Page 33 of Heart of the Wolf
“Made up ones, I think. They were tales for children.” He nodded, lacing their fingers together. “Did your father ever tell you how you would know if you found the right person? Your kona.”
A deep, contemplative hum resonated in his chest, the sound shaking him. Without answering, he lifted their joined hands, inspecting them in the moonlight. Her slightly tanned, smooth skin stood out against his pale, marked one.
“All he said was I would know.”
A few days ago, that answer would have frustrated her; she wouldn’t have understood how something so important could be left open to interpretation. Now, itmade sense, like all the stars aligning together to create constellations and tell stories in the cosmos.
The leather of his coat was supple under her palm as she flexed her fingers over his chest. Each thud of his heart slowed her frantic one a little more.
Feeling bold, she licked her lips and crawled into his lap. The muscles in his thighs tensed, digging into her backside. The line of his jaw hardened, a shiver chasing his fingertips as he trailed them over the curve of her spine.
“My beautiful, wild girl,” he said, his words carrying off into the wind. “I don’t know what I ever did to be worthy of you. Whatever it is, I will drop to my knees to thank Freyja every day for bringing you back to me. You have always been mine. My soul knows you. My heart needs you.”
A strange warmth grew between her legs, the heat of it making the spot ache. She burrowed into his throat, her lips hovering between his collar and jaw. Before overthinking it, her tongue darted out, licking the salty skin over his pulse.
He growled a low, threatening sound that only spurred her on.
Of their own accord, her hips rocked. Her body ached for relief as his hard length twitched against her thigh.
“Úlfr,” she murmured, her voice strained. “Let me help you. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
She whispered the vow into his warm skin, still damp from her breath. Saliva coated her finger as she pressed it to his lips. A breathless sound echoed in the space between them.
For so long, he had shouldered an insurmountable duty, the weight of it crystallizing his heart. Black rings slowly eclipsed the shades of gray in his eyes, his lips closing around her fingertip. His gaze called to something primal within her, making her entire body shudder. Sticky wetness clung to her thighs as his tongue lathed over her finger, removing it with a pop.
“How would you help me?” he asked, his throat rattling with a hoarseness that punctuated the silence.
Two hands slid under her arms, encouraging her movements against him. She watched his throat move with a strained swallow, the snow coming down in thicker clumps. Before she could answer, his mouth slid along hers, gentler than she expected.
He coaxed her lips open, stealing the sweet sounds that followed each swipe of his tongue against hers. Silken strands slid between her fingers, his hair smooth in her hands. With another tentative sway of her hips, she ground against him, the friction easing some of the tension building low in her belly.
“That’s it,” he purred, the sound sending a vibration straight to her sex. “You are doing so good.”
The praise shattered the last of her restraint.
Deep down, she knew she was damning herself. That giving in would make her thehoraStyrr accused her of being. It didn’t matter.
This was her home now.
Wherever Leif was, it was where she belonged. Wherever he went, she would follow. Valhalla. Helheim. Nothing would keep her soul from finding his.
Her nails bit into his jaw as she forced his gaze to meet hers. A disbelieving brow arched at her, Leif unaccustomed to being handled that way.
“Úlfr, take me to bed.”
A tiny growl mingled with the command, a confidence coming from her she didn’t recognize.
“Are you tired?” he asked, the question muffled by his ministrations.
He groaned, kissing, nipping, and sucking her neck until it was bruised. She wanted all of his marks. She wanted to feel him etched into the fiber of her essence.
“No,” she panted, tracing her swollen lips with her tongue. “I want you to make me yours. Like I’ve always been.”
Chapter nine
Brielle
The wind stung her cheeks as he carried her home. Pebbles rolled under his boots, his hands digging into the backs of her thighs. No one saw them walk through the village; their lips fused together, and her legs wrapped around his waist.
