God's Eye (The Northwomen Sagas #1) (10 page)

She thought he was rejecting her.

“Brenna, no! Hold!” He caught up with her just as she had taken hold of the saddle, and he pulled her back to him. “I would have you. I
dream
of it. But I won’t take your maidenhead with a rut on the hard ground.” He brushed his fingers over her cheekbone. “If you would have me, let me come to you. Don’t wander in the dark tonight. Stay in your room and let me come to you.”

He kissed her again. This time, she was less rigid but still not responsive. With his lips grazing hers, he murmured, “Open your mouth, Brenna. Let me show you.”

She did, and he pressed his lips hard to hers and slid his tongue into her mouth. When his tongue found hers, she jumped and pulled away again. But not far this time, and this time the look on her face was surprise, not shock or suspicion. He smiled.

Then something truly magical happened. She smiled. And it was magnificent. Vali was, indeed, ensorcelled. By a brave, lonely girl with a brilliant, rare smile.

“May I come to you?”

She nodded—and grabbed his tunic in her fists. Pulling him close, she rose up on her toes and offered him her mouth.

He could hardly refuse a gift like that.

~oOo~

Vali had not yet grown used to living in the castle. It was cold and dark and felt more like a cave than a home, even in rooms full of sumptuous furnishings and fabrics. The long corridors lined with heavy doors confused him. More than once, he’d opened a door expecting to find his own bed behind it and had instead found something else, sometimes to his own embarrassment and the true resident’s. Once or twice, after a bit too much mead, he’d nearly convinced himself that the rooms shifted behind the doors.

But he knew Brenna’s door. She had taken one of the smaller rooms, at the end of a corridor on the east side of the building—about as far from his room as she could have made herself. This was not his first time walking down this corridor at night, the flickering light from the torch sconces breaking up what would have been oppressive darkness. He had trouble sleeping here, as he knew Brenna did. In his own wakefulness, he had seen her wandering. Once, he was ashamed to admit even to himself, he’d followed her back, almost to her room. She’d nearly caught him, too. Twice more after that, he’d gone to her room with the intent of knocking, but he hadn’t. He’d wanted her to come to him.

He doubted that she ever would have. Especially knowing now what he knew, that she had no experience of men, he knew she would never have made the move that would have brought them together.

But he had, and now, standing before the heavy oaken door of her bedchamber, he knocked.

After several seconds, as he prepared to knock again, he heard the heavy hasp lift, and the door creaked open. The room was warm and golden with a well-stoked fire. Before that welcoming glow stood a vision in white. Brenna had freed her hair from its braids, and she wore only a loose white gown with flowing sleeves.

“Gods,” he breathed. “Brenna.”

Looking up at him with wide, wary eyes, Brenna stepped backward and let him into the room. He closed the door, then went to her, reaching out to take her hands that she’d clasped together over her belly. When she tipped her head to watch their hands, her long, fair waves cascaded over her shoulders.

“You are beautiful, shieldmaiden.”

She lifted her face and met his eyes, and he pulled her to him and kissed her. As she had by the river, before they’d ridden back, she opened her mouth to him and let her body rest against his, and when his tongue entered her mouth, she let hers slide against it. He groaned and tangled his fists into her thick mass of hair—it was soft, all of her was soft, so much softer than he could have imagined, and as he held her close, he forgot himself and took her mouth with much more force than he’d intended, rocking his hips so that she would feel his need.

Wedging her hands between them, she pushed firmly on his chest until he knew himself again and released her. They were both breathless. Her red lips were all the redder now, and her cheeks had a pinkness made by his beard.

“Vali, I…no one…” She huffed and gave up.

He didn’t need more. It had been a very long time since he’d lain with a maid, and he had never lain with any woman for whom he felt so strongly, but he understood. “Forgive me. My need for you makes me rash.” He took her hand again and kissed it. “Why don’t we begin by showing each other ourselves.”

Brenna swallowed, and Vali saw the shieldmaiden rise up in her eyes—this was a fear she could contend with. Taking a step back, she shook her golden mane back from her shoulders and then pulled on a ribbon at her chest. The neck of her gown opened wide, and she shrugged, letting the soft fabric fall to the floor on a whisper.

And there she was, naked before him, her back to the fire. She stood, straight and proud, the shieldmaiden daring him to look. He let his eyes take their fill of her. Strength radiated from her, in her posture, in her long neck and squared shoulders, in the carved contours of her arms and legs, in the flat firmness of her belly and in the slimness of her hips, barely flaring from her waist. There was strength in the savage scars on her leg and her shoulder.

But there was softness, too, in the creamy pale of her skin, in her full breasts tipped with a rosy red like her lips, in the soft puff of dark gold at the join of her thighs, in the silken fall of her long locks, slipping forward over her shoulders and covering her breasts. Perhaps she had been favored by the gods after all.

When he met her eyes again, those wonderful, unique eyes, she cocked her head, like she was waiting for him.

Ah, yes—to remove his own clothes.

He was dressed as he had been when last he’d seen her, in leather breeches and boots and a belted woolen tunic. In safety, he slept without clothing of any kind. Under threat, he slept clothed and armed. To come to Brenna, he’d left his weapons behind. Now he unfastened his belt and sat on a tall wooden chair to pull off his boots. Then he stood and shed his tunic.

Brenna had seen his bare chest many times by now. He preferred to fight bare-chested, and after he’d been wounded, she’d become quite familiar with his back. Yet she watched him avidly, and when he turned from her—unsure why he did—to open his breeches and shed them, too, she came to him, and he felt her hand, small and rough, on his back. She traced the new scar. The skin around it was numb, and her touch felt strange, like faint lightning against his flesh.

He let his breeches fall and stepped out of them. Then he felt her pulling at the leather thong that bound the end of his braid. She pulled it loose and dragged her fingers through his long hair until the braid was undone as high as she could reach. He took over and unwove the hair at the top of his head, then shook it all out.

He turned to find her smiling at him. It took his breath away. Then she looked down, between them, and saw the part of him that showed his need most clearly, and she gasped her breath away as well.

She brought her eyes up to his. “I…I do not…I am…”

He put his hands on her shoulders, under the drape of her hair. She shook like a leaf in a breeze. The shieldmaiden was gone; left in her place was simply a girl, innocent and shy. “Let me take you to bed, Brenna. Let us touch and get to know each other. We need not rush.”

When she nodded, he took her hand and led her to her own bed. They lay together, face to face, embracing. Brenna leaned forward and pressed her lips to Vali’s chest. The touch sent sparks of heat through his torso and into his loins, and he sucked in a heavy breath and clutched her close.

For a long moment she was quiet in his arms, her body still shaking. Indeed, the shaking had become more pronounced, not less, and he leaned back and caught her chin in his hand. He felt wetness on her skin.

“Brenna?” He lifted her face and saw that she was crying. “Have I frightened you?”

She shook her head at once, and he could see her seeking her courage. With a deep breath and a hard swallow, she said, “No. I am not frightened. Only overwhelmed. I’ve never…no one has ever touched me with…this.”

“With what, my love?”

“With that. With love.” A smile, sad and small, and tears topped over again. She ducked her head against his chest, and he held her, his heart swelling.

She was innocent of so much more than coupling. Vali ached to think how lonely and hard her life had been, full of blood and battle but bereft of kindness and love. He could not take her, cause her the pain it would cause her, when even the gentlest touch was new and overwhelming to her.

“You should always be held with love, Brenna. Let me do only that tonight. Let that be enough. Sleep, and when you wake, I will be here, loving you.”

Her only answer was to hold him more tightly. And, gradually, to stop shaking.

Brenna woke in a dark room, feeling rested and comfortable. Before she opened her eyes, she understood that something was different, yet familiar, and with that understanding came the memory of the night before.

Vali had come to her. She had slept in his arms. She was still in his arms; the scent and feel of him was all around her—it was that which was familiar.

Once before, she had woken with him so close—when she had fallen asleep lying next to him in the healer’s tent. That had been the last time, until now, that she’d slept well.

She tipped her head back, and his beard brushed over her forehead. It was soft, much softer than she’d expected, and she let herself shake her head lightly, savoring the touch of it on her skin.

“You are awake,” his voice rumbled, quiet and deep, and she froze, feeling abashed. Then he bent his head down so that their eyes could meet, and he smiled.

His eyes were a bright, brilliant blue, the color clear even in the faint light, and this close to him, with the warm glow of the fire reflected in them, Brenna thought they seemed like the faceted jewels that had adorned so many of the prince’s treasures. His smile was bright, too, his teeth white and straight and his full lips surrounded by that dark, lush beard.

Perhaps he was handsome, after all.

“Did you not sleep?” Brenna asked, and watched her hand come up so that her fingers could comb through his beard. He closed his eyes with a rough sigh.

“I slept. Though I admit that I watched you as I could. You are beautiful.”

He’d said that before; she was more comfortable pretending she hadn’t heard him. It wasn’t that she thought he was lying to her—it was that she didn’t know what sense to make of his admiration. So she dropped her eyes from his and focused elsewhere. Her fingers left his beard and smoothed over the hard, contoured planes of his broad chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos, the rampant bear and wolf.

Many berserkers had ritualized tattoos of a similar sort. The bear and the wolf were their special symbols. The most ferocious of the berserkers, who fought more like beasts than men, the
Úlfhéðnar, were thought to be Odin’s own warriors. Having seen Vali in battle, Brenna knew him to be Úlfheðinn. She had noticed, too, that he had kept the head and tail of the wolf that had become his main fur, so that the animal itself was slung over his back, in the way of the Úlfhéðnar. He had as much of the Allfather’s special notice as she might possibly have.

She traced the bear tattoo over the rounded mass of his shoulder and down his arm, drawing over his scars, lingering in the valleys between each perfect muscle. She was entranced by the presence of him, so big and so firm, and his skin so soft.

Finally, Vali groaned. “Brenna. We lie bare together, skin to skin. I cannot take much more of your exploration. Forgive me.” He took her hand and kissed it, then leaned in to kiss her forehead.

When he moved next to turn back the furs and leave the bed, Brenna caught hold of him, hooking her hand around the muscle atop his shoulder. “Don’t.”

He stopped and looked into her eyes, so deeply. No one had ever seen her the way Vali did. She wondered what he saw inside her.

“What do you want of me?”

She wanted him to make sense of the feelings inside her. She had seen men and women coupling many times; often, she had slept in longhouses full of people or in camps just the same. Their people did not much stand on matters of privacy. But what she had seen seemed ugly, cursory, little different from animals mating. Grunt and sweat and groan. The feelings she had for Vali were not ugly. They were visceral—deep, deep inside her body, in places she’d never fully understood of herself—and they were compelling, making her want things she hadn’t wanted to want, but they were not ugly. They were beautiful.

She wanted him to love her.

“I want to understand what it is between us. I want why you came to my room.”

“And you’re certain?”

No, she was not. She didn’t understand enough to be certain. But she knew she wanted to understand. She nodded. “Yes.”

He settled the furs back over them and cupped her face in his hand—so broad and strong that he could have smothered her easily with just his palm. “If you will trust me, I will help you understand.”

Again, she nodded, and he leaned in and kissed her. No one had ever kissed her but Vali, but even without anyone to compare him to, Brenna knew that he was highly skilled. She was stunned by the sparking sensations that heated her body, simply by the touch of his lips. And his tongue in her mouth! What a thing that was! She could feel, she could almost taste, the small nick in its side, where his father had meant to sever it. Again and again, she found herself teasing at that spot while his tongue explored her mouth.

While she marveled at the kiss, at the way his beard scraped gently at her cheeks, at the feel of his breath on her skin, at the thick silk of his hair caught in her fist, Vali groaned hoarsely, into her mouth, and then his hand left her face. She felt his fingers sweep down her throat and over her collarbone, then down, over her chest.

His hand covered her breast, and Brenna jumped, breaking the kiss with a gasp. It…hurt. Her breast ached under the heat of his palm, and she felt the skin tighten, which only made it…hurt more. But without her bidding, her body arched, pushing itself into his touch, wanting it more. She wanted more. Then his hand shifted, and he drew the pad of his thumb over the pebble-hard point, and she cried out, “Wait!”

Vali went still, but kept his hand where it was. Not even in battle did Brenna’s heart beat as hard and fast as it beat now.

“Trust me. Let me help you understand.”

When she nodded, he rolled, putting her on her back, his body on hers. She could feel the long, hard heat of him pressing into her belly—her belly that ached low and deep, throbbing downward so that she felt swollen between her legs. Was she ill? “Vali, I don’t…”

“You will, shieldmaiden. Trust me.” With that, his hand left her breast, moving down, along her side, and he shifted his whole body as if to follow that course. She whimpered, mourning the loss of that strange, wonderful pain in her breast. But then his mouth was on her neck, sucking, his tongue teasing lightly at her skin, his beard tickling, and she whimpered for another reason entirely, and brought her other hand up, scraping back across his shorn scalp so that both hands could tangle in his hair and hold him close.

Every touch of his hand or his mouth made her throb at the place of her womanhood. She flexed her hips, a movement as involuntary as the arch of her back had been when he’d first touched her breast, and he groaned as her body pressed up against him. She felt the vibration of it, and the cool of it as his harsh breath dried the wet he’d made on her skin.

Vali moved his body down farther, and his beard brushed over the excitable bud of her nipple. Again, she cried out and arched up, feeling that not-pain, an intensity too strong to endure.

He stopped and resettled himself so that they were face to face again. Brenna was gratified to see that he seemed stunned, too, and his breath heaved his chest against hers. “You are a revelation, Brenna. Do you trust me?”

Again, she answered with a nod, and again he moved his body down, his skin sliding against hers, and she waited to see what he would do.

When he covered her breast with his mouth, Brenna cried out and twisted away, trying to sit up. Vali stopped and looked up, but held her in place. “Did I hurt you?”

“Y—N—I—I don’t know.” Now that his mouth was gone, her breast still ached; she could still feel traces of that shocking sensation, and she wanted it. All of this was so confusing. “No. Forgive me.”

He smiled—a smile came so easily to his face and looked like it belonged there. When Brenna smiled, she felt the rusty stretch of it in her cheeks. He reached with one hand and combed his fingers through her hair. “Brenna, heed me. What you feel, it’s good. It can be bliss, if only you will be easy and trust me. Give me your trust, shieldmaiden. I swear you won’t regret it.”

This time, when she nodded, she took a deep breath and let it out, as she did before a battle, making her body still and loose.

“Say the words.”

“I trust you.” She did trust him. But everything that had happened between them since he’d come upon her at the river was beyond her ken. It wasn’t in her nature to sit back and allow things to happen to her.

Vali took her breast once more into his mouth and sucked. Brenna drew in a sharp breath as his tongue flicked over her taut nipple, but she made herself lie as still as she could. Once she let herself truly feel what he was doing, she understood that it was not pain—it was as intense as pain, yes, but it was a pleasure far greater than any she’d known, greater even than his kiss, or his mouth on her neck, greater even than his hand where his mouth now was.

Then his hand came up and took the breast his mouth had neglected, and she had to bite down on her lip to keep a scream from finding sound.

She could no longer be still. What he was doing made more feeling than she could contain, and her body demanded to make some kind of response. Pressed between his heavy, broad body and the bed, she could only writhe, and gasp, and moan. She needed. Oh, how she needed. Her belly ached and cramped with need. Of what she had no idea, but when she lifted her hips and pressed her legs and all between them to the firm heat of him, she could feel that succor was near. As she rocked, trying to reach what she did not know, he grunted harshly over her breast, and his fingers clutched her flesh, pinching her nipple and digging into her hip.

Releasing her breast from his mouth, again he moved downward, kissing a trail over her ribs and down her belly. He reached back and pulled her hands from his hair, and the thick hank fell over her like a drape. It was cool; the fire had sputtered to mere embers, and the room beyond the heat of their bodies and the furs that surrounded them had gone dim and cold.

So distracted was she by the feel of his hair and by the touch of his hands on her breasts, still caressing and lightly pinching, making her body arch and twitch, she hadn’t realized where he’d been headed next, not until she felt his nose brush through her curls.

He couldn’t mean to kiss her there, could he? She had never seen such a thing, or heard of it.

“Vali! What?”

He chuckled, making her moan and twist beneath him. “Shhh. Trust, my love. Wait and see.”

She felt his breath against her most private place. He did mean to kiss her there.

At first, though, he did not. Instead, his hands went away from her breasts, and one grasped her hip as the other slid over and up between her thighs. It was his fingers that first touched her there, a place she only touched to clean, or when she had her blood.

She had felt stirrings before, and she had touched herself once or twice, when she was young, but the feeling had been inconsequential, and she had not thought to do so again. The feelings Vali had stirred were of the utmost consequence. Nothing had ever been so important in her life as what she felt when his fingertips, roughened by war, brushed again and again over the point that seemed to ache beyond all measure.

“Vali! Vali!” she gasped, afraid and eager all at once. This was the need, where it would be met. Where it
must
be met. Yet she could sense that all would be different for her when it was.