by Fabio
"How did it feel when I was inside you?" he asked.
"As if we were one," came her feverish reply.
"We are one, Reyna," he told her soulfully. "Even when we're not joined physically. There's no escaping the bond between us."
Writhing in rapture, Reyna believed him.
"Now I'm going to touch you," he murmured. "First with my fingers, then with my mouth—"
"You would not!" she cried with equal measures of horror and fascination.
His finger teased the folds of her womanhood. "Just tell me to stop, darling ... anytime."
His very gentleness made her shameless with desire- "Nay-Do not stop."
He grinned and continued to touch her there, caressing with a single finger, stoking the fires of her desire to a fever pitch. When his finger slipped inside her, pleasure swamped her in wild waves that left her gasping. She squirmed violently.
'That's it, darling. Move against me. Savor it."
She glanced up at him, eager but also curious. "How?"
“I’ll show you."
Staring into her eyes, Viktor slipped his free hand beneath her, arching her bottom upward to heighten the pressure of his finger, teaching her the rhythms and movements that would peak her own pleasure. Reyna cried out at the intent stimulation and began to move of her own accord. The pleasure proved too fierce, and still the vise of her rising desire only tightened. When she held back slightly, half frightened of the electrifying sensations streaming through her, his hand was unyielding, pushing her inexorably into a frenzied delirium she could not escape—
When he slipped two fingers inside her, she whimpered, her fingers clawing the fur bedcovers. The pressure was acute, the ecstasy shattering. Again Viktor's hand beneath her lifted her into the exquisite friction.
Reyna was out of her mind. "Viktor, pray, I cannot bear—"
"But you can, darling. You can bear this and a lot more."
"Nay!"
In response, he arched her into his fingers until she screamed in pleasure.
" 'tis killing me now!"
He only chuckled and drove her far beyond madness.
Just when Reyna thought she would faint from the riotous sensations convulsing her, Viktor leaned down to compound the unbearable torture with his lips—
Reyna panicked, fighting a pleasure so dazzling, so explosive, she feared its very intensity would slay her. Her thighs clenched around Viktor's face, but she succeeded only in heightening her own torment as she unwittingly drove her husband's lips deeper, until she felt his tongue slashing against her sensitive nub. She cried out in agonized joy—
"Don't fight it, darling/ he urged, flicking his tongue to and fro and penetrating deeper with his fingers.
Reyna sobbed and beat a fist on the bed.
"Give yourself over to my love. Let yourself feel it," Viktor urged.
Still, he was aware of her holding back, tensing against the building eruption, and he pressed relentlessly, sucking deeply a§ his fingers twisted inexorably inside her snug sheath. He heard her wail of desperation. Then at last he felt her shuddering, heard her low sobs, and her shattered cries filled him with love. When she threw her knees over his shoulders and arched into his possession, he knew the sweetness of her surrender and tasted her climax on his lips—
Beneath him, Reyna exploded in breathless rapture, trembling violently against her husband's mouth. Viktor brought her to peak after peak of raw ecstasy, making the moment last. She tossed her head and frantically sucked in her breath.
When it was over, when he lowered her legs to the bed, she was still panting, her eyes dark and dilated, focused on him. She saw the tears in her husband's eyes, and the sweetness of what they had just shared hit her with new, blinding force. When he kissed her, she tasted his tears and they touched her very soul.
"There," he whispered, gazing down at her so tenderly. That's how much I love you, darling. And I do love you, Reyna. I will show you this pleasure for the rest of your life—and never take mine—if it will make you this happy."
Reyna almost wept with him then, so moved was she by his admission of love and the pleasure he had given her so selflessly. Desperate to give him back this wondrous feeling in equal measure, she sat up, tugging at the ties to his leggings, determined to free that delicious hard bulge.
'Take me now. Please," she begged.
Above her, Viktor appeared touched but also uncertain. "Only if you are content to give yourself to me."
She had freed him and was stroking him wantonly, wrenching groans from him. "I give myself to you. Freely. Now take me."
"Are you sure?" came his anguished question.
"Yea, my husband."
Indeed, Reyna now felt as if she would burst if he did not at once fill her with his rock-hard, splendid erection. Frantic with desire, she pushed Viktor back onto his knees and eagerly straddled him.
His hands stayed her, and his voice trembled. "Even if it means having my child?"
His words alone made Reyna quiver with rapture at the thought of Viktor's seed spewing inside her and taking deep root. After all they had shared, her pride, her warrior instincts, seemed not to matter. Truly, in (hat moment she wanted Viktor's baby—wanted the happiness he offered her—with all her heart, body, and soul.
"Yea, even then," she whispered, lowering herself onto his solid shaft.
As he barely penetrated her, she convulsed in ecstasy once more. "Viktor could not bear it Reyna felt so hot, so wet, the folds of her womanhood swollen so tightly from the intensity of her climax. Just knowing that he had done this to her, and that she was giving herself to him again without reservation, profoundly stirred his emotions and broke his control. He surged powerfully, forcing himself inside her taut vessel, then pulling back at her shattered cry.
"Don't let me hurt you," he pleaded.
What Reyna felt at that moment was not pain but very close to it, so riveting was her pleasure. Kissing Viktor to stifle his cries and her own, she impaled herself on him greedily.
At her eagerness, all of Viktor's remaining control spun away and he devoured his wife's body, lowering her to the bed, where she eagerly coiled her legs around his waist and absorbed his powerful thrusts with abandon. His lips seized hers in an aching kiss. Her soft inner thighs rode his hips, surging higher and higher and taking his essence deeply inside herself, until he came to rest against her womb. They clung to each other, rocking exquisitely as rapture convulsed them both.
TWENTY-SEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING, WITH HER HUSBAND'S PERMISSION, Reyna went to visit her brother and Harald in the little shieling cottage where they were kept prisoner. As she walked out of the village and up the hillside, she recalled her passionate surrender to Viktor last night.
Surrender ... Mere weeks ago, that word had been total anathema to Reyna. In the brutal times in which she lived, there was no kindness, no mercy, and to surrender meant disgrace, subjugation, defeat, even death. Yet in her husband's arms she had discovered new meaning to the word; in surrender she had found joy, tenderness, victory, and exultation. Verily, she had gloried more in giving Viktor his pleasure than she had when he had selflessly brought her to rapture.
In his arms she became powerless, and this reality amazed and moved Reyna as much as it threatened all the beliefs to which she had clung over a lifetime. How could she protect herself from a feeling she now so desperately craved?
She set aside her thoughts as she approached the little stone cottage perched on the crest of a rise. Outside the door, Ottar was stationed as guard—although whether he was truly providing security was questionable, Reyna decided ruefully. He did not spot her approaching, and the source of his distraction was plain to see. In front of him stood the thrall Iva; he was leaning toward the girl, stroking her face, obviously flirting.
"Good morrow/I Reyna called out.
At once the two sprang apart, wearing matching guilty expressions. Ottar bowed stiffly to Reyna. "Good morrow, our queen. How may I serve you
?"
Spotting Iva's red face, Reyna was tempted to lease Ottar about serving himself. Instead, she smiled and replied, "By unbarring the door. My husband has given me leave to visit my brother."
"Of course, milady." At once Ottar removed the bar from the door and creaked open the panel.
At the portal, Reyna paused to wink at the embarrassed Iva. To Ottar, she said, "You may now finish what you were doing."
She stepped inside. As the door shut behind her, Reyna blinked at the darkness and smoke. She spotted her brother and Harald seated near the fire eating porridge. Moving toward the small pool of light provided by the blaze, she noted that both men appeared well rested and the bruises on their faces were fading.
"Good morrow," she greeted them.
"Good morrow, my sister," Ragar replied with a smile. "Will you join us for our meal?"
"Nay, I have already broken my fast." Reyna plopped herself down next to Ragar, crossed her legs under her, and nodded to Harald. "I have come to beg you both to take your leave—while my husband is still willing, and before his men rebel against his dictates and give you their worst."
At his sister's impassioned words, Ragar glanced at his kinsman, then back at her. "My sister, Harald and I have discussed this matter already. We are reluctant to return to my father's camp. Now that you are Viktor's bride, there is certain to be a terrible war. If we rejoin Wolfgard's people, he will expect us to do battle against Viktor and his tribe. But I will not lift a sword against Viktor—not with you here, as his bride."
Reyna glanced at Harald. "Those are your feelings as well?"
'"Yea. Your brother and I find our allegiances torn."
Reyna nodded, understanding their dilemma. "Then you had best stay here with us and not return to Wolfgard—"
"How can we, Reyna?” cut in Harald. "What if Wolfgard attacks us while we are yet here?"
'The danger is very real," Ragar declared, "indeed, for some time Wolfgard has seemed to know of Viktor the Valliant’s every move. I have Long suspected my father has a spy in this camp."
"Know you who 'tis?" Reyna asked.
"Nay," answered Ragar. "But if Wolfgard attacks, how can we defend you and raise our swords against my father?"
"Yet how can we not defend you?" asked Harald.
She scowled. "You must realize I am honor-bound to remain here, unless my husband gives me leave to go. Though it rankles, I have pledged my fealty to Viktor and his tribe in order to save you both."
"That we fully understand," Ragar said, clutching his sister's hand. "We did not want you to give yourself to Viktor to save us, but 'tis done now and we will not try to subvert your loyalties. Only Harald and I ..." Ragar shook his head. "We find ourselves hopelessly caught in the middle."
Reyna laughed humorlessly. "Verily, we are ail caught in the middle."
More than a week passed. Viktor and Reyna had occasional spats, but seemed even more caught up in the wonder of being newfound lovers. Ragar and Harald lingered in the village and gradually, Viktor talked his men into giving the prisoners more freedom.
One night during the meal, the company in the dining hall was astonished when the sentries dragged in two captives, a pair of battered warriors. Both strangers had bloodied noses and blackened eyes; their hands were bound behind them, and they were prodded into the room at sword point.
"What is this?" an astonished Viktor asked the sentries.
Before the guards could respond, Reyna spoke up, " 'Tis Dirk and Garm, two of my stepfather's fighters."
"But—what are they doing here? " Viktor demanded.
"Jarl, we caught these two in a boat at the edge of the fjord," explained the first sentry. "They were trying to sneak ashore under cover of night."
Canute jumped up with features fierce and sword drawn. "Let me slay them, jarl!"
Rollo, too, surged to his feet. "Yea, jarl! But allow me. I swear the slayings will be slow and painful.' He drew out his dagger and grinned. " 'Tis my great honor to carve out the hearts of our enemies."
Watching the captives grow ashen-faced at the grisly possibilities, Viktor stood and held up a hand. "Wait a minute. We must keep our heads and consider this matter more carefully."
"For what purpose, jarl?' demanded Orm.
"To begin with, so we can determine why these men have come here."
"Let me torture them for you,' offered Canute with an eager, bloodthirsty grin. 'Their tongues will loosen once the hot coals are applied to their feet"
Grinding his teeth at Canute's lack of restraint, Viktor approached the frightened men. "Perhaps torture won't be necessary"—he paused to glance meaningfully at the prisoners—"if the captives are willing to tell us the reason for their mission."
Although one of the men remained proudly silent, the other began speaking shrilly. "Wolfgard bade us come here to kill the Ravisher for her treachery."
All at once every set of eyes in the room became focused on Reyna. Magnificent in her fury, she shot to her feet and drew out her dagger. 'Then I will kill my stepfather for his perfidy—after I slay the dastardly assassins he has sent to murder me!"
At her spiteful words, Rollo, Orm and Canute actually cheered her on. With dagger raised, Reyna was marching toward the captives when her husband stepped into her path and caught her wrist. Immediately they began struggling.
"No, Reyna!" he cried, twisting her wrist until she dropped the knife, which clattered to the floor.
Still trying to yank free of her husband's grip, Reyna glared furiously at him. "These cravens came here to slay me—and mayhap even your unborn child—yet you will let them live?"
"We will not kill defenseless men in this manner," Viktor replied. He nodded to Svein. "See that the captives are guarded at one of the shieling cottages. They may prove useful."
Even Svein appeared skeptical. "Verily, in what manner could they aid us, jarl?"
"What if we can convince them to join our cause?" Viktor replied. "What greater defeat could there be for Wolfgard than to see two of his warriors defecting?' Staring at the captives, he added, "And they may even be able to reveal the identity of Wolfgard's spy among our own."
There was a collective gasp in the room. "Wolfgard has secured a traitor in our ranks?' demanded Rollo.
Viktor glanced at Svein, then nodded to Rollo. "That has long been our suspicion."
"Let us thrash the truth out of the captives!" roared Orm.
"We will arrive at the truth, but not through brutality," countered Viktor firmly.
Although mere was some additional grumbling, ultimately Viktor's kinsmen bowed to his dictate that the warriors would be imprisoned and questioned, but not tortured. Rollo even called out generously, "Yea, I am willing to let these two bring disgrace to our enemy, even if it takes more time to secure their cooperation."
Canute stared pointedly at Reyna and said, "Let the two cravens turn traitor to Wolfgard and join our cause, just as the Ravisher has already betrayed her stepfather."
Seeing rage flare in his wife's eyes, Viktor could have throttled Canute. He groaned as Reyna leaned over, grabbed her dagger, shoved it into its sheath, and stormed back to her place. After the captives were led away by Svein and Ottar, a pall descended over the gathering.
Viktor felt highly disturbed by the incident, especially by this proof of an increasing and more imminent threat from Wolfgard. He was equally dismayed by his men's—and his wife's—show of savagery toward the captives. He wondered dismally if he had managed to change the bloodthirsty attitudes of these people at all. At this rate, he might never end the feud, for how could he combat Wolfgard without a terrible loss of life? His men had taught him to be a fighter; how could he train them to become peacemakers rather than predators? How could he tame his own warriors when, so far, he had not even reformed his wayward wife? He must consider these matters at length ...
Toward the end of the meal, Ragar got to his feet and addressed Viktor. "With my host's permission, I have something to say to this company.
"
Viktor nodded to the earnest young man. "By all means, speak your mind."
" Tis obvious there will be a terrible conflict over my sister's wedding you, Viktor the Valiant," Ragar began solemnly. "My kinsman and I have discussed this at great length- I am no warrior, and if I remain here, I will be hopelessly caught between two waning factions, owing a blood allegiance to both."
Reyna spoke up, her voice taut with alarm. "What are you telling us, my brother?"
"I am saying I have decided to return to the country of our mother's birth," Ragar replied.
"You will go to Loire?" Reyna gasped, wide-eyed.
"Yea. Harald will accompany me. And I wish for you to make the journey with us, my sister." Ragar glanced tensely at Viktor. "Your husband is certainly welcome as well."
At this pronouncement, Reyna turned beseechingly to Viktor.
He in turn frowned at Ragar. "You are convinced this is what you should do?"
Ragar nodded firmly. "As I have already stated, Harald and I have discussed this much over the past days. I feel the pull of my mother's heritage. And if I stay here ..." He looked at his sister and sighed. "I will end up having to raise a sword against my father—or my sister. I will die before I do either."
"Yea, and so will I," added Harald adamantly.
Viktor felt moved by the sincerity of both men. "I understand And I will see to it that you are provided a small ship and an escort to Loire."
'Thank you," Ragar told Viktor. Tentatively, he added, "What of my sister?"
Before Viktor could reply, Reyna entreated her husband in a plaintive voice, "May I go with them to Loire?"
As everyone else in the chamber intently observed the exchange, Viktor struggled against his own conflicted emotions. Although he could understand the hurts and longings driving Reyna, it chafed him badly that his wife would so quickly and eagerly desert him.
"We will not discuss this in front of the others," he told her.
Hearing the finality in her husband's tone, Reyna churned in silent frustration. She already well knew what Viktor's answer would be.
