‘Stay with me,’ he said between kisses. ‘Don’t return to Svardia.’ Her heart twisted at his words, her soul aching to say yes. Open-mouthed, he kissed down to her shoulder and back, his tongue teasing and teeth gently marking. ‘We can spend the rest of our days making love in front of the fire, watching the seasons change, the sun rise and set before the northern lights, and eat absolutely none of your cooking,’ he said and she could feel the smile on his lips against her skin. ‘Stay with me,’ he whispered.
It was a call she felt to the depth of her soul. She wanted it so much it hurt to breathe.
‘Kjell...’
‘I know. I know I shouldn’t ask, and I know even more that you shouldn’t stay here. You need to be the Princess you were born to be. I would never take that away from you. I just... I need a minute to be selfish before I let you go.’
It was those things, but it was also more. More than he could see at that moment. Deep down, she couldn’t put words to the fear that she’d never be able to give him enough. As a princess, her focus and her time would always be split between him and her people. As a woman, she could never carry the children he deserved. And no matter how much healing had happened here, between them and for each of them, that shamed her still. Hurt her deeply. And she would never bind them together in that hurt. She would never damage the love that they had for each other in that way. She thought of a thousand things she could say, all full of love, regret, sorrow and even some of joy. But instead she chose the words that had given her so much.
‘Take what you need.’
The flash of fire in his eyes was all the notice she had before her world turned into one of pure sensual sensation. He rolled her in his arms so that she lay on the soft buttery leather of the sofa. His forearms were braced either side of her head, the flex of his powerful shoulders, so broad they made her feel crowded in the most delicious of ways. Completely surrounded by his body, but free to move as she wished, she arched into him, desperate for the touch of his skin.
His hands swept over her body, leaving trails of burning embers in their wake, heating her body, igniting an arousal that built touch by touch, kiss by kiss, until she was damp with need and panting with desire. His worship of her felt endless and she allowed herself to indulge purely in him and what he was giving them both.
He removed his jeans before gently pressing her thighs apart. They fell to his touch with shocking ease. She felt exposed but not vulnerable, on display but not for him: forthem. She’d never felt such a sense of power, of confidence. Her heart beat just for him.
‘Can you see what I see?’
She nodded, unable to look away from his face. She couldn’t find the words to answer his question as his gaze covered every inch of her with exquisite intimacy. She wanted to reach for him, but she couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move. Everything she’d ever wanted was right there in that moment. And it was a moment that would have to last her a lifetime.
For a second she thought she saw him tremble as he came over her, but he covered her body with his, peppered her skin with kisses and touches and everything fell from her mind when she felt him at her entrance.
She felt the stillness come over him, demanding she look up at him. Demanding that she was with him in this exact moment.
‘There will never be anyone else, do you understand that?’
She wanted to tell him the same. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but the words stuck in her throat a second too long and he seized that moment to slide into her with a thrust that felt endless and utterly complete.
Kjell’s eyes drifted shut against his will as the feel of her encompassed him wholly. To be encased within her was a pleasure that was indescribable. Blood pounded in his veins, his heart lurched dramatically and the world as he knew it shifted for ever. He was marked by her. Branded.
And he wished to stay there for ever, his body reacting to the tightening of hers, the way she gripped him, as if taking him even further into her, until he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
Her back arched, bringing her chest upwards against his, and he snaked an arm behind her, holding her to him as he began to move, as the need in him became fierce and demanding, pushing them both towards an impossible conclusion. Sweat beaded the base of his spine as he thrust into her, her legs spreading for him, welcoming him deeper, her cries urging him on, hands pulling him harder against her, pleas demandingmore,faster,harder.
Anything. He’d give her anything she wanted.
Sweat-slicked skin slid together, the heady erotic sounds driving their passion to maddening heights and depths. The cries of her pleasure a symphony he’d never tire of hearing, inflaming his need to wildness.
His orgasm pressed at the edges of his consciousness, but he thrust it back fiercely. He would fight to make this last, to make this something that Freya would never forget. Her head rolled back against the cushion as he drove into her. But he wanted to see her. To watch pleasure fill her gaze.
‘Look at me,’ he commanded selfishly as he encased himself to the hilt in her, relishing the gasp of pleasure that fell from lips above closed eyes. He withdrew so slowly it was a punishment for them both. ‘Look at me,’ he said, nearly leaving the warmth of her body completely. ‘Please,’ he begged, almost willingly losing his pride.
Her eyes burst open, a skyscape of clouds, stars and golden lights. The sight of it was the only thing that calmed the raging of his heart and loosened the leash needed on his restraint. He thrust into her, hard and fast, again and again, shamelessly driving them towards an orgasm so powerful that, when it broke, it shattered them both completely.
Kjell should have been in a sleep so deep that only Freya could reach him. But he wasn’t. Sleep remained as elusive as the future. Soft, gentle sighs came from Freya’s slumber and although he didn’t want to leave her for even a minute of the time they had left, he knew what he had to do.
Slipping from beneath the fur throw that was warm from Freya’s body, he pulled on his trousers and went to the stove, trying hard not to think too much about his actions. He put on a pot of coffee and turned to where he had last seen the AAR.
He retrieved the pages and placed them on the table, barely able to look at them. He found a pen and flicked it between his fingers as he waited for the coffee to filter through. He hated that he was away from Freya. That he was wasting even a single second, but he needed to do this. Because he might not be able to do it after she left. He poured steaming, thick black coffee into his cup and, with determination steeling every single inch of his being, he sat down at the table and put pen to paper.
At sixteen hundred hours on the seventeenth of November...
The smell of coffee woke her. It wasn’t the full hit of recently brewed coffee, more of a scent left in the air, long after consumption. Warm not hot, sweet not bitter. She felt the addictive heat of Kjell’s body beside her and turned, taking in the look of serenity across features that were hardly ever so still. He seemed so much younger in that moment and she resisted the urge to trace the angles of his face for fear of waking him. One long arm was stretched out, his cheek resting on it, as if taking up as little of the deep sofa as possible. Even in sleep he was conscious of her and giving for her. Her heart curled in on itself as she realised that this was how she wanted to remember him.
Gently, she slid from the sofa and, wrapping herself in one of the throws, she went to the kitchen—pausing at the beautiful hand-made wooden table to see the AAR. Kjell’s tight, neat handwriting filled page after page and she sighed, thankful that in this, at least, he had found his peace.
She pressed a finger against the cup half filled with coffee. It was cold. He must have worked through the last hours of darkness to complete the report. She cast a look back to where he slept, the sight filling her with a sense of warmth that took her by surprise.