stirring awake. Alarmed, he came to me. “Are you well?”
“Ja,” I said softly, explaining that I had just heard from my sister in Scotland via the flames. “She warned me you should not go.” Frowning, I shook my head. “I couldn’t say where, yet ’twould only make sense given recent rumors it would be to Scotland.”
“’Tis nothing you need worry about at the moment.” Soren sighed and urged me to return to bed. “There has been no word yet from King Hákon, so ’tis merely rumor until ’tis more and nothing that need ruin this night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me of these rumors?” I crawled back into bed with him. “We have talked much, but nothing about that. I had to hear it from Brynhild despite it being something you might have mentioned sooner, given my sister is there.”
“Because I didn’t want you fretting when oftentimes rumors carried from tribe to tribe with many a tavern in between, can be misconstrued.” He tucked me against him. “Rather, I wantedyou to enjoy your time getting to know your new tribe whilst you reacquainted yourself with your new husband.”
“I would say we have accomplished that,” I murmured, finding it challenging to remain frustrated while cozied against him. Before resting my hand on his strong chest, I mistakenly brushed it against his hard arousal, liking the feel of it a great deal now that I knew what it was capable of.
“Mayhap ’twould do us no harm to keep reacquainting ourselves,” I went on huskily. Inhaling his spicy, masculine scent, I trailed my fingers downward, only for him to chuckle and rest his hand gently over mine, ceasing its movement. “If you keep going, ’twill be all the harder to deny you, and you need a day or two to heal after this first time, lest it be quite painful the next.”
Although my desire had returned along with his, there was a pinch of pain below that told me he was right, so despite how frustrated I was, I heeded him and dozed off again faster than I expected.
Despite my nagging worry, the next day dawned bright and clear, and my new life resumed as usual, only better now that I knew what it felt like to lie with my husband. Moreover, I knew we would do it often once I had healed, and we did. Every chance we got as the days rolled by. Sometimes it was slow and romantic, while at other times it was frenzied and out of control.
