chin, challenge thrown down, should he bother to accept.
“You do know that Alred will not quit this keep until we are truly wed.”
She blinked, realizing he was giving her a strong reason to capitulate—one other than the fact desire swirled thick in the room, and so urgently she found it hard to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth to reply. But she did. “He and his men will eat and drink their way through the stores.”
Grimvarr’s lips twitched. And there in his dark eyes, she saw a glint of humor. Something that eased the stiffness of her back. There was a sly wit beneath his brutish appearance. Intelligence beyond his prowess on the battlefield. And a lambent heat in his cool eyes that spoke to her across the silence. He wasn’t asking for surrender. Rather, he sought her cooperation to achieve a common goal. He was saving her pride. A concession as a sign of respect. Could she offer him no less?
Slowly, Edwina reached for the ties at her shoulders and pulled at the soft knots, beginning to disrobe. “We should save the best wines for the harvest celebration in the fall.” There, she’d told him she no longer objected to this union.
His mouth stretched slowly, and he too began to strip. In minutes, they stood nude, gazes raking the other’s frame until she took the initiative and slipped backward onto the mattress.
He followed, coming over her, bracing his weight on his arms, his glance sliding down her narrow frame, then up again, and centering on her mouth. “You have a generous mouth.”
She sniffed, pretending more confidence than she felt. His weight pinned her to the bed. “It is large.”
“I am large, and one day you will understand how perfectly we suit.”
He said it with a crooked smile, but she was breathless, too excited to wonder what he meant, because he bent toward her and rubbed his mouth against hers. His kiss was softer than she’d expected, but demanding all the same, lips slanting and drawing on hers, waiting until she followed his circular motions, acceding to the kiss.
When his teeth bit her lower lip, she gasped and his tongued entered her, surprising her. His tongue slid along the meat of hers, lashing it, rimming her teeth.
They kissed with their eyes wide open—her eyes crossing from the nearness, his smoldering. Without thought, she tightened her lips and suctioned on his tongue.
A groan passed from his mouth into hers, and she gave it back, at last closing her eyes and simply feeling the way he patiently prodded and licked, awakening something inside her—a curl of heat, deep inside her womb.
He was large and brutal, this she knew from the stories she’d heard, but he was also terribly insistent—and he would make sure she enjoyed this, whether she wanted to or not.
And suddenly… she wanted . Desperately. Again, she remembered him breaking from the line astride his warhorse, his body frighteningly large, his dark hair fluttering from beneath his conical helm. She’d felt a shiver of unwanted attraction and tamped it down. He’d looked like a Norse god come to life, but she’d feared he’d be every bit as brutish. And yet, here he was, set on seducing her.
By the time he drew back, breaking the kiss, she was breathing hard, her nipples hard points catching in the fur of his chest. She wanted to rub against him, to chafe in the silky curls.
His hands framed her face; his thumbs caressed her bottom lip. “Tonight, we find our pleasure, Edwina. Tomorrow, we can war.”
She felt as though a great weight had lifted—the weight of her responsibility to herself to resist. As though something broke inside her, warmth rushed through her. The promise in his eyes was seductive. He made pleasure seem possible. Even inevitable. She swallowed and gave him a nod.
His reaction was swift, a one-sided smile, an even more smoldering gaze. He scooted down the bed until his head hovered over one small breast. She slid her hand between them, covering it. He
“You do know that Alred will not quit this keep until we are truly wed.”
She blinked, realizing he was giving her a strong reason to capitulate—one other than the fact desire swirled thick in the room, and so urgently she found it hard to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth to reply. But she did. “He and his men will eat and drink their way through the stores.”
Grimvarr’s lips twitched. And there in his dark eyes, she saw a glint of humor. Something that eased the stiffness of her back. There was a sly wit beneath his brutish appearance. Intelligence beyond his prowess on the battlefield. And a lambent heat in his cool eyes that spoke to her across the silence. He wasn’t asking for surrender. Rather, he sought her cooperation to achieve a common goal. He was saving her pride. A concession as a sign of respect. Could she offer him no less?
Slowly, Edwina reached for the ties at her shoulders and pulled at the soft knots, beginning to disrobe. “We should save the best wines for the harvest celebration in the fall.” There, she’d told him she no longer objected to this union.
His mouth stretched slowly, and he too began to strip. In minutes, they stood nude, gazes raking the other’s frame until she took the initiative and slipped backward onto the mattress.
He followed, coming over her, bracing his weight on his arms, his glance sliding down her narrow frame, then up again, and centering on her mouth. “You have a generous mouth.”
She sniffed, pretending more confidence than she felt. His weight pinned her to the bed. “It is large.”
“I am large, and one day you will understand how perfectly we suit.”
He said it with a crooked smile, but she was breathless, too excited to wonder what he meant, because he bent toward her and rubbed his mouth against hers. His kiss was softer than she’d expected, but demanding all the same, lips slanting and drawing on hers, waiting until she followed his circular motions, acceding to the kiss.
When his teeth bit her lower lip, she gasped and his tongued entered her, surprising her. His tongue slid along the meat of hers, lashing it, rimming her teeth.
They kissed with their eyes wide open—her eyes crossing from the nearness, his smoldering. Without thought, she tightened her lips and suctioned on his tongue.
A groan passed from his mouth into hers, and she gave it back, at last closing her eyes and simply feeling the way he patiently prodded and licked, awakening something inside her—a curl of heat, deep inside her womb.
He was large and brutal, this she knew from the stories she’d heard, but he was also terribly insistent—and he would make sure she enjoyed this, whether she wanted to or not.
And suddenly… she wanted . Desperately. Again, she remembered him breaking from the line astride his warhorse, his body frighteningly large, his dark hair fluttering from beneath his conical helm. She’d felt a shiver of unwanted attraction and tamped it down. He’d looked like a Norse god come to life, but she’d feared he’d be every bit as brutish. And yet, here he was, set on seducing her.
By the time he drew back, breaking the kiss, she was breathing hard, her nipples hard points catching in the fur of his chest. She wanted to rub against him, to chafe in the silky curls.
His hands framed her face; his thumbs caressed her bottom lip. “Tonight, we find our pleasure, Edwina. Tomorrow, we can war.”
She felt as though a great weight had lifted—the weight of her responsibility to herself to resist. As though something broke inside her, warmth rushed through her. The promise in his eyes was seductive. He made pleasure seem possible. Even inevitable. She swallowed and gave him a nod.
His reaction was swift, a one-sided smile, an even more smoldering gaze. He scooted down the bed until his head hovered over one small breast. She slid her hand between them, covering it. He
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