Page 27 of An Arrow to the Heart

Ortolf had spent years as a mercenary before he met Valeska, who to his astonishment had also been a mercenary, though thinking on it he could see it now that he knew. Apparently the two of them came head to head in some heist, Ortolf had skipped over the details but the gist of it was that instead of killing each other they fell madly in love with each other. The two of them had then come to Wyrmwind for a fresh start, and that, they found in the form of a falling apart Alehouse and its owner - Lonan. He remembered how Lonan had told him this part previously. Lonan had been looking for an investor to help fund renovations and Ortolf and Valeska had been looking for exactly that kind of opportunity. According to Ortolf, Lonan had been the missing piece in their hearts and they all fell in love.

Ardál briefly reflected on that, maybe the village had a habit of providing its inhabitants with love. And as if in answer, a black horse came galloping toward them, silver hair flowing in its wake.

Sylvie.

“He’s fine!” she called out, and both the men sighed with relief. Ardál hadn’t noticed just how tense his muscles had been until he felt the relief of them. Thank the heavens the boy was ok.

“He lost track of time after having too much wine with a girl from a neighbouring village,” she said as she dismounted the horse. She disembarked off that horse like a God damned Goddess, an ethereal quality seeping from her every pore.

“Oh a girl is it?” Ortolf said in a lowly chuckle, “I’m glad the boy is okay, let's hope next time he lets someone know when he plans to drink too much in the company of a female.”

“Well, I don’t know the specifics but he’s at the Alehouse feeling rather embarrassed by all the attention.”

“But he’s okay?” Ardál asked.

“Yes he is,” she said, for the first time letting her gaze meet his, her eyes shining with joy. And Gods help him, for he’d kill anyone that would stop her from looking at him like that.

“I’m glad,” Ardál said, sliding his hand around the small of her back, not wanting her to go. Picking up on the tension between them, Ortolf volunteered himself to take the horse and inform the rest of the searchers that they’d had a happy ending.

“Alone at last,” Ardál said a tone lower, as he brought his hand up to the back of her head, her luscious soft hair receiving his hands. He kissed her with nothing but desire, she met him with the same ferociousness. Their tongues clashed together, exploring each other as though they’d been starved of each other. He brought his other hand to her backside, letting his crutch fall to the ground, and squeezed, hard. She pulled back slightly, her hand grazing over the exposed skin from his not fully buttoned up tunic, ever so lightly, driving him mad.

Her gaze shot over his body and she bit her bottom lip before saying in a low whisper, “we can’t. Not here,” almost more to herself than him and she left out a big sigh before her eyes met him once again.

“Not here, and besides our absence will be noticed at the Alehouse,” she repeated, shaking her head subtly.

“So? I don’t care who knows,” Ardál whispered into her ear, before placing kisses on her neck, his beard grazing against the soft skin of her neck.

“Neither do I,” she said before a moan escaped her, “but August is just back and I don’t want him to think I don’t care. Besides, I need to give him a proper once over. I kind of ran out of there and came straight here, to you.” His heart ached a bit at the admission, she’d wanted him, needed him.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he said with understanding, as his lips moved away from her skin, “I want to see the kid too, but tonight - you’re mine, and mine alone,” he said into her ear and he could have sworn she trembled at the words.

She picked up his crutch, deliberately sticking her backside into the air as she did to tease him. He growled lowly at the display as he very nearly lost his mind at the sight, his cock straining to be freed.

Oh he’d fuck her tonight alright.

“Tonight,” she repeated to him as she handed him his crutch, biting that lower lip again. At least she had the sense to begin walking back to the village before he could try convincing her otherwise.

They’d spent the rest of that day in the Alehouse, the atmosphere of which was in complete juxtaposition to what it had been when he’d left in the morning. It was like the Alehouse he’d first encountered when he’d wandered into the village all those weeks ago. The music was loud, the folk were full of laughter and smiles. Of course, as usual the food was mouth-wateringly delicious. But none of it could compare to the feeling of being near her, numerous times throughout the day he’d found himself watching her, her grinning back at him when she noticed. She was so Gods damned gorgeous. When she’d joined him for supper, she was sitting beside him, their knees joined under the table. Every now and again when their friends’ attention were elsewhere she’d place her hand, high on his thigh, her fingers tracing little lines. The sensation drove him absolutely wild, and he’d donned a hard-on in response.

Ardál had been chatting with Lonan about craft ales whilst Sylvie was up at the bar gossiping with Valeska when Lonan said, “Bloody Hel man,” laughing slightly, “would the two of you get out of here already, Hels, use our house for all I care, but I can’t take looking at the heat between the two of you. It’s beginning to turn me on and I actually need to be here, given that I’m an owner.”

“Sorry,” Ardál said rather sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “I hadn’t realised it’s been so obvious,” lifting his tankard, before bringing it to his lips finishing his ale. Lonan gave him an encouraging nod as if to say, just go as his eyes shifted in Sylvie’s direction. She was perched over the bar like she had been that first time he’d seen her, her soft curls bouncing at her every movement.

“Well,” Ardál said now standing, “goodnight then and uh thanks for the ale.”

Lonan just shook his head, once again laughing, “have fun my friend.”

Ardál came up to Sylvie from behind, clearing his throat before placing a hand at her hip, letting it slide down her thigh as he whispered into her ear, “my cock is just begging to be buried inside you.”

He paused for a moment to let the words sink in and judging by the way her body tensed they’d hit just right. He took a deep inhale of her scent before exhaling against her neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her body as he continued, “and I’m going to have you ride it so hard you come all over it, screaming my name, your titties jiggling in my face as you do.”

He pulled back and he could see the flush that had crept up her neck and cheeks, he promptly headed for the door after he waved his goodbyes at Ortolf and Valeska.

He didn’t need to turn back to know she was saying goodbyes of her own before hurrying after him.

The cold air bit at him the second he came outside. The clear skies of the day had been replaced by a dense covering of cloud. If his past experience told him anything he’d wager it would rain tonight. Of course his thoughts of the weather failed to provide a distraction from the fact that he was out here with the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and that the buffer of the entire village in the Alehouse was no more. A hint of an awkward silence sat between them as they began their walk to the cottage, both of them no longer partaking in their flirty banter for they both knew they wouldn’t be able to stop.

After a few minutes of silent walking they edged closer to the outskirts of the village, leaving just the stables and the long country road between them and their destination. He was already hard at the thought of all the things he wanted to do with her and it seemed that it hadn’t gone unnoticed by her and she felt the same urgency for she stopped suddenly and without a word, planted her lips on his as her hand caressed the bulge beneath his clothes. Ardál bit his lips in an attempt to stifle the moan that erupted from him.