Passion's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 3) Page 10

  “Captain Thorolf,” Birger said, “This is Tage, the man in charge of the night watch.”

  Thorolf acknowledged the soldier. “Where is your superior?”

  “Asleep, Sir.”

  “And Lady Runa?”

  The warrior eyed him suspiciously then. “I was given specific orders. No one is to disturb her. She’s in deep mourning.”

  “I understand,” Thorolf said. “Much life was lost here. Good men. But I assure you, the lady will want to see me.”

  Birger whispered something to Tage and then the younger man’s features lit up.

  “You are the Captain Thorolf she weeps for?”

  “Aye.”

  “By everything sacred,” he said in awe and pointed toward an area sheltered on three sides by trees. “She occupies that lone tent.”

  A part of Thorolf wanted to scream her name and go running to the tent. But logic overruled his unravelling emotions. He’d spent too many years denying himself pleasure—beating down the feelings that made any warrior a real man. Not just flesh and blood, but heart.

  “Do you have any mead? Wine?” Thorolf asked.

  “Yes.” Tage hurried a few feet away to where he’d been sitting and picked up a wineskin. He brought it back to Thorolf. “Take mine.”

  Grateful, Thorolf uncorked it and took a generous swig. “Has the lady eaten anything?”

  “No,” Tage answered. “Captain Harald is concerned about her lack of appetite.”

  “Give me some bread. I will convince her to eat.” Thorolf turned to Birger. “Keep watch with this capable soldier. Encourage the others to rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Aye,” Birger bowed.

  Carrying a sack of bread and the wineskin, Thorolf slowly made his way to Runa’s shelter. He paused outside the opening to listen for any noise. Nothing. And there was no light visible along the seams of the flap. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep. No matter, nothing would keep him from laying eyes on her.

  He stepped inside, finding a single candle lit on a crate in the corner. The sound of steady breathing calmed his nerves, for he needed to see and hear she was all right, really alive. He dropped the bread and wineskin on the ground and approached her pallet. Curled on her left side, facing away from him, wisps of dark hair covered her face. He reached for her cheek, gently moving the curls out of the way. Her pale skin glimmered in the candlelight, flawless and so temptingly touchable. Kissable.

  Kneeling beside her, Thorolf watched in fascination. How could any woman get more beautiful? Only Runa.

  “I am here, pretty one,” he whispered. “Shed no more tears for me. Banish the nightmares. Stop blaming yourself for taking my counsel to heart. Blame me for your misfortune.”

  Unable to resist the need to make contact with her soft-looking flesh, he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, closing his eyes as he did. He flinched. Love and lust shot through him, mingling, and robbing him of logic. “One touch always leads to another.”

  He retreated, fearing the effect of a second touch.

  “You’re a ghost to me,” he murmured as he helped himself to another measure of mead. “You haunted me, Lady. Made it impossible to sleep. I feared for your life at the hands of Skrymir. But I promise you this, Lady Runa…”

  He paused as she stirred and rolled onto her back.

  “Skrymir will die for what he’s done. And if I fail to deliver his head to you, then I will die for not keeping this oath.” He unsheathed his knife and dragged it across his palm. “My blood seals this promise between me, you, and the gods.”

  “Captain Thorolf?” her soft voice sounded. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

  Thorolf looked up and found Runa on her hands and knees, staring at him.

  “Tell me, now,” she demanded.

  “This is no dream. I am here.”

  She cried out. “Odin saved you.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Prince Axel told me to run. I didn’t want to leave you, Thorolf. Please forgive my cowardice. I-I…”

  “Cowardice?” He jumped to his feet, angry she’d ever consider herself weak. “You are just the opposite, Lady.”

  “Skrymir poisoned most of the men. Others were put to the sword. We cremated the bodies as soon as we got here, Thorolf. Someone moved them…”

  “Twas me.” He took a step closer.

  “How did you escape?”

  “I didn’t. I woke in pain, remembering the jarl kicking me in the ribs and that someone bashed me in the back of the head. Twice I think.” He rubbed the back of his skull, the sizable lump reminding him of his near lethal mistake. “I must beg your forgiveness, Lady Runa.”

  “F-for what?” Her eyes grew wide.

  “I let jealousy blind me for the first time in my life.” He held her questioning gaze as he dropped to his knees before her. “There is no excuse for my behavior.” He bowed his head in submission, as any soldier must do if he failed his master. “Punish me as you see fit.”

  A little out of breath, she kneeled before him, lifting his chin. Their gazes met and he couldn’t help but admire the deep green of her eyes. “Tis I who must beg forgiveness, Captain Thorolf. I lied to my family, manipulated the good prince, and flaunted everything in front of you without a care for how you felt.”

  “And how do I feel, Lady?”

  She adverted her eyes, staring at the floor. “I believe you love me, Thorolf.”

  As soon as she’d spoken those words, something broke inside him. He gathered her in his arms and lifted her to her feet. “Do you know what you say?”

  “Do you?” Her hands started to shake.

  By the gods… She welcomed his love? Wanted it? “Do not toy with my heart, Runa. I am nothing like the men your brother summoned to the Trondelag. I won’t tolerate you flirting with another man. Or pretending to love one.”

  She stiffened. “Is that a threat?”

  “Only truth.”

  “Thorolf…”

  No more words were needed. He’d grown tired of waiting and tugged her into his arms, cradling her warm, soft body against his. Her sweet scent danced around him, feeding his need to possess her. Those lips. Her fathomless eyes. The feel of her tiny hands on his arms. He slanted his mouth over hers, forcing her lips open with his tongue, tasting what he’d considered his all along. Enjoying the velvety feel of her tongue sliding over his, tangling his heart in a web of lust and love.

  The forbidden had been taken. The untouchable, caressed a thousand times in his thoughts and dreams. To Hel with Jarl Roald, Prince Axel, Jarl Skrymir, and any other man that would dare lay claim to her.

  Lady Runa belonged to him now.

  He pushed her away then, needing to put some distance between them before he did something they’d both regret later. But her heated look said something different. Thorolf recognized deep hunger when he saw it.

  “Why did you stop?” she demanded.

  He rubbed his chin, eyeing her kiss-swollen lips—proof of where he’d been seconds earlier. Then his gaze dipped lower, naturally drawn to the outline of her pebble-hard nipples protruding through the thin material of her shift. Not noticing her state of undress before, he realized even her ankles and small feet were visible. Slim ankles at that.

  “Stop ogling me like a hungry dog, Captain Thorolf, and tell me how you feel.”

  “I’d rather show you,” he growled, circling her. “Haven’t enough men told you pretty lies? Begged for your heart?”

  “Remember your place, Captain,” she said, her confidence restored.

  “And where is that, Lady Runa?”

  She folded her hands over her stomach, then released them, only to do it again.

  “Have you no answer?”

  “I can’t think clearly with you staring at me so intensely.”

  “Tell me my place.” He tipped her chin, admiring the haughty look on her pretty face.

  “I-I…”

  “Shall I help you, Lady, by telling you where you belong?” His body beg
ged for relief.

  “Aye.”

  Thorolf rewarded her with a wicked grin and swept her off her feet as she gasped in shock. “Beneath me, Runa. That’s where you belong, now and forever.” He carried her to the narrow mattress on the ground and spread her out.

  He unfastened his sword belt, letting it fall on the ground, then stripped his clothes and boots off with a fury he’d never known. Lowering himself gently on top of her, he lifted her arms above her head, once again claiming that sharp tongue with his mouth. He’d give her every reason to love and respect him, to call him lord. To reject every other man that came her way.

  She shifted underneath him, spreading her legs wide enough for his body to fit comfortably between them. The only thing stopping him from sinking deep inside her was the linen shift she wore. Miserable little piece of cloth. Still holding her wrists in place above her head with one hand, he reached for the laces on her bodice. With a rough tug, he snapped the leather string and the material sagged open, revealing the generous curves of her full breasts.

  Runa sucked in a breath, then arched her spine in welcome. “Kiss me.”

  “Aye,” he said. “I will do more than that.” He released her hands and slid down her body, level with her chest. Opening the top of her shift more, a pert breast popped out and he caught the nipple between his teeth and nibbled and licked it. “You are perfect in every way,” he praised her, his cock ready to burst. “And mine now…”

  She dug her fingernails into the sides of his head, squirming and begging. “Please,” she panted. “Touch me all over.”

  Thorolf started at her toes, tasting and caressing every inch of her flesh, lifting the hem of her shift above her thighs as he climbed higher and higher. Until both of her beautiful breasts were exposed and cradled in his palms.

  “The spot between my legs is throbbing,” she said. “Why?”

  With care, Thorolf slipped two fingers inside her core, greeted by wet heat. He gritted his teeth as he slid in and out, silently willing her to come. “The first lesson of many,” he said, burying his face between her luscious thighs, loving the feel of her soft nest of black curls rubbing against his chin.

  Within seconds she went rigid, the pulse of her satisfaction against his tongue, proof enough that he could please her body and, one day, rule her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Enveloped in Thorolf’s strong embrace, Runa wondered why he’d done everything to her but the final act that made a man and woman one. She’d been too nervous to ask just after he finished showing her how to caress his manhood properly. And it slipped her mind as she explored his perfectly muscled body with her hands and tongue, trying to mimic the pleasurable caresses and nibbles he’d done to her. Proud she’d only made him wince in pain once as she bit his thigh too hard, the real satisfaction came when he released his seed in her hands.

  “Go to sleep, Runa,” he said. “There is much to be done in the morning.”

  “How can I sleep after what we shared?”

  He flipped her onto her back and balanced himself on his elbows. “I won’t despoil you for a night of passion, Runa. It goes against everything I believe in, the way I live my life.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide?” Despite bold words, she could feel the flush creeping up her cheeks.

  “What experience do you have in the ways of sex and love?”

  She clicked her tongue. “I have a heart, don’t I?”

  “Aye, there is that.”

  “Then why deny me the chance to give you my most precious gift?”

  Thorolf repositioned himself on his side, resting his head against his palm. He fingered a long strand of her hair. “Your brother will try to kill me once he discovers our relationship.”

  She sat up, shaking her head. “I won’t let him.”

  “Listen to me, Runa. He entrusted me with your life. Instead of delivering you safely to Prince Axel’s home, we were attacked, our men killed, and now I’ve bedded you—well, almost bedded you. Undeniable betrayal.”

  “You sound as if you regret it.” It pained her to think so, because she’d given Thorolf everything she had inside her a few hours ago. Her fingers had become an extension of her heart once she began touching and kissing him.

  He entwined his fingers with hers and lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing it. “Never. How can you even suggest it, Lady?”

  “Because your words and actions do not match. I felt your love, but I cannot see it. You still haven’t told me how you feel.”

  He sighed and released her hand. “Do you think it’s easy for a man to speak from the heart? I’d rather face Thor on the battlefield.”

  “Then let me.”

  “No.” He held a finger to her lips to shush her.

  “So you’d even rob me of the right to confess my love?”

  “I’d not have you admit to anything you’d soon regret. I am a man without a home. No lands. No family. No title. What kind of husband will I be? Not the sort your brother will ever approve of.”

  Runa crossed her arms over her chest, still confused by the sudden change in Thorolf’s attitude. “I care nothing for wealth. I’d rather have your mind and heart. Your love, Captain Thorolf. I adore and love you.” There, she’d said it.

  A distant look darkened his features then.

  “It is too late to worry about your lack of a title, Thorolf. How could I ever give myself to another man after what we’ve done?”

  “Another man will never have you, Runa. Not as long as there is breath left in my body. Or faith in the gods in my heart. You want to hear love words from a broken man? I will speak the truth, always. I’ve loved you from the first day we met in the great hall. Though I thought you self-indulgent and unmanageable, I wanted to be near you, to see the flames of passion in your eyes. That’s how you know someone is truly alive. And you, above all others, are truly alive. Even now, suffering from the guilt and loss of those men, the fire burns even brighter inside you. Heat radiates from your tiny body like it does from the sun.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “Yes, Runa. I want you to wife. To be the mother of my children. I love you.” He sat up and pulled her into the most intimate hug.

  In his arms, nothing could harm her. Even Roald seemed too far away to influence her life. Thorolf might not possess lands or great wealth, but he owned Runa’s heart. Together, they could carve out their own future, perhaps purchase enough land to farm and comfortably support a family. She had gold and silver saved, gifts from her mother and a small inheritance from her father.

  “Listen to me, Lady.” Thorolf held her away from his body. “There’s grave danger everywhere right now. Skrymir didn’t slaughter these men for nothing. He wants you, I’m sure of it. If he finds out about us, he’ll use our love as a weapon against us. We must keep our feelings secret for now. Until I’ve captured and killed the bastard. Then I will go to your brother and ask for your hand in marriage.”

  “I don’t want to hide from the world, Thorolf.”

  “Only for a short time. I promise.”

  She nodded, reluctant to agree, but left with no choice. Thorolf wasn’t the kind of man to be denied. “How many children do you want?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Not as many as Prince Axel,” he teased.

  Dear gods … the man’s mother bore fifteen babes and had survived. “Thank you for your consideration.”

  He chuckled. “Four or five will do nicely.”

  “If that is the case, Sir, shouldn’t you show me how children are made?”

  His brows shot up. “You really don’t know?”

  “I have an idea, but have never confirmed it.”

  He raked his fingers through his shoulder-length blond hair. “You know how to push a man beyond his limits, Runa.”

  She shot an admiring look between his legs, his manhood standing at full attention again. Had it ever stopped? The sight of it, how firm and thick it was, knowing even if sh
e lined her two hands up along its length, it wasn’t enough to contain him. And that was supposed to fit inside her? She shivered.

  “Runa?”

  She peeked up at him.

  “You know more than you wish to tell.”

  She shook her head. “Just what I dream of with you.”

  He growled at her words, propelling closer to her. “Do you need another lesson?”

  “I need you.”

  With no warning, he lifted her onto his stomach as he laid back on the pallet. “Straddle me, Runa. Get on all fours and slide upward, until your center is hovering above my mouth.”

  She froze, stuck inside her imagination trying to picture the position he wanted her to get in. What did he intend to do with her? The possibilities were endless. Wetness pooled between her thighs and that dull ache had returned.

  “Runa?”

  She did as he asked, determined to please him in every way.

  Rocking forward on her elbows, arse bobbing in the air, Thorolf gripped her thighs and urged her lower. She cried out as his tongue slipped between her slick folds, followed by his fingers. Odin have mercy… His tongue circled over her hard nub. Sensations shot up her spine, almost too intense to enjoy. But then he did something incredible with his fingers that eased the feeling and brought her spiraling down, into a more comfortable place.

  She rode his face like a longship on ocean waves, rolling her hips over him until his tongue triggered that endless pulsing that made her lose her breath and scream out his name.

  After, she lay motionless on top of him, wishing for more.

  “There are many things we can do without sacrificing your maidenhead before we are wed.”

  Those many things seemed to favor her more than him. “I want to make you happy, too, Thorolf. Don’t you need to be touched like I do?”

  “Captain Thorolf?”

  Runa scrambled off Thorolf, searching for a loose fur to cover herself with. The captain jumped up, roaring in anger.