Hands wound into his hair, she teased him with her frantic movements, though he suspected she had little intention of tormenting him. She moved on instinct, her need for relief as great as his. Alrek took a moment to lean her back so he could taste her breasts and savour the fullness of them tipped by hard nipples. She moved restlessly against his mouth while he nipped and kissed. He drew a nipple in, relishing the feel of it against the roof of his mouth and her sweet, keening response.
“Alrek,” she begged.
He could hold back no longer—any more than a man could hold back the tide. Alrek lifted her and used his hands on her hips to bring her swiftly down. He froze, his mind filled with the feel and scent of her. A cry from her cut through the haze but when she started moving, his fear he’d hurt her abated.
“By the gods, Ilisa, so tight, so hot,” he pressed through clenched teeth.
“Alrek, more,” she demanded.
His lips quirked then. His feisty Pictish woman making demands of him once more. Alrek admired the arch of her neck and pressed his lips to it as her head lolled back and he took control. Boneless in his arms, he pounded into her, fast and furious. Control deserted him. Pliant flesh, her soft words of encouragement drove him on.
Before long, her body convulsed around him. He pushed harder and watched the pleasure break across her face. Her gaze fastened onto his and her pulsing sex brought him to the brink. Hot, molten satisfaction thundered through his body and he barely withdrew in time. His seed spurted onto her stomach and between her thighs as she remained straddled across his lap, her arms around his neck, limp and satiated.
Alrek took several moments to gather his breath and he enjoyed stroking her back and the tickle of her lips as she flattened tiny, exhausted kisses to the side of his neck. After much time, he eased her off his lap and laid her on the bed. Once he had her cleaned up, he slid in beside her and she snuggled into his chest. Alrek let loose a sigh of satisfaction.
“Your bed is much more comfortable than mine.”
Ilisa giggled. “Then do not leave it.”
He pressed a kiss to her head and eyed the dying flames. “I do not intend to. Ever.”
“What do you mean?” Tension sat in her voice, making it slightly higher pitched than normal.
“I will stay,” he told her. “I cannot leave you. The gods brought me here for a reason. It was to meet you.”
“But, Alrek, ‘tis dangerous for a Viking to be in the land of the Picts.” Ilisa rubbed a hand across his chest.
“We have had no trouble since Galan left. We are bothering no one out here and few would be willing to go up against me. I can keep us safe, I promise.”
“I do not doubt it but still I fear. The world is changing so quickly, quicker than I could have imagined. The Scots will not take to you any better than my people will.” She raised herself on an elbow and peered down at him. “I do not want to think of you coming to harm.”
Alrek cupped her cheek and smoothed a thumb across it. “Then do not think on it, hjarta mitt.”
“What does that mean?”
“My heart.” He took her free hand and pressed it to his chest. “You are my heart, Ilisa. I love you.” A smile broke across her face. To him, she glowed. His heart—the heart she owned, inhabited—swelled.
“I love you, Alrek, my Viking warrior.”
“Good.” He lifted his head to press a firm kiss to her lips. “Then it is settled. I shall stay and become a farmer.”
“What of the voyage you had planned?”
“I had intended to travel to Iceland. There is much land there.”
“So you were to become a farmer there?” Her mouth curled.
“Is that so hard to imagine?”
“Now that I have seen you work as a sheephand, mayhap not, but you are still a wild and rugged warrior. Will you not get bored of tending to sheep? Would Iceland not bring you some excitement?”
“Nay, my fighting days are behind me. I want sons and a beautiful wife. A peaceful life. I want that with you and it matters not where I am.”
“I should like children,” she said softly, resting her head on his chest once more. “Donnie and I were only married for a short while before he was killed. We had no time to try.”
Jealousy threatened to bubble in his chest but he recalled the exquisite woman in his arms and the pain she must have gone through. He was here with her now. There was no need for jealousy, selfish emotion that it was, particularly when she had suffered such loss.
“I am sorry my countrymen killed your family.”
“You are not like them, Alrek.”
He swallowed his guilt.
Chapter Eight