He closed his eyes, caught between desire and responsibility. The man she wanted was someone else, a Viking warrior whose life had been switched with his. He wanted to tell her that he was a stranger, that he had no right to be with her.
“What if I want you to take away my memories of the attack?” she continued. “What if you could make me no longer afraid?”
“You deserve a better man than me, Katarina.”
She moved her hips beneath his, and the unexpected motion sent a bolt of heat within him. But she clung to him, biting her lip with her own needs.
“Thevolvaanointed me,” she murmured. “The spices within the oil are driving me toward madness. Every part of my skin is aching for your touch.”
It was something he hadn’t anticipated, but now it made sense. The old seer had given her an aphrodisiac, and he suspected it was meant to relax Katarina’s fears.
“I feel such a yearning,” she whispered. “And the more you touch me, the more it burns within me. I need…something. And I can feel my heart pounding.”
When she guided his mouth to her bare breast, he lost it. There was no way he could deny her, and when he kissed the erect tip, she gave a shuddering moan.
“Please, Arik,” she whispered.
He could no longer stop himself. The simple words undid him, and he covered her breast with his mouth, teasing her with his tongue. Her body racked with tremors, and he felt her fingers digging into his hair. Katarina was a beautiful woman, and as he imagined sinking between her thighs, he kissed the other breast.
He wanted to remove her memories of being attacked, to replace them with feelings of desire.
Her breathing had transformed, her cries keening as he thrust against her. He thanked God for the layer of furs between them, for if she had been naked, he doubted if he could have stopped himself.
He sucked hard upon her nipple, and she spasmed against him, making him wonder if he could pleasure her like this. Despite his vow to leave her a maiden, he also knew that the effects of the aphrodisiac were strong. He drew his hands over her body, pushing back the furs to reveal her bare skin.
“I will let you claim me,” she offered, her voice breaking from the effort.
Arik was spellbound by the softness of her skin, though a voice inside him warned that he could not stay with her. There was no knowing how he had come to pass through time, but he did not belong here. And it was not right to take her as his wife in body—not when he intended to leave.
But he could pleasure her.
He drew his hand down her stomach, over the nest of curls. He found her wet, and she let out a cry when he touched her intimately. Instead of sinking within her damp well the way he wanted to, he began to stroke her. With his thumb, he nudged at her hooded flesh, while he kissed her nipple again. Gently, he slid two fingers inside her, and after a few moments of penetrating her while he rubbed her center, she began to move in counterpoint to him.
“Arik,” she breathed. “I can hardly breathe.”
He slowed his pace, not wanting to overwhelm her with the sensations. It heightened his own desire, watching her moan as he drew out her arousal. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her hips tilting as he caressed her intimately. She was instinctively arching, her body trembling as she reached toward her climax.
A ragged sigh erupted from her as he stroked, and he felt the moment she came apart. Her back arched, and she pressed herself hard against him, crying out as the release poured over her. He felt her inner muscles squeezing against his fingertips, and her pleasure sent him past the brink. His own release spurted forth, and he thrust his hand in time to his own hips moving, imagining that he was within her.
At last, she pulled him down, skin to skin. Their bodies were slicked with sweat, and anyone who looked at Katarina would see a woman well-pleasured. It was enough.
“I would not have fought you,” she murmured, kissing his mouth. “You made me feel so good.”
And perhaps that was so, but he knew he would only hurt this woman when he left her behind. He didn’t belong here with these people.
Silently, he leaned back, helping her to sit up. Without a word, he helped her dress before he donned his own clothing.
There was nothing at all he could say.
