“South?” I murmured. “Where it’s warm?”
“Not too far south or I’ll overheat.” He carried me down the length of the pool. “I need to feel the bite of winter for at least part of the year.”
I drowsed against him, thinking of summer lands. Imagining building a home. Having a child. Raising animals and tilling the land. My mind stalled on the last as I tried to imagine Bjorn farming, the vision refusing to manifest. Refusing to give me anything other than images of him running into battle, blazing axe in hand.
It’s only because you’ve never seen that side of him, I told myself. Not that it doesn’t exist.
Bjorn carried me out of the water, a cool night breeze blowing into the chamber and chilling my skin. I shivered as he set me down, the rock cold beneath my bare feet. Still naked, Bjorn left the cave, returning with an armload of branches. Using his usual haphazard method, he dumped the wood on top of his axe and waited for it to light. “Here. It’s a bit soggy, but edible,” he said, handing me some dried meat that had been in his belt pouch, then retrieved my sword and both our mail shirts, which were probably already setting to rust.
“Throw them away.” I rested on my elbow as I watched him work, drinking in the sight of his naked body. “I never want to wear armor again,” I added, full well knowing that wearing it had once been my dream.
Bjorn lifted his face, firelight glinting off his eyes. “We aren’t out of Skaland yet, love. And no matter where we go, there will be dangers we’ll need to protect against. Besides, this mail is worth a small fortune and—” He broke off, giving his head a shake. “You don’t have to wear it, Freya. I’ll pack it away.”
I knew what he’d been about to say. That wealth would no longer be ours for the taking. He was used to being the son of the jarl. To raiding every season to fill his pockets with gold and silver. Neither of which would be possibilities where we planned to go. Which meant that, in many ways, it would be a harder life.
Unease chilled my stomach and I tried to push away the many challenges that would face us in the days to come, the euphoria of finally being together fraying around the edges. I was used to a simple life on the farm, so it would be easy for me to give up the weapons and the fighting, to turn my back on power. Much less easy for him, because he’d been a warrior all his life.
Was that why he didn’t want to give up the armor? Because he couldn’t imagine life as something other than a warrior? Ask him, I told myself. Better to know now than later.
My tongue felt numb and my throat tight as I finally managed to say, “What do you think it will be like?”
He lifted his shoulder in a shrug, then moved to hang up the oiled mail away from the steaming pool. “We’ll want to keep to the wilds until we’re far enough away that no one will recognize us. Even then, we’ll want to keep our magic hidden until we’re out of Skaland and across the sea. They have different gods and magic than ours, and rumors about strangers travel far.”
“I meant,” I swallowed hard, “afterward.”
He had my sword in hand, warped blade half out of the scabbard, but he paused, then sheathed it. “Wherever we end up, whatever we do, all that matters is that I am by your side, Freya.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks because that was no answer to my question, and I instantaneously began to fret that he was withholding his true thoughts because he knew they were different from mine.
The corner of Bjorn’s mouth quirked in a half smile, and setting aside my sword, he rose in a smooth motion, circling the fire. Dropping to his knees, he pressed me onto my back, pulling down my damp cloak to expose my breasts. My nipples instantly peaked and it had nothing to do with the cool air and everything to do with the hungry way his eyes roved over my body.
“You want to know how I see our future?” he murmured, stubble rough against my sensitive skin as he kissed his way from my throat to my navel. “I want to see this body beneath me every night and”—he gave me a dark smile, breath teasing my sex—“every morning. I want to see your face when I make you come each and every time.”
“Bjorn…” I wanted him to be serious, needed him to be, but desire burned hot between my legs as his tongue caressed me, made me forget what I’d asked in the first place.
But rather than bringing me to climax, he moved to lie down at my side, pulling me backward so that he was curled around me. “I see you asleep in my arms in the home I’ve built for you,” he said, breath tickling my ear. “I see you full on game that I’ve hunted for you, baking bread from grain that I’ve grown in our fields after you teach me how, because I don’t know the first fucking thing about growing plants.”
I laughed, but he wasn’t finished.
“I see you fat with our child in your belly.” He kissed my neck. “See you laughing as you run with her in the snow.” His hand curved over my thigh, slipping between my legs. “I see you growing older, silver hair, face marked from smiles rather than worry, more beautiful with every passing day.”
I closed my eyes, drunk on his words, on his touch. “What of Valhalla?”
“I shall earn my place killing the little fucks who come chasing after my daughters, who will certainly inherit their mother’s beauty.” He kissed me. “Though if they inherit her sharp tongue, I won’t have to.”
“Are you sure?” I breathed the words into his mouth between kisses. “Are you sure you want to give up this life?”
“There is no life without you, Freya. So yes, I’m certain.”
I moaned softly as he slipped a finger inside of me, felt his chest heave as he found my wetness, my desire. Thought began to drift as my blood pulsed faster through my veins, his cock hard against my backside as he pleasured me. He’d told me what I needed to know—that he wanted the future I dreamed of for us, and all that was left was for me to trust that he’d never lie to me.
And I did trust him.
More than anyone. Everyone else lied and manipulated and used me to achieve their ends or to protect themselves, leaving me cold and alone, but never Bjorn. He was ever and always the rock at my back. My love. My life.
Twisting in his arms, I straddled him, my knees pressed against the furs as his hands stroked my thighs. Firelight illuminated half his face, the other half shadowed, but all of it so painfully beautiful I thought I might weep. “I love you,” I whispered, leaning forward to kiss him. “I trust you.”
And I wanted him.
The need to be filled throbbed deep in my sex. I rubbed against him, slickening his length, smiling as he groaned my name.
Lifting my hips, I reached between us to take hold of him, stroking his tip against me as he caught hold of my breast. He rolled my nipple between his thumb and index finger, dragging a gasp from my lips as pleasure spiked through me, but then I took hold of his hand and pulled it back to my hip.
Giving him a dark smile, I eased his tip inside me, a thrill running through my veins as his eyes closed, a growl escaping his parted lips. “Gods, woman,” he gasped as I moved up and down, the pleasure on his face doing almost as much to stoke my own desire as the sensation of his cock inside me. “What did I do to deserve this torment?”
“I think you know,” I purred, remembering well how he’d teased me with his fingers. How he’d made me beg for release. “Say please.”
“Please,” he groaned. “I need you.”
I should’ve drawn it out. Teased and pleasured him until he broke. But I was through denying myself, so I thrust down, taking him as deep as I could.
A sob ripped from my lips as Bjorn’s back arched, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise as I lifted myself and thrust down again. And again, my release climbed its way to the surface. My fingers locked around his wrists as I rode him, feeling his eyes on my bouncing breasts, my wet braids slapping my back.