Her mother had spoken of the suffering at Clonagh—suffering Breanne held the power to end, if she chose a proper alliance. It was what Feann had wanted, but she couldn’t imagine taking another man as her husband or, sharing his bed. She wanted Alarr, despite all else.
As if in answer to her idle dreaming, he returned to her side. He drew his arm around her waist and leaned down to kiss her. Though she knew it meant to show his claim upon her, the heat of his lips rekindled her desires. She welcomed the embrace, bittersweet though it was.
When he pulled back, she fumbled for something to say. On the far end of the ringfort, she saw a group of hunters returning with a deer.
‘It’s good that they brought back venison,’ she said. ‘I am hungry tonight.’
‘So am I,’ he breathed, kissing her again. And there was no doubt what kind of hunger he was feeling.
Breanne answered his embrace, but it was still difficult to push back the uncertain emotions mingled with guilt. There were still so many unanswered questions. And she didn’t know if Alarr truly wanted her—or if he was still using her for his own gain.
That night, they made their bed in a small storage chamber amid bags of grain. Alarr closed the door behind them and drew her close. He had held back his desire for most of the day and night, and he craved the touch of her hands on his body.
He had seen her apprehension around Treasa and the worry in her eyes. And although Feann was not here, he knew that the fight between them would happen soon enough. Alarr intended to make the most of whatever days he had left.
‘Come here, søtnos. I’ve been waiting to touch you all day.’ He kissed her roughly, and she met his lips with her own, winding her arms around his neck. At her sweet response, his desire grew hotter.
‘Treasa wanted me to set you aside,’ she confessed.
He wasn’t surprised to hear it, but he tensed none the less. ‘And what do you want, Breanne?’
She stood on tiptoe and drew his face down to hers. ‘I don’t want to think about her. Or anyone else.’
There was a desperate rush for both of them. He tore at the laces of her gown while she reached to pull his tunic off. He dragged her gown from her shoulders, below her breasts, baring them to his sight. By the gods, he needed her. The urge to mark her, to make her his, was burning through him. He took her nipple into his mouth and was rewarded by her groan.
Her hands gripped his face, and she gasped when he suckled her hard. There was no time for gentleness now. He lifted her up against a stack of grain sacks, and she pulled him close.
‘Alarr,’ she breathed. Her eyes were heavy with desire, her lips soft. He wanted nothing more than to take her now, but first, he wanted her to feel the bond between them. For whatever time they had left, he wanted her beside him. And he wanted her to know that he was hers, just as she was his.
He reached to touch her inner thigh, moving his hand higher. She arched against him, and at the touch of her opening, he could feel her wetness coating his fingers. He bent to take her other breast in his mouth, and he caressed her intimately, ensuring that she was ready.
‘Do you want me inside you?’ he murmured against her skin.
In answer, she lifted her knees to offer herself. He pressed her skirts to her waist and cupped her hips. In one swift thrust, he filled her deeply, and she cried out at the pleasure. There was no resistance, only her silken wetness surrounding him.
She met him as he plunged deep inside, her body shuddering at his invasion. He lost himself in her, revelling as she squeezed him within her depths. ‘There will be no other for you but me,’ he demanded. At least, not while he lived. The thought of any other man touching her sent a roar of jealousy within him. With her body pressed against the grain, he thrust inside her, over and over.
But it was more than the need to claim her. He wanted her to remember him after he was gone. Breanne had somehow pushed away the all-consuming anger that fuelled his vengeance. In these moments with her, he forgot about the rest of the world. She made him feel something, and she didn’t care that he was no longer the warrior he’d been. When she welcomed him into her body, he saw a faith in her eyes that he didn’t deserve. And may the gods help him, he wanted to spend every last moment at her side.
Abruptly, she shattered in his arms, her body spasming around his length. The sensation of her pleasured response aroused him harder, and he kissed her to muffle a scream. Her legs tightened around his waist and he continued to grind against her, his own breathing harsh. But he slowed his pace, wanting to know more.
‘What did you tell your mother after she asked you to set me aside?’ he asked, tracing his fingertips over her bare back. Her hands dug into his skin in response, and she moved her hips beneath him.
‘I said nothing.’ Her voice was hitched as she tried to make him continue the lovemaking.
Her answer was a blow to his mood, for he’d wanted her to refuse. Yet, he had no right to demand that of her. She was free to make her own choices, even if she did not choose him.
With reluctance, he withdrew from her body and picked up the fallen furs they had brought with them. He arranged them on the ground and drew her to lie down
