She touched her fingers to the area where the wound had been, a few flecks of dried blood the only reminder of her injury. “I still don’t understand how this is possible.”
“Maccus healed you. He’s more than a man.”
She wanted to know everything but bit back her questions. Talking would come later. Her headache was easing, but other parts of her ached now, more intimate parts.
She eased off the marble top and reached for the ties of her pants.
“Let me.” His voice was hoarse with need, the tone one she’d heard many times. Her blood thickened and her pulse pounded.
He snapped the knotted ties and dragged her pants down, more concerned with haste than finesse. On his knees, he buried his face against her bare stomach. “My Anja.” His big body began to shake.
She wasn’t the only one who’d been dealt a shock. To him, she’d done the impossible—come back from the land of the dead. She ran her fingers through his thick hair and held him close.
I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.
Even if it made him hate her.
For she would not allow him to defy the gods. At best, he would end up disgraced and in Helheim. And at worst? A shudder racked her. Total annihilation. He deserved a much better fate.
“Let us wash away the pain and anger of the past,” she whispered. It would take more than a shower to accomplish that, but it was a start.
When he raised his head, she traced the tips of her fingers over the markings on his forehead, temple, cheek, and down to his jaw, as she’d done so many times before. He tilted his head toward her, allowing her to touch him, silently asking for more. That was her Bjorn, too proud to ask for what he truly needed. She had to be smart enough to see beneath the surface to the man within the mental and physical armor.
The heat from his skin warmed her. His beard brushed against her fingers in a sensual caress. When she inhaled sharply, his gaze darkened and his nostrils flared. In one lithe motion, he surged to his feet and stripped away his remaining garments.
Naked, he stood before her, bigger and stronger than he’d been during their time together. His long hair fell to just past his massive shoulders. His biceps rippled. But it was his cock that drew her eye. He was fully erect, long and thick. Her core rippled in anticipation.
“It’s been so long.” She knew his face as well as her own, had seen it in her dreams every night, but he was different somehow—harder, feral.
Life had not been kind to her husband.
He swallowed, his throat moving up and down. “For me as well. There’s been no other woman. There could never be anyone but you.”
For a man as virile as Bjorn, that was unthinkable, yet she believed him. He would not lie to her.
He took her hand in his. “Come,” he urged, leading her past a see-through wall and into the shower.
“It’s hot.” Delighted, she raised her head and let the heated water cascade over her. “This is miraculous.” It was like being under a warm waterfall.
But Bjorn wasn’t watching the water. He was staring at her.
“No, you’re the miracle.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he dragged her against him. Her breasts pillowed against his firm chest, their hardened tips pushing into his muscled pecs. He caught her chin with his free hand and tilted it toward him.
She went up on her toes and kissed him. They were safe and alone, for the time being, but fate was fickle. She knew all too well how easily everything could be snatched from her.
Their lips met. This was no tender reunion but a fierce joining. His mouth was hard and hungry, his tongue plunging inward, tasting and claiming. The groan ripped from his throat was raw and uninhibited.
She gave and took in return, tasting passion and love, familiar, yet different. Maybe because they’d lost everything they understood how precious love was.
“You are so beautiful.” He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, his gentle touch a contrast to his rough voice and harsh breathing.
She swallowed heavily. “And you are so handsome.” Her lips tingled from his kisses, her breasts ached for his touch, but the emptiness inside her was the worst.
“Take me,” she told him. “I’ve been so cold, so lonely.”
Water trailed over his head, flowing down his broad shoulders and over his sculpted chest and abdomen. She leaned inward and licked some droplets from his skin, letting her tongue stroke the tattoo of her name that resided over his heart.
His big body shuddered.
“I’m thirsty for your kisses. Hungry for your touch.” She’d never been shy about asking for what she wanted.
His eyes glowed with some inner fire, burned with a fierceness that was both reassuring and frightening.
In one easy motion, he plucked her off her feet and pressed her back against the wall. The cool tile did little to diminish the heat burning inside her. Steam rose around them, secluding them in their own private world.
She wrapped her legs round his flanks and her arms around his shoulders. Every muscle in his body was rigid. “Why are you waiting?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Her heart ached at his confession. “I should feed you, see to your care.”
“The only way you could hurt me is to not love me.” She kissed him and lost herself in the softness of his lips. The rest of him was so solid and hard. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, moaning at the exquisite friction.
The tip of his cock probed her opening, then he was pushing inside. She threw back her head and gasped. “Yes.”
…
Bjorn feared he’d come before he got all the way inside her wet, welcoming heat. Most women would have called him a liar when he’d stated he’d had no other women in all these years. Not his Anja. Her trust was absolute. He prayed he was worthy of it, that she wouldn’t turn away when she discovered what he’d done, what he’d become.
His hand had been a cold, poor substitute all these years, his fantasies no more than a pale imitation of reality.
Go slowly.
The reminder was lost as his cock forged a familiar path. It was like coming home. No, it was coming home. Anja was his home, his everything.
Leaning his forehead against the tiles, he pulled air into his starving lungs. His balls were practically crawling into his body. They were so full, so tight they hurt. But it was a good pain, the kind that meant he was truly alive for the first time since he’d lost her.
It can’t last. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, unwilling to give in to the fear that threatened to steal this precious moment.
She yanked on his hair, pulling his face close, and kissed him, driving back the shadows. He loved the way she thrust her tongue into his mouth and challenged him. Blood thundering through his veins, he began to move, flexing his hips slowly at first and then with greater speed.