‘Enough! I’m speaking of a wife. You need a wife, not a slave.’
‘Aye, I agree, but it won’t be Kadlin.’ He nodded again to Sweyn, who immediately ushered the girl back to his chamber.
‘It should be Kadlin! Keep the slave for the winter. Bed her all you want. But don’t cast Kadlin away while you do it. Be done with the girl and marry in spring before you leave.’
‘It won’t be Kadlin. She doesn’t want our marriage. Whatever agreement you and Jarl Leif have made will have to be dissolved, or you can marry her to Gunnar.’
The jarl guffawed. ‘Gunnar! Gunnar? He leads the men on his boat well, but he’s a warrior. He’s too reckless and wild to be a jarl. The men need a level head to lead them. And you are the rightful heir.’
‘The men know that. They will follow me when the time comes.’
‘You’ve made a mistake, Eirik. I only hope you realise it before it’s too late.’
Eirik nodded to his father and turned towards his chamber. The jarl could be right, but it was a mistake he was willing to make.
Most of the men would follow him, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a small contingent hoping to gain more for themselves by installing Gunnar as jarl. He agreed that with the power of Jarl Leif behind him his claim would have been virtually unbreakable. Maybe it was unwise not to pursue her, but marrying Kadlin had never held much appeal. His thoughts inadvertently went to Merewyn, and he was shocked at how easily he could imagine her as his wife with their sons and daughters playing at her skirts.
She could be with child now. His chest tightened so much at the idea that he had to force a deep breath. He’d have to leave her in the spring for the raids. There was no help for it, but perhaps by then his father would have come to terms with his decision and she would be safe. However, there would never be the question of marriage for them. She was a slave, and even if he set her free, her station in life would never be elevated high enough to become an acceptable wife for a jarl.
He’d have to make it up to her somehow. He wasn’t fool enough to think that a noblewoman, even a noblewoman slave, wouldn’t want marriage. He’d have to show her that they could have a good life together anyway. Make her realise how he valued her, so that she could be happy. Perhaps it was time to tell her how important she really was to him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Merewyn jumped to her feet when Eirik walked into the chamber. She was exhausted from the long trip, but their dramatic welcome had unsettled her so much that sleep would be impossible for a while. Her stomach was in knots that churned against each other, twining tighter.
His gaze met hers briefly before he walked by her to the chest at the foot of the bed and dropped his burden of sword, furs and a leather satchel. His jaw was clenched and rigid shoulders told her he was angry.
‘What happened? What did he say?’ She wrung her hands as she waited for him to speak. She’d heard the jarl—even in Eirik’s chamber, she’d heard him clearly. But her knowledge of the language was so poor that she’d only picked up a couple of words.
He shook his head and knelt to open the satchel and slowly, maddeningly, empty its contents one by one and put them away. His comb and straight blade wrapped in a leather sheath were placed on a small corner table. His spare woollen socks were thrown into the opposite corner with his extra trousers to be washed later, and finally his sheathed sword was carefully placed onto hooks affixed to the wall by the bed.
‘Please, Eirik! Tell me.’
He was unfastening his cloak and flung it angrily onto the bed before he spoke. ‘He’s angry that I’ve decided not to marry Kadlin.’
‘Oh.’ She had expected the jarl’s anger to be about her, not Kadlin. It seemed the woman and Eirik had been more than friends after all. ‘So you were betrothed, then?’
‘Nay, only in his foolish head. We played together as children and her father is a jarl.’ His voice trailed off on a frustrated sigh, and he ran both hands through his hair. ‘Our fathers think we should marry. But she doesn’t want it. I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted it.’
Merewyn looked at him. Really looked at him and tried to put herself in the place of any other woman. The breadth of his chest was impressively displayed by his pose. Her eyes followed the line of his lean hips down to his muscular thighs before roving back up to the ropes of muscle that banded his exposed forearms and finally settled on his face. Despite the fact that his nose had been broken once, his features were almost too perfect, his lips too sensual, his eyes too blue.
It was impossible. No woman in her right mind would refuse him. Even the thought of another woman laying claim to him made her heart lurch in jealousy.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she accused. ‘Did you lie to me about her? That night, I saw her with her arms around you—’
‘Nay, Merewyn, I’ve not lied to you.’ He’d not been oblivious to her thorough inspection, and lowered his arms to his sides. His eyelids had gone hooded and the corner of his mouth ticked upwards in that almost smile she had come to love. A coil of heat unfurled in her belly, unwinding the knots and making her short of breath. He moved the short distance between them, leaving only a small gap.
The fact that he could be so nonchalant in the face of her anger only added fuel to the quickly blazing fire. ‘She touched you as if she knew you, as if she had the right to you.’
When she would have backed away in anger, his fingers went under her cloak to grab her wrists. The way his thumbs rubbed circles over the sensitive skin was distracting, but not distracting enough that her heart didn’t stop with his next words. ‘We did discuss marriage, but decided against it.’
‘Why wouldn’t she want you?’ She hated the envy she felt towards the woman who had been so kind to her. To have a claim to him and then to throw it away was beyond comprehension.
‘She wanted a love match, and I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me. Besides, Kadlin knew that I only wanted you.’
‘Now I really don’t believe you.’
‘Then there’s something you should know.’
When he looked down at her small hands in his, she took a deep breath to try to slow her racing heart. He wasn’t meeting her eyes; in fact he seemed to avoid doing so and she didn’t know how to take that.
‘What should I know?’
‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever known.’
He couldn’t mean what her feeble heart tried to make those words mean. It was impossible. He was... Well, he was Eirik. Women noticed men like him. Women pursued men like him. ‘What do you mean?’
His solemn gaze met hers and she knew he spoke the truth. ‘I’ve spent most of my life trying to control my urges—my tolerance for pain, my endurance in battle, my need for sustenance, my need for women—but you broke me. I avoided that need until you.’ When he saw that he needed to elaborate, he dropped a wrist to run a hand through his hair and clarified. ‘I’ve never been inside another woman—only you. I couldn’t stop myself from taking you. Now it’s all I think about.’
‘How is that possible?’ She was too stunned by the admission to say anything else.
‘You’re quite tempting.’
‘But how, Eirik? Why?’
‘It doesn’t matter, Merewyn. Just know that I only want you.’
‘But it does matter. It doesn’t make any sense.’
He changed their positions so quickly, she was struck off balance as he swept her up into his arms and turned towards the door. ‘Right now I want you to join me in the bath. I’ve wanted to have you there since the night you were there with me.’
She bit the inside of her lip to hide her urge to smile, too smitten to care that just moments ago she’d been anxious and angry. He carried her out the back way to the bathhouse that already had a steaming tub of water waiting. He must have arranged it before meeting he
r in his chamber. When he set her down, he let her knees go so she slid along his length, and then he pulled her close so she felt the hard bulge of his manhood against her belly.
‘Tell me why, Eirik. I want to understand you.’
‘Not now,’ he whispered, and pushed her back firmly to undress her.
When he had finished and she stood nude before him, he bid her to go to the tub, where she sank down in the deliciously warm water to watch him disrobe. It was a sight she would never tire of seeing. When all his clothes were gone, her intimate muscles clenched at the sight of him, his hard length vibrating with each step that brought him closer to her.
He moved into the tub behind her, his knees on either side of hers as he pulled her back to him. She thought of the foolish child she had been the first time they had been there and how she had wanted him even then. Wanting to touch him, she lightly laid her hands on his muscled thighs, the coarse hairs tickling her palms. He stiffened at first, but a thrill of victory buoyed her when he relaxed and allowed her that small touch.
They stayed that way for a while, letting the warm water relax their tired muscles while savouring the feel of slick skin against slick skin. But he was hard against the small of her back the entire time, and the ache between her thighs had only become more noticeable. It only worsened when he reached over to a bucket beside the tub for a handful of what she assumed to be soap. It was a thick liquid that was already warm when he dribbled it on her chest and used both hands to slowly work it into her breasts. His hands didn’t stop there, though. They worked down her arms, her stomach, her legs, until he hooked his feet around her ankles to open her thighs wide so he could wash her there.
She gasped as his strong fingers caressed the swollen tissue, made even slicker by the soap, teasing and tormenting her until she was moving to find release. But he only placed a soft bite on her neck before taking his fingers away, leaving her aching and wanting.
‘Not yet,’ he admonished firmly when she started to turn around. ‘I’m not finished bathing you. I haven’t washed your hair.’ He surprised her by angling her head back slightly and scooping handfuls of warm water over her hair until it was wet, and then adding the soap. He introduced her to a completely new pleasure when he massaged her scalp with his fingers and lingered over the task until her entire scalp tingled with vigour and her entire body pulsed with arousal.
When he had rinsed the soap away, she pulled away abruptly without giving him the chance to stop her. ‘Now. I want you now.’
He chuckled, but it was a husky thing filled with desire, and there was no denying his haste when his hands grabbed her hips to position her so he could mount her from behind.
‘Nay, not like this.’
His hands fumbled, and she looked at him over her shoulder, to see that he was clearly confused. ‘I want you, Eirik. Please.’
A look of wariness temporarily displaced the passion on his features, but he sat back down and gave her a barely perceptible nod. She smiled, triumphant once again, and moved slowly to straddle his thighs. ‘I’ll keep my hands on your shoulders, or the rim of the tub if you prefer.’
‘You can touch me.’ He swallowed once and seemed to be mentally preparing himself. It disturbed her so much that she almost gave in and backed down, but it had become important. She needed to do this, and she sensed that he needed her to do it.
She moved over him, while his hands came up to settle on her hips. She couldn’t resist the urge to let her fingers trace the hard muscles of his chest. But he stiffened and sucked in a breath, so she moved them back to the safety of his shoulders.
‘Why don’t you want me to touch you?’
‘I want you to touch me, Merewyn. But—’ His voice stopped abruptly and he closed his eyes.
She kissed him, and he quickly took control of the kiss and moved his hips so he found her entrance. Then he pressed upwards as she pushed downwards, and they both groaned aloud as he filled her.
After a moment to savour the connection, she moved experimentally up and then back down, her hips moving in a circular motion that made her grind on the way down. The friction that movement caused was amazing. She loved the way her overly sensitive nipples raked across his chest as she moved, but she loved it even more when he took a nipple into the wet heat of his mouth as she rode him. Each suckle sent a white-hot shard of excitement down to where she gripped him.
Water splashed over the edge of the tub unnoticed. Her chest bowed into him and his hands held her hips, squeezing and guiding as she moved. It meant that he was still in control, but she didn’t care. She was still euphoric that he’d let her take the lead, and the thrill of making those erotic, husky sounds come from his throat was heady. She wanted to watch him, to see his face as he released into her, but all too soon the delicate muscles deep inside her began to clench and contract around the iron of his shaft. He knew, because his hands tightened on her hips and he took over, pumping her up and down on him while raising his own hips to take her hard. She cried out, and her fingernails bit into his shoulders when her release found her. His head fell back, the cords of his neck standing out with the strain as his seed filled her.
The room went fuzzy, and she fell heavily against his chest, unconscious of the fact that her hand rested over his heart, until precious moments later when she finally came back to herself. She was afraid to move, afraid to disturb him so that he, too, realised it. The precious organ pounded in a frenzy beneath her palm, until its pace finally returned to normal. But after a while, her fingertips moved of their own accord in the dusting of soft hair beneath them, indulging in the rare opportunity to touch him. He inhaled sharply, but didn’t move. She wanted to look at him, but was afraid she’d see that he was just tolerating her touch, and she thought it might just kill her to see that.
Still, the need to know was too great, and after a moment she dared to look up. He was watching her fingers, but his gaze moved to meet hers, and what she saw there filled her heart with warmth. He was wary, but hopeful.
‘Don’t ever think I don’t want your touch.’ He captured her hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. Then he smiled and caught her chin to hold her steady so his lips could brush across hers. ‘I like you in the bath. I think I’ll let you do this again.’
‘Only if I get to wash your hair.’
He nodded his agreement, and she sat straddling his thighs to wash his hair as tenderly as he had washed hers. She loved to watch his eyes close to savour her touch and the sigh of pleasure that came from his lips. Her gaze flicked with longing to his chest, imagining how it would feel to rub the soap over the sculptured planes and even lower.
Once the bath was finished, he stepped out and grabbed a length of linen before turning to her and beckoning her out of the tub. She felt safe and treasured when he brought it around her shoulders and dried her. When he was done, he surprised her by bringing her cloak around her shoulders, instead of allowing her to dress. Her questioning only caused him to smile wickedly as he pulled on his trousers and boots and then swung her up into his arms.
‘Eirik, it’s snowing! You’ll freeze.’ She looked pointedly at his bare chest and damp hair.
‘It’s just a few steps, and I’ll only undress again in our chamber,’ he teased and kissed her before walking out the door, leaving their clothing behind to be picked up by a servant.
She tried to hide her laughter against his shoulder when he cursed in response to the frigid wind that buffeted them on their way to the house. She was still laughing quietly when they entered through the back way to reach their chamber and he dropped her on the bed and began to remove his boots.
‘You dare to laugh at your master?’ Though the tone was harsh, his eyes were teasing.
She smiled and quickly took off the hated woollen cloak, her skin already itchy from it. ‘I do when he doesn’t have better sense than to go around half-n
aked in a snowstorm.’
‘Then you will pay for your disrespect.’ He’d not taken the time to fasten his trousers, as it was late and by using the back door they were sure not to meet anyone. He quickly pushed them down, and she squealed when he tackled her.
‘Dear God, you’re cold!’ His chest was like ice.
‘You’re not.’ He smiled and made a show of rubbing himself against her.
She squealed again and tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. He grabbed her arms and held them tight to the bed while his hips worked between her thrashing legs. Goose bumps prickled her skin, but she was already beginning to warm from her seemingly unquenchable desire for him.
‘Don’t worry, my sweet girl. I’ll keep you warm all night.’ His voice had lost its teasing quality and was husky with want and need. He looked down at her with those intense blue eyes that made her weak no matter where they were.
He made love to her slowly, his thrusts long and deep, but unhurried. When it was over, he stayed entwined with her, and they both fell into an exhausted sleep. Morning would come soon, bringing with it all the uncertainty they had managed to hold at bay for one more night. But for now, it was still just the two of them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They made love again early the next morning and lay quietly afterwards. The playfulness of the previous night had gone, to be replaced by a fear that neither of them was willing to voice. She lay with her head on his chest, listening to its steady beat beneath her ear as the darkness gave way to streaks of grey that found them through the small smoke hole tucked high beneath the roof. She shivered in foreboding, but he mistook it for cold and pulled the fur tighter around her shoulder. She snuggled into him, hiding her face from the reality of the day ahead.
He gave her a few more minutes, and then kissed her head and gently disentangled himself from her to light candles. At some point that morning, someone had discreetly opened the door and placed a hot pitcher of water just inside. She watched as he retrieved it and took it to the basin, where he trimmed his beard and shaved the bristles that had strayed down his neck. Then he quickly washed and dressed. But he stilled, his back to her and his shoulders heavy as he stood in deep contemplation.
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