‘It is probably nothing.’ Ceanna told him what she’d learnt about the sons of King Aed. She was aware that her voice was picking up speed, but she couldn’t slow down. Her words came to an abrupt shuddering halt at his incredulous expression. ‘You know what this means. What I must do.’
‘Are you asking to go back to Dun Ollaigh? We married to keep you from that place. You return there and you will die. We both will. Shall we annul this marriage so that you can return? It would give your aunt no end of pleasure.’
Ceanna wrapped her arms about her middle. She had done it wrong already. He was disappointed with her and the marriage had not yet truly begun. She had to try harder or her aunt would inspect the sheet in the morning and discover that Ceanna remained a maid. But confessing this might mean he made love to her out of pity and she most definitely did not want that. She slowly shook her head. ‘I want to be married to you. I choose that.’
He lifted her chin so that she looked into the shifting colours of his eyes. A woman could drown in those eyes. ‘Good. Then let us stop seeking reasons why you should go back to Dun Ollaigh. We have other things to do that are more important right now.’
She licked her parched lips. ‘Enlighten me.’
‘I came in here with seduction on my mind.’ He ran his hands down her arms. ‘I told you once that we go at your pace, not mine. I want you to enjoy yourself. It increases my pleasure.’
‘I thought we had agreed to be friends rather than lovers.’ She retreated a step away from the enticing touch of his hand. The bed dug into the back of her legs. Her aunt’s warnings about men and their ravenous appetites came back to her. While the older woman had been speaking, Ceanna had decided she wanted to be someone who enjoyed such things, rather than someone who lay there and endured.
‘We’re married now.’ He crossed the room to her. He shed his tunic and stood in the flickering light from the rush lamps. ‘I don’t have to worry about ruining your chances of becoming a holy maid. Destroying your future. I want you to have a future, Ceanna. I want you to live. It is why I married you.’
‘That’s what stopped you before? At Mildreth’s—’
He gathered a strand of hair. ‘Your hair falls like a cloud about your face.’
‘My aunt gave me a list of instructions about how to be a bride in our marriage bed. We are supposed to pray first, but I am not certain how effective that will be.’ Her voice had become less than a reed singing in the wind. She swallowed hard and tried again. ‘I don’t know what to do so you will have to show me.’
He cupped her face with his long fingers and lowered his mouth. ‘Trust your instincts, Skadi, not your aunt.’
The use of her nickname calmed her. His lips met hers and she gave herself up to his kiss. Their tongues met, touched and tangled. The warmth in her belly ignited, infusing her.
He gently eased her back against the soft bedcoverings.
He ran a finger down the side of her face, sending tingles through her. ‘Shall I blow the lamps out?’ he asked.
Slowly she shook her head. ‘I like looking at you.’
He gave a very husky laugh. ‘I bear scars.’
She traced several of the silver scars on his chest. There was one particularly vicious one near his heart. Her hand ran over its almost unnatural silky smoothness. ‘How?’
‘Someone wanted me dead in Constantinople. I objected.’
‘I am glad you did.’ She ran her hands further down his chest, encountering his nipples which hardened to points under the pads of her fingers.
He caught her questing hands and held them above her head. His tongue nuzzled circles on her neck, making her writhe under him. A hard bulge pressed between her thighs. Her thin gown had become plastered against her body, leaving little to the imagination.
‘Tell me you crave this.’ He gently bit her earlobe and the heat surged between her thighs, making her slick. Her body arched upwards towards the bulge. ‘Tell me that your dreams have been full of me, like mine have been full of you.’
‘I... I...thought you were not interested,’ she admitted.
The admission earned her a quick kiss and a laugh. ‘You have much to learn about men, Skadi, particularly me. I’ve been hot for you since the day we met.’ He tugged at her shift. ‘May I? I’ve imagined you like this.’
She nodded, scarcely able to speak. His hands gently removed the garment so that her naked body was open to his gaze in the faltering light. She instinctively tried to hide her breasts with her hands, but he shook his head.
‘There is no need to hide from me, Skadi. I have long wanted to feast on your beauty.’
‘My beauty?’
He ran gentle fingers down her side. ‘You are more desirable than I ever imagined.’
He bent his head and took a nipple in his mouth. His tongue went round and round its point until a sharp stab of heat radiated out through her. Her body arched upwards, seeking his touch. She made a mewling noise in the back of her throat as she fought to remain still.
He lifted his head and gave a very masculine laugh. ‘Do you like this? You must say something if you don’t. Your pleasure is mine.’
‘I’ve never—’ she said. ‘That is to say—everyone said I must lie completely still, never moving.’
‘They are wrong. Do what your body tells you to.’
She touched her tongue to her bottom lip. ‘I’ve never done this before.’
He pushed the hair back from her forehead. ‘I know. It means I have a great responsibly to ensure you enjoy this.’
‘You are staying dressed?’
‘For now. I don’t want this to be over before it truly begins.’ He put a finger against her lips. ‘Let me feast. Please.’
Despite his words, she resolved to lie still until she worked out what to do. His probing mouth made the flames fan higher. She gripped his shoulders before tangling her hands in his hair and holding him against her breast. A deep shuddering went through her.
He raised his head and looked at her.
‘Is that everything?’ she whispered.
‘No, there is more. Much more.’ He placed kisses down her skin. His mouth moved inexorably lower to the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. He slipped a finger in between her thighs, stroked, round and round, sometimes slipping into that place within her. Each time he did that the warm heat within her grew. Her thighs parted. He placed his palm against her while his fingers danced against her secret place.
Her body arched upwards again. The heat which had been growing again within her exploded. And she knew she craved more than his fingers there.
‘Please.’
He took off his trousers, allowing his rampant manhood to spring free. He was far larger than she’d considered.
‘See how I want you,’ he growled in her ear. ‘Touch me. Hold me.’
She closed her hand around his hot silken hardness. He groaned deep in his throat. ‘Put me where you want me. Hurry.’
Instinctively she guided him to between her thighs, to her secret place which ached for his most intimate touch.
He sighed in the back of his throat as his tip nudged her, making the heat ripple through her again.
‘I’m sorry, Ceanna, but this will hurt,’ he said against her ear.
She nodded, unable to speak. Her stepmother and aunt had both emphasised the pain, but neither of them had spoken about the pleasure infusing her body. The brief intense pain caused her to sharply gasp. But her body opened and the pain subsided, as if it had never been.
‘Hush.’ He kissed the side of her temple. He lay completely still, embedded within her. Her hips began to move with a primitive rhythm. He answered her tentative movement and the wondrous heat filled her again, engulfing her.
At her joyous cry, he gave a great shudder and drove deeper.
When she came back to ear
th, she found he was looking at her as the rush lamp gave out its final glimmer of light.
He smoothed the damp tendrils of hair from her forehead. ‘I’m sorry. It is never very good the first time.’
‘You mean it gets better than this?’
He rolled off her and laughed, making the bed shake. ‘You always surprise me, Skadi.’
He quickly left and the air cooled. In a heartbeat he was back beside her.
‘This will help.’
He placed a cool cloth between her thighs and gently cleaned her. The coolness contrasted with the earlier heat and soothed the faint stinging sensation.
‘It will make it easier to sleep,’ he said.
He retrieved her shift and helped her to pull it over her head.
‘Is that all?’ she asked unable to keep the plaintive note out of her voice.
‘We have had a long day,’ he said, settling down next to her and pulling her into the circle of his arms. She laid her head on his chest and heard the steady thump of his heart. ‘I want do this again, but you need time to recover. You have used new muscles.’
Do it again. Ceanna hugged the words to her and wriggled her toes. Her body had a lovely floating feeling as if she were on a cloud and her mind started to spin dreams. ‘That would be very pleasant indeed.’
* * *
Sandulf lay in the dark and listened to the sound of Ceanna sleeping softly and the gentle snores of her wolfhound. The depth of feeling that ran through him both surprised and worried him.
Every other time he had joined with a woman, he had been looking to find a way to end the encounter, but with Ceanna, he knew he would never tire of her. Perhaps that was a good thing, given she was his wife. Despite knowing that her body needed time to recover, the ache had already grown within him.
He started to understand Brandt’s howling grief at Ingrid’s death. Had his older brother felt this way about his wife? Wanting her in all ways? And what morning gift could he offer his new wife? He had nothing but what he carried in his pack. It needed to be something which would mean, if anything happened to him, she wouldn’t starve.
It wouldn’t be anything like the golden gift his father had arranged for Ingrid, a token of the family’s affection he proclaimed in his booming voice when the couple had finally emerged from their seclusion. His mother had rolled her eyes and mentioned it should be the groom who gives the gift, not the father-in-law and that once again Sigurd had to be at the centre of things. Sandulf remembered Brandt glowering at the golden Valkyrie pendant, but Ingrid had accepted it graciously. One of the last things he remembered about his father was him bellowing at Ingrid to wear her golden Valkyrie and be sharp about it, not to disgrace the family.
Sandulf frowned and tightened his hold on Ceanna’s slumbering form. From what he could recall it had not been found on Ingrid’s body. But that was a mystery for another day.
All he knew was that he wanted to protect Ceanna in a way that he never had for any woman before and it frightened him. He had begun to depend on her. He knew the danger they faced—and how quickly a beloved wife could be ripped away—and Ceanna had only begun to guess at it. If he could do one thing, it would be to keep her in ignorance of the evil he faced and to keep her well away from any danger. But his quest was leading him towards danger. He had no idea how to keep her safe and keep her with him at the same time. And he had no one he could trust to help him.
Ceanna gave a small whimper in her sleep as if something distressed her. Sandulf instantly drew her tighter into his arms. ‘What is wrong?’
Her sleep-filled eyes opened. ‘Stay with me. Always.’
‘I’m here.’
She snuggled closer. ‘Good. I like you being here with me.’
She could have little idea what she was asking. He knew what was coming, who he’d have to meet. She needed to stay elsewhere. Safe.
Rurik and his new wife might take her in, or he could go cap in hand to his middle brother, Alarr, in Éireann. Rurik said that he’d done well and was now a king or on the verge of becoming a king. Surely Alarr would not refuse his request to look after his wife while he pursued Lugh. His gut twisted. He wanted to be with Ceanna and see her smile. He wanted to wake up with her in his arms.
‘I will keep you safe, Ceanna,’ he whispered. ‘That is the most important thing.’
Chapter Eleven
Ceanna woke to sunlight streaming into the room. Her head rested on Sandulf’s chest. She lay and listened to his heartbeat. She should be happy. This was something that she had never considered could happen to her—waking in the arms of a handsome husband with a bright future ahead of them. Except, like a maggot uncurling from an otherwise perfect apple, the thought was doomed, an illusion like the heroes she used to dream up. She had about as much chance of keeping a man like Sandulf happy and contented as she did being able to catch the sunbeam which highlighted his stubble against her fingers.
She raised her hand. His arms immediately tightened.
‘Good morning, sleepyhead,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Once again, you failed to wake before me.’
‘You rarely sleep.’
‘I might make an exception if you promise to stay in my arms every night.’
She basked in the nonsensical lovers’ talk. Ceanna levered her elbow against his chest in order to sit up. He made no effort to hold her. ‘Have you been awake long?’
‘Long enough.’ He gestured. ‘Vanora would like her second breakfast, but I could stay here all day.’
‘She has already had her first one?’
‘I took her out earlier, but you slept through it and, when I returned, you looked so delectable that I couldn’t resist getting back in bed with you and waiting until you woke.’
Her face flamed and she said with embarrassment, ‘I dare say my aunt will want to inspect the sheets to ensure we are properly married. She mentioned something about it as she left last night.’
‘At least she waited until we are ready.’
She swung her legs over the bed and muscles she didn’t know she had until that instant protested. She collapsed back against him. ‘I ache all over.’
His laugh rumbled against her ear. ‘Is that a problem? My brother Brandt took three full days before he emerged with Ingrid.’
‘Our marriage is different. We need to find this Lugh before he strikes again. We have little time to waste.’
‘Yes, I do need to find him.’
There was no mistaking the word I rather than the we she’d expected to hear. Ceanna tightened her jaw.
He reached behind him and held out a golden arm ring. ‘For you as the morning gift. It will have to do for now.’
‘My morning gift?’
All laughter vanished from his eyes. ‘If something happens to me, I’ll not have you starve. I’ll not have you abandoned without anything. It is what men in my family do—look after their brides. I had it made after my first successful voyage. The other one I wear belonged to Lugh. I grew tired of explaining why I only wore one arm ring.’
Ceanna hated the finality of his words. She stared at the intricately marked arm ring. He was going to find an excuse to leave her behind, claiming that it was for her own safety. No one could force her to return to Dun Ollaigh, he’d say. He had kept that side of their bargain, but she was determined to have more. She would demonstrate to him that she was an equal partner in this relationship. Indispensable. She rolled the word around on her tongue. A good word, a word to aspire to, rather than concentrating on the forgettable woman she knew she was. She took the arm ring and put it beside her on the pillow. ‘Thank you. I will treasure it.’
‘My pleasure.’
At his questioning look, she cleared her throat and started on her ‘Make Ceanna Indispensable to Sandulf’ scheme. ‘I thought to ask my aunt if I could inspect the rolls. There might be something there about B
rother Mattios—the monk who suddenly left when he heard a Northman was coming.’
‘You seem obsessed by this Brother Mattios and those missing children. Your aunt has given her assurance that he is bona fide, a valuable member of Jarrow before coming here.’ Sandulf put his hands on the top of his head as if that ended the discussion. ‘I can’t believe my sister-in-law Annis lied to me, but she may have misheard the rumour about Lugh’s intentions. She’d little liking for the man. It could be there are more clues in Glannoventa which she and Rurik are unaware of. We start towards there tomorrow, due south to avoid Dun Ollaigh.’
‘What if Brother Mattios actually feared you? What if he used the children as an excuse to get away from the Northern assassin who was coming here?’ she asked, ignoring the little flip her heart did that Sandulf’s immediate plans included them both.
‘Or what if they were his real target?’ Sandulf asked softly.
‘He has been here for eighteen months. I doubt anyone plans that far in the future. He seized an opportunity.’ She balled her fists and hit the bedclothes. ‘I know he isn’t genuine, deep inside me.’
His fingers tightened about hers and he raised them to his lips. ‘It is good that you are so passionate. If you are frightened of travelling south because of the rivers, there may be another way for our marriage to proceed.’
‘Another way.’ Her throat closed. What had passed between them last night meant everything to her and nothing to him. He had given her protection and the means to buy a future for a little while. She eyed the arm ring with increased distaste. It was what she got for wanting to believe in heroes again. She swallowed the large lump which was forming in her throat. ‘What other way?’
‘You remain here and I’ll return when I can. You are a married woman now. Your aunt will not have any cause to send you back. If you prefer, you could go to Mother Mildreth and live with her. Leave word which you decide if you remain undecided by the time I depart.’
Ceanna resisted the urge to throw the arm ring against the wall. Her plan to be indispensable was an unmitigated failure. How could she prove he needed her if they were apart? ‘But why can’t I be by your side? I can cross any river or ocean that you want if we are together.’
Conveniently Wed to the Viking Page 16
