Desired By The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 2)

by Veronica Wilson

  “Damn you, Dagmar,” Aila said, diving into the hot water as Dagmar stepped into its warmth. When she surfaced she didn’t see him anywhere in the water, nor could she tell where he’d gone until she felt his large hands on her ankles and went under fast. When she surfaced she heard Dagmar’s laughter ringing out. Aila barely caught a glimpse of him through her thick lashes before his mouth claimed hers. He was still laughing and her solid punch to his midsection stole his breath.

  “I don’t think so, love,” Dagmar chuckled again. His strong arm snaked around her waist, dragging her against the hard muscles of his well-made body. His lips nuzzled her neck, laughing as he felt the electrical shock run down his body. Aila found herself breathless as his touch tightened her nipples and made her ache in a way only this man could. “Let me have you. You’re consuming me every other way. Why shouldn’t we give in and enjoy it?”

  She wanted to, wanted to let go. Still, it nagged at her, the fact that he’d only come after her when he’d been ready. When would her wants be answered? Could she really trust that Dagmar would care for her fully, not to mention any children they might make together. Automatically her hand went to her womb. The wonderment of possibly being with child brought a sense of awe to her, swamping her with a fierce love she’d never felt before. It spoke easily, almost reverently of the love she already felt for the man who seemed to want her.

  “I don’t trust you, Dagmar,” Aila finally whispered.

  “Then let me prove myself. I deserve that much.”

  Turning in his arms, she rested her hands on his toned biceps and smiled at the boyish look on his face. No one knew him like she did. They’d spent months on the North Sea together, sharing everything from their seasickness to their joy over seeing land. Dagmar had been her absolute best friend and she his. Could that really lead to a solid union that had a more solid foundation than simple sex? Even if the sex was mind-altering?

  “Alright.” Aila smiled. “I’ll let you prove yourself. Starting tomorrow, you won’t bring another woman to your tent. You won’t look at another woman in hopes of bedding her. If you really want to prove to me that you can love me wholly, then love only me.”

  “Deal,” Dagmar smiled. “But why start tomorrow? Why can’t I just start now?”

  “Because tonight, you’re already loving me.” Aila grinned. With a fuller knowledge of what it meant to be with him, Aila brought her mouth to his, sighing when he took her under.

  Dagmar tightened his grip on her, pressing her lean body against him. One large hand splayed out across her back and he fueled their need by cupping her tight breast with the other. He’d known plenty of women, but never one who gave almost constantly of herself. Aila’s body yearned in a way that only a woman in love would understand. He knew now how precious a gift she’d given him. A woman’s innocence was something to be treasured, a gift not to be taken lightly. He was ashamed he’d never seen it that way until now.

  Needing her, Dagmar ran his hot tongue over her flesh, tasting the salt that hadn’t washed away in the spring. Pleasure coursed through him when she moaned. He took her up slowly, sampling her breasts in slow, tender bites that had her gasping, her hips bucking against him. Her thighs locked around his waist and Dagmar realized that Aila would rule tonight, no matter what tomorrow brought them. Letting go, he let her lead. Her head fell back, sinking her thick, auburn hair into the water and inviting him to feast on her. His mouth came to her, suckling her flesh. Her nipples peaked as if offering themselves up to him. With a grin on his face, Dagmar took one between his lips, savoring the way her hips moved against him when he ran his tongue over her. He nipped her then, smiling broadly when she gasped half in arousal, half in shocked surprise.

  Looking up, Dagmar caught the look of love in her beautiful gray eyes. It swamped him then, that intensity of love she hadn’t quite talked about. He realized then that the way he felt about her wasn’t a burden, it was a gift. It was something they could share that would only be for the other. No one would touch the love they had for each other, because it was solely theirs.

  “Take me, Aila,” Dagmar whispered, a grin spreading over his lips. He pressed them to hers and felt the first stirrings of her arousal. Even in the warm water, Dagmar could feel the slippery wetness between her thighs. He met it with a small thrust and chuckled when Aila backed up. “Doesn’t take long for you to take charge, does it?”

  “No,” Aila grinned. Those gray eyes, eyes he’d looked to for advice and for consolation, eyes that had chastised and praised him. Those beautiful eyes met his dark, stormy blue ones and spoke what neither of them were ready to say. Then she took him into her, pressing hard against his throbbing cock. The blood rushed through Dagmar like a flood as he moved with her now. Each thrust beckoned him deeper, her wet pussy swelling. Her tight, warm snatch greeted him lovingly each time he pierced her, over and over again. Hungry for her release, Dagmar moved his lips over her flesh as their bodies joined in the most intimate way. Her breasts begged for his attention, and he was glad to oblige them as Aila moaned at his touch. Aching, Dagmar built himself up too fast. Trying to slow her down, he took her hips in his hands, but found that Aila had a mind of her own and so, apparently, did her body. He came hard, sheathing his pulsing cock deep in the warm welcome of her hot pussy.

  Looking up he saw Aila’s smiling eyes and grinned. He pressed an affectionate kiss to her brow before resting his against hers. “I’m supposed to wait for you, you know.”

  “I was in a giving mood.” She smiled. He let Aila move back, but not before he caught her hand.

  “So what do I do if I’m in a giving mood as well?” Dagmar grinned and pulled Aila closer. Letting love lead, he used his hands to excite her, kneading her breasts and running his palms over her body. When one hand slid between her thighs, he watched her eyes flutter closed on a sigh. He sank his fingers into her, filling her fully. He let his thumb tease her clit, creating a rhythm with his fingers that had her moaning. Dagmar found her irresistible, and his own need for her nearly insatiable. The more she moved with him, the more Dagmar wanted her, so much so that he pulled his fingers back and filled her to the brim, again, with his hard cock. Over and over again he took her, her hips bucking wildly as the surprise registered in her eyes. “Meet me this time, Aila,” he whispered.

  Aila, swamped by greedy love, rode the high arcing waves of bliss as her body gloried in a side of Dagmar she’d never expected. Her body, sated by his touch and attention, rose with her, pushing ever faster toward that rocky edge she’d tossed him off of earlier. Except this time, he wanted to take her with him. His mouth claimed hers again, his hot tongue sliding easily, happily against hers. He tasted the way he had last time, a musky flavor that spoke of courage, an unseen fragility and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a love he was just discovering. Knowing just how he felt, Aila reached around his back and slid her long fingered hands over his buttocks. Gripping him tight, Aila brought him back to her, matching his rhythm so that her body wrecked itself and tumbled over the edge of completion.

  “Dagmar!” she cried, buring her face in the strength of his shoulder.

  “Hold onto me, Aila,” she heard Dagmar say before he carried her from the water. It didn’t take long to start shivering in the frigid cold. But once she was dressed, Dagmar picked her up again.

  “Look!” she squealed, pointing up. The first snow fall of the winter and the Solstice season had started in earnest. Big, fat flakes fell from the sky, turning the once-green grass to a white landscape that spoke of rest and coming renewal.

  “It’s a welcome sight,” Dagmar agreed. By silent agreement they went to his tent and Aila bundled under the thick cowhide blankets he had laid out. “I never said it, Aila, but I’d like to say it now.”

  Aila took the cup of brew he offered and sipped, closing her eyes when the first taste hit her tongue. “Okay,” she said, and smiled. When his finger touched her chin she looked up into blue eyes that always seemed to remind her of dangerou
s adventure. Could he provide safety and security as well?”

  “I love you, Aila Dagny Forsberg,” Dagmar said. “I won’t ruin it by elaborating.”

  Aila giggled, feeling better than she had in a long, long time. For the first time, she thought that it might actually be possible to join her life to Dagmar’s and rule together. Not that she was ready to share that hope with him just yet. She had to trust him first.

  “I can’t believe Solstice is less than two weeks away,” Aila said, sitting her cup down. She patted the blankets next to her, her bright eyes expectant.

  “Anything special you want?”

  “Other than figuring out how to take care of our people? No.”

  “You really love them, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Aila said simply, moving over to make room for him. “Not in the same way I love you, but I have a deep and abiding affection for everyone who looks to me—us—to lead them.”

  “We can do this, Aila,” Dagmar said.

  “We’ll see,” was all she wanted to say about it. Snuggling next to Dagmar, Aila listened to the constant, steady beat of his heart. It soothed her, helping relax her body and even out her breathing. She fell asleep to that sound with a smile on her face.

  Chapter Three: Treasure

  Dagmar woke with a start, listening in the silence. As his eyes finally adjusted, he took stock of his home, noting most importantly that Aila still slept by his side. Looking down at her, he smiled. Her dark hair lay like a curtain against the tan color of his arm. Her thick lashes lay still against her cheeks and the sound of her even breathing told him she slept soundly. “Aila,” he whispered. “Wake up, love.”

  Her lashes fluttered open and Dagmar grinned at the sleepy look on her face. “Everything okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dagmar said. “I thought I heard some noises outside, but it could easily just be people moving—“ Dagmar’s voice was cut off by the shouting of men. Soon the shrieking of women joined in and Dagmar was up and out of his tent, his sword in hand. Fires blazed like ravaging beasts as women and children ran toward the back of the village. Dagmar noticed Aila join him, but couldn’t take his focus off the fires.

  “We need to move!” she yelled, the sound barely breaking through the blood that roared in his ears. Dagmar grabbed Aila’s hand and half-dragged her to the side of the village where the fence made a formidable barrier.

  “I agree, but we have to move smart. Whoever is attacking us has the advantage so far.”

  “There’s an exit, Dagmar,” Aila said, pointing to a splice in the fence. She moved over and showed him. He went through first, carrying his spear and letting Aila hold his bow and quiver of arrows. They worked their way through the woods and flanked the invading army. High up on a hill, Aila and Dagmar got their first good look at what they were facing. “We have to figure out how to drive them back. If we can close the gates—“

  “They’ll set them on fire and roast us alive.”

  “What about the exit? We can lead them out and up here. It’ll at least buy us some time.”

  “Alright, Aila,” Dagmar said, seeing the wisdom in her theory. “I’ll go first. We’ll head back in, gather our forces, and drive them back to close the gates. If they’re dumb enough to focus their efforts there, we’ll come from inside and flank them.”

  Aila worked to calm the women and children who now sat huddled in fear at the back of the village. “Listen. The men are going out first, to work on flanking the invading armada. We’re all going to follow very quietly. We want to help our men out by being extremely quiet, okay?” When even the smallest children nodded their heads, all Aila could do was pray to Thor that they’d all make it out of this alive. That’d be enough festive cheer for all of them.

  “Now, Aila,” Dagmar said. She opened the splice and helped the first women through before Dagmar grabbed her. The force of his kiss drove straight down to her toes and was so drenched in love that the other women stopped and stared. “Be careful.”

  “I love you,” she said before disappearing through the crack to guide the other women. Once they were settled, Aila tried to make them as comfortable as possible, even stopping to tell a group of children that there would be plenty of spoils to play with come Solstice time.

  “You seem happy,” Dragna said, when Aila stepped over to see how she was doing.

  “I am, I suppose.”

  “It’s a good look for you.” She smiled. “He’s a good man, Aila.”

  “I know. I’m just not sure he does. I love him. We’ll have to see if he loves me as much.”

  “I’d venture that he loves you just as much. It took him a while to come around to it, but anyone with eyes can see it now. It happened in his heart the first time you were together. For you it happened years ago, long before boys even know much about the difference between us and them.”

  “How did you know we—?“

  “I’m an old woman who’s been there plenty of times, sweetheart. Not to mention, it’s something that sort of shows.”

  “Does everyone know?” Aila was mortified just by the thought of the whole village knowing her personal business.

  “They might not have, but that scorching kiss he gave you sort of settled any estimations. I think the village is happy just knowing that the two people who could and should rule them seem to be dancing the same jig. You’ve got yourself a good man and no one would argue that you’re not an amazing woman. We’d all like to see you settle down and live a happy and full life together, ruling side by side. It’d be the best of Solstice offerings for all of Hail.”

  “With all of this going on, I’ll settle for having a village to go back to,” Aila said, not wanting her worry for Dagmar to show. When Dragna slid her warm and worn hand over hers, Aila bit her lip.

  “Have faith, honey. Your man’s been through worse and come out the other side looking pretty damn good. If I was sixty years younger I’d give you a run for your money on that man.” Aila laughed despite the tense set of her body.

  ***

  Dagmar met Breslin, Bregnan, and Svenbreck near the gates, as fires rages just outside. “I need you two, take half the men we have and distract them. Sven, you’re with me.”

  “We’ll give them a run for their spoils,” Breslin smirked. On the count of three, Breslin and Bregnan ran through the gates and into the fray.

  “Let’s go,” Dagmar said. He took the other half of their men, including Svenbreck and flanked their unsuspecting attackers. With a righteous yell Dagmar ran his sword through a sentry who stood guard, easily dispatching him. He saw arrows flying from the men whom he’d ordered to stay back from the front line. They took out several men, some even landing in their own fighters. He turned away from the archers in time to see a mammoth of a man bringing his sword down. Swinging up hard, he felt pain radiate straight to his shoulder as it popped from its socket. Grunting he beat the huge man back, slicing his sword across the enemies stomach. The man just kept coming at him, his sword arm intensely strong as Dagmar tried to defend himself with one nearly useless arm.

  His own hands slippery with sweat, Dagmar missed blocking the man’s sword and felt it slice a gash in his sword arm, searing pain straight to his brain. “Shit!” he yelled, anger infusing him with a healthy dose of adrenaline. Swinging like a well-trained madman, Dagmar swung and hacked his way into the enemy, criss-crossing him with gashes and slices until he got one good slice to the back of his knee. When the man fell, Dagmar finished him by beheading. Taking a breath, Dagmar looked up to see Breslin and Bregnan doing well, working together to beat back the horde that had come to take their village. “Keep some alive!” he shouted toward the twins. Rushing to help, Dagmar found a young man, barely old enough to wield a sword. Using his fist, he punched the kid hard across the bridge of his nose and watched the poor kid drop right in front of him.

  “Finish them off Bres!” Dagmar yelled. “I’ve got a prisoner!”

  Two hours later, Dagmar sat in the food
tent with the young boy, who now sported a severely broken nose. “Tell me who you are.” The boy just looked at him with dark eyes that held a mixture of hate and fear. “Look boy, I can make your life miserable to an extent that you can’t even imagine. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make sure you get back to whatever’s left of your people.”

  After the boy refused to talk, Dagmar sighed. With a sorrowful heart, he took the boys left thumb in his hand. Putting pressure on the joint, Dagmar felt the bones give way as the boy screamed in pain. Letting him calm down, Dagmar tried again. “Just tell me who you are, where you come from and I’ll let you go.”

  Met with a wall of silence, Dagmar broke another of the boy’s fingers. Two more sessions of broken fingers and the boy decided to talk. “I’m Dangur. I come from Dunkerie, across the river. My father, the ruler there, said that we could easily take your village and land. He doesn’t know that I’m here fighting.”

  “He’ll know when you go back from with a broken nose and four broken fingers. To your credit you have more guts and gall than some men I know. My healer will fix you up and we’ll see that you make it home safely.”

  Dagmar met Breslin and Bregnan outside the tent. “He finally talk?”

  “Yeah,” Dagmar sighed. “We need to go get our women and children. Then we’ll see about getting him back home.”

  “But we-“ Bregnan started.

  “We’ll deal with the rest later,” Dagmar said. “But right now, we need to let our women know that we’re okay and that Hail is safe again.”

  ***

  As dawn crept over the horizon Aila saw the men headed in their direction. When Dagmar topped the hill she ran to him, pressing her lips warmly to his as he caught her. He laughed when her lips kissed all over his face. “Easy, woman, I’m not dead.”

  “Thank the gods,” she said. “I’d be coming up to Valhalla to kick your arse meself.”

  “Well, I’m not planning on leaving that soon, nor that way. It was a wicked fight, but we drove them back. Got some nice plunder from the battle, too.”