Heart of a Viking (14 page)

Thorarin put a finger to her neck. “You have no idea how much that killed me to see, Keita. I swear, he will pay for touching you.”

She realised she must have marks on her skin from where Ragni had held her. Thorarin’s eyes darkened and his mouth remained tense. She moved onto tiptoes to brush a kiss across those lips in a bid to ease the grim line.

“He is allowed to touch me, he is my master.”

“I wanted to tear off his limbs,” he admitted.

“I came to no harm.” Keita hoped her light tone did not betray how horrified she’d felt at the time.

“He will pay for everything, I promise you. It will not take me long. I will see this through.”

She ignored his words. All this talk of revenge was wearying her.  All she could think on was his hands upon her body, his mouth on her skin—the image of him between her legs doing wicked things that brought her more pleasure than she’d ever been capable of with her own hands. She didn’t wish to think on the events of the morning or the pure fury on his face as Ragni had manhandled her. Nor did she want to consider all the uncertainty and danger in the future.

Keita looped her hands around his neck and drew him down to her. She caught the faintest smile on his lips before she came onto tiptoe and kissed him. He needed little encouragement.

With the rushing of the water in her ears, he swept her along in a kiss that seemed to reach deep inside her. His arms came about her, enclosing her in a wall of muscle that had her feeling safer than she had in her whole life. His mouth claimed hers with deep kisses, then softer ones. Occasionally he nibbled at her lips. It was as though he was determined to kiss her in every way possible in case they never had the chance again.

And they very well might not. They were upon a blade’s edge. One wrong move and they’d be sliced to ribbons. Both of their fates were entwined now, so tightly that there was no untangling them. If she were sensible, she’d regret giving into desire, for even speaking with him, because that exchange had been enough to lure her in. He’d piqued her curiosity in that first moment alone together and she might have not known it then, but she had been doomed to follow this path.

However, with his arms about her and his firm body pressing into hers, she couldn’t regret a thing. Not even fear managed to penetrate the warm cocoon he created. She never wanted it to end.

Thorarin broke the kiss but held her tight to stare down at her. His lips tilted in one corner and he gave her another fleeting kiss. “I must see to the boats,” he said before dropping another kiss to her lips.

“Aye, you must.”

“We take a great risk here.”

“We do,” she agreed.

He kissed her again, stealing a slightly longer one this time. “I must go,” he muttered, following this with another brush of his lips over her mouth then her chin and jaw line.

“Then go,” Keita told him though she kept her arms looped around his neck.

“I think there is some power in you, Keita.” His lips quirked. “I find myself unable to move.”

“You are a strong warrior. I think it unlikely I could prevent you from doing anything.”

“Yet you command me with but a look. I have no strength against these eyes.” He put a finger to her lips. “Or this mouth.” His hands came about her body once more. “This body...”

“If that were true, I would command many things of you.”

Coldness seeped into her chest as though she had been doused with river water. She’d command him not to raid, not to follow his plans of revenge. She’d tell him to escape with her where they could create a life together. However, she had seen the pain deep inside him and she could not be sure escaping would heal him fully. Whatever the outcome of this revenge, she couldn’t interfere, no matter how much she longed to.

Keita loosened her grip on him and moved away. She couldn’t let him see how her heart ached for him.

“Go now,” she said softly, offering a smile that she hoped assured him all was well.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I shall see you this night?”

“Aye, I shall come to you.”

“Have a care. If it is too dangerous, do not come at all.”

“I shall.”

He strode away and she watched him progress back into the woods. Tonight she would stroke her hands across those wide shoulders and truly appreciate his strong form. She would show him everything she felt for him with her body. Perhaps she might even come to understand exactly what that was. All Keita knew was it made her heart want to burst and crumple all at the same time.

Thorarin stepped off the ship and eyed the sail again. Ragni would be furious. He’d have to ensure Keita did not suffer for it. He curled a fist and began the climb back to the settlement. He’d had the men put a hold on preparing to leave. They could not do anything until the sail was repaired. At some point during the past few months, it had become damaged enough to need a new one. He recognised the damage as probably having come from the storms they sailed through but it likely hadn’t been visible at the time. These months waiting in the dock had increased the damage and now it needed a new sail.

Which worked in his favour. Now he would not have to raid on Ragni’s behalf. Or leave Keita. The thought of leaving her unprotected created a chasm in his chest. As he marched up the slope, following the faint path many feet had woven through the woods over the years, he thought of their kiss. He’d not wanted to leave her, not then and not now. He strongly suspected he could remain kissing her for a lifetime and never tire of it.

But of course, if he succeeded, he’d have to release her. She would return home to her family—where she belonged. And he would never blame her for that. As a man with no family, he knew how important they were, even those who had betrayed her. Family could unload much on a person and still be forgiven because there was nothing deeper than blood.

Thorarin paused at where the trees opened out onto the settlement. Would Ragni begin to suspect sabotage if Thorarin told him of this sail?

Perhaps, though the
járl
seemed in ignorance as to his machinations and the villagers’ murmurs had settled. Only a few would speak out about him now and those voices would be quashed under the weight of the support he had. He’d become a valued member of the village, just as his father had once been.

But the difference was, Ragni was no longer at the height of his power. Thanks to the
járl
’s own greed and temper, and with a little help from Thorarin, ensuring the
járl
was ejected from his seat would be easy enough. With any luck, no one would need any more help from Thorarin to call for a new leader. And that was when Thorarin would step into the breach.

He headed to the longhouse, pausing briefly to speak to one of the men who had asked for help with his barn. “I would not go to the
járl
this day, Thorarin,” Ulf warned.

“Why is that?”

“He’s in a fine temper. Took one of the boys and had him strung up and whipped.”

Thorarin should not have been surprised. Had he not witnessed the
járl
’s savagery enough times? Had he not known it first hand?

“What did the boy do?”

“Stole from the storehouse I believe. Not that I can blame him. The
járl
is asking for more than anyone can give.”

By Odin’s beard, this was his fault. Yet again, he’d failed to consider how his actions would affect others. Now they were starving and being punished for wanting their fair share. Still, the people would be better off once they removed Ragni. He only hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. No one else could get hurt. Thorarin couldn’t allow it.

“I’ll see you shortly,” he told Ulf, putting a hand to his shoulder.

He came to a stop outside the longhouse. Sure enough, a boy, no older than he’d been when he left was tied up. His eyes were closed and blood streaked his clothes. Bitterness rose in Thorarin’s throat. He circled the boy and grimaced at the sight of the torn flesh of his back. Dried blood crusted it but the damage would be lasting—to his body and his mind.

Memories of blood spraying across the dirt floor in the longhouse assailed him. He closed his eyes to the mess of the lad’s body and came back to stand in front of him. He loosened the knots holding him in place and wrapped an arm around him when he came free. He spotted one of the men, picked up the boy and carried him over to him.

“See that he is tended to.”

He looked at him with wide eyes. “The
járl
...”

“I shall take the blame, fear not.”

He nodded and took the injured boy from him. Thorarin swiped his slightly bloodied hands down his tunic and made his way back to the longhouse. Ragni was not seated in his usual place and Thorarin paused to speak with one of the
thralls
. “Where is the
járl
?”

“Abed. He did not wish to be disturbed.”

The likelihood was, he would not even notice the boy was gone then if he intended to spend the day abed. But Thorarin would have to speak with him and suffer his wrath. The man did not scare him. In fact, anything the
járl
tried to inflict upon him would only work in his favour now.

Sunshine cast glorious fingers of gold over the field. Keita seemed to shine bright amongst the corn. Several
thralls
worked farther out but they wouldn’t spot him. At least he did not think so. And if they did? Would they speak of him and Keita? He took a risk approaching her even if
thralls
had no place speaking of him.

But he could not resist. After the confrontation with Ragni, he needed to see her sweet smile and feel her delicate arms wrapped about his waist.

He made his way through the crop toward her, careful not to surprise her by approaching from the side. She spotted him when he was a few paces away and stood, darting a glance about. The corn was tall enough to reach her chest. He hoped it would also be tall enough to hide what he was about to do.

“What are you—?”

He cut her off by grabbing her around the waist and hauling her to him. Thorarin crushed her against him and scooped her up easily. Kicking aside her basket and ignoring her cry of dismay, he eased her to the ground and covered her mouth with his. Her surprise quickly gave way and she kissed him back. She threaded her fingers into his hair and released a tiny moan. The sound was like the best mead to him, warm and soothing.

Ragni had not been happy about the sail or the boy, as expected. He’d even gone as far as to accuse Thorarin of sabotage, of not wanting to be of use to him and lead the raid. Though he’d managed to placate the
járl
, the accusations gnawed at his mind. The
járl
’s trust was waning. He needed to take action before it fell away completely.

While Ragni still held power, his revenge could not be complete.
Já
, he could kill the man but that would make him no better than a murderer. There was no honour in a violent, swift revenge. He had to bring the man to his knees and ensure every part of his life was destroyed—by Ragni’s own hand. Only then would Thorarin’s honour be restored.

For now, however, he lost himself in the taste of Keita. Her fingers worked over his shoulders, and she could have no idea how her touch soothed him. He broke away to look down at her and drink in her beauty. His gaze naturally fell to the collar marring it. Soon, it would be gone and before she left he would taste every part of that elegant neck.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“
Já
, I know.” He kissed her again, easing slightly to the side so he could ease the ties of her gown open and release one beautiful breast.

She gasped when he touched his lips to the rosy peak of her nipple. He tickled and teased her with his mouth before drawing it in and nibbling with his teeth. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she murmured his name. He began hitching up her skirts and found her to be wet.

“I need you, Keita. Now. I cannot wait.”

“Then do not.”

Thorarin was not sure he’d intended this. He had not expected to lay her down in the field, where anyone could come upon them, and take her. Really, he’d sought her out simply to see her, maybe kiss her a little. But when he touched her, he lost all reason. His body burned for her, his soul ached for her. He needed to be joined with her in the most basic way.

He pressed a finger into her to be sure. Tight, hot, but wet and ready for him already. Thorarin pushed a hand beneath her and rolled, bringing her on top of him. One breast still peeked out so he pushed down the other shoulder of her gown and savoured the view.

A hint of a smile curved her lips while she spread her palms over his chest. There was no time to undress properly and he did not have the patience for it but he longed to feel her hands exploring him properly soon.

She shifted back when he went to ease himself out of his trousers. Her eyes glinted in anticipation at the sight of him. Keita wrapped her fingers about him and he groaned. A great pulsing ache ran through him. He gritted his teeth and forced a breath through them while she explored him.

“No more,” he sputtered out as she made an experimental pumping movement with her hand. If she continued like that, he’d burst before he was even inside her.

He gripped her hips and had every intention of thrusting up inside her but two things broke his haze. First, the remembrance that she had been an innocent only a day ago and he had not been as gentle as he should have been. Then the metal around her neck brought a burning sensation to his stomach. He could not take her like this. The metal would hurt and hinder her. By the gods, how he hated that sign of her ownership. He longed to tear it from her and take her as a free woman.

So he forced himself to slow down and eased her over to the ground next to him. The crop around them crushed to mould around their bodies, hiding them from view.

“Roll over,” he told her.

“Thorarin?” She frowned but did as he said, offering him her back and rear.

He drew up her skirt and eyed the soft flesh of her rear. Another groan nearly left his throat. He hooked an arm around her and coaxed her into the cradle of his body. Then he lifted her leg to hook it over his, opening her to him. When he lined himself up with her and inched in, her body trembled. He kissed the side of her face and closed his eyes to relish the sensation of her body enclosing him. Never was there a moment more perfect.