“We’re sitting,” she corrected.
She led him to a spot not far from their holding. Only a short way down the path into town, the track veered sharply, leading to a clifftop that overlooked the harbor. It afforded an unimpeded view of the ships below them and the sea beyond. She and Sitric both enjoyed going there from time to time.
Cormac laid the blankets on the ground, sitting on them and reaching for her with both arms—a clear invitation for her to sit in his lap. Against her better judgment, she accepted. She leaned against his hard body, soaking up the warmth.
“My brother and I both like it here,” she mumbled, desperately trying to break the tension that grew between them.
“I can see why,” he whispered back. The heat from his breath washed over her ear and tickled her neck. “It’s beautiful. And thank you for coming to my rescue again earlier,” he added, his chin settling on her shoulder.
“It’s the least I could do. You’ve been coming to my rescue for weeks now, and I didn’t realize until today just how much you risked to do so.”
His arms squeezed tighter around her, pulling her into the warmth of his chest. She leaned her head back, letting herself enjoy the closeness.
A light appeared on the horizon, at the far edge of this inky sky. A green streak, the color of saplings in spring, flashed from it, dancing like a serpent. The light cracked overhead again, this time reaching further, a flame sputtering atop a candle. A second light appeared beside it, this one stronger. As it reached toward them across the darkness, it changed from an eerie green to the same blushing pink as an autumn apple. The two lights danced above them like waves in the sky.
“I’ve not seen them since I was a boy still living in the north,” Cormac whispered, his voice filled with awe.
“They don’t visit us often here, but whenever a night is clear and cold, I try to go out and check.”
“What do you think they are?”
His question didn’t surprise her in the least, given his pensive nature. “My parents told me they’re the spirits of our ancestors fighting battles of old.”
“They don’t get to rest when they die?”
The shock in his voice made her chuckle. “Is that what you’d really want? To do nothing forever?” She felt his shoulders shrug behind her, his arms somehow wrapping her even tighter.
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he replied. The smile in his voice coaxed out one of her own. “What do you call them?”
“Norðrljós. The Northern Lights.”
His lips brushed the bare skin of her neck. “And what do you call this?”
“Hals,” she breathed, tilting her head to allow him better access.
“Mmm.” The low hum vibrated against her collarbone. He pushed her dress off her shoulder, his soft lips following. “And this?”
She leaned against him, pressing as hard as she could. “Djarfr,” she smiled. “Which means bold.”
He stilled. “Too bold?”
Astrid turned in his lap, facing him. She felt possessed by some sort of spirit, hardly able to breathe let alone think. She didn’tknowanything—shefelteverything. Her hands ran down the broad lines of his shoulders, his chest. “Maybe not bold enough.”
He pulled her lips to his with a hungry growl. Their kiss yesterday had been passionate. This kiss was explosive.
It ignited a fire that left her throbbing and dizzy. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt, her fingers following the hard planes of his body downward to the hem of his trews.
He inhaled sharply, his eyes clouding over. With painful slowness, he unfastened her dress. His gaze raked over her, scorching, before he devoured her lips once more.
The air bit her naked skin. She shivered at the shock of the cold, but she was too far gone to stop now. She ached for him. She needed him. She wanted him. Her hand grasped the hard length between them, exploring.
Cormac groaned, a deep, throaty sound that only made her shiver more—this time, though, it wasn’t from cold. He braced them with his arms, laying her back on the blanket and covering her with his body. His hands caressed her legs, bunching her dress toward her waist as he found the part of her that ached for him.
His fingers circled and teased, until Astrid squirmed in frustration. Then he sank them inside her.
Astrid gasped at the sensation, the delicious pressure. For a moment she thought that would be it. Then he moved. And all she wanted wasmore. “Cormac,” she breathed.
In response, his hand continued its work and his lips found her nipples. Sucking, nipping, working her into a need so desperate she would do anything to have it filled.
