Page 15 of Hungry Like a Wolf (Vikings Rock #3)

R avn closed his eyes, sank down, and let the water circle his neck. He’d been dreaming of a soak in hot water for days. He hadn’t expected it to smell of rosemary, but he wasn’t complaining. The smell would always remind him of Carmel.

Carmel.

What game were the gods playing to set out his fate with a Christian woman? A princess, at that.

He didn’t want to want her.

Hadn’t planned on bringing a woman back to Drangar.

But here she was. In his home. Looking like a shiny berry ripe for plucking. With wit, compassion, and wisdom and a way of looking at him like she saw something good there—and not just the bad blood he’d become used to thinking flowed in his veins. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

But she’d been so quiet on the boat. Tortured by her grief. Something he thanked the gods he had not had a hand in. She could blame Haakon, Astrid, and Orm for that. He’d left her to her melancholy knowing that time was a healer and these things couldn’t be rushed.

And that kiss. Also not planned. But he hadn’t been able to help himself.

He’d had no choice but to press his lips to hers.

She’d been irresistible. He’d been expecting a swift slap or tart remark, but nothing had come and he’d lost himself in her for a few sweet moments marveling at the fact a woman could make his heart beat so fast.

His cock grew hard and he reached for it, the water splashing slightly. An image of Carmel naked and waiting for his kisses came to mind. She was small and light with curves in the places he liked to see a woman’s curves. And she was untouched. A virgin.

His belly tensed and his erection thickened in his fist. He rubbed it root to tip and his balls tightened.

What would it take to be the first man to enter her?

Sure, he could do it by force. He was twice the size of her and she was effectively his captive.

But he shuddered just at the thought of the pain and disappointment in her eyes. He’d never violate her like that.

No. He wanted her wet and willing and open for him. Begging for him.

His cock twitched and he stroked it some more, imagining her reaching for him and bringing him to full hardness. Her sweet, small hands exploring, teasing and pleasuring. The look on her face as he taught her the wonders of building to an orgasm and then experiencing the climax itself.

Oh, and he’d have her cumming that first time.

He was good at sex—he’d been told that often enough.

True, some areas of his life he’d been accused of being selfish, but not when it came to sweaty, naked time.

Then he wanted his woman, or women, to be crying his name as they pulsed around his cock or dragged on his hair as his tongue worked.

He moaned softly and the urge to find pleasure right there in the water almost took him over. But he resisted, and instead, he dunked under, scrubbing at his hair to get rid of the layers of salt the sea breeze had basted there.

After a while, the water cooled and he stepped out, dried, and pulled on fresh pants. He didn’t bother with his belt or a tunic. He needed to sleep. The rock and roll of the longboat had meant for broken rest in between taking his turn at rowing.

He rubbed a piece of linen over his hair to dry it then sat beside a bowl of water and took his sharp, iron razor in his hand. After lathering, he began to shave his beard away.

As the clumps of hair came off, the beads with it, he felt lighter, renewed. As though he were leaving the past behind.

When it was all off and his skin smooth, he rinsed and patted his face dry.

He supped ale and ate salted fish then headed for his bed.

Carmel was on it. She was lying on her side, curled into a ball and apparently fast asleep.

His cock stirred again. If ever there were an invitation to take what he wanted, there it was.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, reaching for a wolf fur.

He covered her, then gently lay on the bed at her side. His arms ached to hold her, nestle her against his body and inhale the scent of her hair, but he stopped himself. Instead, he fastened his hands behind his head, stared at the beamed ceiling, and waited for sleep.

It came quickly and soon, dreams of Tillicoulty and his brothers and Astrid filled his mind. Thormod was there too, but as a baby, not a toddling child. Thor loomed over them, hammer in hand, and delfins dived through the air at his side.

And then the familiar scent of chestnut soap filled his nose; it was laced with lavender and penetrated his dreams.

He stirred and was aware of a weight over him. His arms were full and his legs tangled in fur and legs.

He opened his eyes.

Carmel was sprawled out on him, almost as though he were a pillow. Her head was nestled in the crook of his shoulder. She had one hand on his chest and her legs were entwined with his. Her breath warmed his flesh.

He froze, not wanting to break the spell. Had he reached for her or had she navigated his way?

From what he could figure out, he’d barely moved and was still on his back on the side of the bed he’d started on.

And then she stirred, a little squeak and a sigh as she arched her back and her fingers curled in the hair at the center of his chest. Tugging it just enough to invoke a pleasurable sting.

He hardly dared breathe and kept a tight hold of her in the circle of his arm.

“What the…?” She lifted her head and stared at him, blinking a few times, then her eyes widened.

“I… I didn’t do this… You came to me,” he said, wondering if she was about to fall into a hysteria.

“I…” She looked at her hand filled with his dark curls of chest hair and then back at his face. “I’m sorry.” Her fingers relaxed.

“Don’t be sorry.”

She was staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.

It was then he remembered. “Ah, I shaved.” He stroked his chin.

“You look different.”

“In a good or bad way?”

“I like it.” She lifted her hand and with her index finger traced his jawline very slowly, right to his chin and then back to his left ear.

Fuck. His cock twitched and heat rushed to his lower belly. Her touch was magic. “That’s good.” He wanted to trace her face, learn every curve and dip of her entire body. “That you like it.”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

He hesitated then, “I want you to like me.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.” The words gushed from him. “A lot.”

“You stole me away from my homeland, Ravn. Why would I ever like you?” Her words were harsh, but her eyes and the tone of her voice soft.

“Because I saved you from a life as my brother’s slave. Because I have brought you to a place that will expand your mind like no other and when you return to your homeland, you will have so many sagas to tell, your name will be famous and your wisdom sought.”

“‘When I return to my homeland.’” She pressed her palm to his cheek. “Is that what you just said?”

“ Ja .”

“When?”

He thought for a moment. “I will take you in three summers if you still want to go. The fallout from the battle will be over, Tillicoulty will be an established kingdom, and your young brother old enough to negotiate with should I need to.”

“Three summers?”

He frowned. “Is that too long?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not when I thought it would be never. Three summers, I can do.”

“Here. With me?”

“Aye, here with you.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

It was so unexpected, his eyes stayed wide and for a second, he froze.

Almost immediately, she pulled back. “I’m… I’m sorry. I—”

He cupped his hand around her nape and pulled her in for another kiss. This time, he took control, gently teasing her response and touching his tongue to hers.

She moaned softly and he rolled her over so she was beneath him. He was careful to take his weight. He didn’t want to crush her.

“I want you,” he said, not bothering to hide the need in his voice. The desire in his eyes spoke volumes; there was no disguising it now.

“I know, but you can’t have me. Not willingly.”

She pushed his hair from his face with both of her hands. The tender gesture had his cock rising to full length. She was a conundrum, a complex twist of yes and no.

“Why can’t I? I am king. I can have what I want.”

“And I am a Christian woman who cannot bed a man who is not my husband.”

“We will wed today.”

A brief smile flashed over her mouth as though amused by his urgency.

“What? Is that funny?” he asked.

“You do not want to marry me. I am your thrall.”

“You are my princess and I will make you my queen.”

“Your people will not accept it.”

“They will do as they are told. I will make them accept it. If they don’t, they will be punished.”

“Is that how you intend to go through life? As a dictator?” She paused and a slight frown appeared, as though a memory had come to her. “A king who punishes anyone who does not agree with you?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that. Wasn’t that how a king should be? Yet there was a warning in her eyes that he’d better answer the correct way. “Do you want me to be a dictator?”

“No.” She pushed at him. “Of course not.” She wriggled free and slipped from the bed.

He sat, hands up, as though in surrender. “What did I do wrong?”

“You can’t just announce you’re going to marry me.”

“Why not? You came to me in bed last night. My bed. Surely, that proves you want me.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “I was asleep. That is all. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You did when you kissed me just then.”

“Ravn.” She stepped up to him and cupped his face, staring down at him. “You have an inherent distaste for Christendom. I have seen your disapproval of Haakon marrying Kenna and converting to God’s flock. You are not Christian and you do not want to be. It could never be between us.”

“I understand it now. I was hasty back then.”

“What do you understand?”

“That all of our gods, yours and mine, weave our paths together. They are one and the same.”

“There is only one God. My God.”

“Do not disrespect Thor and Odin and the gods who feast with them.”

“I apologize.” She straightened and stepped away. “Truly.”

He said nothing.

“There must be a woman here in Drangar who would serve you better as your wife. A woman who knows the Viking ways and who can be a good mother to Thormod.”

“There is no woman here for me.” He thought of Helga and how he’d told her that she’d never be his queen despite her obvious desire for him.

He just hadn’t felt the same. “That is why my destiny set me on a path to Tillicoulty. That is why your destiny also took you there, to a village that was not yours. So that our paths would cross, so that you would come here and help me be a better king.”

“A better king?”

“I need your gentle wisdom.” He stepped closer, sensing she wasn’t about to bolt or slap him and her irritation was calming. “I admire your thoughts, your ideas. You are a worthy queen and I would be proud to have you at my side.”

“Ravn.” Her eyes misted a little. “But…”

“There is no but .”

She fingered the cross on her earring and looked at the floor.

“Carmel,” he whispered, raising her face. “Would you really rather live as a slave than a queen while you are here?”

“No…” She shook her head. “But how can I go home in three years if I am your wife?”

“I will let you go.” His mouth fastened into a tight line. “If I have to.”

She swallowed. Did he mean divorce? If so, that wasn’t something she believed in…until now, perhaps.

“In that time, I promise to respect your god, even though I am not Christian,” he said. “That is the best I can do.”

“And I will respect yours.”

“Then that is settled. We will marry.” He saw a flash of fear in her eyes and hated that it was there. “Tell me. What scares you?”

“I… I… I am a virgin and you are… And I don’t think I can…”

“What?”

“I don’t think a woman from my lands can bed a man from the north. It will not work. You are too big.”

A burst of laughter came from him. “That is what worries you?”

She frowned. “It is more than a worry. It is a truth.”

“Then how do you think Haakon and Kenna do it?”

“I…” She frowned. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. That would be wrong.”

“Well, think about this: not only is Haakon a Norseman, he also has an iron piercing through his cock.”

Her mouth fell open. “Lord have mercy on his soul. That cannot be true.”

“It is. I swear on Thor’s hammer it is.”

“It is impossible.”

“It is not. Though I do not have such a thing, so consider yourself lucky if that is something that scares you.”

“‘Lucky’?” She screwed up her eyes. “Please, can I wake up from this nightmare?”

Ravn couldn’t help but feel offended. “I have just asked you to be my queen and you think you are in a nightmare.”

“Do you know me so little?”

“I know you. And I know you are resilient, and brave, and that you will do the right thing. You will take the path your god has set out for you.” He wrapped his arms around her and snapped her close. “I believe in you.”

She gasped and placed her hands on his bare chest, staring up at him.

“Now say you will wed me this day and let’s be done with it.” Her petite body felt so good pressed up against him. As though they were meant to be.

“Wed you this day and bed you this night?”

“ Ja , and…” He pulled in a deep breath and lowered his voice.

“I will give you my word it will be a night you remember for all the right reasons. It will be full of pleasure and satisfaction. Every desire will be fulfilled, every need met.” He paused, enjoying the rising flush on her cheeks and her shallow, rapid breaths.

She was hanging on to his every word. “I will make you feel more adored than you ever have before. I will show you how real men pleasure a woman. I will show you that you will never want to leave me once I have made you cry out my name in ecstasy over and over again. It will be the most perfect night in the mortal world.”

“You can certainly…” She cleared her throat. “Talk the talk.”

“Trust me, I can walk the walk too.” He set his mouth over hers.