There was nothing sweet about it. Nothing tender.
Which meant it was exactly what I wanted. What I needed in this moment where I was getting what I’d dreamed of even as danger walked ever closer.
Though I knew this was meant to be a distraction that would cause the searchers to pass me by, that seemed a distant concern as Bjorn’s tongue slipped into my mouth, stroking over mine. He tasted of mead, and with every inhale I scented pine and snow and wind over the fjord. It unleashed something wild in me, and I tightened my legs, drawing him closer to me as my skirts pushed up my thighs.
Pine needles crunched as footsteps came closer, and I drew back, biting at his bottom lip and meeting his gaze. “This isn’t enough to dissuade interruption, Bjorn,” I said under my breath. “Make it convincing.”
“Gods, woman,” he growled, then his mouth was on mine again, his tongue teasing my lips open as he let go of my arse with one hand. Reaching up, he caught hold of the laces of my dress, pulling them loose with a sharp jerk.
The footsteps drew closer, and a seed of doubt formed in my heart that this would work. Growing certainty that they wouldn’t be fooled into believing us revelers and would demand to see our faces.
My heart hammered a rapid beat as I let go of Bjorn long enough to pull my sleeves down, the fabric of the bodice rubbing over my breasts in a way that made my back arch. My shoulders pressed hard against the tree and the antlers on my mask scratched against the bark in a seductive rhythm as I ground my hips against him. The night air kissed my nipples, though it was his slow exhalation that turned them hard, a moan tearing from my lips as he cupped one breast, his thumb stroking over the tip.
Never in my life had I been kissed like this. Touched like this. And gods, it made me feel things I hadn’t believed possible. Things I thought only talk and exaggeration and stories, but the aching need building between my thighs told me that I’d been very wrong. I wanted to peel the clothes from his body and taste every inch of him. Wanted to rid myself of my dress and discover what it would feel like having him buried deep inside me.
This is madness, the last vestiges of logic in me screamed. You need to run! You need to hide!
I ignored the warning and dug my heels into the small of Bjorn’s back, sliding one foot down to catch the waist of his trousers, pulling them low. Feeling the heat of his naked arse against my ankle as I bit at his lip, relishing how he groaned into my mouth. The front of his trousers remained caught between the tight press of our pelvises, but it did nothing to hide the hard length of his cock. Gods help me, he was as aroused as I was, which meant neither of us were thinking straight. Yet I found I didn’t care as I rubbed against him, the fabric dragging against my sensitive flesh, and my body turned hot and liquid as tension rose and rose inside me. I would have this, would have him. Would revel in this moment right up to the second I was caught, and then I’d fight.
And I’d show these men no mercy for stealing this moment away from me.
“We need to see her face.”
I tensed at the demand. But Bjorn snarled, “She’s occupied. Now fuck off before I break Fjalltindr’s peace.”
Hiding my face would only raise suspicions, so instead I trusted that the mask would do its duty and reared back, my shoulders slamming against the tree. “Shut up and fuck me,” I gasped loudly. Both warriors gaped at my breasts rather than my masked face, and I silently thanked the predictability of men.
But they didn’t leave.
Go away, part of me prayed, but that logical voice was drowned out by the wanton part of me demanding that Bjorn see this performance through. The part of me that needed his cock deep inside me. It was she who won. She who rode him like a wild thing, release stalking ever closer.
Yet still the men remained, watching.
Panic twisted with my desire, my heart exploding under the pressure, all of which was drowned by horror as Bjorn pulled back his hood, revealing his face. “You must truly have a death wish.”
What was he doing?
I balled my hand into a fist, readying for the men to recognize him and attack, but they only laughed. “I hope she’s worth it, Bjorn.”
And they moved on.
The shock stilled me. It had worked. They were gone.
But why?
“Why did they just leave?” I whispered, watching their retreating backs. “Harald made a deal with Ylva to kill you. I heard them.”
“You’re the king-maker, Born-in-Fire. The only life Harald cares about is yours,” Bjorn said, and the tone of his voice drew my eyes back to him. He was looking up at me, bands of moonlight crossing his too-handsome face. His expression was strange, almost reverential, and we stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment.