In one swift motion, he reached back and grasped her by the waist, pulling her onto his lap. Beneath her legs, she felt the hard ridge of his arousal. For a moment, he held her there, his eyes burning into hers. He claimed her in another kiss, and the heat of his mouth stole her breath.
“Yes,” he murmured against her lips. “There is somewhere else I want you to touch me. If you are willing.”
The wickedness of his tone made her blush, but he did not guide her hand lower, nor did he reach beneath her skirts. He simply held her on his lap, studying her face. “But I will never force myself upon you, Katarina. You can trust in that.”
She understood, then, that he only wanted to show her his desire, to give her that choice. Her body warmed to his arousal, and she grew sensitive to his kiss, feeling the urge to give herself up and surrender to her needs.
Shedidbelieve that he would go to any lengths to protect her. And yet, she couldn’t help but worry about the heartbreak that lay ahead. He would not stay, even if he wanted to.
She stood back, crossing her arms over her linen gown. Her body was aching, and she realized she had lowered the boundaries between them. Confusion roiled within her mind, for she didn’t know if it was right to enjoy whatever stolen moments they had together. It would only make it that much harder to let go of him when he left her.
Arik stood from the low stool and took her hand, leading her toward the bed. She hesitated, slowing her steps. She was not quite ready to become his wife in body. He seemed to sense this and reassured her, “I only intend to sleep beside you. Just as I have every night since we arrived.”
When she lay down upon the bed, Arik pulled her body into a light embrace with her back pressed to his chest. She had kept her linen underdress on, but she was well aware of his body heat. Nestled against him, she imagined for a moment what it would be like if she were naked. With nothing between them, she could easily envision him touching her.
Although the men had frightened her on the night they had attacked, Valdr and Leif had arrived before any harm was done. And with Arik, she had felt nothing but sensual attraction.
His breathing grew deeper as he fell into sleep, but her desire only intensified. She had enjoyed massaging him, taking pleasure in the power of touch. She wished she could have touched her mouth to his skin, exploring further.
Every part of her body felt alive right now, tingling with the closeness of her husband. Between her legs, she ached, wanting him more.
She reached up to the front of her gown, and her breasts were taut against the linen. Her nipples were so sensitive, and she bit her lip as a spear of desire flooded through her.
I want this man,she realized. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her…to be inside her. And now he was here. He belonged to her, and she knew that he desired her, too.
From the moment she unlaced the top of her gown, she sensed him awakening. She pressed her bottom against his hips and felt the hard ridge of his arousal. Katarina remained still, waiting for him to touch her. But he kept one arm resting at her waist, the other arm beneath her neck.
And she realized that he would not touch her, for he had promised this. If she wanted him, she would have to make the first move.
Katarina lowered her bodice until it hung open, exposing her breasts. Her palm grazed the erect nipple, and a jolt of heat caught her between her legs. She let out a shuddering breath before she reached for Arik’s hand.
She took his palm, gently resting it upon her bare breast. The pressure of his hand warmed her, and she imagined him rubbing her there. Her mind conjured up the memory of his hot mouth sucking upon her nipple, as he had on their wedding day. The thought made her arch against him.
His fingers moved in a soft caress upon her. “Are you certain you want this?”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and sensations rippled through her with aching pleasure. He gently traced the outline of her nipple, using his thumb to draw out the tip.
Arik paused a moment, and she guided his hand to her other breast in an open invitation. This time, wetness bloomed between her legs as he stroked her. With every touch of his fingers, she felt an answering tremble deep inside.
He shifted his position, cupping one breast while he drew his other hand over the outline of her body. He traced the curve of her hip and reached to the tangled hem of her linen gown, slipping his hand beneath it. For a moment, he paused, resting his palm upon her thigh. Then he moved it gently between her legs while his other hand caressed her nipple. Her breathing hitched at the sensation, and she pressed back against him, hearing his answering groan.
It felt so forbidden, wanting this man so much. He was right when he had claimed before that they were hardly more than strangers. She should have denied him, but the thought was unbearable when she needed him desperately. She knew where this would lead, and she hoped she could push back her fears of the night she’d been attacked.
His hand stroked the soft skin of her inner thigh. She froze, keeping her legs slightly apart. But when he continued to stroke her breast, she found herself beginning to seek more of his touch. It felt so good, as if he were worshipping her body with his hands. Gently, she parted her legs, and he rewarded her by cupping her intimately.
Katarina was wet with longing, caught up by how good it felt to have his fingers touching her. He seemed to instinctively know how to kindle the fire of her needs. It was even better than when he had touched her on their wedding day, and she craved the release she knew he could give her.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, tugging at her ear lobe with his mouth.
“No.” Her voice was breathless, and with that, he began to stroke his finger against her wet opening. Her reaction was almost violent as the arousal pulsed through her. A moan escaped her, and he slid one finger inside. The moment he did, he cupped her breast, stroking her nipple as he gently entered and withdrew with his finger.
By the goddess Freya, she wanted so much more. His thumb grazed above her entrance until she was breathing in rhythm to his intrusion.
“I want to be inside you,” he murmured. “No matter how little time we have, I want to be joined with you, Katarina.” To underscore his words, he continued rubbing her hooded flesh, shocking her with the intensity of the pleasure.
“Then do this,” she bade him, trying to turn to him. “You are my husband, and it is your right.”
He was silent for a time, though he never stopped touching her. She felt a tremor building deep within, and she begged, “Please, Arik.”
