Twin Passions

by Miriam Minger

  "Please, do not disturb him," she murmured quietly, her hand on his arm. "My brother is sleeping at last."

  Olav stood up, shifting uncomfortably under her steady, emerald gaze. He was not immune to the charms of a beautiful woman, and this one was truly bewitching. He found himself nodding, then followed her from the stable as she stepped out into the cold night air. She shivered visibly. Olav took his heavy hooded cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her.

  "Come, lass, I will show you the way," he muttered, holding her arm gently. Two other guards walked before them, their blazing torches held high to light the path leading to Lord Hakon's hall.

  Chapter 23

  Gwendolyn entered the dimly lit hall, still wrapped in Olav's hooded cloak. Her heart was pounding madly, and try as she would, she could not still her trembling. She could see a glowing light from the central fireplace within the main room, but she did not see any sign of Hakon. For a moment she stood as if rooted to the floor, overwhelmed by fear of what was to come.

  Hakon's deep voice suddenly called out to her from across the hall. "Come forward into the light, Anora," he commanded.

  Gwendolyn raised her chin defiantly, the fear chased from her mind by the burning hate that flared within her at the sound of his voice. Aye, she hated him . . . for bringing them to this cursed land, for condemning them to a life of slavery, and, most of all, for what he was about to do to her. And it was this hate that gave her the strength she needed. She squared her delicate shoulders and began to walk slowly into the main room.

  Her eyes widened in astonishment as she noted the richness of the furnishings and the fine woven tapestries gracing the timbered walls. She had never seen such luxury before! Everywhere she looked were new and strange sights: delicately glazed pottery; blue-tinted vessels that one could see through; silver goblets and bowls of every size and shape; a bronze urn resting on the floor from which scented smoke was wafting. All this and much more attested to the great wealth the Viking had acquired as a merchant trader. Ansgar had told her Lord Hakon was as wealthy as he was powerful, but such richness was beyond belief!

  Why, he even has fine furs upon the wooden floor! Gwendolyn marveled. She had never heard of such a thing. She stepped gingerly around a thick black fur placed in the middle of the hall.

  "The furs are laid on the floor to walk upon." Hakon laughed easily, rising from an ornately carved chair set near the fireplace. "There is no need to step around them."

  Gwendolyn looked up, a sudden blush warming her skin. She was no stranger to men's bodies, having grown up surrounded by her father's thanes, but she had never seen a man built so powerfully as Hakon. She wondered why she had never thought so before, but then she decided it was probably because she had never seen him so scantily clothed.

  He had changed from his black riding garb into a sleeveless tunic, open down the front, that only too well revealed his muscled arms and the bronzed expanse of his chest. The tunic was tucked loosely into snug-fitting trousers that were molded to his tapered hips and sinewy thighs, while soft leather boots came just to his knees. He had no belt, but only a silken drawstring tied at his waist. His white-blond hair, brushed back from his wide forehead, tumbled about his neck in soft waves.

  Her wide-eyed perusal pleased Hakon, for he smiled, his teeth a flash of white against the bronzed planes of his face.

  He crossed the remaining distance between them in only two strides, and gathered her into his arms.

  "Anora . . . my Anora," he said huskily, crushing her to him. Gwendolyn stiffened in his arms. He was so tall that he seemed to tower over her, her head barely coming to his shoulder. Suddenly he bent his head and lifted her chin to him, capturing her soft lips with his own.

  Gwendolyn started in surprise, her breath caught in her throat. She had never been kissed by a man before. Hakon's lips were warm upon hers, even tender, and she found herself thinking the new sensation was not altogether unpleasant. Unconsciously she leaned toward him, closing her eyes, an odd stirring awakening deep within her.

  Sensing her unexpected acquiescence, Hakon deepened his kiss, his tongue forcing open her lips as he sought to taste the hidden sweetness of her mouth. Gwendolyn's eyes flew open in shock at this new demand, reality once again flooding her mind. She tried to pull away from him but he held her fast, one strong arm encircling her waist, while his other hand caressed the small of her back and her slender hips. Suddenly she twisted her head to the side, tearing her lips from his. The hood of the cloak slipped from her head.

  Hakon stared in disbelief for a moment, holding her away from him. "What have you done?" he asked finally, his voice low. His eyes glittered dangerously in the orange, glowing light of the fireplace.

  Gwendolyn stepped back, frightened, and shakily held out her hand. The silver-blond tresses tumbled to the floor like finely spun gossamer and landed at his feet, a stark contrast to the black fur rug. Hakon looked from her to the floor, then bent down on one knee and picked up a silken tendril.

  "Your beautiful hair . . . why?" he murmured softly after several minutes, deceiving Gwendolyn into thinking his rage was past.

  "It matters naught," she replied simply, though her heart was pounding hard against her chest. "'Tis done, my lord, and cannot be undone." Strangely, she found she could not say what she had planned —that she had denied him at least a part of her.

  Hakon slowly rose to his feet, his blue eyes raking her with heated intensity. "Nay, little one, it matters a great deal to me," he whispered huskily. "You are mine, Anora, and have been since the moment I found you on my ship. Everything you are, and everything you possess, is of great importance to me." He took a step toward her. "I have long awaited those words you spoke earlier this night . . . too long. I should have taken you in the bathing house at Sumburgh Voe, but I had hoped one day you would come to me willingly. What a fool I have been! Even tonight I had thought your heart had softened toward me, but again I have been deceived!" He held out the shining lock of silver-blond hair. "By doing this, you have taken what belongs to me. Now, I shall take what is mine!"

  Hakon swept Gwendolyn so suddenly into his arms that it seemed the room spun around her. Holding her tightly against his broad chest, he carried her from the main hall into a large adjoining room that was softly lit by small oil-burning lamps. She struggled wildly in his arms, her mind reeling from the force of his words. But before she could even begin to grasp fully their meaning, she found herself flung upon a wide, fur-laden bed. Desperately she tried to crawl to the far end, but he caught her by one leg and dragged her back.

  Her emerald eyes met his, and it was then that she realized any further attempts to escape him would be useless. Hakon's eyes, burning with desire, seemed to devour her as he easily ripped her mantle and linen shift in two, exposing her slender beauty to his gaze. Gwendolyn tried frantically to gather the remnants of her clothing about her, but suddenly he was upon her. He caught her wrists over her head with one hand, while he pulled her body against his hard length with his other arm.

  Gwendolyn closed her eyes tightly, awaiting the rape she knew she did not have the strength to fight. Her only thought was to resist in the one way she had left to her. Aye, she thought defiantly, the Viking could have his way with her, but she would be damned if she would respond to his hated touch. She suddenly went limp in his arms and turned her face away.

  Hakon was not surprised when Gwendolyn ceased her struggles and lay still. A faint smile crossed his face as he gazed down upon her delicate features. By the blood of Odin, she was by far the loveliest woman he had ever held in his arms, he thought appreciatively. He had no intention of raping her, though he knew he had given her that impression from his rough treatment. His anger had cooled now that she was beside him, and in its place was a growing desire to savor every inch of her.

  Hakon gently traced his finger along the determined line of her chin, trying to stifle a chuckle. He was well enough versed in the ways of women to know she had issued him a
challenge he could not refuse. She might lie limply in his arms now, but he was sure that before the night was through she would want him as much as he wanted her . . . and cry out for his touch.

  His eyes wandered down the delicate length of her, his hand pulling aside the torn clothing to reveal fully her form to his heated gaze. She was so fair, from the silver-blond curls that framed her face to the silky blond mound between her slender thighs. Her creamy skin, shining like alabaster in the soft glow of the oil lamps, was a sharp contrast to the burnished bronze of his own. Her breasts, though small, were high and perfectly rounded, the pale pink nipples taut from the cool air in the room.

  Hakon drew in his breath sharply. The very sight of her made his blood hot, yet he knew he would have to take his time with her. He could tell Anora was no common wench to be bedded and then forgotten. Her dignity and proud bearing alone bespoke a high birth and genteel upbringing. She was like a fine, high-spirited filly that had not yet been broken. He had no doubt that she was yet a virgin. Her shock at his kiss had attested to that.

  Nay, he would go slowly with her, not only because he longed to see passionate desire for him burning in her emerald eyes . . . and perhaps one day, something more . . . but because he wanted her to find pleasure in his arms. Too much rested on this one night for it to be otherwise. Perhaps she would not be so hesitant to share his bed in the days and nights to follow. He bent his head, his lips tracing a feather-light path down the long column of her throat, while his hand caressed the taut hollow of her belly.

  Gwendolyn shivered suddenly. A strange sensation was building within her unlike anything she had ever felt before. She fought to lie still in Hakon's arms, but it was becoming impossible. It seemed his hands were everywhere at once, caressing, teasing . . . yet ever so gently. This was not the cruel assault she had expected. Nay, this was almost worse, a lingeringly slow torture that heated her skin wherever he touched her. His lips once again captured hers, seeming to draw the very breath from her body, demanding a response.

  Hakon was rewarded as a soft moan broke from Gwendolyn's throat. He lifted his head to gaze down upon her. Thor, but she was beautiful! A triumphant smile played about his lips, but he knew it was yet too soon. She was still fighting him with her spirit, though her tantalizing body was beginning to betray her.

  "Open your eyes, Anora, and look at me," Hakon whispered huskily, his breath warm against her ear. Shaken by his last kiss, Gwendolyn felt almost drugged as her eyes flickered open, but her resolve to resist him still burned within her mind. She gasped as he began to remove his clothing, but for some strange reason she could not tear her eyes away. He easily shrugged off his silken vest, fully baring his sculpted chest with its mat of golden curls to her view. He kicked the leather boots off his feet, then pulled the drawstring at his waist, loosening his trousers, and slid them from his long legs.

  At the sight of his erect manhood Gwendolyn quickly looked away, a burning blush firing her cheeks. Hakon ignored the look of shock in her eyes and drew her to him again, cradling her in his strong arms. So, she has never seen a man before, he thought. Yea, it pleased him mightily that he would be the first. He reveled in the silken feel of her body against his muscled length, and once again he began his gentle assault.

  His hands stroked the narrow indentation of her waist and the slender curve of her hips, while his lips gradually became more demanding, plundering her mouth. He then trailed a molten path of fiery kisses down one delicately boned shoulder to the crest of her breast, his tongue tentatively flicking the pale nipple. Cupping the perfect mound with his hand, he suckled hungrily.

  Gwendolyn arched her back at this new sensation, her fingers unconsciously entwining in Hakon's blond hair. Sweet Jesu! How could she fight what he was doing to her! She could feel his strong fingers stroking the silken skin of her inner thigh ever so lightly. Then his hand strayed purposefully to the moist core of her, probing, searching.

  "So beautiful . . ." Hakon murmured thickly, kissing her breasts, her throat, her love-bruised lips.

  A ragged sigh tore from her as his expert fingers found the sensitive point he had been seeking. She arched against his hand, her body no longer in her control as wave after wave of heady sensation rippled through her, all resistance forgotten.

  Exulting in her passionate abandon, Hakon was no longer able to contain his own burning desire. The sight of her writhing wantonly beneath him was more than he could withstand. He quickly shifted his weight until he was poised over her. Then he gently parted her legs with his knee. His throbbing shaft nudged the final barrier of her maidenhead at the heart of the satiny folds, rubbing against the pearl of her desire.

  Gwendolyn cried out again as another wave of pleasure surged through her body, her slender hips moving instinctively against him as she reached out to pull him to her. At the height of her ecstasy Hakon brought his mouth down upon hers in a crushing kiss and plunged himself into her.

  A sudden, tearing pain caught Gwendolyn by surprise. "Oh!" she gasped against his lips, her passion-dimmed eyes flying open.

  "Now there will be no more pain, little one . . . only pleasure," Hakon whispered soothingly, moving ever so slowly within her.

  It was true, she thought fleetingly. The pain passed quickly, and she was overwhelmed by a surging crescendo of heated passion building within her. All conscious thought fled her mind as she wrapped her arms about Hakon's muscled back, matching the thrusting movements of his body perfectly with her own. His stroke was gentle at first, but then it increased in intensity as he delved within her, deeper and deeper.

  Her lips clung to his, drawing from them, breathing with him as one, as they soared together on a tidal wave of raging desire. Their bodies moved in a rhythm as old as time itself, merging, writhing, the hot tension mounting higher and higher until it broke over them both in an exploding shower of searing, throbbing delight.

  Gwendolyn did not know how long they had been lying there, clasped tightly in each other's arms, when she finally opened her eyes. She felt dazed, yet strangely at peace. A numbing sense of contentment had settled over her, like nothing she had ever felt before. Hakon's tousled head was resting on her shoulder, and she unwittingly ran her tapered fingers through his thick, white-blond curls. His rumbling deep voice startled her and she stopped, suddenly aware of what she was doing.

  "You have hidden your passion well from me, little one," he murmured huskily. "Until now." He raised his head from her shoulder and gazed down upon her with tenderness, his hand gently stroking the side of her face. His lips brushed lightly against hers, his breath warm upon her skin. "You have pleased me greatly this night, Anora."

  A twinge of anger flared within Gwendolyn at his soft-spoken words, the sense of contentment fleeing from her mind as quickly as it had come. Aye, so her body had betrayed her, she thought with some chagrin. At least her defiant spirit still remained intact, if naught else! She tried to shift her weight from beneath him, but it was of no use. His powerful body seemed molded to her slender form.

  Hakon groaned audibly at her movement, feeling himself grow hard deep within her. Thor, this woman fired his blood like no other! Suddenly he rolled over onto his back, carrying Gwendolyn with him. Her emerald eyes widened in astonishment as she found herself astride him now, her silky thighs hugging his tapered hips. He laughed deeply, a wicked glint of desire lighting his blue eyes.

  "It seems I have not yet had enough of you, little one," he murmured thickly, his large hands grasping her narrow waist as he began to move slowly within her.

  "Oh . . .!" Gwendolyn cried, trembling uncontrollably, her hands resting on his broad chest. Her fingers entwined themselves in the dense golden curls as a heated rush of pleasure surged through her body. Her eyes, half-closed with passion, followed the fine line of hair trailing down his taut abdomen to where they were joined as one. She blushed bright pink.

  "'Tis how man and woman were meant to be." Hakon chuckled easily. Then he pulled her to him, his warm mouth nuz
zling her high, firm breasts. Gwendolyn moaned as his tongue traced a moist circle of fire around one taut nipple, while his hand caressed and teased the silky smooth skin of the other. There was a fierceness to his movements this time, possessive, demanding, as he took her with a burning urgency he knew only she could fulfill.

  Their melded bodies, bathed in a fine sheen of perspiration, were one in a wild dance of passion, swirling ever upward on a wave of rapture so intense that Gwendolyn thought she would surely die from the surging sensations. Hakon's lips captured hers at the very pinnacle of their release, stifling the cry that tore from her throat. For a moment it seemed as if time stood still, and there was nothing save the tumultuous ecstasy they both shared.

  Sated at last, Hakon gently lifted her from him and cradled her in his arms as he rolled over onto his side. He kissed away the tears of passion that streaked her lovely face. Then, reaching behind him with one hand, he pulled a thick fur blanket over them both.

  Too exhausted to offer any resistance, Gwendolyn lay her head against his chest. Lulled by the steady beating of his heart, she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

  Hakon smiled, his eyes drinking in every delicate feature of her upturned face. He marveled at the dark length of her gold-tipped lashes, fluttering ever so slightly as she slept, and the rose-tinted translucence of her creamy skin. Gathering her closer to him, he was amazed at the strength of his feelings for her. He had never felt so drawn to any woman before, but in her he believed he had finally met his match.

  "Before Odin I swear this woman is mine!" he whispered fiercely. "And woe to any who try to wrest her from me!" He lay his head back against the eiderdown pillow, but it was a long time before he slept.