The Viking Wants Forever (18 page)

Reese stepped back from him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the ‘one’ to whom he was referring. “I thought you handled Bjarni with that challenge?”
Crap! Anxiety always made her tongue-tied.
And he wasn’t improving her condition by pretending to ignore her. In mounting frustration, she watched him finish dressing then pluck two linen bath sheets from a stack beneath the wash basin along with a bar of soap.

Mutinously quiet, he moved toward the door. Reese blocked his way. A temporary standoff ensued with both of them staring at each other. Unable to take his silence any longer, she exploded, “what did you do?”

“I will not be talked to thus,” he said in a deceptively calm tone which ran contrary to his darkened expression.

Reese held her ground. “Then tell me I have nothing to fear from Bjarni.”

He dropped his gaze. “I cannot.”

“You sold me, didn’t you?” she whispered, and slowly backing away from him. Ice trickled through Reese’s veins, immobilizing her. With little effort, he pulled her into his arms. Hating the sudden weakness in her knees, Reese moaned.

“I did not sell you. You still belong to me.” He rested his head against the top of her head. If he hadn’t referred her to a like a piece of property, she would have been comforted.

“Sometimes,” Reese pushed against his chest, but his arms were like bands of steel, “you make it hard for me to like you.”

She must have said the magic words because his grip suddenly loosened, and Reese stumbled backward. In one swift movement, Eirik caught her wrist before she landed on her butt.

“You like me?”

A part of her wanted to punch the smirk from his full lips. The other wanted to sit on them. Of course, she refused to let him have the upper hand. “I’m a slave. My feelings are irrelevant.”

“So we are back to that?”

“Never left. Hangs over my head like a dark cloud.”

He stepped closer, practically towering over her. “You are trying to goad me. Pick a fight.”

Reese couldn’t deny his supposition. Better fight with him, than wrestle with her chaotic emotions. If she weren’t careful, she could fall in love with the big blond tree.

As he stepped closer, his arm snaked around her waist. “It will not work,” he rasped just inches from her ear, “because the taste of your sweet cuny is still on my lips and my mood cannot be soured.”

If her skin weren’t so dark, she’d be bright red, Reese mused.

“So instead of fighting, let us enjoy
Lördag
.”

With thoughts of their wet, soapy bodies sliding against each other dancing in her head, Reese followed him over to the wash basin. Anticipation mounting, she watched him pluck two linen towels from a shelf. He handed her one, and she thanked him.

“There are better ways to thank me,” he said, taking her hand. “And you will.”

Hand in hand they entered the main hall. The hour later than she’d first assumed, dinner was long over and many of Eirik’s people already abed on benches lining the walls. Those still awake were either deep in their cups, conversing in small intimate groups, or hunched over board games.

With a single-minded purpose, Eirik guided her toward the keep’s double entrance doors. When one of his men, staggered forward to inquire about his health, he bulldozed the poor fellow back into his seat.

“Sorry,” Reese lamely offered as they swept past him, even if she didn’t quite feel it. Her libido wouldn’t allow it. After Eirik’s talk of ‘better ways to thank him’, her body was on fire again. She didn’t want to wait, resenting a simple exchange of pleasantries when she’d rather be riding his cock.

To Reese’s utter bewilderment, Eirik stopped. Dead set on playing cowgirl, she stepped in front of him and froze.

Arms folded and leaning against the double doors as if he had all the time in the world, Bjarni blocked their path. His sherry-colored eyes, heavy lidded with what looked like more than just drink, landed on her and didn’t waver.

“How are you this fine eve?”

The dark Viking hadn’t addressed her, and yet his gaze remained fastened on her. Uneasy, Reese gripped Eirik’s hand tighter. His thumb caressed her hand, somewhat easing her disquiet.

“I am well.” Noting Eirik didn’t acquire about the other man’s welfare, Reese smirked.

Eirik’s rudeness seemed to fly over Bjarni’s head. Butterscotch gaze still latched on her, specifically where her makeshift outfit gaped and exposed more flesh than she liked, he smiled broadly. No longer amused, now bemoaning her hardheadedness, Reese clutched the edges of the threadbare material.

Once again sensing her unease, her newly-styled champion stepped in front of her, shielding her from Bjarni’s impromptu peep show. Tickled pink by the possessive maneuver and more than a little amorous, Reese wrapped her arms around Eirik’s lean waist, and then purely out of impulse, she ripped a page out of his book. She bit his bicep. Not hard. Not gentle. Just enough to make him stiffen then slowly glance over his shoulder.

Aqua blues eyes filled with heat, he was putting her on notice, ‘once they were alone in the bathhouse, her behind was his’.

Toes curling, thighs slick with anticipation, eyes locked with his, Reese acknowledged his warning with another bite. This one more heartfelt than the last.

The sound he made, a deep animalistic growl, reminded her of the moment right before he climaxed. He might have twisted her in dozens of positions, fifty at last count, but Eirik always came the same way, growling like a demented beast, his body shuddering while he barreled into her like he wanted to break her in two.

Body aching for sex, Reese wouldn’t object to being pounded into the bed furs. Desire had taken over, ruling her, a tangible madness growing more intense with each passing second. Moving on pure instinct, she reached up and looped her arm around his neck. She guided his head down for a kiss. Slowly she tasted, taking her time, savoring him, then with full measure as he kissed her back with brutal abandon. 

Reese had thought she could not want him any more than before. Wrong. She was burning for him, her body arching into his, straining to get closer. Even if they were naked, she knew that wouldn’t be enough as a wealth of sensations and inexplicable emotions swamped her.

When his mouth left hers, she groaned. The loss of contact, for only the briefest moment, bordered on torture. 

“Go,” he whispered against her lips, “do not stop until you reach the bathhouse.”

With only a few words, her heart started to thud, and her blood pounded through her veins, almost drowning out the dark Viking’s laughter. He was soon forgotten as she swept past him and into the night.

****

F
eeling as if he’d downed a barrel of mead, Eirik watched Reese slip through the hall’s main doors. And not a moment too soon. Any more of her thrusting and grinding, and he would have lifted her against the wall, the lack of privacy be damned.

Eirik shook his head as if to rid it of this madness brought on by a mere thrall. Even Oona, deemed one of the fairest maidens in all of Noregr, had not brought him to his knees nor elicited this undying hunger to bond with her every waking moment. Before he closed his eyes at night, he wanted to wet his cock in her delicious quim. And every morning, he broke his fast feasting on her luscious curves.

Even now he regretted his decision to have her precede him to the bathhouse. A precautionary measure against his mounting lust now filled him with panic. He should have never left him out of her sight! What if one of his men detained her and touched what was his?

Eirik suddenly felt like ripping something apart. Instead he put his energy in putting one foot in front of the other. He didn’t get far because Bjarni stepped between him and Reese.

“I
almost
feel sorry for calling in your debt, but I will...tonight.”

Eirik opened and clenched his fists, his palms itching to clutch his prized battle axe as he chopped Bjarni into a hundred tiny pieces. A seasoned warrior, nothing of what he was feeling showed in his expression. Outwardly he appeared calm, while inwardly he quaked with fury.

“It must be
her
choice,” Eirik said with forced evenness. “I did not force her and neither will you.”

“
Ja
, her choice.” Smiling, Bjarni swept his arm toward the door. “After you.”

His honor and integrity as a man of his word was the only thing that set his body in motion. Anger in check, but raging though his veins like a wildfire, Eirik stalked past him. Guided by sheer habit, he took the rock-strewn path leading to his personal stable and private bathhouse. Senses numb and preoccupied with sorting his murderous thoughts, less he turn around and bash Bjarni’s head in, he would have noticed it was an otherwise beautiful night enhanced with a nearly full moon, the deep-throated hoot of a
hubro
and the timid fall breeze ruffling the hem of his sleeveless tunic.  

What if she accepted Bjarni as a lover?
Women tended to come alive, preening and chattering utter nonsense, tripping over themselves to gain his favor. Unlike him, who felt awkward and woefully lacking around the fairer sex, and had them running for the heels (
thank you Oona
), Bjarni lapped it up, charming women left and right.

With each step, Eirik’s mood swayed sharply from self-doubt to pure fury and then back again. Not in his right mind, he crashed into the bathhouse, scaring the only woman he was beginning to care about.

****

G
uided by the moonlight, Reese ate up the short distance between the main hall and the jarl’s private bathhouse. The cool grass felt heavenly against her soles. Too bad it didn’t cool her ardor, heat continued to course through her veins, making her practically breathless.

Stomach beset with butterflies and somewhat lightheaded, she stumbled into the bathhouse. A mock replica of the main hall, the peaked-roof structure had been built with the same blond wood. It housed a hot spring bath, a circular basin of hewn stone to which water bubbled up from an underground aquifer. Benches lined the walls as well as pegs unto which one could hang one’s clothes. She ignored the latter, shrugged out of her ripped garment and left it to pool at her feet.

Stretching her arms over her head, she moaned in pleasure. The change in temperature was delicious. The water would feel even better she mused, eyeing the steamy surface. Finger combing the braids from her hair, she eased into the pool.

“Mmm,” Reese moaned again. The water’s warm embrace melted away her aches and pains almost instantly. Eyes closed, she sat Indian style on the pool’s bottom, completely submerged to her chin. Reese moaned a third time. She wasn’t leaving this glorified hot tub until her fingers turned to prunes!

Not even the crash of the bathhouse door, only seconds later, could ruin her Zen.

“Get in.” Eyes still closed, and sinking into a meditation pose, she purred, “This bath...is everything.”

While she listened to him undress, Reese ignored the dirty old man inside her and refused to sneak a peek. She’d get an eyeful soon enough. If not here, then later in his bedchamber. The man seemed more comfortable in his birthday suit than clothes given the perpetual parade of flesh she’d been treated to all week.

“She was right. Eirik. Your bath is everything.”

Reese’s eyes shot open.

Elbows resting on the pool’s rim, Bjarni greeted her with a nod and a wolfish grin. Thankfully, the water saved her from a full Monty, but the view was more than enough to wedge her tongue at the back of her throat. The corded arms. Eight pack abs. And that wicked trail of dark hair glistening with water droplets. His birthday suit almost eclipsed Eirik’s, and deserved hours of celebration.

The deep rumble of his laughter broke her focus.
Busted!
He’d caught her checking him out. Heat riding her cheeks, and fearful of repercussions, her gaze flickered to Eirik. He stood near the edge of the pool still completely dressed. In an effort to read him, she noted his blank expression, attempted to read his body language, but came up empty.

Well, if that didn’t beat all.
Moments ago, he’d chastised her over her torn dress then counseled her on the merits of properly covering her goods from prying eyes, particularly Bjarni’s. And now, he had nothing to say about the dark Viking sitting in a bath with her?

Unwilling to fall for the okey doke she asked, “What is he doing here?”

“Bjarni is
joining
us.”

He said it so matter-of-factly Reese was stunned into silence. Thankfully, they seemed to sense her quandary because they also remained silent, as if giving her time to piece together this puzzle, draw her own conclusion. Of course, the more Reese tried to sort things out, make sense of this new development, the solution further eluded her.

I
n a short time, she’d come to expect Eirik’s possessiveness, so serving her up on a platter, after publically staking his claim, didn’t add up. However, one constant remained. A bitter pill she couldn’t swallow but put everything in perspective.

“I’m a slave and I’m here to serve,” she finally bit out.  Resigned, she treaded over to them.

Eyes locked with hers, Eirik sank to his haunches. “You
are
my slave...and you
are
here to serve me...but you always have a choice. I would never force you to accept him or me.”

A choice?
Reese’s gaze ping-ponged between them as visions popped off in her head like corn kernels in an air popper. He’d just presented her with every woman’s fantasy! Where Eirik had been born in light, Bjarni epitomized darkness. Both were equally handsome and built for pleasure. She wouldn’t be able to walk for days.

Nipples hardening with desire, her senses hyperaware, she rested her arms on the edge of the pool. Bjarni flashed her a full-blown smile but kept his distance. The affect was the same as if he’d touched her because butterflies had hijacked her tummy.

Still, Reese couldn’t set aside her suspicions. “What does
this
mean?”