Page 17

SIXTEEN

SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER

H ekla’s head thunked back against the door, a sigh of pleasure slipping from her lips.

The coarse bristle of the Fox’s beard scraped along the sensitive skin of her neck, but he soothed it with a lave of his tongue.

In the dark hours of the night, time had ceased to matter, but at some point, both the Fox and Hekla had decided it would be far more comfortable to take their games to the bed chamber.

Which was how she now found herself pinned against the door, surrendering herself to his ministrations.

The man knew just how to touch her to make all of her good sense flee her body.

Raucous laughter burst from the stairwell.

Hekla felt for the latch and swung the door open; it slammed against the wall, sending a tapestry crashing to the floor.

As she and the warrior tumbled inside, Hekla managed to kick the door shut before the voices in the corridor reached them.

The room was dark and cool, and as the Fox tore his lips from her throat, Hekla made a plaintive noise.

“Ever impatient, aren’t you, Lynx?” he murmured, walking backward with an arrogant smile. Gods, she wanted to wipe that smile from his face. Wanted to tear the sodden clothes from his body. But most of all, she wanted to win one round tonight.

Hekla admired the long lines of his body as the Fox added kindling to the banked fire in the hearth.

Soon flames crackled high, and a dozen candles flickered through the room.

Hekla simply stared at the Fox. Normally, she liked her men with a bit of grit to them—scars and callouses, toughened muscles earned on the battlefield.

And as the light caught golden threading in the Fox’s tunic and the splendor of his chambers, she had the sudden understanding that he was quite the opposite.

Yet as he turned to her with hunger in his eyes, it didn’t matter in the least.

They crashed into one another, lips colliding, fingers clawing wet tunics overhead while they kicked off boots and breeches.

Hekla twisted her prosthetic arm off, sighing as the wet, irritated skin around the metal joint was exposed to the air.

The arm clattered somewhere on the floor, but Hekla could not care.

Naked at last, they sank onto a fur rug right beside the hearth, too frantic to try to reach the bed.

Hekla could not recall the last time she was so consumed with another, her mind so hazed with need.

There was something about this man—the freedom in his laugh, the unrestrained way he touched and kissed—it reminded Hekla of something she’d lost long ago.

And she was determined to recapture it through him, if only for tonight.

Soft furs slid along her back as the Fox rolled her over and loomed above her. Hekla froze for a fraction of a heartbeat. Then, with a burst of speed, she reversed their positions, rolling him onto his back while clambering on top.

“Like this,” she purred, rising over his hips and sliding the hot length of him back and forth through her folds.

Desire glazed his eyes as they raked over her body, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

Like this, Hekla felt powerful and in control; yet under his gaze, she felt something more: Beautiful. Whole. Unbroken.

She blinked the thought away and sank onto him.

Her eyelids fluttered, a moan building in the back of her throat.

Desire and longing had coiled tighter in her belly with each kiss they’d stolen on the way back from the riverbank.

Now that he was inside her, stretching her deliciously, her desire was so potent she feared to move.

“You’re going to lose,” taunted the Fox.

“Won’t,” muttered Hekla, trying to get a hold of herself.

“Liar.”

If goading her into action had been his plan, then the Fox had succeeded.

Hekla planted her left hand on his chest and leveraged herself up before sliding slowly back down.

Pleasure jolted up her spine as he slid along the perfect place inside her.

Gritting her teeth, Hekla rode him as slowly as she could, trying to hold her pleasure at bay.

Soon sweat slicked her brow, her body quivering and on the very brink of shattering.

The Fox sat up and cupped her jaw with one hand.

“No, Lynx, don’t come for me yet.” His free hand cracked across her arse, the sting of pain yanking her back into the moment.

Hekla glared at the arrogant smile. “There you are,” he murmured, still cupping her jaw as he nudged upward, hitting the perfect place.

Helpless, her head fell back on a long, low moan.

The edges of her vision blurred, the tension inside her coiling so tight it was nearly unbearable.

On the brink of shameless begging, Hekla was almost glad for the next slap to her arse, wrenching her back from the edge.

Gods, her pride couldn’t take it if she lost to this man yet again. ..

“Not yet,” he chided. His teeth nipped down on her earlobe, and she focused on the bite of pain. “I want to see how deep I can get.”

The Fox held her in place as he bucked upward with increasing tempo, and Hekla widened her hips to accommodate the surge of him.

He hummed his approval, grunted with pleasure, whispered filthy things into her ear.

Hekla was dimly aware that the man’s vocal nature only added to his appeal.

To hear a man so unabashedly undone was a heady feeling.

She wanted to tell him so, but she was barely hanging on—was too far gone to form words of her own.

“I want you to feel me tomorrow,” he muttered against her neck. A hand slid into her hair, and he pulled her mouth to his in a deep hot kiss. But as he drew back, she saw it in his blown pupils. In his corded neck. The Fox was close.

“Almost,” he grunted, grasping her hips and pumping up—once, twice.

“F-fox!” Hekla moaned. She had the fleeting thought that it would be nice to know his true name, but then the edge was slipping through her fingers.

Hekla was falling, spinning wildly, body quaking as a scream tore from her lungs.

Scorching heat unspooled within her as her spine arched, and she spasmed around the Fox.

Like the northern lights dancing in the skies, vibrant green undulated across her vision.

A spiced, earthen taste effused through her body, all while the Fox’s thrusts grew frantic.

He stilled as he buried himself deep, groaning with such abandon that a fresh wave of green flowed in her vision.

Those groans might be the most arousing sounds she’d ever heard in her life.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, and convulsions rocked through her so fiercely, it was as though her mind was torn from her body and she looked down from above.

They sat entangled on the furs, panting in unison beside the hearthfire.

His finger pads skimmed gently along the notches of her spine, and Hekla frantically tried to come back to herself—tried to reassemble the far-flung fragments of her being.

How could this stranger wreak such pleasure from her body? She’d never come this hard in her life. Had never felt so thoroughly undone.

The Fox collapsed onto his back, pulling her with him and nestling her against his side. Good gods, the man wanted to cuddle. Her instincts told her to push away, yet her body was so lax...so completely boneless. Hekla closed her eyes. Let herself be for a moment.

The Fox traced lazy fingers along her collarbone. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” At her confusion, he clarified, “When you rolled us, I thought...you seemed to flinch.”

Hekla chewed on her lip, considering her reply. Any other night, she’d have had a quick lie for him. Yet the Fox and his truths had given her such freedom that she couldn’t stomach a lie in this moment.

“It is one of my rules,” she murmured, looking up at his beautiful face. With his chiseled cheekbones and dark hair falling around his face, he was disconcertingly handsome.

“Rules?”

“No soft sentiments,” she listed. “Do not spend the night. And I never let a man have power over me.”

The warrior’s thick brows drew together as he considered her words.

“If I’m on top,” Hekla explained, “I’m in control.”

That arrogant smirk was back. “I think we both know you were not in control?—”

She covered his mouth with her left hand.

“Quiet, Fox,” she muttered with amusement.

But voicing her rules made a hot, panicky feeling rise within her.

She had her rules for more than her personal safety.

It was for the preservation of her heart as well.

She’d shared too much with this man—had given him too many pieces of herself.

“I should go,” she said, sitting up suddenly.

“Stay,” urged the Fox, fingers circling her left elbow. “Please.”

Hekla closed her eyes. Tried to calm her racing heart. “I need to go.”

“What did I say?”

Every muscle in her body wanted to lay back down, to settle against the man’s heated skin. “It’s not you, it’s—” Hekla’s panic sharpened into deadly points, and she whirled on the Fox, lashing out in desperation. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my arm?”

The Fox’s mouth opened, then closed, and for the first time in hours, Hekla felt like she’d gained the upper hand.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to me? Don’t you want to hear how my husband hacked it off with an axe then left me to die?”

Hekla flung the words at him, a last frantic attempt to keep him away from her soft, vulnerable heart.

She pushed to her feet, not daring to look behind her.

Not wanting to see the moment the Fox recoiled like all the others.

She snatched her tunic from the chair and scoured the room for her metal arm. She had to get out of here.

But the footfalls on the floorboards stilled her.

The Fox took her wet tunic gently from her and pulled her against his chest. Hekla’s restraint snapped, and she swayed into him, letting him wrap her in a tight embrace.

“Did you kill him?” he asked in a low and dangerous voice.

“Aye,” she barely managed in reply.

“Good.” His voice was rough, but his touch was so gentle, palms smoothing over her damp hair. Hekla reached for her rules, but they were nowhere to be found. The part of her she’d fought so hard to protect was now fully exposed, and she’d never felt so vulnerable in her life.

“I like you, Lynx,” the Fox whispered into her hair. “I like that you say what you think. I admire your spirit. And you might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

A long, shuddering breath fell from Hekla, and this time, she didn’t accuse him of mockery. This time, somehow, she felt it in the marrow of her bones.

“I will ask you one time, but you needn’t answer. You’re in charge.”

Hekla wanted to laugh at the very concept, but she didn’t have the energy.

“What color,” said the Fox, “did you see just now?’

Hekla drew back with an incredulous look. “What?”

“When you found your pleasure. What color did you see?” His eyes were bright, dancing with laughter.

She bit down on her lip, her discomfort giving away to a soft, sultry feeling. “Green,” she admitted, smiling as his grin widened. “With a spiced taste. Something like róa.”

Gods, but she didn’t want to feed this man’s ego, yet she was grateful he’d brought them back to common ground. He entwined their fingers and guided her toward the bed.

Hekla could pull her hand free at any time—could retrieve her clothing and return to her own chambers. Yet she found herself following the Fox. Climbing onto the bed. Curling up against his side.

Only for a minute , she told herself.

“Since you shared a real truth with me, I ought to share mine with you.”

Surprise jostled through her. “You don’t have to.”

He glanced at her sidelong and smiled. “For some reason, I want to share with you. Perhaps you have sage wisdom to dispense.”

Hekla snorted, wondering if anyone had ever deemed her sage . “Very well.”

“Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, you’re not enough? It’s not enough?”

“Every gods-damned day,” Hekla muttered, thinking of Loftur.

The Fox exhaled, gaze drifting to the rafters. “My mother died while birthing me, and my father has never forgiven me for it.” He said it in a rush, as though each word pained him, and getting it out quickly lessened the agony.

“So perhaps,” he said softly, “all the scars you worshipped?—”

“And the dragon.”

“And the dragon.” His lips pulled into a smile.

“Perhaps they weren’t earned from a life well-lived.

Perhaps, they were a plea for attention.

An attempt to get my father to see me as more than the person who took his love away from him.

” Sadness filled the Fox’s expression, and something inside Hekla woke up and growled.

His gaze suddenly shifted into a look of determination. “But I have been granted a second chance.”

Hekla watched him carefully, trying to understand.

“My father has entrusted me with an important task. And when I complete it, he will see me as worthy.”

“Fox,” sighed Hekla. “You are worthy.” Her fingers slid into his beard, and she drew his gaze toward her. “It is hard to learn that sometimes those we love most are undeserving.”

He blinked and looked ready to argue, but she cut him off with the press of her lips. When the Fox drew back, she was glad to see no trace of sadness in his eyes.

“Break your rule,” he whispered. “Spend the night with me.”

A lump formed in her throat as Hekla’s gaze bounced from one hazel eye to the other. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“Can,” murmured the man, rolling onto his side and hauling her back against his chest. “You do it like this.”

Hekla’s heart hammered against her ribcage, her muscles rigid.

“Close your eyes,” whispered the Fox, settling closer. Hekla did so, focusing on the heat of his chest behind her. Gradually, the tension in her body eased, her breaths slowing into rhythmic pulls.

She shouldn’t stay the night. Knew she’d regret it. But for once, Hekla couldn’t bring herself to care. Sleep crept from the corners of her mind, and she found herself falling into darkness.

The last thought Hekla had before sleep consumed her, was that though her rules were meant to keep her safe, perhaps they’d only shackled her.