Now they stood in their chambers, the door shut behind them, the fire burning low and warm. Halvard didn’t touch her at first. He just looked at her—looked as though he was memorizing every detail, every breath, every tremor of emotion crossing her face.
Elsie felt a flutter in her chest—not of nerves, but of tenderness so strong it swelled up and filled the hollow places that had lived inside her for years. She stepped closer, placing her hand over his heart. It thudded under her palm, hard and fast.
“I want you,” she whispered.
The sound Halvard made—low, rough, disbelieving—sent goosebumps racing along her skin.
He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over her cheek as though she were made of something precious. “God, lass, say it again.”
“I want you,” she breathed, feeling the warmth of the words bloom through her like sunlight. It sounded much likeI love you.
He kissed her then, neither hungrily, nor with restraint—just honestly, deeply. It was a kiss that wrapped around her heart and held her still. She melted into him, lifting her hands to his shoulders. Halvard loosened his grip only to slide his arms around her waist, gathering her closer, as though he needed her breath against his to believe this was real.
Everything in her went warm, soft, weightless.
They broke apart slowly, their noses brushing. And then Halvard began to undress her, carefully and almost reverently, the way a man handles something he treasures. His fingers trembled slightly as he slid each lace free, as though her willingness unraveled him.
“Tell me if anythin’ feels wrong,” he whispered against her temple. “Anythin’ at all.”
“It won’t,” she whispered, and tugged at the hem of his tunic.
Halvard helped her take it off, revealing broad shoulders marked with scars—the silent map of a life spent protecting others. Elsie traced one with gentle fingers, and Halvard inhaled sharply, his jaw tight, his eyes burning into hers.
“Elsie…” he warned softly, but the warning held no threat; only longing.
Piece by piece, their clothing fell to the floor. And when she stood before him fully bare, she expected to feel shy, exposed, uncertain again, just like the first time.
But Halvard looked at her as though she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—just like the first time—and the knot in her stomach eased.
His breath caught audibly. “Saints,” he whispered, almost reverent. “Ye’re incredible.”
Elsie’s cheeks flushed, but instead of hiding, she lifted her chin and touched his cheek. “So are you.”
A faint smile pulled at his lips, and then he kissed her again, slow and deep, guiding her toward the bed. The furs brushed her legs, soft and warm, and he lowered her onto them with a tenderness that made her eyes sting. Halvard hovered above her, bracing his weight so he barely touched her, except for the gentle press of his body against hers.
“Elsie,” he mumbled, as though saying her name steadied him. “I want ye. More than I can say. But I want ye tae feel safe more than anythin’.”
Elsie lifted her hand, resting it against the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. “I do. With you, I do.”
“Then I’ll take care o’ ye,” he whispered, lowering himself to kiss along her jaw, down her throat, slow and patient. “I’ll make ye feel good, lass. Tell me what ye like. Tell me when tae stop.”
Her breath hitched as his lips explored her skin, gentle and warm. Elsie arched into him, every nerve awakening to his touch. When his hand slid up her side, his calloused thumb brushing the underside of her breast, she gasped, leaning into the touch.
“Ye like that?” he asked, voice barely more than a breath.
“It’s perfect,” she whispered.
He exhaled shakily, relief and desire mingling, and lowered his mouth to her chest. Every kiss he placed was soft, slow, worshipful. There was no rush, no urgency; only devotion.
Elsie felt herself unraveling under him, each touch building heat low in her belly, each kiss drawing a soft sound from her throat. And Halvard reacted to every sound, every arch of her back, every trembling breath, adjusting, gentling, deepening.
He treated her pleasure like something sacred.
His hand reached between them, finding her opening once more. And just like the first time he had touched her, Elsie’s body was alight with need, her skin burning hot, feverish. When he pressed those clever fingers against her sensitive spot, she gasped, the sound rippling between them as pleasure rippled through her entire body.
“An’ this?” he asked with. Devilish grin. “Ye like this?”
“Yes,” Elsie gasped. “Oh, I like it very much, Halvard.”
