Alrek followed the line of her leg down to her foot and circled an ankle. Her pliant flesh and small frame made his muscles tense in restraint. The need to lose himself in her warred with longing to relish everything, to explore her body and show his love for her.
Leaving her ankle, he traced a path up the inside of her thigh. He groaned at the warmth of it and she sucked in a sharp breath. He shifted to sit on the bed beside her and he spotted the rapid rise and fall of her chest. His fingers pressed higher still, her heat beckoning to him. With his hand buried under her skirts, he leaned forward and she fell back, vibrant hair spilling over the pillow. Alrek drew in a heavy breath and put a hand to the side of her head so as to pause and admire her.
“You are such a beautiful Pict.”
“And you are a beautiful Viking,” she replied, her expression serious.
Her lack of a smile didn’t disturb him. He couldn’t bring himself to grin at being called beautiful, something no one else had ever called him. Handsome, aye, but never beautiful. The torrent of emotion pouring between them stole their usual humour. After this there would be no going back. Their two cultures, usually so opposed, would come together this night and even the gods would not stop them.
“Do you think perhaps the gods always intended for my voyage to end here?” he asked, voice gravelly as if he had swallowed sand.
Ilisa reached up and stroked a hand across his face, coming to rest on his jawline. “Aye, I do.”
He claimed her mouth then, confident she felt the same as he did, confident nothing would tear them apart after this. No wolves or Vikings or Picts could come between them. Her hot mouth opened to his, willing and eager. Alrek tasted her desperate need and he let his fingers slip higher until they met the juncture of her thighs. A primitive sound rose from his throat as he felt her wet heat and the evidence of her desire.
A feminine moan escaped her in response and he swallowed it, tangled his tongue with hers until they were both panting. He stroked her cleft deftly, firmly, and savoured the quiver of her legs as she parted herself wide for him. Her hands grew wild, nails digging into his back and shoulders. Their kisses increased in fervour until he was convinced he was drowning again. Drowning in her heat and taste.
The first tremors of her climax surprised him. In spite of his best attempts, he hadn’t been paying enough attention to her pleasure. Her kisses and the powerful draw of her stole his reason and his honour. Alrek took her mouth fiercely as her body trembled under his fingers. He kept up the same forceful pace until she bucked and stiffened. Ilisa cried his name but the sound came out muffled against his mouth and dampened by pleasure.
He let his fingers drop and skimmed his hand up under her gown to cup a hip. Fingers pressing into her pliant flesh, he lifted himself up to view the cloud of pleasure in her gaze and her dewy skin, slick from her climax.
“By the gods,” he spilled out, “Ilisa, I thought you a siren but you are so much more.”
“And I thought you a mere barbaric Viking but you are so much more, my Alrek.”
My Alrek. How he treasured those words. For he was hers, just as she was his now. They might not have joined yet but Ilisa was in his heart, in his soul.
“Come now, let me see you,” he said as he drew back and lifted the hem of her skirts. “The sight of your sweet body has been addling my mind since I first saw you.”
“You looked did you not?” Her lips quirked.
“A little,” he confessed. “I could not resist. I am not honourable when it comes to you, Ilisa. I am a mere mortal and you a siren. I have dreamed of your beautiful body for many a night since.”
She came up onto her knees and helped him with the laces of her bodice as his fingers fumbled with the small ties. Together they pulled it over her head,taking her chemise with it. She kneeled before him, pale, soft, curvaceous and enchanting. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in messy waves and he speared his fingers into it, tilting her head back to take his kiss.
Ilisa’s hands scrabbled across his chest and they lifted onto their knees so skin touched skin. Alrek hissed at the feel of her full breasts and tight nipples scalding him. While she kissed across his jawline and down his neck, he frantically tugged off his shirt, relieved to be free of the constricting material. His cock touched her bare stomach as he pulled her back into him. Shards of pleasurable pain shot through him and he reached down to cup her bottom, to hold her closer.
In one movement, he had her lifted, an arm keeping her pinned to him and she caught on, wrapping her legs around him and making his head spin. Arousal scented the air, her lavender fragrance mingled with it to create a perfume that proved to drive him to the edge. He manoeuvred so he sat on the edge of the bed, her legs still tangled about his waist. Ilisa rubbed herself against his shaft and his eyes threatened to roll into the back of his head.