Page 34 of Heart of the Wolf
Wood splintered, pieces of it littering the ground as Leif kicked the door open.
“Oops,” she chuckled.
“In my way,” he mumbled against her jaw. “I’ll fix it tomorrow.”
As he lowered her, all the blood in her body rushed to the apex of her thighs. The heat of itthreatened to consume her. Her shoulders rounded, her arms curling protectively around her waist.
Every horrible thought reappeared, solidifying its hold on her. Long gone was the boldness she showed in the valley. Now, under his intoxicating presence in the firelight, she doubted giving in to this primal part of her.
All those things a lady was never to do, and here she was on the brink of destruction.
She would be ruined, defiled, undesirable, and destined for damnation if the words of her father were to be believed. It was against the word of God.
No.
NotherGod.
Not anymore.
After seeing proof of Freyja and Odin, it was difficult to believe in anyone else existing.
If giving herself to Leif sent her toward a fiery afterlife, so be it. Perhaps his gods were hers. Maybe they always had been. They were the only ones who judged her now.
As if sensing her rampant thoughts, Leif nipped at her ear, groaning harshly in a low staccato that made her heart jump.
“Our gods do not punish those who seek joy in this world. I can make you feel good. So good,” he said, licking his mark on her throat. “Will you let me, hjartað mitt? Willyou let me bring you such pleasure that you never leave my bed?”
“I want that,” she said in a breathy voice she didn’t recognize. “Please.”
She needn’t be beholden to a God she’d never known.
But their gods—his and hers—what they had done for them was tangible. Real. It went beyond faith.
Theirs was the only judgement she cared about now.
Odin blessed Leif, and Freyja brought them together. That was more real than anything else she had ever experienced. She couldn’t deny what was right in front of her.
Leif dragged her in by her nape, savoring her taste on his tongue. Her cloak fell with a thud, the decorative beads attached to the front clinking on the floor. A glassy hue slid over his gaze, his knuckles ghosting along the column of her throat.
Brielle went rigid, gasping as he stripped her down to her linen dress. He peppered kisses from her mouth to her jaw, all the way to the hollow of her throat, making her head fall back. Confident fingers brushed over her thighs as he rucked up the hem of her dress, pulling it off in one swift movement.
A blush crept up her neck, and Brielle covered her breasts, feeling self-conscious. Strands of hair fell loosefrom her braids, framing her face as she scratched at her forearms.
One finger hooked under her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze. His tongue swept over the points of his teeth as his hands moved down to her arms, covering her.
“Let me see you, Brielle. You are a gift from the gods. Drown me in all your beauty.”
A strangled sound permeated the silence as the cool breeze stung her heated flesh. Slowly, Leif pushed her arms away, a pleased groan rolling through him, setting her cheeks aflame as her breasts bounced free.
“Pretty girl,” he said, gently collaring her throat and stroking her pulse. “Perfect. Made for me.”
“Made for you?”
“Yes,” he said, tipping her chin up without releasing her. “Every curve. Every freckle. All of you. Crafted for me. What have I done to earn such a gift?”
Not waiting for an answer, he maneuvered her until she lay sprawled out on the bed for him, exposed and utterly his. A cold flame wrapped around her limbs, making her body hum.
An expectant gleam burned in Leif’s eyes.
