But still he was not done with her. When she panted breathlessly and tried to close her legs to hide the oversensitized bud, Thork inserted a long, callused finger inside her body, then two. Her eyes widened with the shock of his entry, so quickly after the other orgasm. He didn’t give her time to protest. By the time his abrasive fingers had thrust in her three times, he could see by her glazed eyes and panting breaths that she was starting on another erotic journey. He held the fingers in place, letting her ride him, setting her own pace, meanwhile using his other hand to finger-flutter her bud once again. She bucked. She wailed. She begged him for satisfaction until her inner body convulsed over and over around his plummeting fingers.
She lay flat across the bed, arms and legs outspread, totally sated. “Oh, Thork,” was all she said in a softly wondrous voice.
Ruby’s uninhibited response to his touch inflamed Thork to the breaking point. “Oh, no, you do not rest yet,” he warned softly, pulling her back up with a laugh. “’Tis your turn, cat, to clean my plate.”
By the time she did just that, with greedy relish, Thork was the one moaning for release, especially when she ended with his rigid, honey-coated manhood. When he could stand no more, he pulled her under him. With one long, hard stroke, he entered her, filling her with his flesh. Her slick folds grasped him spasmodically. He closed his eyes on the pure perfection of the moment. Lord, her woman’s heat enveloped him like a warm glove.
He reared back and gazed at his wife. Wife! Thork marveled at the oddly wonderful-sounding word. Ruby’s face was dazed with mindless passion. Unfocused, her eyes begged him for release from this monumental, searing buildup of sexual arousal that had them both in its clutch. Never had he experienced anything like this fever of building tension.
“Ruby,” he entreated in a savage whisper.
“Now,” she answered shakily, trying to move her hips against his, but he was still buried deep, immobile in her.
“Come with me now, sweetling. Together,” he urged.
She nodded. The time for gentle loving had passed, and Thork pummeled her with long, hard strokes that caused explosions of red lights behind his eyes. Ruby was keening loudly, or was it him? On and on, he thrust into her until wild eruptions of exquisite pleasure rocked him, careening into Ruby’s body, then ricocheting back through his manhood.
They lay panting, side by side, for a long time afterward. Thork felt as if he had died and come back to life. He hugged her close, unable to speak, not sure he could explain what had just happened if he tried. When he finally felt he could utter a word without sounding like a eunuch, Thork rubbed her shoulder in the crook of his arm and chuckled softly.
“Do you know what I love most about you, wife?”
“What?” she whispered, nibbling his neck.
“You make me laugh.”
Ruby punched him in the stomach. “That’s not a compliment.”
“Yea, ’tis, sweetling,” Thork said, holding his stomach in feigned injury. “’Tis a gift you give every time you make me smile.”
By the time morning arrived, Thork swore to himself, he would make her smile a time or two, as well. And he did.
The serving women who brought a tub and fresh water the next morning were aghast when they saw the bed linens.
“I spilled a pot of honey on the bed,” Ruby explained with a blood-red face.
One elderly thrall darted a wry glance her way. “Oh? And what bee spilled it in yer hair and on yer toenails?”
Thork laughed heartily from the chair in the corner where he sat with legs outstretched, wearing only a pair of braies, waiting for his bath.
The woman cast a disgusted look his way. “And you, young master, I suppose those red marks all over yer body are bee stings.”
It was Ruby’s turn to laugh.
When they were both dressed, much later, Thork handed Ruby his two dragon brooches. “I did not have time to purchase you a morgen-gifu. Will you accept these for your morning gift?”
Ruby arched a brow in question.
“’Tis a custom for a husband to gift his bride with some special token the morning after the first bedding to show his pleasure. In fact, the marriage is not considered valid in some places until the morgen-gifu is given.”
“Really?” Ruby asked, looping her arms around his neck and giving him a quick kiss of thanks. “And were you pleased?”
“How can you doubt it?” he growled into her ear.
By the time they arrived down in the hall, the servant grapevine had carried the story. Hrolf and Dar laughed rudely in their faces, and all day he and Ruby were subjected to wide speculation on exactly what they did with the honey. Some said it was even on the floor and walls, which was, of course, ridiculous.
For two days, they basked in their newfound love, spending long hours in bed, walking or riding through Hrolf’s lands, planning their future together.
On the afternoon of the second day, Thork told her, “I must return to Jomsborg for a while. I have a commitment to fulfill.” Ruby turned sad eyes on him, and for the first time ever Thork wished he was not pledged to the Jomsvikings.
“Will you quit then?” she asked hopefully.
“Yea, I will, but not until my duty is completed.”
“How long?”
He shrugged uncertainly. “I know not. I promise it will be as soon as possible.”
“Then where will we live? What will you do?”
“Trading is what I do best,” he said tentatively, “but where we settle will be determined by safety.” Thork’s first choice would be to stay on his grandfather’s lands, but chances were Eric would hound him there. In truth, to him it really did not matter where he lived, as long as Ruby and the boys were with him.
Thork hugged Ruby closely to his side as they sat down under a tree on a carpet of new-fallen leaves, and Ruby told him of the first time she and Jack had made love in such a crisp bed. Thork nuzzled her neck, trying to halt her words, not wanting to hear of her love for another man, even if he only existed in her mind.
“Then we shall make love here, sweetling. I will erase the old memories for you.”
Ruby said nothing, but he could see the pain in her eyes. She would never forget this Jack, the imaginary husband. Before she surrendered to his imploring hands, Ruby asked sweetly, “Do you think I could start up a small lingerie business? You could sell the sets on your trading voyages.”
Lord, the witch had a habit of asking irrelevant questions at the most inopportune times. Thork’s chest shook with suppressed laughter.
“What? Why are you laughing at me?” Ruby asked, shoving him in the chest.
“I cannot believe you want me to become a trader in women’s undergarments. Next it will be condoms.”
Affronted, Ruby asked, “Don’t you think there would be a market for lingerie? And, no, I wouldn’t sell condoms.”
“You are serious, are you not?”
“Sewing and making lingerie is what I do best,” Ruby explained. “You have already said you don’t want more children. What would I do all day? Besides, if you’re too embarrassed to sell women’s underthings, I could come with you and do the trading.”
Now that was a thought to boggle the mind. Ruby on his trading voyages! Thor’s balls! He would accomplish naught but making love until his staff wore itself out from overuse. He smiled down at his enticing wife. Ruby’s tunic and chemise hung off one shoulder from his persistent efforts. He reached out a hand and touched the creamy skin.
“Well?” Ruby persisted.
Huskily, he agreed, “If ’tis what you want, wench, I will let you put some women’s lingerie among my trading goods.” Lord, he probably would have agreed to lace his boots at that point.
Then the crunch of autumn leaves under their nude bodies and whispered love words wiped out all thought of business.
Later, back in their chamber where they laughingly picked crumbled leaves from some very intimate places on each other’s bodies, Thork began to have se
cond thoughts. Ruby talked excitedly about plans for her lingerie business. And she wasn’t talking about a few sets of undergarments sewn together in her spare time. She spoke of a separate building for cutting and producing the lingerie, hiring a half dozen women to help her, then expanding later. Thor’s blood! She would fill a ship with her lingerie alone.
“Ruby, this is not what I had in mind when I agreed to trade some of your lingerie products,” Thork said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I enjoy being married to you. It pleases me immensely to imagine you waiting for me in our own home each night when I return from my business dealings or when I arrive home after a voyage. I picture Eirik and Tykir at your side. My heart fills at the thought. How would you have time for all those things if you were busy running your own business affairs?”
Thork expected Ruby to be pleased with the soft words he had taken such pains to form. Instead, she lashed out, “You male chauvinist pig! I can’t believe this! It’s Jack all over again!”
“Jack, Jack, Jack! I am sick of the man’s name.”
Ruby glared at him and ran from the room.
Thork did not understand. Most women would be pleased that a man cherished them so well that they would not have to drudge. He decided to seek his grandfather’s advice, but that was not necessary. Dar rushed toward him, telling him, “Come quickly.” He pulled Thork into a private chamber.
Dar was extremely agitated, and he clutched a small parcel in his hand tightly. His fingers shook.
“What is it?” Thork asked, worried by the intensity of his grandfather’s fear.
“’Tis Ivar!” he choked out. “He kidnapped Eirik and asks for ransom.” He handed Thork the linen-wrapped package. “Oh, Thork, I would spare you this pain if I could.”
Thork’s heart hammered loudly as he unrolled the cloth. A small finger fell out. A thousand explosions went off in his head, and he had to hold on to a chair for support. Closing his eyes tightly on the pain, he whispered, “Do not tell Ruby. It would kill her. Whatever you do, she must not know.”
Ruby was in an absolute rage. It wasn’t so much the lingerie business. Even though she’d stormed away from Thork, she was sure they could work all that out somehow, but now Thork came to their chamber and told her coldly that he was going to Jomsborg immediately, that he’d been summoned for some mission. Worst of all, he wouldn’t take her with him. She must go back to Northumbria with Dar.
“No! I want to go with you,” she cried, while Thork hastily threw his clothing and personal belongings in his leather bag. “Please,” she begged, seeing the unbending look on Thork’s face. “I’m sorry I argued about the lingerie company. Don’t leave me, not now. I can’t bear it again.”
Thork turned and took her by both shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. They were a cold, desolate blue which frightened Ruby.
“I love you, sweetling. Remember that. Always.”
He kissed her with an odd desperation and held her tightly for a long moment. When he pulled back, he scrutinized her face, as if memorizing its features. And Ruby could swear she saw tears in his harsh, warrior’s eyes. What was happening here? And why so quickly?
“Go with Dar back to Northumbria,” he told her implacably. “Wait for me there with Tykir.” He choked on the last words.
Then he really frightened her when he added, “And, Ruby, something else. Pray for…me.”
On those ominous words, he left her standing open-mouthed in their chamber. Once she realized he was actually going, Ruby ran after him, down the steps and out to the bailey. He and several dozen men sat on horses talking to Hrolf while half of the armed men they’d brought with them were heading toward the ships.
“I will dispatch two hundred men as soon as you send word of your whereabouts,” Hrolf promised. “May God and Odin go with you.”
Thork turned to Dar. “You will return to Northumbria immediately?” At his nod, Thork went on, “’Tis unwise to leave your lands so unprotected. I will send word as soon as possible. Godspeed, Grandfather.”
Thork saw her then, standing in the background with tears streaming down her face, reeling under the shock of disbelief that he was abandoning her. A muscle flickered beside the thin line of his tight lips as he maneuvered his horse through the people toward her. He leaned down and lithely pulled her up in front of him on the saddle.
“We will meet again, sweetling. I love you.”
I love you, too, Thork, Ruby thought, but the words clogged in her throat as he kissed her briefly, then set her down and rode off.
Hrolf and Poppa looked on her with pity, but would disclose nothing when she hugged them tightly before boarding one of Dar’s three ships the next day. They told her she would always be welcome in Normandy.
The two-week trip back to Jorvik was horrible. Ruby lay on her back most of the time, racked with seasickness in the troubled waters. Despite her protests and wild weeping, Dar’s hard face turned away from her when she demanded explanations for Thork’s hasty actions. Back in Northumbria finally, she fell into Aud’s welcoming arms on a sob and kissed Tykir until he pulled away in childlike embarrassment.
For weeks, Ruby alternately pitied herself and raged at Thork for his actions, meanwhile waiting desolately for word from him. When it finally came, the message was for Dar, not her. Dar closeted himself in a chamber with Olaf, who’d delivered the missive. When Olaf left, he took one hundred men with him, leaving Dar with only a hundred to guard his keep. Still, Dar wouldn’t answer her questions about Thork’s whereabouts.
“He will let you know when the time is right.”
Finally Ruby buried herself in work. She talked Dar into giving her one of the wool sheds for her lingerie business. Enlisting the help of six village women, Ruby was aided by Ella, who turned out to be a born administrator, bullying the women into extra work, making them laugh while they did it. They cut the bolts of silk and laces brought to them by Aud, who insisted on being a partner in the enterprise.
Within weeks, the business was a resounding success. Making the lingerie in all sizes, Ruby sent her first fifty sets into Jorvik one day with Dar. He delivered them to a merchant who agreed to sell them on consignment. They sold out in two days, thus launching Ruby’s lingerie company.
Ruby purchased extra materials with the profits, hired six more women, and built a large hearth so they could work during the winter months.
Ella turned into a blooming entrepreneur, planning how much money she could save over what period of time, how she could buy her freedom and perhaps get a small house in the village. Her dreams transformed her into a new person.
“’Tis amazing!” Aud said as they sat down to dinner one night. “At first, I only gave you the fabrics and encouraged your work to ease your mind over Thork. Now it appears I will be a wealthy merchant. What think you of that, Dar?”
“Huh? Oh, yea,” he answered distractedly. There had been no word from Thork since that first message, and he worried constantly.
Ruby was torn between anger over Dar and Aud cutting her off from their great mystery and concern for whatever was troubling them. She thought she had a way to make them feel better. “Dar, Aud, I have some news that should make you happy.”
They both looked at her as if nothing could cheer them up, and Ruby wondered once again what they hid from her.
She smiled at them both and disclosed softly, “I’m pregnant!”
A stunned silence greeted her words.
Their failure to respond hurt Ruby. “What? You’re not pleased to have a new baby here?”
“Oh, nay, ’tis not so!” Aud declared and jumped up belatedly. She hugged Ruby warmly.
“Yea, ’twill be wonderful to have…another great-grandchild,” Dar choked out and left the hall abruptly.
Puzzled, Ruby turned to Aud.
“Do not mind him. He has much to think on these days. But what about Thork? I thought he did not want more children.”
“He doesn’
t. I’m not sure how it happened. He was always so cautious,” Ruby said, trying to think when he might have been careless. Was it their wedding night, with the honey, or was it the day in the autumn leaves? She hoped it was the latter. Then it would seem almost like Jack’s child, too.
“I’m sure Thork will be pleased once he gets used to the idea,” Ruby went on. “I hope it’s a girl, with blond hair and blue eyes.”
Despite Ruby’s happiness over her pregnancy, she worried about Dar, who was growing increasingly morose. Several days later, Ruby went looking for him to force an explanation. He wasn’t in the chamber where he worked on manor business. She was about to leave and look in the stables when she noticed a small, linen-wrapped package lying on a piece of parchment.
Ruby had seen Thork clutching such a parcel the day he left her in Normandy. Ruby’s ears began to buzz and her pulse raced wildly as she walked woodenly toward it, sensing somehow that all her questions were about to be answered. Slowly she unwrapped the layers.
Gagging, Ruby stared at the small finger, its skin dried up and beginning to deteriorate. She rocked from side to side in shock, a keening wail beginning low in her throat.
Why would anyone save such a morbid thing? Could it be Thork’s finger that his brother Eric had cut off years ago? No, that would be bare bone by now. This was more recent.
Ruby’s keening grew louder and the ringing in her ears reached deafening proportions as she continued to rock back and forth. She reached shakily for the stiff parchment and read the horrifying words:
Grandfather,
Ivar still holds Eirik. He will not release him, even for the ransom demanded, even in exchange for me. Damn his evil soul! He wants Sigtrygg’s head. We go to battle tomorrow. Pray for us.
Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 01] Page 36
