Dark Warrior (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  “Nay.” Rolf shook his head adamantly. “She’s no harlot. I will not turn her into one.”

  “Rolf…” Nicholas looked at him, unable to keep the frustration from his eyes. “But where will you go? What will you do?”

  Rolf forced a smile. “I know not. I might take Edward up on his offer to sponsor me at Court. He has mentioned many times how merry I would find it there. Lots of beautiful women. Perhaps in time I might even be able to find one or two that could make me forget—” His smile faded and he shook his head, knowing in his heart that there was no woman on earth who could make him forget her. He would go to his grave loving Kathryn. No other woman would ever supplant her in his mind or his heart.

  Nicholas looked at his friend for a long moment. “You can just up and leave me—leave her—that easily?”

  “Nay, Nick.” A look of anguish twisted the Dane’s long, thin face. “Thinkst thou this is easy? Believe me, there’s naught easy about it. ’Tis ripping me apart inside. But, ’tis something I must do. Thou knowest it, and I know it. Prithee, do not make it any harder than it already is.”

  “But…Berwick is your home—” Nicholas began, only to be stopped by the pain in Rolf’s eyes. He put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “You’re my brother. I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I don’t want to leave, either. But I must.” Rolf covered Nicholas’s hand with his own. His regret was a throbbing ache deep in his soul. An ache he knew would never leave him. “I must,” he repeated softly before turning and starting to walk away.

  But instead of letting him go, Nicholas grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the solar. “Nay, Rolf, you do not get to make that choice. This matter involves all three of us, and the decision must be made by all three of us.”

  They entered to find Kathryn seated on a cushioned footstool in front of the fireplace. One of Nicholas’s many books lay open in her lap, but she’d forgotten it was even there. Her mind was much too agitated to concentrate on reading. Especially some dry-as-dust tome on ancient Roman generals. Mary was in the process of brushing through the shimmering cloud of Kathryn’s thick, lustrous hair, fanning it about her shoulders like strands of spun gold.

  The flickering firelight cast reflections in the golden mass, making it gleam and glow as if each hair were alive with sparkling faerie lights.

  At Nicholas’s and Rolf’s precipitous appearance, she jumped up, her hand at her throat. The book she’d been pretending to read fell to the floor with a thump. Lifting her head, she met Nicholas’s eyes. He was regarding her with an expression on his face that could only be described as… She didn’t know how to describe it. Then she met Rolf’s eyes and knew they had been found out.

  Frantically, she cast about in her mind for an explanation for the unexplainable—her feelings for Rolf. Feelings she had never sought, they had just…happened. Feelings she had fought…to no avail. Feelings she would have kept secret until death, but were now out in the open. Was she about to lose her beloved Nicholas because of these feelings? Would he cast her out? Would this untenable situation cost her everything—her dream? Her love? Her very soul?

  “He’s leaving,” Nicholas announced flatly. “Did you know about this?”

  She and Rolf looked at each other, faces shadowed with guilt, anguish clearly shining in both their eyes. “Prithee forgive me,” she said, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “I’ve cost you the love of your best friend.”

  He crossed to her, taking both her hands. “Nay, yndling, don’t say that. Never say that. I am not sorry for loving thee. I’m only sorry that I don’t have the right to love thee.”

  “Did you know he was leaving?” Nicholas asked Kathryn. His voice was remarkably calm.

  “I—” She looked at Nicholas, then back at Rolf, her face stricken. “You’re leaving? Because of me? Because of”—she waved her hand between them—“this?”

  He met her gaze squarely, the blue ocean of his eyes dark and roiling as if churned up by a gale. “Aye, min skat, I have no choice. I’ll be leaving as soon as this business with Walford is over.”

  She turned her gaze to Nicholas. “Did you ask him to leave?” she asked, trying to control her despair. “Is that why he’s going?”

  “Nay, beloved. I do not want him to go any more than you do.”

  Her gaze returned to Rolf. “So, why are you leaving?” she asked.

  Rolf simply lowered his eyes, saying naught.

  “He’s leaving because his sense of honor tells him he must. He thinks he’s being noble. He’s in love with you,” Nicholas said softly. It wasn’t an accusation. It was merely a statement of fact.

  “I know,” she said, her voice barely audible. Her eyes never left Rolf’s face. “He told me.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” She turned to meet Nicholas’s black gaze, her hand still in Rolf’s. “I begged him to stay. I told him that I didn’t want him to leave because of me. I did not want to come between you and your best friend. The brother of your heart. Your relationship is precious and I did not want to be responsible for its destruction.”

  “Naught could ever destroy my love for Rolf. Nor my love for you. Is that the only reason you wanted him to stay?”

  Swallowing hard, she lowered her gaze. Blessed Virgin! Here it was. The moment of truth. The moment she had been dreading. The spilling of the secret she had sworn to carry with her to the grave. But she couldn’t lie to Nicholas. She loved him too much to attempt to deceive him. “Nay, my love. ’Tis not the only reason.”

  “Yndling—” Rolf put up his free hand as if to stop her next words. But she shook her head, tears stinging behind her eyelids. She looked straight into Nicholas’s cool gray eyes.

  “I wanted him to stay because I—I have feelings for him also. I knew it the minute I saw him, just as I knew the minute I saw you. Because he, too, was in my dreams, watching from the shadows, waiting…” Unable to explain, she just shook her head. Nicholas drew in a breath to speak, but she held up her hand and added quickly, “Nay, my love, let me finish. Hear me out, please.” She faced him bravely, her tears finally spilling over and streaming down her cheeks. “I love you, Nicholas. With everything I have. Everything I am. You saved my life and you healed my soul. And I will love you until the day I die.

  “But there’s a part of me that also loves Rolf. I know not why. I know not how. I cannot explain it. And I don’t seem to be able to stop it.” She was sobbing. “I love you so much, but I love Rolf, too, and I feel like I’m betraying you.” She wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. “And I can’t help it.” She ended on a wail of despair, her sobs overwhelming her. She was crying uncontrollably, tears pouring down her cheeks.

  Nicholas moved to her. Rolf stepped aside as his liege lord pulled her into the shelter of his powerful arms, holding her head gently against his chest with one large hand. “’Tis all right, beloved,” he said soothingly. “I suspected you had feelings for Rolf. In fact, I had hoped as much.”

  Nearly blinded by her tears, she sniffled and drew her head back so she could read the expression on his face. He had hoped she had feelings for his best friend? What was he saying? Was this a jest? She stared at him, her confusion apparent in her face. She had expected…what? Anger? Disappointment? Jealousy?

  Actually, she didn’t know what she had expected. But, whatever it was, it certainly hadn’t been this! “You…hoped?” Her voice shook. “You want me to lo—have feelings for Rolf?” She was shivering so hard she had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering.

  Nicholas was unable to contain his smile. “Aye, beloved. Don’t you see? ’Tis perfect. The two people I love most in the world also love each other. What could be better? Or more natural?”

  “Nick—” Rolf’s tone was a warning.

  “’Tis perfect, Rolf.”

  “Nay, Nick. Not this time. Not with her.”

  “Especially with her.”

  “What?” Kathryn asked, bewildered, looking fro
m one beloved face to the other. “You want us to love each other? I don’t understand, Nicholas. What’s going on here? What are you talking about?” She could hardly speak for the shivers wracking her body.

  Rolf’s expression was one of anger. For his part, Nicholas looked almost sheepish. “We…uh, that is, Rolf and I—well, we have been known, in the past, to share our women.”

  Completely mystified, she shook her head. “What does that mean? ‘Share your women’?”

  “It means we both have sex with the same woman at the same time,” Nicholas explained. “’Tis so much more pleasurable for the woman when two men are…stimulating her…simultaneously.”

  “It means,” Rolf said coldly, “that we used women for our own pleasure. Women who were willing. Women we cared naught about. Women who were naught more to us than holes to fuck,” he finished crudely. “There for us to enjoy and then discard when we were done.”

  “Not exactly how I would have phrased it,” Nicholas said, glowering at Rolf. “But true enough, in a manner of speaking. Which is why this is so much more important. So much better.”

  “She’s thy wife, Nick—or will be in just two days. She’s thine! She belongs to thee. She’s not some harlot for the two of us to tumble for our own amusement.”

  “She’s someone we both love,” Nicholas said, struggling for patience. This was not going nearly as well as it had inside his head during the wee hours of the morning. “And what better way to show her just how much we love her, than by allowing her to love both of us in return? To have both of us? Freely. Without guilt. We would be here for her pleasure.”

  Rolf shook his bald head, turning to leave. “I won’t do it, Nick. I won’t let her do it.”

  “Rolf—” Nicholas followed after him.

  “Forget it. I’ll not do it.”

  “Rolf, please. Just hear me out, that’s all I want.”

  “What about what I want?” The soft, quiet voice stopped them both dead in their tracks. They turned to look at her, staring at her as if she had suddenly grown another head.

  “Has either of you thought to ask me what I want?” she asked quietly.

  Hardly daring to hope, Nicholas took a tentative step back toward her. “What do you want, beloved?” he asked. Rolf merely looked at her, his expression mutinous.

  “I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want Rolf to leave. I don’t want him to feel guilty about loving me. And I don’t want to feel guilty for loving two men.” Distress tightened her voice. “I want both of you.”

  She heard herself saying the words. Words that were so foreign to everything she had ever even considered saying, she couldn’t believe they had actually come out of her mouth. Words she could never take back. Words that would irretrievably alter all of their lives.

  Was this truly what she wanted? She drew a shaky breath. They were both staring at her, waiting for her to continue. The entire room was holding its breath. She was about to go against the law, the Church, indeed, everything she had ever been taught.

  “’Tis the only thing that makes sense for all of us,” she said slowly. “But it would have to be a true sharing.”

  She looked back and forth between them. “You speak about the two of you sharing me. But I will also be sharing you. Both together and separately.” She looked at Nicholas. “I just need for you to understand that the love I feel for Rolf in no way diminishes the love I feel for you. I have enough for both of you.”

  The radiance in her husband’s smile twisted her insides into a knot. “I realize that, beloved. That’s why I decided to propose this…arrangement. ’Twas the only way I could think of to keep both of you, and to allow you the freedom to explore your feelings for each other.”

  “Will you become jealous if you see me making love with Rolf?” she asked him.

  He spread his hands, tilting his head with a wicked grin. “Only if you don’t allow me to join you.” He paused, his eyes darkening before adding softly, “or watch you.”

  Blessed Mary! Her eyes closed at the erotic image that sprang into her mind with those words. Biting her lower lip, she turned to Rolf. “And what about you, sir knight? Think you we’re just doing this out of pity?”

  When he didn’t respond, she walked right up and stood toe-to-toe with him, hands on her hips. “Well, if that is what you think, you just rid your head of that notion. I love you, Rolf Torgesson. I cannot explain it, but it must have something to do with the dreams we’ve all been having. The dreams that seem to have led us all to this moment.

  “Nicholas will soon be my husband, true. But you are his brother. Nay, more than his brother. You two are so much a part of each other, you’re like two sides of the same coin. Each of you is…” She spread her hands. “Oh, I don’t know how to put it. Each of you is…the rest of the other. And both of you are the rest of me. The three of us complete each other in ways I cannot comprehend and will never completely understand. The bond between the two of you is stronger than friendship. Stronger than blood. And the love I have for both of you is total. Were one of you to leave, there would be a void in my soul that no one else could ever fill. I cannot imagine my life without you. Either of you.”

  “I would love for nothing better than my dreams of thee to become reality. But be certain that this is what thou truly want, min skat,” Rolf said, watching her face carefully. “We will be roundly condemned for this step we are taking. We are committing a mortal sin in the eyes of thy Church. They consider it an abomination before God. Thou wilt most likely be excommunicated over this. Canst thou live with that?”

  “Can you?” she countered.

  Rolf smiled. “I am what thy Church refers to as a heathen. I believe not in thy God, but in Odin and the gods of Valhalla. ’Tis thee who will pay the highest price for this, mark my words.”

  She eyed him resolutely. Her expression did not change. “I cannot believe in a God who considers loving someone to be a sin. Or a God who forbids the expression of that love.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, as if trying to keep herself together. “Just the thought of you loving me…both of you at the same time—” She broke off, her voice shaking. She closed her eyes, so aroused she was trembling with the force of the dark need coursing through her. “I cannot imagine—” She broke off, a deep shudder running through her at the carnal images that were etched in fire behind her eyelids.

  Dry-mouthed, she put out her tongue to lick her parched lips. The very thought of these two men kissing her…touching her…suckling her breasts…fucking her…Holy Christ! Her womb clenched. She opened her eyes, certain they could read her emotions on her face.

  Both men closed the distance between her and them, stopping just short of touching her. She sucked in her breath. They were both so big, looming over her, looking at her with such intensity that for one brief, terrified instant, she considered turning and running out of the room. But before she could act, Rolf’s hands came out to grip her upper arms. Her gaze ripped to his.

  “Art thou certain about this, yndling?” he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. “I will not agree if all thou want is just an occasional romp. Ours would be a true ménage a trois. The three of us, living, sleeping, and loving together, naught hidden. Think hard, min skat. Keeping two highly sexual men satisfied will place powerful demands on thy body. Our appetites are very deep, and sometimes very dark. I’m not certain thou art ready for this.”

  “Trust me, she’s ready for this,” Nicholas said, a note of pride in his voice. “She is, without a doubt, the most responsive woman I’ve ever known. When it comes to sex, she’s insatiable. Look at her, Rolf. She’s trembling. I’ll wager she’s wet already, just thinking about it. About the two of us pleasuring her. Sucking her nipples. Fucking her.”

  Again she ran her tongue over her lips, her heart flip-flopping like a landed fish at the look of naked hunger in both men’s eyes.

  Rolf’s lips quirked upward in his characteristically lazy smile. His eyes bore into hers, hot and ha
rd, glittering with lust. She was struggling for breath. “Art thou, min skat?” he asked in a low, rough growl that set a bonfire alight deep within her core. “Is that sweet little quim of thine wet for us?”

  Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t look away from his eyes. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth opened, but naught came out. The only thing she could manage was to jerk her head in a nod, looking from one handsome male face to the other. Finally she found her voice, but it didn’t sound like hers. It came out high and thin and reedy. “I am dripping all over myself,” she confessed ruefully. “I cannot wait to feel both of you inside me. Fucking me.”

  With a low groan, Rolf closed his eyes. The sound of that vulgar word coming from her sweet, innocent mouth…By all the gods! He was shaking with a lust so ferocious he didn’t think he would last long enough to thrust his cock inside her. He feared he would disgrace himself and spill his seed all over the sheets. Without a word, he pulled her into his embrace, his mouth coming down on hers in a kiss so full of love and hunger and hot, blazing need, it shook her to her very soul.

  She gave a little whimper as her own need responded, soaring through her in an answering tide. His generous lips were warm, wet, with a flavor and texture completely different from Nicholas’s. She could feel his heavy erection through all the layers of their clothing. Her empty sex clenched hard, almost painfully. Blessed Mary! This was really going to happen! She really was going to have two men make love to her! Not just once, but for the rest of their lives!

  Rolf ended the kiss with a strangled exclamation. “By Odin’s beard, yndling! Thou art—” He shuddered, groping for words.

  “Exactly,” Nicholas agreed on a breathless note of approval, aroused almost beyond endurance by the sight of his betrothed wife in his best friend’s embrace.