Riveted (44 page)

“Jesus Christ.” His chair crashed back, and then he was at her side, his arm around her waist. He steered her to a seat. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Mostly bruised.”

Paolo appeared beside her with a bowl of steaming water in his hands and a towel. David took the cloth, gently dabbed her forehead.

“What happened? Did the troll tip?”

“The foreman clubbed me.”

David froze. She’d seen him kill a man. She’d never seen him murderous. He spoke a single word, lips peeled back from bared teeth.

“Where?”

“He’s already dead. He was hitting one of the men. I yelled at him to stop. He came after me, but I didn’t think he would hit me.”

Still shaking with rage, he dabbed at the blood again. “But he did.”

“Yes. I hit him a few times with the spanner. Then one of the men caught him in the head with the pickaxe.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“I’ll find out. I’m forever in his debt.”

No need for that. “I already thanked him.”

“Annika!” Källa paused at the entrance to the snow tunnel, staring at her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tip the troll?”

Annika glanced up, met David’s gaze. She had to laugh. He still wasn’t. “No.”

“The foreman clubbed her,” Paolo supplied.

Källa sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand clenched, as if around the handle of a sword. “Where is he?”

Annika only shook her head, then rolled her tongue across the roof of her mouth. The taste of sour and sickness still lingered. “I need to wash.”

David bent, picked her up, cradling her against his chest.

“I can walk,” she said.

“But I need to hold you.”

She smiled, laid her head against his shoulder. “All right, then.”

In the bath chamber, Annika rinsed out her mouth. While
the tub filled, she dunked her head under the stream of running water, gritting her teeth against the sting in her scalp.

“It’ll start bleeding again,” David said, a clean towel in hand.

She pressed her fingers to the cut, looked. Only a little blood. She accepted the towel and pressed it against her head, using her free hand to remove her boots and stockings. After rolling her trousers, she sat in the chair and draped her legs over the edge of the tub, let her feet soak up the heat.

“We’re leaving tomorrow for Smoke Cove,” David said. When she glanced up at him, eyes wide, he nodded. “Paolo agreed that we should begin working on the other project.”

She leaned against the back of the chair with a happy sigh. “And he wants you with him, so Lorenzo won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

“Yes.” He crouched beside her. The crinkle of paper sounded. Her gaze dropped to his hands. “I was saving this.”

A butter candy. He untwisted the wrapper and slipped it into his mouth. Her breath caught as he rose, moving in for a slow kiss. The candy melted between them, creamy and sweet, and he lingered
over her lips long after it had gone. As if reluctant, he finally lifted his head, but remained close, his breath mingling with hers.

“It’s still perfect,” he said.

And could be more perfect. She wound her arms around his neck. “If you carry me to our bed.”

The muscles in his shoulders stiffened. “You’re certain?”

“I want to.” But still she felt his hesitation. “You don’t?”

“Oh, yes. But there’s more to consider than that.” His palm covered her belly. “Other consequences.”

He would be a good father. But he was right. Annika wasn’t yet sure what she’d do next, where she’d go when he finished the project in Smoke Cove. It might be best to wait before having a baby. “Then don’t spend your seed inside me.”

“There’s still a risk.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Not alone. I’ll take it with you.” He lifted her out of the chair, her bare feet dripping. “A father or not, I’ll be there for you, give you anything you ever need.”

He’d already given her his love. That was all she needed.

Her heart pounded with every step. He carried her through the snow tunnel, ducking into the chamber. She couldn’t look away from the bed. The lamp burned low, dancing shadows across the ice walls. He eased down with her, no candy between them now, but the kiss just as sweet.

He paused to look at her, his hand shaking as he caressed her cheek. Then his mouth was on hers again until she was panting, breathless. Her head fell back and his lips trailed the length of her neck, wringing a moan from her throat. Big palms cupped her breasts, fingers teasing the peaks into aching hardness. Oh, he’d learned her body so quickly.

She pulled the hem of her tunic up and over her head. Cool air kissed her nipples, drawing gooseflesh and a shiver over her skin.

His tongue traced the curve of her breast, flicked across her nipple, and she shuddered again.

“Too cold?”

“No.” Inside, she was burning.

“Do you want the light on?”

“It makes no difference. I just imagine you over me.”

He nodded, kissed the tip of her breast before sitting back. With his gaze on hers, he reached for his collar, dragged his shirt off over his head.

Oh.
She hadn’t imagined him perfectly, but near to. Her fingers had already traveled the corrugated muscle of his abdomen, the hard planes of his chest. His runes gathered in the hollow of his throat, swinging away from his skin as he leaned forward, tossing the shirt across their trunk. Strong collarbones supported broad shoulders. Muscles bunched in his upper arms, leaving a smooth meld from flesh to steel above his hinged elbow.

Her gaze rose to his again, and she saw the vulnerability there. He’d made this effort. She’d offer honesty in return.

“I knew that prosthetic was well made, and thought I might stare at it in appreciation. But, David, it hardly compares to the rest. I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my eyes off any of you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I’m brave enough to show you the rest.”

“I wouldn’t care if you never did.” She bit her lip. “No, that is a lie. I want to see this.”

She stroked her hand down the front of his trousers, found him hard and ready. He stiffened and groaned in response.

“May I look now?” She was utterly a wolf.

“Yes.”

By touch, she unbuckled the waist, watching his expression. His smile was teasing, his gaze hot.

“You won’t see it if you’re looking at my face.”

“If it keeps growing, it will be tall enough to pop up between us.”

His body shook on a laugh. She grinned, glanced down.
Oh.
She’d imagined this, too, but not everything. Fine black hair arrowed down from his navel and thickened at the base of his shaft. His heavy length overfilled her two hands, his testicles a firm weight in her palm. Tight skin stretched over the head—and had been so silky against her tongue, salty and slick. Her fingers closed around him.

David sucked a sharp breath. “No, Annika. I want to last inside you.”

This time. She let go, spreading his trousers farther open and back over his rigid buttocks, exposing ridges of muscle than ran in a
V
from his lean hips to his groin. Annika moaned, her body clenching as she realized: all of that strength would be behind his long shaft, driving into her.

Then David was over her again, his lips on her breast a shock of heat after the cool air. Annika cried out, her back arching as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. Bracing his weight on one hand, he slipped the other down over her stomach, beneath her waistband. His fingers found her wet.

With a rough groan, he shoved her trousers down. Her drawers went with them. Even as Annika kicked them free of her ankles, his hand slid between her legs. Two long fingers sank deep. Oh, but this time she wanted more. His hand thrust against her. Her hips jerked into a desperate roll.

She gripped his shoulders. “David. Please, David.”

His mouth left her breast, found her lips in a hot, rough kiss. “I’ll bring you close first. Make sure you’re wet. If anything hurts, I’ll stop.”

It hurt not having him. “I won’t stop you.”

“Promise me.”

His thumb rubbed over her clitoris. Her back suddenly bowed, body trembling. She clung to his shoulders, shaking her head. She wouldn’t promise this. She never wanted him to stop.

Desperation made her lie. “It has to hurt the first time.”

Because it probably wouldn’t. She’d taken his fingers, and there was only pleasure here, maddening desire, a deepening ache. But she would say anything to reassure him. Anything to be certain he was inside her.

“Then stop me if there’s more than a little pain.”

Relieved, she nodded. Anticipation and need boiled through her as he settled between her thighs—and a sharp coil of nervousness. Why did he fear hurting her so much? Annika hadn’t worried about pain before, but now she did. Her body slowly stiffened, tense as she waited for him to tear her apart.

He came over her, resting his weight on his right forearm, his left reaching between them. His face was directly above hers, but he was looking down.

“I’ll try to be slow.” His voice was tight with strain. “Not rough like this morning.”

Those three hard thrusts against her.
Mine.
A jolt of arousal shot through her at the memory, was echoed by a needy throb deep inside. She felt him against her, looked down. Angling his hips, he guided his shaft to her entrance. The wide tip pushed through her slick folds—too far. He slid up over her mound, the head glistening.

He groaned. His chest rose on heavy, rasping breaths. He held himself still, as if regaining control. After a long moment, he asked hoarsely, “Will you spread your legs wider?”

She did, aware of the soft prickle of his wool trousers on the inside of her thighs. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she glanced up at his face. Tension held his jaw tight. His body shook as he lifted back, guided himself slowly to her again.

Desperate not to hurt her. Taking so much care.

With his steel thumb against the top of his shaft, he angled the head toward her. He slid through her folds again, nudged against her entrance. His back flexed, ever so slightly. Pressure built against her opening. Her breath came in rapid gasps.

“Annika.”

She glanced up. His dark gaze locked with hers. Below, the pressure rose almost to pain and then suddenly became a burning sting, a tight stretch. Unbidden, a whimper of uncertainty escaped her lips.

David instantly stilled. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She looked down. He hadn’t gone in very far. Just the wide head, lodged inside her.

A quiver raced through his body. He strained above her, every muscle stiff and his tendons standing in sharp relief. “Am I hurting you?”

No. It just felt bigger than she’d expected. Stranger, too.

Her hands slid down his shoulders, gripped his biceps. “I can take more.”

She watched him slide deeper, stretching her to the verge of pain but not over, it was just intrusive, and odd, and all that she could feel as he sank halfway into her was more pressure, pushing outward from her core as if he invaded all of her, not just this space between her thighs. Then he stopped, withdrew slightly, and she saw the slick moisture oiling his shaft, because he’d been inside her, and she was wet, so wet and ready for him to drive deep. Her body tightened, squeezing around him, and she gasped.

He froze. “Stop?”

“No. Oh, no.” She raised her hips with a deep, needy moan, pushing herself up and forcing him deeper. “David. More.”

Bracing both hands beside her shoulders, he rocked against her, each shallow thrust sinking farther into her, until he was locked against her, deep, so deep, he couldn’t go any deeper until her back arched and her thigh dragged up over his hip, and then he was. Annika cried his name on a sobbing breath. Her inner muscles clenched around his thick shaft, unbearably full and tight inside her.

With a tortured moan, he drew back. She writhed as he pressed forward again, trying to ease the pressure, trying to increase it,
trying to draw out the exquisite sensation of David sliding deep, then pistoning against her, into her, so slow at first then a quicker, more desperate pace. Then slowing again, his head hanging, the mattress bunched in a fierce grip.

Trying to not spend. An effort for him, torture for her when he stopped. She urged him on, and his head lifted, his gaze burning into hers. Determination set his jaw. His hand found her knee, pushed it higher. Pushed his thick length deeper.

Oh, but she couldn’t take more. A keening cry erupted from her with each hard thrust. Then shallow strokes, as he exhaled in bursts through gritted teeth. Hard again, her breasts swaying with the force of it and warm steel pressing her knee higher and rough fabric a soft burn against her thighs. Then only David, so deep, her body tightening around him then shuddering as she cried out, clenching around the heavy shaft still driving back and forth inside her. David groaned and shook. With a final, deep stroke, he suddenly left her empty, his hot seed spilling onto her belly.

His chest heaving, he settled between her legs again, his weight braced on his forearms. Annika wrapped him tight. Sweat glistened over his skin. He stroked hair back from her forehead, kissed her mouth, then rolled over so that she lay atop him.

Utterly replete, she kissed him languidly, then said, “I want you back inside me.”

He smiled against her lips. “Give me twenty minutes to recover. And you can be like this, on top.”

She wanted to be in every position. “And then we’ll figure out a way to bend over like wolves—like we almost did this morning.”

“Ten minutes to recover,” he said, and then grinned up at her when she laughed. “And I’ve already figured it out. You will kneel on the edge of the bed, and I will stand on the floor behind you.”

She couldn’t wait. “Kiss me until then.”

“As long as you like.”

“Forever,” she said, and he got off to a perfect start.