He fit himself between her legs, and her feet hooked behind him as if the two of them had been carved by a master crafter to fit together as one piece.
He gripped her waist with his hands and pressed against her, and again her hips lifted up to meet him.
This time it was no finger entering to stretch her, but a shaft of velvet-covered iron. Slowly, inexorably sliding forward and back, pressing deeper inside her with each small thrust, he stoked the fire of an aching need growing within her.
He filled her, his hands cradling her lower back as her body clenched and tightened around him in sharp, rhythmic little contractions that brought with them a momentary precious relief.
She looked up at his face as he rose over her, his back arched, his head thrown back.
Maybe, just maybe, being in control was little more than seizing the moment and snatching from life what you wanted, as she had done when she’d initiated their lovemaking.
If she could do that, she could do anything. No matter how hard it might be, she would find the strength somewhere deep inside, and shewoulddo what was necessary.
Even if that ended up being something as difficult as walking away from the man who would hold her heart forever. He had already made it clear he would be leaving her when their quest was done—but was that still his intent?
To know the answer to that question would require that she swallow her pride and ask it. Orabilis had cautioned her that she must let go to hold on, and that was what she would do. She would let go of her pride to hold on to her chance for happiness.
NOT EVEN THEguarantee of eternity in Valhalla could make him feel as good as he did at this very moment.
Hall kissed the top of Bridget’s head and tightened his arms around her. To lie like this, with this woman wrapped in his embrace, was all he needed in life and all he could ever want.
Then his stomach growled loudly.
And food, of course. Give him Bridget and food, and the rest of the world could find its own way without him.
With another kiss to the top of her head, he tossed back his heavy fur and hurriedly dressed before tending to the rather well done rabbit hanging over their fire.
“Meal’s ready,” he announced with a chuckle.
“Right, then,” Bridget muttered.
She reached out from under the fur they’d shared to snag her shift, appearing from the covering only after she’d dropped the garment over her head. Wrapping the fur around herself, she came forward and accepted the piece of meat he held out to her.
Even burned, it was the best rabbit he’d ever tasted. The way he felt right now, he suspected that even straw and dirt might taste good.
“You ken, do you no, thatthat”—Bridget tilted her head toward the spot where they had laid together—“is no going to happen again.”
The meat that had seconds before tasted like a king’s banquet took on the texture of the dirt and straw Hall had imagined.
“What are you saying?”
Bridget shrugged. “We’re very different people, Hall, each with our own path in life. Could you honestly say to me, here and now, that you’d give up all you know, all you have, to stay here with me?”
He wanted to say yes more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. He wanted to say the words she obviously wanted to hear from him.
But could he be like his father and think only of his own happiness? Could he abandon all those desperate souls calling upon Thor for help?
No. That simply wasn’t who he was.
“As I thought. You dinna have to speak it aloud; the look upon yer face is answer enough.” Bridget tossed the bone she held into the fire. “Morning light will come soon enough, and we have our journey cut out for us. Sleep well, Hall.”
She crossed to the opposite side of the fire and lay down, pulling the fur tightly around her, her back turned to him.
Sleep well? He doubted he would sleep at all. Not that he wanted to sleep, knowing that his dreams would be filled with nothing but Bridget, as they always were.
He should have counted himself fortunate to have had those precious moments with her to hold in his memory. But he couldn’t. The memory would torment him for the rest of his life.
Not having something you imagined to be what you wanted wasn’t nearly so awful as not having something youknewwas exactly what you wanted.
