Chapter 21
Freydis
I wake before Ragnar the next morning. It's still dark outside the room. My body feels warm and comfortable, pressed against him. His arm pulled me closer to his chest, and I welcome the warmth his body gave me.
When I closed my eyes for a moment, I remembered everything, everything that happened last night. For a moment, shock runs through me. I don't even want to think about it.
Did I really do that? Demand that he take me like that? It felt as if something strong had taken ovrr me. I know the heat of the moment could have driven me to any length, but it didn't feel like it was me.
Still, I can't push away the images that flooded in my head, images of Ragnar sucking every part of me, the feeling of his hands on me, the incredible taste of his tongue on my core. I can't even find the words to compare the feeling. I've never felt that way before.
The way I wanted him to bury his cock inside me and fuck me.
I pulled myself from Ragnar's arm. He reaches out to hold me again, but I quickly moved away. Oh God! What am I even doing? Lusting over a man when I am betrothed to another?
My eyes are clear now, unlike last night, yet I still want to indulge in what happened. I still want him this morning.
I exhaled sharply.
I wanted to touch him.
I wanted him to touch me as he did last night. I wanted more from him.
When I turned my head to him, Ragnar was still asleep. His chest was bare, revealing scars and tattoos. I allowed my hand to trail across his chest. I touched him hungrily, as he had touched me yesterday.
I lowered my head in shame as I thought of what the King and Queen would say if I were caught.
Lagertha would call me a whore and send me to the Church to pray and ask for forgiveness. Harald would be so disappointed in me.
But what about the men who indulge their desires? Does it make me a sinner if I want to soak in the desires of my flesh?
I began to picture what happened last night, taking comfort in it.
I lay back on the bed next to him, and Ragnar leaned closer.
"Good morning," he whispered in my ear.
"Morning," I murmured.
"What happened last night..."
"I don't regret a thing," I said, inching closer to him. I felt his erection. His arms wrapped around my waist, one hand trailing between my thighs, and I gasped.
"I used to dream of nothing but war, the clash of steel in battle, the blood," he said, his breath fanning my neck. "But since the moment I laid eyes on ye, all I see when I close my eyes is your face."
His fingers moved to my clit, rubbing it, and I groaned as he gave me the pleasure I needed.
"I love you, Ragnar," I said. "The only future I wish for myself is by your side."
"Freyja—"
"I want to sail North with you," I said, feeling the bulge of his cock press against my lower back.
"Do ye mean it?"
"With every moment that passes, I see more reasons why I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't want to marry Brok. If you can help me escape from here..."
"But i don't want ye carrying regret in yer heart for the choice ye made," he said, kissing me.
"I also don't want you to regret choosing me."
"Regret choosing ye over another woman? I'd do it a thousand times, even if it means claiming ye with blood on me hands."
I sucked in a ragged breath as he pushed one finger inside me, a cry tearing from my lips.
"For all me life, it was nothing but bloodshed. I killed many, and there's regret in me chest for not being able to protect me mother. I've never known peace. Then came the most beautiful woman I ever met, and she stole me heart. Ye lit the path I thought I'd long stopped walking."
I turned so I could see his face. His finger slid out of me as I climbed on top of him, sitting on his cock. I leaned down to kiss him, tasting his tongue and sending heat to my core.
I rubbed myself against him, the only thing separating us was the trousers he wore. I ground hard, driving myself closer. But it wasn't enough. I wanted him to fill me.
I wanted to feel his skin against mine, yet he did nothing but kiss me.
"Off," I said as we kissed. "Take your trousers off."
Ragnar ignored me, wrapping his arms around my hips as he laid me back on the bed, kissing me.
I frowned. "Do I disgust you?"
His eyes widened and he pulled back. "Freyja—"
"Because you don't want me, and I want to know why," I said, my temper flaring. I tried to control myself.
"You said you would only have me if I agreed to sail with you to the North. I agreed. Yet, you won't have me."
"Ye agreed to sail North, cause ye want me to fuck ye?"
I frowned. "Why are you twisting my words?"
"Because me life is a storm," he said. "I keep ye away to protect ye from the darkness. By the gods, why do ye ache so much for me cock?"
"What are you keeping away from me?" I demanded.
He ran his hands through his hair. Then his eyes softened and he caressed my cheek. But I pulled his hand away.
"I love ye."
"I love you too, but you need to tell me the truth. What are you hiding?"
Blood drained from his face. "'Tis naught," his jaw clenched. "If ye truly want me to claim ye, then grant me a bit of time."
"A bit of time," I said, rising from the bed. I walked toward the bath chamber door where my wet clothes were hanging. They were dry.
"I want to return to my room," I said.
"Freyja—"
"I've been gone too long. They'll notice," I said.
"Okay, wait a moment. I'll see ye to your room," he said, walking past me as he headed for the chamber.
I wore my clothes and sat down on the chair, waiting for him.
The door knocked and panic rose in my chest. I stood up and tried to calm myself, telling myself it might be one of the servants in the house.
But the knock grew stronger, and when I walked toward the door, it barged open by itself. Terror filled my chest as I found myself standing face-to-face with my mother.