“I wanted to prove myself,” he admitted. “Fighting was all I knew how to do.”
“There’s more to you than a sword and a shield,” she said. “You are a man of honor and courage.”
“None of my thoughts were ever honorable toward you,” he said, his tone turning deeper. “I never spoke them, but I imagined taking you away from Styr. Capturing you and claiming you.”
“I wanted you to claim me,” she admitted. “That night when I dreamed of you. When I forced you to touch me.”
“You didn’t force me to do anything I hadn’t already imagined.” He reached out and drew her face to his, staring down into her eyes. “I don’t care what Styr ever said to you or what he thought. You’re perfect in my eyes and always have been.”
A soft ache caught her heart, for no one had ever said that to her. She felt a yearning to show this man that he had nothing to prove. That shedidcare for him.
They were shielded by the wooden partition, but she was fully aware of the others nearby. Ragnar knelt down at the hem of her skirts, lifting them as his hands moved over her bare calves. He slid his palms over her thighs and hips, until he removed the gown and she stood naked before him.
Her breasts tightened, and Ragnar laid her clothing down on the ground. Although she was shy, afraid that someone would interrupt them, she wanted this man.
Before she would let him lay her down, she stopped him. “I want to see you.” Her eyes rested upon the bulge of his erection.
Ragnar untied his leggings until his naked body was revealed to her. She was fascinated by the differences in him. His legs were thicker, his body honed like a sharp blade. And she knew well enough what it was like to have him inside her.
She lay down upon her clothing, feeling more nervous this time. Her mind spun with fears, even though she knew he would not hurt her. She had lain with him before, and it had been thrilling beyond anything she’d known.
But even with him, she had not become pregnant. Her courses had come and gone, and she was left to realize that lovemaking would not be about creating a child. She had to let go of that dream and find happiness in another way.
When she reached for Ragnar, he took her wrists and laid them above her head, lifting her breasts toward him. With his voice low, he said, “The last time, you took your pleasure from me, for your own desires. Now I’m going to take mine.”
He covered her erect nipple with his warm mouth, sending a jolt of arousal flooding through her. With his tongue, he swirled and suckled her, making her want so much more.
Ragnar took one of her hands down and brought it between her legs. “Put your fingers there and don’t move your hands.”
She didn’t understand at first what he meant, but when he kept the pressure there, he bent to her other breast. A startling shimmer of pleasure rocked through her.
She started to touch herself, but he stopped her. “No. Keep your hand there and don’t move it.”
He lifted one of her legs up, bending her knee and touching her skin. He claimed her mouth, his tongue twining with hers. The raw sensations were coursing so fast, she imagined that the pressure of her fingers was his hard length. She was wet for him, wanting to have him joined with her.
To encourage him, when he freed her left hand, she reached for him, circling his shaft with her palm. He kissed her harder, hissing when she began moving her hand up and down.
He pressed his hand atop hers, his fingers dipping into her wetness. And although it brought her pleasure, she fought against the rush of sensation, almost afraid of the way he was making her feel. It was happening too fast, and she bit her lip hard.
“Don’t scream,” he whispered against her ear as he thrust inside her body with his fingers.
The command made her want to cry out, and she couldn’t believe how violent her feelings had become. His thumb edged her hooded flesh while his fingers caressed inside her. The sensations built up within her until she was trembling.
Ragnar shocked her when he immediately pressed his rigid length between her legs. The pressure of his thick erection drew an unbidden moan from her lips. It felt so good with him there, and the shimmering pressure took hold again.
Then, finally, when he sheathed himself inside her, she let out a sharp gasp.
“Don’t cry out,” he breathed against her mouth. “I don’t want you thinking at all. I only want you to feel me inside you and know that no one will come between us again.”
By the blood of Freya, she had never felt so aroused. But that was what Ragnar wanted. He was trying to force away the memories of her first husband, putting himself in their place.
He held himself deep inside, and with his mouth he began giving attention to her breast again. He circled the tip, biting gently while his hips moved in a rhythmic circle.
“All these years, I saw the two of you together, and I imagined him doing this to you.” He withdrew nearly all the way before plunging deeply, connecting their bodies. “I wanted to kill him for touching you.”
She was wet and desperate for more. “Don’t bring Styr into this,” she demanded. “This isn’t about him.”
He quickened the rhythm, using shallow thrusts to press against her. She couldn’t stop the spasms of arousal that took hold, and though she wanted to force him closer, she knew that he would not cease his assault upon her senses. She locked her legs around his waist, but Ragnar overpowered her, pulling out from her body until she was quivering with a greater need.
