Page 20 of Heart of the Wolf
On a helpless moan, she parted for him, sighing when his tongue laid claim to her mouth, tasting of sweet wine. The spot between her legs grew sticky and uncomfortably taut. Brielle rubbed her thighs together, hoping the friction would ease the unfamiliar ache.
Dragging her fingers through his hair, she hummed at how silky it was. Flames licked up her spine, drowning her entire body in its radiance.
She never allowed herself to imagine how it would feel to have a man hold her, let alone kiss her. It was the closest thing to Heaven she had ever experienced.
Being bold, she yanked on his hair, never wanting it to end.
He grunted, and a smile grew along his lips against hers. The pad of his thumb stroked a spot on her nape, gently moving her face where he wanted. When she moaned again, he groaned a defeated noise, ending their heated exchange with a barely restrained nip on her bottom lip.
Panting, she trailed her fingers over the swollen and kiss-bitten skin of her lips. Her gaze flicked to the hard length straining the fabric covering him before finding his gaze once more. The swirls of gray and silver were long gone, eclipsed by black-blown pupils.
“We must stop,” he said, sounding pained as he clenched his hands into fists. “I am a weak man. If you keep making those pretty noises, I won’t be able to resist you.”
So don’t. She wanted to say, pushing the thought aside. Instead, she splayed a hand over her ribs, trying to catch her breath. Leif ran fingers through his hair, mussing the strands before scratching his beard.
“I wouldn’t call you weak,” she breathed, half laughing at the absurdity.
Unable to withstand the distance, he took her face in his hands, angling her head back. Color swam back into his eyes, his pupils returning to their usual size.
“Beautiful women make even the strongest men bend.”
“Beautiful,” she snorted, the word sounding foreign on her tongue.
“Yes. Beautiful. I would lay this world at your feet, if you wished it.” His hands caressed her curves, settling on her hips. “I would kill anyone who hurt you. I would rip my still-beating heart out of my chest and give it to you if it brought you joy.”
She gasped, about to protest, when he shook his head. His hand wrapped around hers, bringing her palm to his lips and kissing it. Steely eyes found hers, never looking away.
“I am Konungr. I bow to no one,” he growled, nostrils flaring. “Except you.”
“Me?”
Something in her chest cracked, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She refused to cry, blinking away the tears before they fell. In response to the tension tightening her limbs, Leif mumbled a low noise, sounding more wolf than man.
“It is late,” he intoned, running her braid through his fingers. “You need rest. Let us sleep.”
Not waiting for a response, he loosened the ties of her bodice. The worn leather fell to the dirt floor with a thud. Her breathing quickened, her chest squeezing. When his fingers found the sleeve of her dress, a scowl furrowed his brow.
“This is too thin. Not worthy of you. Tomorrow. I will fetch you something finer.”
Rather than argue with him, she nodded. When he didn’t move to get up, her eyes widened as her arms wrapped around her middle.
“In your bed? Together?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Yes,” he chuckled, amusement coloring his features.
Slower than a lynx stalking through the mountains, Leif crawled beside her. Burrowing his nose into her curls, he inhaled, making her shiver. He hummed, feathering kisses over her jaw. Teeth grazed her pulse, and he leaned back, pulling her into his bare chest.
Closing her eyes, the faint scent of leather and smoke filled her senses.
He murmured quiet words in Norse, palming the back of her head. She didn’t need to know what he said. The intent behind each word was clear, even if she didn’t know for certain what they meant.
The meanings echoed in the strength of his arm secured over her waist.
Promises of protection, loyalty, and courage lulled her to sleep.
Chapter six
Brielle
