Page 8

CHAPTER 8

Some things are beyond comprehension. Whatever was in the cave, ‘twas not meant for her to understand nor J?rgen. The island’s men had made that place their own and paid a terrible price.

“You won’t go back. Promise me!” Astrid pleaded. “Those dreams of yours—they’re a warning, don’t you see? From my father, perhaps. If he’s watching over us, he’ll want to save you from what befell him. I want to believe it’s true… that he wishes us well.”

After a brief hesitation, J?rgen lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I was so…”

Suspicious?

Angry?

Defensive?

Astrid blamed herself for putting them in danger, but an apology from J?rgen would be welcome. He’d badgered her to do as he wished, then berated her for not divulging everything she knew.

Meanwhile, he’d done little to gain her trust—he had shared almost nothing with her—of his family, his home in Skálavík, or his hopes for the future. She’d persuaded herself that he owed her nothing, but she wasn’t content with that anymore. She’d confided so much and he so little.

“My judgment wasn’t what it should have been.” He had the grace to look sheepish. “I was… impetuous and afraid. I’ve feared sleeping for the dreams that come, but none of this is your doing, Astrid. I’m beholden to you…”

“I did what anyone would have.”

Gently, he laid his hand upon her knee. “I’m grateful and… ashamed. It should have been I watching over you, listening to your caution, acting foremost for your protection. None of the rest matters.”

Her heart swelled. He was saying she mattered. ‘Twas not the same as a declaration of love, but she was almost glad. If he made some rash protestation, she would not believe it. Better for him to speak in a tempered way of what he truly felt.

“Tell me of when you were a boyling.” Her request tumbled out. “Some memory you think of often but rarely speak of.”

His gaze flicked to the not far distant shore before returning to her. “There was once someone dear to me who asked me the same, and I told her a story.” He sat back, putting space between them, as much as the boat would allow. “I made the tale daring and full of excitement, of how I explored our fjord and the fissures of its cliffs. I told her that life is never as long as we would wish, and I encouraged her to seize adventures and laugh in the face of her fears. I told her to be bold.

“I meant only to entertain her.” His stare was hollow. “Instead, she waited until none was watching and took out a boat too large for her control. No doubt, she thought to make me proud, to regale me with her courage. Instead, the tide took her away, too far for anyone to see, and dashed her vessel upon the rocks.”

Astrid knew not what to say. She hadn’t expected such a story, and J?rgen looked wretched. She mumbled her sorrow, the words always said on hearing of tragedy. What she wanted to know was who the girl had been. Some past love? A first love, perhaps, one who J?rgen had never set aside.

As if hearing her thoughts, he went on. “She was too inexperienced to be exhorted to hazardous adventure. A sweet girl, Svala, my sister’s only child.”

Astrid gaped. His own niece!

“My sister knew ‘twas I who’d filled her head with fancies, but she swallowed all reproach. Nonetheless, she couldn’t remain by the fjord. Her husband was from another place, a day’s ride away. They left to go and live there.”

“Oh, J?rgen!” Astrid’s throat choked with sympathy for him and for the sister who’d lost so much. “‘Twas not your fault. Your sister wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Not outwardly.” J?rgen’s voice had a deadness to it. “But she wasn’t the same. Nor was I. Neither of us could forget.”

Astrid wanted to protest, to tell him such accidents were the will of the gods, but she wasn’t sure she believed that herself. To insist upon it seemed wrong. J?rgen was entitled to his remorse and his self-punishment. Sometimes, ‘twas the only way to live with grief—to take the blame upon oneself.

Hadn’t Astrid done the same in her sorrow for her father?

“‘Tis the reason… I’ve never taken a wife.” He said it so softly she almost didn’t hear. “I didn’t deserve that happiness. I’ve dues to pay.”

“J?rgen…” Without further thought, Astrid closed the distance between them.

Her hands rose to cup his face, and she brought her mouth to his. The touch of lips was gentle at first. Her cheeks were wet, but the tears were not all her own.

Then, his hands were in her hair, encircling her waist, pulling her closer. The past could not be changed or forgotten, but it could be obliterated for a short time.

Her fingers worked quickly, freeing him from his braies. She pulled up her skirts and straddled his lap. There were no more words as she took him inside her.

Their coupling was swift and greedy. His mind and emotions were a maelstrom, but his body took over, responding to Astrid’s. He pulled her gunna over her head and the shift she wore beneath, wanting—nay, needing—to have her naked atop him.

The lithe movements of her soft, feminine body were arousing enough, but having her kiss him as she rose and fell, grinding her mound upon his pelvis, all the while releasing sweet gasps and moans…

He gave her his tongue, and she sucked upon it, delicately at first, then as fervently as she claimed his cock.

When she sobbed his name, holding herself rigid while tremors shook her, ‘twas his undoing. The torrent rushed, streaming to fill her, and he held fast, clinging like a drowning man to the one thing that could save him.

He came too quickly and too fiercely, gulping her down like mead when he should savor her as finest wine from the land of the Lombards. Nevertheless, the release took with it the pain he’d been carrying.

A wash of languor flowed through him then.

Tenderly, he laid Astrid upon the sacking at the bottom of the boat and, tugging off the rest of his clothes, bunched them to cushion beneath her lower back and head.

Her slender fingers stroked his chest, his nipples, his abdomen, his buttocks until he was hard for her again. He made love to her, slowly this time. No more a virgin, her body accommodated him, meeting the rhythm of his thrusts while the boat rocked gently on the water. She raised her legs higher, hooking them over his, to welcome him deeper.

As his crisis approached, he lifted her from beneath, the better to hold her against him as he buried deep. She was drenched—from her own desire and the earlier spurting of his seed.

When they’d regained their senses, Astrid tried to sit up.

“The day grows late. We ought to return, and… I want you to see Elin. She ought to examine you to make sure you’re alright.”

J?rgen tipped her back. “You need another woman to tell you the state of my body? Relax. Enjoy.” Teasingly, he brushed his lips across her nipple, taking it into his mouth and popping it out again.

By the gods, she has the most beautiful breasts and these puckered buds, like berries ripe to be devoured.

Astrid smiled shyly. “I never have lain outdoors like this before, letting the sun warm my bare skin.”

“Then we should make a habit of it.” J?rgen trailed his hand down the softness of her stomach until he reached her fur. Lower still, he circled her nub. There was no resistance in her, only invitation as she parted her thighs. When he dipped a finger, he found his cum slick there and her sheath eager.

For the love of all Valhalla’s Valkyries, she’s a woman made for the act of love.

“You like that, Sweetling?” ‘Twas obvious she did, but he wanted to hear her say it. Her body was willing enough, but she was demure in other ways.

“I do.” She gazed at him fixedly, watching as he added a second finger to where he caressed.

“What else do you like?” Again, he kissed her nipple, taking it lightly with his teeth before releasing it.

“Everything you do… everything.” She took a half-hitched breath as he turned his fingers inside her, crooking them to find the ridged portion of her sheath that was most sensitive.

“I know what you need, Astrid.” He continued stroking her, speaking low. “My thick cock, my agile tongue, and my clever fingers… they’re all yours. You like it when I lick you here, drinking your cream? Opening your reddened lips to push with my tongue? Lapping at your swollen place? It’s like a miniature cock standing for me. Oh, yes, you have one of those; a tiny female cock that wants to be sucked and played with, just like mine.”

“J?rgen!” She twisted against him, protesting, though laughing, too.

“Perhaps you’ll do that for me soon—part your lips and taste me. Learn the shape of me in your mouth. Then, when I’m brine-wet and hard as rock, open your legs and let me bury inside, over and over, until you forget you know anything else.”

Her back arched, and she cried for him, submitting to the carnality of all he promised.

‘Twas so easy. She was his, soft and willing.

Taking away his fingers, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Ah, my sweet Astrid, I shall never tire of beholding the look upon your face when you come.”

She lowered her lashes. “I can’t help it. Now I know how, it happens in a rush. I try to hold it back, but...”

“You should never do that.” He dropped a kiss upon her shoulder. “It pleases me, knowing I give you so much pleasure. Whatever the future brings, I’ll remember you, always.”

He nuzzled her neck.

If he wasn’t mistaken, his cock was on the rise again. He wondered if she’d oblige him, giving him a sucking. Perhaps she’d find she liked it. He very much hoped so.

Astrid, though, had other ideas. She pushed herself up, groping for her clothing.

He would swear she had tears in her eyes.

“I’ve upset you? What is it?”

“There’s naught wrong, ‘tis only that we should be going. You’ve strength for the oars? We’ll need to pull fast to round the headland.”

He nodded curtly. Clearly, she’d had enough.

There would be other days. Endless days, if he had his way.

He didn’t want his time with Astrid to be only a memory.