She grabbed fistfuls of his long hair to steady herself as hot sensations ripped through her body. He licked and sucked the sensitive nub between her legs so hard she convulsed. His hands moved skillfully—faster and faster. Rachelle welcomed the invasion, riding his hand.
“Peak for me, Rachelle.” He flicked his tongue along the rim of her core, rotating his fingers inside her.
Her hips jerked as pressure slowly built inside her belly. The vibration from his satisfied laughter felt so good. He sucked harder until she finally surrendered. The tiny pulses gradually subsided, leaving her in a mindless heap. She stared at the roof of the tent, blindly reaching for him as he back away from her. Tyr had captured every sensation of her sex with his lips. Surely that didn’t satisfy his needs. She knew it didn’t—he’d waited so long for her. Further proof this Viking god adored her.
“Are you all right?” He sat down gently beside her.
She turned her head toward him. “Aye.”
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you.” He kissed her lips. “That’s only the beginning,” he warned with a grin. “We’ll explore together.”
She nodded.
“Meet me outside when you’re ready.” He stood, then picked up his weapon belt. While securing it around his waist, he walked to the table on the other side of the tent and washed his face and hands. Then he poured a glass of wine, took a long sip, gargled, and spit on the ground. “I love your scent and taste, but it’s only for my pleasure.” He smiled, leaving her to collect her wits.
Executions and weddingsweren’t supposed to happen on the same day. But there was no avoiding it. The renegade priest and guards who abused Rachelle were hung. After Onetooth rewarded the vainglorious Edwin with several lashes, he quickly repudiated the validity of his marriage to Rachelle. With nothing else preventing the ceremony, Tyr nearly refused to let another moment pass without exchanging wedding vows. But first, he offered his betrothed a gift. Onetooth and Uncle Henry smiled at Rachelle.
“What is it?” she asked excitedly.
“You have the patience of a child,” Tyr teased.
“Look at their faces.” Rachelle pointed at her Uncle and Onetooth. “They look as guilty as you.”
“You’re sadly mistaken,” Henry said. “I’m smiling because I’m happy, nothing more.”
“Cover your eyes,” Tyr commanded.
She did. Tyr watched impatiently as Mercia emerged from one of the tents. She walked to Rachelle’s side, waiting quietly.
“Open,” Tyr said.
Laughter turned to sobs as Rachelle stared unbelieving at her best friend. She flung her arms around Mercia. The joy the two women shared made his heart swell. He swore as long as there was breath in his body he’d endeavor to maintain that magnitude of happiness with his young bride.
Not long afterthe ceremony, Bera and Mercia prepared Rachelle for her bridal bed. They combed out her long hair. Dressed in a lacy chemise and soft slippers, they wrapped her in a fur, then escorted her to the tent where Tyr waited.
Pausing at the entrance, Rachelle eyed her friend. “No one ever prepared me for this moment.”
Mercia thumbed her cheek. “You’re beautiful. What more do you need to know? He loves you. Nature will take care of the rest.”
“When did you become so knowledgeable about these things?” Rachelle needled.
“When I saw how Jarl Sigurdsson looks at you. I’d like to feel that way someday about a man.”
Holding hands with Mercia, Rachelle took a deep breath. “You will,I promise.” She couldn’t believe the uneasiness in her stomach—even her palms were sweaty from anticipation. “I’m ready.”
Mercia pulled the flap open and Rachelle entered the shelter. Her gaze darted nervously around the enclosure—mesmerized by the flames in the large open brazier. It cast shadows across the freshly stuffed mattress on the ground. She shrugged off the fur and shivered. This is where her life truly began.
Tyr smiled devilishlyat her. As she stood at the entrance, he gave thanks to Odin for his beautiful wife. Dusk-colored nipples peeked at him through the transparent chemise she wore. Her silky tresses hung loose around her shoulders. A gold choker hugged her delicate throat. He fought back the animalistic growls that wanted to escape his lips and closed his eyes. This scene had played out in his mind over and over again. From the moment she’d leaned over him on the battlefield, the soft scent that radiated from her hair had fascinated him. Almost immediately, the faces of the women he had bedded in the past were long forgotten. No female would ever occupy his thoughts and heart again.Only her.
He opened his eyes. “Look at me.”
Her gaze met his.
Pride surged through his body. What man wouldn’t be elated at this triumph—capturing the heart of the woman he loved.He’d spent the last few weeks waiting for the moment she’d come willingly to his bed. He’d give her more than a night’s passion—he’d offer her a lifetime of it. Tyr stretched his hands out.
“I give you my heart,” he choked. “Let me share the words that have been building inside me for so long.” The ones she had refused to hear before.
You are the great silvery North Star,
