Page 45 of Valkyrie Confused

And maybe I flex my back and roll my shoulders for effect.

FIFTEEN

PAN

Arnlaug may thinkhe’s resisting Scarlett’s charms, but she’s getting to him. Hesmiledthis morning. More than once. I’ve only seen him smile during a sparring session when he and I were using sword fight as foreplay and the winner got to fuck the loser.

I give the dough for thetiganopsomoa playful spank. Oh, to see the two of them fucking… He can move her around like a doll. Fuck her standing up without breaking a sweat. Take her—

The olive oil in the pan sizzles, and I lower the heat before tearing a fistful of dough and working it into a centimeter-thick disk. I make a hole in the center, lay it in the frying pan, and inhale the scent of frying dough. Mmm… Almost as sexy as Arnlaug’s bitable ass.

I flip it, and when it’s golden on the other side too, take it out and place it on kitchen paper, to absorb the extra oil. I cut it into four wedges, place them on one side of the dish I’m preparing for Scarlett, and crumble a chunk of feta cheese on top of them. Add two sausages and a fried egg. Two fried eggs. She’ll need sustenance after the workout Arnlaug gave her.

Plate in the tray, I add a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, a double cappuccino, and a bowl of grapes around it, and summon a white rose from Heras’ garden, for décor. Roses make Scarlett smile.

I take the tray upstairs and knock on her door. I could let myself in. I’ve done it a few times, and though she’s told me not to, she also doesn’t seem too bothered when I do, but maybe that’ll change now that she knows I’m into her.

She sure takes her time answering the door, but it’s worth the wait. She is fresh from the shower, cheeks red and eyes glimmering with a wildness usually concealed under layers of self-constraint. Her bathrobe is loosely tied at the waist, allowing me enough of a peek at the curve of her full breasts to know she’s not wearing a top underneath it, though I do glimpse a pair of boy shorts.

I want her. As much as I ever wanted anyone. As much as I want Arnlaug.

She wants me too. I don’t even have to rely on my power for confirmation. She is attracted to me, and with the rush of mock-battle running through her veins, she’ll only need a nudge to give in. But it won’t be right. We’re not on equal footing yet, and when we do fuck, it will be because she can’t imagine taking another breath without feeling me inside her.

“Your breakfast is served, M’lady.” I balance the tray on one hand and present the flower to her with the other, giving a little bow.

She takes the rose and back steps, pointing at the kitchen bench. “You can leave it there. I need to dry my hair.”

Is this an invitation to her inner sanctum? Her gait is stiff. I could offer her a massage.

Or bend her over the counter.

No. Bad Pan.

I leave the tray where she indicated, mumbleenjoy, and all but gallopback to the kitchen. I have one more meal to serve, and I’m getting properly thanked for this one.

Admittedly less attention goes into preparing Arnlaug’s food, but he’s easy. Cold cuts, bread, a few slices of cheese, four soft-boiled eggs, and a few berries, and I’ll have a happy bear in my bed, in more ways than one.

Eh, I already have a happy bear in my bed. A happy,nakedbear, who barely pays breakfast any attention, before tossing the sheets back for me. The same battle lust that shone in Scarlett’s eyes underlines his every move, as he rolls us over, drapes his body over mine, and claims my mouth.

I let him have his wicked way with me, his desire further amplifying my pleasure.

If he wasn’t such a stubborn jackass, we could have this forever.

We’re done and lying in an awkward embrace, when I hear voices outside my window.

“—right upstairs,” a woman says.

“We could knock and ask,” suggests another.

Uh oh.Maybe letting guests know Scarlett is staying here wasn’t the most brilliant of ideas, but I was hoping that, the more people knew she was here, the harderdisappearingher would be.

I jump out of bed, magicking my clothes on before my feet hit the floor.

“Where are you going?” Arnlaug asks in a sexy, drowsy growl.

I lean down to slap his ass. “To save Scarlett from her fans.”

He rolls to his side, and I barely stop my hand before it smacks his half-erect cock. He’d like that, and I’d never get out of here. “How come you haven’t tried to protect her from me?” he asks.

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