“You want more children?” Strian’s hushed tones seemed to amplify his doubt.
“I want as many children as the gods bless us with. I understand now that my body was too battered and weak to grow a healthy babe the first time. I have no reason to doubt I can carry a healthy babe.” Gressa cupped Strian’s cheek. “There is nothing I want more than to be the mother of the children we create together, and there is no other man I would ever accept as the father of my children. I love you, Strian.”
Gressa strained to reach his cheek, and he angled his battered face so she could give him a peck on the cheek. He turned toward her, and despite the blackened and swollen eye and the bruised jaw, he anchored her against him as she opened to him. The kiss held all the passion that always fired between them. Gressa welcomed his tongue into her mouth as it swept the velvet interior, and Strian groaned as he felt his body harden with a need he ignored since before they left the homestead. He was in a permanent state of semi-arousal whenever Gressa was near or he even thought of her. Now, with her body pressed against his, his body urged him to claim her. Relieved they were both alive and together, the soft mewling sounds that escaped her clearly reciprocated Strian’s need to join with Gressa.
“I need you, Strian, but I’m scared that I’ll make your injuries worse.” Gressa murmured against his lips. “I’m even more scared that we might never have the chance to make love again. I haven’t a clue what Grímr will do when he discovers I killed Rhys.”
“Gressa, short of being dead, I will never turn down the chance to make love to you. My need is as strong as yours. Just be careful.” Strian ended with a grin even though it tugged on his bruised cheeks.
Gressa looked around the tent for the first time and spotted a low table and stool along with a bedroll. She led Strian to the stool then pressed his shoulder down to indicate she wanted him to sit. Once he lowered himself on the carved down tree trunk, she sank to her knees and unlaced his trousers. She pulled the opening wide and eased his length free. She watched his eyes as she used lazy strokes. She recognized the expression as one he only ever wore for her. It was a mixture of love, need, reverence, and fascination. She always hoped that her face reflected the same feelings.
“I don’t know that we have much time. I don’t know that they won’t catch us. But if this is the day we are to die, then I will go to my death knowing I didn’t waste another moment with you,” Gressa murmured.
“This might not be the place, but it is the time. Neither of us will meet Odin without sharing our love once more.” Strian cupped her cheek. They both knew making love in their enemy’s camp while awaiting their fate would seem ridiculous to most, but their need for one another had often overcome their common sense.
When a pearl of white viscous liquid formed on the tip of his cock, she licked it away with a long swipe of her tongue before continuing along the ridge until she reached the base. She ran her tongue along him until there was not a spot that had not received her ministrations. She lowered her mouth onto him, consuming all of it, the position giving her the opportunity to take all of him in. Her eyelids floated closed as she hummed, enjoying the taste and feel of her husband and the pleasure she knew she gave him. He combed his fingers through the hair that had come loose from her braid. His fingertips massaging her scalp as she continued to work his length. Strian groaned as his need swelled along with his cock. There were mere wisps of memories of what it had felt like with the women who came before Gressa, but he had known the first time she pleasured him with her mouth, there would never be another woman for him, and no woman had ever made the experience feel so earth shattering.
Gressa pulled away, needing a deep breath as her heart pounded and the ache in her belly made her shift in discomfort. She continued to stroke him as she blew cool air over the head of his sword. Once she was able, she resumed her task, using her hand to continue stroking what she did not suck or lick. She squealed when strong hands tightened around her waist, and she found herself being lifted off the ground. Strian stood with surprising ease and walked with Gressa to the bedroll.
“Put me down! You will hurt yourself even more.” It amazed Gressa that Strian possessed such strength that despite injured ribs. He carried her as though she was little more than a feather.
“I will once we’re at the bedroll.”
Strian stepped next to the meager blanket that would serve as their only bedding. He lowered Gressa to the ground then attacked the lacing of her trousers. He pushed them down her hips before helping her to the ground. He stifled the groan that tried to escape him as he bent at the waist. He knew Gressa would argue with him about making love if she feared she would hurt him. Their protectiveness equaled their craving for one another’s body. Strian kneeled beside her as he took in the taught belly and muscled thighs, a mere teaser of what he knew was hidden beneath her curves. He ran his fingers over the thin white lines that marked her belly just over the thatch of dark curls. He had not recognized them for what they were the first time he made love to her after their return from Scotland. Now he knew they were the evidence that she had once carried their babe.
Gressa watched Strian graze his fingers along the marks she had been nervous about him seeing then embarrassed. Before she had been ready to confess their origin, she had worried he would know what caused them. It still embarrassed her that they marred skin Strian had once claimed was perfect. She captured his fingers, making him stop, but Strian used his other hand to remove hers.
“Let me look. Please,” he beseeched. “I wasn’t there. This is all I have from a time stolen from us. From the time as a family we lost.”
Strian lowered his lips to her stomach and smattered kisses over the scars. Gressa ran her fingers through his hair as it brushed against and tickled her skin. Strian pushed her vest and tunic higher until he could slide his hand up to her breast. He massaged the flesh that felt fuller and heavier as Gressa’s need enveloped her. She became restless with a need to take his sword into her sheath.
“I know, my love. Soon.” Strian reassured as his lips scorched a trail from her belly up to her breasts. He took his turn laving and suckling her heated flesh. He felt her nipple tighten to a dart as his tongue swirled around the darker skin surrounding her nipple. His other hand teased her as it drew circles around her other nipple, bringing that one to a puckered head. He blew cool air over the wet skin before he switched his attention to the neglected nipple. He lowered his body over hers. Her pants kept her from opening her legs wide, but her knees cradled his thighs as he thrust into her.
Their sounds of relief as their bodies fused together filled the tent, neither caring if everyone in the camp knew what husband and wife were doing. Strian used their limited ability to move, trapped by their clothes, to rock against Gressa, pressing as deeply as he could. Gressa gripped his backside, her nails biting into the taut skin. She marveled at how even his buttocks was chiseled muscle. She buried her face in his neck, muffling her moans. She nipped at the skin, unworried about leaving marks. Strian used one arm to brace himself as the other clenched around her hip.
“I’m scared I will hurt you,” Gressa whispered. “It might feel good now, but what about later?”
“It feels a far sight better than just ‘good.’ My body, as well as my mind and heart, know what it needs. It needs you. It needs to be buried to the hilt, swallowed by your satin skin until I spill my seed into you and I feel as though Valhalla’s doors are open to me.”
Gressa moaned again, the sensations within her core colliding with the arousal his words fueled. She and Strian had discovered early in their relationship, even before they married, that they enjoyed hearing one another describe their need and what they wanted.
“Then don’t stop. I’m so close. Always so close too soon.” Gressa now panted as she felt the beginnings of her release blossom. She shifted and ground her mons against Strian’s pelvis. With her head flung back, the cords of her throat called to Strian. He kissed along her neck until he came to the sensitive skin behind her ear.
“I will push you over the edge as I grind my cock into you. Gods, Gressa. You’re so tight I can’t wait much longer. I need to finish. I feel like my body is about to explode. All because of you. You do this for me.”
“Then don’t wait. I want to feel your release inside of me as my body clings to yours. You’re so deep,” A moan interrupted Gressa as it pushed its way out from deep within her chest. Her climax consuming her.
“So big,” were the last words she managed as before his name spilled out on another long moan. Strian felt her inner muscles tighten around him, wringing the seed from him. He thrust as hard as he could thrice before going rigid. The extra force carried Gressa into a second release, the first ending moments before the next one seized her. Her back arched off the ground as she whimpered, frustrated that her ongoing pleasure beginning to wane.
Strian slid his arms beneath her, clutching her against him as he held her. He kissed her temple as he, too, came down from the high of their love making. Gressa clung to him, her inner muscles refusing to let go just as her arms pressed him chest to chest with her.
“Shh, my love. I feel the same. I never want to stop, never let you go,” Strian soothed.
Gressa’s belly and inner muscles contracted as she curled upward to kiss Strian’s neck just as he had done to her moments before. Strian groaned as his cock twitched, demanding he continue moving within.
A long, languid kiss stole their words as they rocked together until each of them found pleasure once more. When they could no longer delay putting their clothes back in place, voices too close to their tent to keep their love making private, Strian withdrew.
“I hate that part,” Strian grumbled.
