She breathed in his smell, the lingering scent of leather and, under that, the soap he used so regularly. She smiled when she noticed her breathing had fallen into the same pattern as his. Or had he followed her? Did it matter?
With a heavy sigh, he grasped her hands and encouraged her to release her grip, then turned around and looked down at her.
“No one need ever know what happens here between us,” she said.
“We will know. And… and what if I—” He looked away from her again.
She kissed the edge of his jaw, the scarred skin rough under her lips but so warm and so alive. “What if you what?”
“I haven’t…”
She tilted her head to one side. “Since you were scarred, you have never been with a woman?”
“No.”
“How… how long?”
“As long as Einar has been alive.”
“Oh, Arne.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“Can you… by yourself?”
“Yes,” he bit out through clenched teeth. He lowered his gaze to the ground. “But, you will not want to—”
“I have seen you already. Your body works as it should, Arne. There is nothing to stop us.”
“But you are a princess and—”
She put her finger over his lips. “Here and now, that doesn’t matter. I have spent my whole life being kept safe, kept away from people, handed over from my father to my husband, and only when he died did I find any kind of freedom. And men still try to take that from me.”
“Including me.”
“No.” She laughed. “The only thing you ever seem to have wanted is for me to leave. Please, lie with me. Let us pretend we are simple people with no one to account to but ourselves. I want to feel pleasure again. People keep their distance from me, others rarely even touch me.”
“No woman until you has wanted to touch me in years.”
“Did they tell you that?” She ran her free hand around his face and kissed him sweetly on the lips. “Because you are still a handsome man despite the scars.”
She waited, but he didn’t move, not even a muscle. She stepped back, continued until she reached the bed again, then reached for her brooches and unfastened first one, then the other. She let her apron fall at her feet, then stepped out of it before placing it and the brooches beside the bed. Then she took off her dress, leaving herself clad only in her sark. She shivered in the air, still chilly despite the fire. He was watching her now, his gaze fixed on her body as she reached down for the hem of her sark and drew it up and over her head, then let it fall.
For a long moment, they both remained where they were. Then, just as she thought she had made a terrible mistake, Arne crossed the space between them, unfastening his kirtle as he moved. He pulled it off and dropped it behind him, then gathered her in his arms and took her mouth. His hands roved over her bare skin, and he pulled her against him. She unfastened his breeks and pushed them down.
“Sit,” he ordered. When she obeyed, he knelt in front of her, placed a hand on each thigh and pushed them apart. She gasped at the first touch of his tongue on her most intimate area and leaned back on her elbows, craning her neck to watch him. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop the sounds bubbling up from inside her as he licked and sucked at her, but she couldn’t stop the groan as he slid a finger inside her. When that was followed by a second and he began to rub a spot deep inside her as his tongue continued toplay it was too much. She let her head fall onto the blankets and her back arched as an orgasm ripped through her.
As she lay panting, she tried to reach for him but only succeeded in whispering, “Please.”
“Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes, I’m so very sure, Arne. Please.” She paused. “Your shirt.”
“No.”
“Then let me…”
When he didn’t refuse, she sat up and slid her hand under the soft material until she found his hard length and took hold of it.
