“I don’t want you to ever think of him again,” he said quietly, until she tensed, not knowing what he would do. But she desperately wanted to be filled by him again.
Ragnar kissed her stomach while his hand touched her soft curls. Then he cupped her bottom and touched her intimately, dipping his fingers into her wetness. Her fingers dug into the ground, gripping the earth as he tormented her with the pressure of his thumb against her hooded flesh.
She was coming apart from the inside. Though she could hardly bear what he was doing, she understood why. He wanted to torture her, taking vengeance against her body for having had another man before him. He was going to continue touching her, until she was wild with need.
And the more she fought against the sensations, the stronger they grew. Molten heat clawed inside her as the shimmering excitement mounted harder.
Without warning, Ragnar grasped her hips and thrust his shaft inside her again. The abrupt sensation sent her flying over the edge and she dug her nails into his shoulders as he spun her off into a release so hard, she couldn’t stop the tremors. He rode her deeply, their bodies slick with sweat, until she was no longer able to grasp a single thought. The instinctive, animal urges commanded her now and she gripped his hips, forcing him to penetrate her hard and deeply.
Every part of her convulsed against him as yet another release tore through her. She was liquid and primal, and he withdrew and turned her on to her hands and knees, thrusting inside her as his hands filled with her breasts.
By the goddess, she was so overcome by lust, she could do nothing except surrender to him. He was commanding her, dominating her in every way as he pounded into her.
“Ragnar,” she pleaded, and at last he released his seed into her, his body jerking until he collapsed atop her.
He remained buried inside, his body covering hers. And now that it was over, she questioned whether he’d made love to her because he cared about her…or whether he was trying to prove that he was a better man than Styr.
The familiar hilt of the sword rested in Ragnar’s palm. The clouded air was heavy with the anticipation of battle and the promise of rain. His enemy stood before him, another warrior he’d faced with the promise of silver. The man’s face was obscured by the mist, and when Ragnar struck out with his sword, the metal bit into a wooden shield. Seconds later, a sharp sting sliced through his upper arm and blood spilled over his skin.
His muscles strained as he slashed and swung, but his energy began to drain from the wound. And when he reached into his reserve of strength, calling upon all that he had, his weapon struck the killing blow.
But when he removed the man’s helm, he saw the face of Styr.
Horror filled Ragnar when he saw his friend’s sightless eyes, his body covered in blood. A raw cry tore from his throat but the body blurred, shifting and transforming into the body ofMatheus. The child lay lifeless on the ground, blood spilling from his heart.
“Ragnar!”
The nightmare vanished, but when he opened his eyes, he saw that he was holding a dagger pointed at Elena’s throat. He dropped it immediately, stunned to realize that he’d raised a weapon to her.
“You were dreaming,” she said softly.
He’d nearly hurt her in his sleep. Somehow she must have touched him, and he’d reacted out of instinct, seizing his weapon.
“I could have hurt you.” The knowledge struck him to the bone. Never in his life had he thought he could harm Elena. But the dream revealed a truth he couldn’t deny. In the midst of fighting, when he was lost in the haze of battle, nothing would stop him from killing.
Not the face of his friend or a young child. Not the face of Elena.
He drew up his knees, covering his face with his hands to let go of the terrible dream.
Last night, after he’d made love to her, they had both dressed again and slept beside Matheus. He hadn’t slept that soundly in months.
“You wouldn’t have hurt me,” Elena said gently.
But when Ragnar dared to look at her, he saw that the boy was inching away. Matheus traced his fingers over the surface of the wall, as if he didn’t trust him. Given how close the boy had come to being beheaded, that wasn’t surprising.
Ragnar exhaled slowly, rising to his feet. “I should go and see about the boat.”
Elena stepped in front of him. “Wait.” Her arms came around his waist and she embraced him hard. It was likely meant to reassure him, but though he squeezed her in return, he couldn’thelp but remember what he’d done.You’re not trustworthy. You could have killed her without opening your eyes.
“I’m going to take you back to Hordafylke,” he said. “Some of our kinsmen may come, but we’ll likely need a crew to sail with us.”
“I already told you, that isn’t where I want to go.”
“It’s where you’ll be safe.” He turned his back to go outside and wasn’t at all surprised when she followed him.
“Am I a child now, who needs to return to her parents?” she demanded. Her green eyes flashed with anger. “What makes you believe I’ll go there willingly?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
