Alarr spread out a sleeping fur on the ground and stretched out beside the fire. She knew he was tired from all the travelling, but he had not wanted to stop until now. Likely, he didn’t want any of the guards at Dún Bolg to be aware of their arrival. It was too easy for them to be seen in an open clearing.
She wondered if she should remain on the other side of the fire, apart from him. Ever since she had left, there had been an unspoken tension between them. There was no question that he desired her...and yet, she knew the danger of drawing too close. Alarr allured her, and she could not deny that she wanted him too. If she lay beside him, all her defences would crumble. And then he would leave her. Whether he returned to Maerr or whether he died fighting Feann, the result was the same. It was not wise to let herself care about this man.
‘There’s no need to be afraid of me, Breanne,’ he said. Alarr leaned back on the fur and regarded her. ‘I won’t harm you.’
‘I remember too well what happened the last time I was close to you,’ she admitted. She didn’t trust herself around him.
‘I won’t touch you unless you ask.’ His voice was deep and resonant, as if he wouldn’t mind it at all.
She drew close to the fire, holding out her hands. It was still cool in the morning, but she knew better than to get too close. For a moment, she gathered her thoughts, wondering if there was any means of dissuading him from his chosen path. She had asked him to give up his plans of vengeance before, and he had refused.
‘Alarr,’ she began, choosing her words with care, ‘is there anything that would satisfy your need for vengeance that would allow my foster father to live?’
He leaned back against the furs, staring at the sky. ‘No.’
She had expected this, but she was prepared to argue with him. ‘Killing Feann won’t bring your father back.’
He rolled to his side to face her. ‘This isn’t only about Sigurd. It’s about me.’
Breanne came to kneel beside him. ‘What is it?’
He sat up then and touched his legs. ‘Feann took away more than my father’s life. He took away the man I used to be.’
She sobered, but she wanted him to understand that he was not broken in her eyes. ‘That’s not true. Because of your actions, you protected me. Even when Oisin tried to take me.’ She reached out to touch his knees. ‘You are still a worthy fighter. You’ve overcome so much.’
Alarr captured her hands, holding them there. ‘I have no balance, and I cannot run very far. When it rains, I feel the pain aching deep within. These are wounds that will never heal.’
She understood, then, why he believed he had to die in this battle. He did not believe he was a man of worth any more. His vengeance was not about hurting Feann—it was about ending his own pain of loss.
She leaned in closer and touched her forehead to his. ‘Your wounds are not here, Alarr.’ She lifted her hands from his legs and moved them to his heart. ‘Your wounds are here.’
His face was a breath away from hers, and inwardly, she was trembling. His blue eyes were searing, his hunger burning within them. May the gods forgive her, she wanted him to touch her —even though she knew he would not stay.
She closed her eyes, trying to gather what little control she had. Beneath her palms, his skin was warm, but she did not pull her hands back.
‘You are still a man of strength,’ she whispered. ‘He didn’t take that from you.’
‘He took away everything that mattered,’ he said softly.
Her heart bled for him, for the losses he’d endured, and the dark frustration that shadowed his heart. And despite everything, she wanted him to live. Even if they could not be together, she wanted him to put the past behind him.
‘He didn’t take away everything,’ she whispered. ‘There are many who care about you.’
Alarr drew his hands around her waist and lay back on the furs, pulling her body atop his. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal between her thighs, and it caused her body to ache. Beneath her gown, her breasts tightened, and it was difficult to catch her breath.
‘What do you want from me, Breanne?’ His voice was hoarse, as if he had no control remaining. The tension stretched between them, and her heartbeat quickened as she sat astride him.
The silence that fell between them was a chasm of unspoken words. He tightened his hold upon her body, and another flicker of heat licked at her skin. She hardly knew how to answer. At last, she said, ‘I want you to let him live.’
Before he could refuse, she touched her fingertips to his mouth. ‘I don’t expect you to let go of your hatred or anger. But I am asking that you do this for my sake.’
He stared at her as if she had asked too much of him. Already she could see the refusal in his eyes. But this was about more than abandoning his vengeance. She didn’t want him to die.
At this moment, she could not put a name to her feelings for Alarr, for they were tangled up in invisible knots. She knew he was wrong for her, an enemy. She knew he would leave. And yet, when she was in his arms, she felt alive. He had been both her warrior and her rescuer—a man who tempted her in ways she didn’t understand.
But more than that, she wanted to close up Alarr’s invisible wounds and make him see that he was more than a fighter. He was a man who deserved a new beginning.
Despite all the reasons why this was wrong...she could not suppress the longing that rose within her. And if she made Alarr believe that there was another way to avoid bloodshed, she could save them both.
‘If you let Feann live, I will give you whatever you want.’ Her voice was breathless, but she kept her gaze fixed upon him. Slowly, Breanne reached for the laces of her gown and loosened them. She knew it sounded as if she were making the ultimate sacrifice. But the truth was, she wanted Alarr badly. She hadn’t lied when she had called him a man of strength. He had shielded her all these weeks, keeping her safe.
Alarr said nothing but distracted her by drawing his hand down the curve of her spine. He moved beneath her, and a shiver of anticipation slid over her. Her breath hitched, and she reached for his shoulders. He pressed against the juncture of her thighs, and a surge of desire prickled within. She grew wet between her legs, wanting something she could not understand.
‘Feann must face justice for what he did.’ His voice was like iron, rigid and unyielding.
Breanne drew her hands to his chest. ‘I agree that he must atone for the attack. But grant me his life, I beg you.’
She leaned in and kissed him, hoping she could change his mind. Her action seemed to ignite his desire, and Alarr answered the kiss, devouring her with his mouth. His tongue slid inside, and she felt an answering ache between her legs. Her breathing grew rough, and she gripped his hair, meeting his needs with her own.
‘He isn’t worth your innocence, Breanne. Save that for a man worthier than me.’
She understood then, that he was granting her the choice. He wanted her, but he would not claim her body unless she gave her full consent. She could stop her actions now, and he would let her be. But she could not deny that his caress tempted her, making her want to be loved.
There was a strong chance that he would not agree to this bargain. But she didn’t want to stand back without fighting for the lives of the men she cared about. ‘You are a man of worth, Alarr.’
He lifted his hand to her face. ‘When you left with those men, all I could think of was bringing you back.’ He brought her palm to his heart, resting it there. ‘I want more than your innocence, Breanne.’
She didn’t understand what he meant. When she studied his face, she saw the man who had come for her, time and again. Alarr had been hardened by battle and the need for revenge. Yet, within him, she saw the same shadow of loneliness. He had lost everything—his father, his bride, and even his strength in battle.
His blue eyes burned into hers. ‘If you give yourself to
me, I will not let you go. Once you make this choice, we will be bound together by the gods.’
Her emotions softened when she realised what he was offering. This was not a man who was forcing her to bargain her virtue for Feann’s life. It was much more than that. ‘You want me to stay with you.’
‘Of your own free will,’ he said.
Her heart quaked at the thought, for she was afraid to ask for how long. He might intend for her to be his concubine...or perhaps his wife. She had never expected this, and it unsettled her. What was his purpose? Why would he ask her to stay?
It went against everything she had believed about him—that he would take what he wanted and then leave. Instead, he was reaching out to her, wanting her to remain with him. Never had she imagined this, and her defences came crashing down.
Of all the people in her life, Alarr was the only man she had come to depend on. He had never forsaken her, and that meant something. He was a man who had endured as much loss as she had. And perhaps they could fill the emptiness in one another.
‘If I agree,’ she said quietly, ‘will you let him live?’
His expression never faltered, and he gave a single nod. Breanne studied him, trying to discern if he was telling her the truth.
In answer, she leaned in to kiss him again. Alarr claimed her mouth relentlessly, letting her know without a doubt how much he wanted her.
With shaking fingers, Breanne lowered her bodice, never taking her eyes from his. Then she took his palm and laid it upon her bare breast.
The scalding heat of his palm aroused her, and Alarr stroked her breast, lightly grazing the hardened nub. A bolt of heat made her moan, and he deepened the pleasure when he lowered his mouth to her nipple. Gently, he suckled the tip, his tongue driving her wild. She arched, unable to stop the surge of pleasure that filled her.
Against her skin, he murmured. ‘You belong to me now, Breanne.’
She gripped his hair, his touch arousing her deeply. Then she added, ‘And you belong to me.’ To emphasise her words, she reached out to unfasten his tunic.
He helped her, stripping it away before he drew his lips back to hers. Against her mouth, he said, ‘From now on, you will spend every night in my bed.’
With his hands, he drew back the edges of her gown, exposing her naked body. She felt the heat of the fire against her skin and the fur beneath her body. Alarr removed the rest of his clothing and then pressed her back. ‘I hated watching you leave with those men,’ he said, trapping her wrists upon the furs. ‘I didn’t trust them to guard you.’
He lowered his mouth to her other breast, giving it the same attention as the first. She shuddered against him, threading her fingers through his hair. His touch was possessive, and it evoked a fiery pleasure she had never imagined. It was as if the years of loneliness had gathered up within him, and he needed her to fill the void inside.
Breanne framed his face with her hands. His blue eyes stared into hers, and she kissed him again. ‘You always kept me safe.’ She drew her hands down his muscled torso, feeling the rock-hard muscles beneath her palms. There was no trace of fat upon him, and his abdomen had several ridges. When her fingertips brushed against his ribs, he jolted with a slight laugh.
‘You’re ticklish,’ she accused, and he did not deny it. Instead, he drew her hand lower, until her palm brushed against his large arousal. For a moment, her apprehension returned, and she closed her eyes. Alarr guided her to his manhood, and demanded, ‘Touch me, Breanne.’
She curled her fingers around his shaft, understanding that he meant to empower her. Tentatively, she stroked him, and he hissed.
‘Did I hurt you?’
‘No.’ He showed her how to touch him, and she felt his erection grow harder against her palm as she stroked. She marvelled at the sense of power that rose up and the heady pleasure of caressing him.
Alarr drew his hand between her thighs, and she grew embarrassed by her wetness. He seemed pleased, however. ‘Do not be shy, Breanne. Your body knows what it wants. And I intend to learn what you need.’
He began rubbing gentle circles against her intimate opening. A shock of sensation flooded through her, and she gasped when he slipped a finger inside. In answer, she stroked his length, finding what made him groan with arousal. ‘Don’t stop what you are doing, søtnos.’ He drew her hand higher, and she felt the answering bead of moisture at his tip.
Slowly, he began to penetrate her with his finger in slow strokes while his thumb moved in light circles. The motion wound her up tightly, and she found herself squeezing him, evoking a stronger sensation. He added another finger, stretching her and making her crave more. As the feelings rose up within, gathering into a fist of desire, he lowered his mouth to her stomach. He kissed her skin, parting her thighs and raising her knees. She did not know what he was planning to do, until she felt his warm breath against her intimate opening.
‘Alarr?’ she questioned, gripping the furs. Her skin was unbearably sensitive, and when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, she could not stop the cry mingled with a gasp. He was tormenting her, forcing her higher until she was sobbing. Over and over, he stroked her with his tongue, until she felt herself slipping over the edge. A shimmering eruption of release flooded through her, and she trembled hard as the pleasure claimed her.
Only then did he rise up, sliding the edge of his erection to her wet opening. She was still so overcome by the shocking sensations that she was barely aware of him entering her body. There was a slight discomfort as he breached her innocence, and then she welcomed the invasion that brought him deep inside. She tried to move against him, but he imprisoned her wrists again.
‘Slowly, søtnos.’ Alarr ground against her, and she quaked as an aftershock flooded through her.
He took her lips, kissing her as he began to thrust. She felt uncertain at first and a little sore. But gradually she found herself meeting him, lifting her hips as he caressed her deep within.
She arched her back, trying to get closer. Her breathing was hitched, but he kept his lovemaking slow, coaxing her passion higher. When she thought she could bear it no longer, he slid in deep and held himself there, gently stroking her hooded flesh. A shocking coil of desire struck hard, and she moaned as his caress evoked a powerful release that filled every inch of her body.
Her heart pounded, and she gripped the furs, trembling violently with the storm of pleasure. Breanne wrapped her legs around his waist, and he quickened the tempo, gripping her hips as he entered and withdrew. His breathing was harsh, and when she squeezed him with her inner walls, he lost control. Over and over, he took her, until she climaxed again, and he emptied himself inside. His breathing was laboured as he rode out his own release, and he collapsed on top of her.
She held him close, their bodies damp with perspiration. Never had any man made her feel this way. Her heart was thundering, her body alive in ways she’d never imagined. While he slept against her, she pushed back his hair, memorising the lines of his face. He would not let her go now, and she found that she wanted to be with him, whatever came next. Her feelings were vulnerable, and though she was wary of loving this man, she could not stop the emotions from gathering inside.
And as he drifted off to sleep, their bodies still joined, she prayed that she had made the right decision to stay with him.
Chapter Seven
Alarr made love to her twice more as the morning waned into afternoon. Though his conscience warned that he should not have taken advantage of her offer, he could not bring himself to hold regrets. The craving for her touch consumed him, and the knowledge that he was the only man who had ever claimed her body made him feel even more protective of Breanne.
She held an inner strength and bravery that he admired. But more than that, she had insisted that he was a man of worth. He didn’t really believe her, but she had forced him to consider a decision beyond his thoughts of vengeance.
It was still likely that he would die in battle, even if he did keep this vow. And for that reason, he had agreed to Breanne’s bargain.
Alarr knew his fate, but before he breathed his last, he wanted to spend his remaining days with her. He wanted her bare skin next to his, just as it was now. And every time he pleasured her, he wanted to watch her tremble with release, welcoming his body inside hers. It was as close to a true marriage as he would ever have. And if somehow she conceived a child, a part of him would live on.
A hollow ache centred inside him at the knowledge that he would not share that with her. All he had were these last few days, and he wanted to savour them, searing them into his memory. He kept their bodies intertwined, feeling content as he had never been before. She was awake, but neither spoke. It was as if words would break the spell between them, bringing reality back. And he didn’t want that—not yet.
But soon enough, Breanne’s stomach growled, and at her soft laugh, he realised he could not keep her here for the rest of the day, much as he wanted to.
‘Do we have anything to eat?’ she asked, tracing his bare skin.
‘I know what I want,’ he answered, rolling her to her back and taking her breast into his mouth. He was rewarded with her slight gasp, before she sighed and moved her hips against him.
‘Much as I love having you in my bed, we do need food.’
‘Do we?’ He reached to touch her and found that she was as aroused as he. Giving in to his desire, he slid inside her welcoming depths.
Breanne’s swift intake of breath told him that she wanted him, too. He entered and withdrew slowly, and she raised her knees to take him deeper.
‘When we approach Dún Bolg, we will tell them that you are my wife. It’s safer to stay together.’ But it was about more than protecting her—it was because he wanted no man to even look at Breanne. She was his for these last few days, and he needed her with him.
‘I agree.’ She pulled his face closer and kissed him. He took her mouth, kissing her deeply as he continued to make love to her. Breanne met his thrusts, digging her fingers into his shoulders until she wrapped her legs around his waist, demanding more.
Stolen By The Viking (Sons 0f Sigurd Series Book 1) Page 13
