Page 124 of A Curse Carved in Bone
“I can do two things at once.”
I snorted, and he shrugged. “When I was locked up at Grindill, I had a great deal of time on my hands while I waited for you to rescue me. Time to think about what might come after you defeated all your enemies.”
Warmth suffused my chest at his admission that he thought about our future the way I did. Fantasies about what our life could look like if we only persevered. That I was the future he reached for in his darkest hours, just as I reached for him.
“It doesn’t have to be here. If you want to be nearer to Selvegr, we could rebuild your parents’ home.”
I turned my head to hide my smile at the faint hint of nervousness in his voice, unfamiliar because Bjorn was nothing if not wholly confident. But this was new. For him. And forme.
“Here is perfect,” I said. “I like the idea of having a warm bath whenever I desire it.”
“Do you desire it now?” His hands closed on my waist, lips brushing my neck. “Please say yes, for you taste like a mouthful of dirt.”
“You should look at your own reflection before you cast stones.” I turned in his arms, kissing him deeply and burying my fingers in his hair, not remotely caring that both of us were filthy with mud, blood, and worse. “Actually, I take that back. You are vain enough without getting in the habit of admiring your own reflection.”
He laughed, allowing me to walk him backward in the direction of the cave with the hot springs, leaving clothes in our wake.
“Marry me, Born-in-Fire,” he whispered as he drew me into the warm water, the current washing away the filth of our ordeals if not the memories. “Be my wife. Build a life with me in this place.”
“Are you sure?” I curved my hand around his face. “Are you sure you will be content with a quiet life?”
Because I needed peace. Needed to put away weapons and chain mail. Needed to hang up my shield. Needed to heal my body and my soul, and I did not foresee a time that I’d ever want to go back to the life I once dreamedof.
“The life I dream of is with you, Freya,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing. As long as you are in my arms, I will be whole. Will you marry me?”
I smiled as the warm water wrapped around us, the darkness holding us close, because I’d fought for this fate and won. “Yes.”
A drop of water struck my forehead, and I frowned up at the ceiling of the home Bjorn and I had built together. “The roof is leaking again.”
Bjorn muttered something that sounded distinctly likewe should burn it down and try again,and I elbowed him in the ribs. “We will do no such thing.”
“It would be easier than fixing that leak.” He rolled on top of me, his loose hair falling down to brush my cheeks as he kissed me. “We could go back to living in a tent.”
“The tent was cold,” I reminded him.
“I don’t recall hearing you complain.”
His lips moved to my jaw, then my throat, and heat kindled between my thighs though the gods knew that the reason we’d slept so late was that we’d been up past the midnight hour doing just this. I traced my fingers down the muscles of his back, as hard as they’d been a year ago despite neither of us having wielded a weapon since swearing loyalty to Leif as our jarl.
This life was harder, in its own way, laboring to survive rather than fighting, but I’d relished every moment of it. Falling asleep in my husband’s arms, his breath warm against my cheek in the winter night, only to wake to the feel of his touch. A touch that made me burn as much now as it ever had, the love I felt for him giving life to me more thoroughly than the air in my lungs.
A droplet of water splattered against Bjorn’s bare back, but he ignored it, moving his way down my body to my breasts. Outside, the goats were raising a racket in their desire to be milked, the rooster reminding us that it was past dawn and he wished to be fed, the horses adding to the cacophony of noise.
“There is work to be done,” I murmured, my smile growing as he growled, “It can wait.”
“You’re a terrible farmer.”
“I only pretend to be a terrible farmer so as not to provoke the jealousy of our neighbors.” His cock pressed into me, a soft sigh escaping my lips as my body stretched around his girth. “Keeps the peace, else they might seek vengeance against me for having nothing to…hang their shovels uponwhen their wives make comparisons. It is a kindness.”
“Gods know, I wed you for your altruism.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, every part of me wanting more.
“Liar. You married me for my good looks.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t your modesty.”
Bjorn gave a low laugh, then shifted his weight, the angle of his thrusts making me gasp, my climax already rising, the ache of standing on the brink of pleasure stealing wit and words from my tongue as my husband, my love, my life, claimed me. I fell over the edge, taking him with me, my heart aching with as much pleasure as my body when he murmured, “I want for nothing in life because I have you.”
Wrapped in furs and in his arms, I closed my eyes, no part of me wanting to move. But then I heard a faint snap of shifting rushes, and Bjorn yelped as a melting crush of snow broke through the roof, landing square on his head.
