“Enough of your half-brother. There are other things I wish you to consider this night.”
She started to pull off her gown, then stopped. She looked at him straightly. “When you brought me here you stripped down my gown and looked at me. You played with me, but there was no enjoyment, either for you or for me. It was awful. Will you do that again?”
He gave her a fascinated look. He was remembering her breasts, their softness, their weight. “Aye, but it will be different this time. There will be play between us, but it will give you much pleasure.”
She was silent for a long moment, standing motionless. Then she waved her hand about her, toward the bed, toward the clothing trunk that stood at the foot of the box bed. “You have been married before. You had a wife and babes. You know what all this is about. You slept with a woman every night and awoke with her every morning. You must have known her habits and everything else about her. You understand things that I don’t yet even comprehend. It makes me nervous, Rorik. It makes me feel as helpless as a warrior who has no weapons.”
He saw Inga in that moment, her hair a rich golden blond, shining as brightly as ripe barley in the bright sunlight. She was frowning at him, her pale blue eyes narrowed fiercely, angry at something he’d done or something he’d said. He couldn’t remember. Odd that he would remember a frown and not a smile, but the gods and men knew that life was filled with both. Should he tell Mirana that? They would fight, but they would hopefully find pleasure and joy in each other as well. No, she would discover it for herself. She’d already known rage at him. If he gave her joy with him now, it would balance the scales. And he wanted those scales balanced. He wanted them well tilted.
“What did you say? Oh, you speak of intimacy between a man and a woman. You worry about my experience and your inexperience. It will not matter in a little while, for we will begin that intimacy right now, Mirana. Come here and I will help you off with that gown. It is lovely and you are lovely wearing it. I do not remember Asta ever being so slender, but I suppose she was when she was a girl.”
Mirana didn’t want to be naked in front of him but she didn’t see there was a choice. Too, since he’d already had a wife, he knew what was to be done and when it was to be done. She would have to trust him. Once the gown was neatly folded in his trunk, once she stood there wearing only a soft cotton shift, he smiled down at her. “Sit on the bed and I’ll free your hair from the ribbons and braids.”
She did as she was bid. His fingers were gentle, and when he splayed his fingers to comb them through the braids, smoothing her hair into loose ripples down her back, she smiled up at him.
“That feels better. My head feels lighter.”
“Now your shift.”
“I would prefer it if you would take off your clothes first, Rorik.”
He grinned at her, stepped back, and stripped off his clothes very very quickly. He stood there naked, letting her look her fill at him. “You’ve already seen me,” he said, when she remained quiet and staring for a very long time. He began to fidget. Did she find him repellent? He drew himself up straighter. He was a man and his body was very different from hers. He was large and hairy and his rod, swelled now and jutting toward her, might frighten a maid.
“But it is different now,” she said, still staring at his belly and his groin.
“I suppose it is,” he agreed, and kept his arms at his sides, but it was difficult to remain still with her just looking and looking at him, unmoving. His member swelled more, he couldn’t help that, and seeing her looking at him so intently, so very absorbed in what she was seeing, made him only bigger. “Your shift, Mirana,” he said at last.
“Could you please douse the rush light?”
He shook his head. “Nay. A husband has rights. One of them is to see his wife, to see all of her, in every fine detail, to study her and her endowments, so that he will have no questions, no doubts, about his acquisition.”
“Just as you’re letting me see if my acquisition pleases me?”
“If you will, though the comparison isn’t much to my liking.”
“Nor to mine.”
“Then neither of us will be acquisitive this night,” he said, and walked to the bed. “We will be a man and a woman coming together for the first time. There is magic in that, Mirana, and in the future if we are fortunate.”
“I think it is good fortune that brought you to me,” she said, and held out her arms to her husband.
For an instant, he thought of the misery that had been responsible for bringing him to Clontarf. But that was over now and he wouldn’t let the past touch them.
He smiled at her, at his wife.
16
RORIK KNEW WHAT he should do. She was right, he was a man who’d had his share of women, enjoying them as he trusted they’d enjoyed him as well, and much more than that, he’d had a wife, and she’d been a virgin when they’d first come together, so he should be completely confident in himself. He should know when he should do what and how he should do it and for how long. Aye, this night was the beginning of their life together. He’d spoken smoothly to her; he’d spoken with sincerity, and gently. He was scared to death.
He wasn’t ready for it, not for any of it. With all her strength, Mirana was still helpless against him. She knew naught of what was to come. Thus, he thought, he would simply try to enjoy himself and her and hope that she would come to him willingly. He didn’t want to hurt her.
He pulled the shift over her head, then took a step back to look at her. He’d seen her naked in the bathing hut, and he’d looked his fill at her then. He’d fondled her breasts, to torment her, to punish her, but not for pleasure, she’d been right about that. But this, by all the gods, this was different. This was his wife and there was no anger in him now, and none, he prayed, in her toward him.
But she was hesitant, she had misgivings about him and his body and what would happen, and he saw it. He would go slowly. That was the only thing he could make his mind comprehend at this moment.
His eyes fell from her face to her breasts to her belly. He was, he realized, staring at her as intensely as she had stared at him. He was the one who knew what would happen so it wasn’t well done of him to scare her now by looking at her like a hungry wolf.
“You are very nice,” he said, forcing his eyes back to her face. “You are pleasing to me.”