Sirens - The Gripping Beast Part 15

He pinned her with one leg over hers and one hand holding her wrists. She eyed him warily and decided she didn't like the serious look in his eyes one bit. Knowing him and his penchant for obedience, he'd probably decided that she really did deserve retribution for kicking him in front of the jarl.

So when he began to pull up her shirt, she a.s.sumed the worst. She also panicked and forgot everything she'd learned about self-defense, resorting to wild, undirected struggles that were quickly subdued.

He wrestled her flat and sprawled full-length over her, surprised at the strength his little slave had. She was no easy woman to overpower despite her slight stature. "Cease your struggles," he ordered, afraid he would hurt her.

Then he saw the fear and horror in her clear sea-colored eyes. Tears streaked her face, and the sobs that wracked her struck him like an unseen blow.

Freya, she thought he meant to force her.

"Cease," he repeated, more softly. "You have nothing to fear. Be still."

She stilled, but her miserable expression told him she expected brutal ravishment while she lay helpless. Despite himself, Erik smiled at her and teased, "I admit this grove has hidden many lovers. It is a pleasant and private place, for all it is close by to many dwellings." He stroked the curve of her lower lip with one finger. "I would enjoy a tryst with you amid the sweet gra.s.s and wildflowers. It is in truth a pleasant thought. But I stopped here for a different reason."

Her eyes silently invited him to continue.

"I would know if you are hurt." With that, he levered his weight to the side and leaned over her to protect her from any prying eyes that might chance by before baring her to his sight. "You will tell me if you feel pain."

"Of course I feel pain," she muttered. "You just squashed me. And I told you I don't want you touching me."

"That is unfortunate, since I will be touching you a great deal," he informed her. He suited actions to words, running his hands over her. "Do you hurt?"

She got it when one hand cupped her between her legs. Gently. The tangle of emotions that gesture stirred made the tears fall faster. d.a.m.n him, how could he be gentle and concerned in private, after the way he'd treated her in public?

And how could he have left her last night after what they'd shared?

Lorelei buried her face against his chest, ridiculously not wanting him to see her face while he touched her naked body as if that was more intimate.

He withdrew his hand and pulled her into his embrace. Strong arms wrapped around her and held her comfortingly close, and his chin rested against the top of her dark head. The husky timbre of his voice rumbled in his chest beneath her ear as he asked, "Is the hurt to your feelings once more?"

She nodded, not wanting to speak.

He sighed. "These feelings of yours are too easily damaged."

She sniffed. "I hate you."

"This I know. But it changes nothing."

"Obviously," she snapped. "And my feelings are connected to my body, so prepare to deal with them being hurt often."

He sighed again and sat up with her still in his arms. "I have no wish to see you suffer hurt of any kind. But since your body is undamaged, you will doubtless spend the night hours with hurt feelings as you will spend them in my bed."

"You don't have a confidence issue, do you?"

"I know not this issue you speak of. I do know that you belong to me."

He was so d.a.m.n sure of her. Probably because the last time they'd argued she'd ended up abandoning the fight and coming her brains out instead.

And then he'd left when she needed him to hold her.

She wanted to hit him.

He tugged her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "You know I speak the truth," he insisted quietly. "Look at me and tell me you want me to take another to my bed."

She'd kill him. She'd kill both of them, him and whatever s.l.u.t he cheated on her with. She knew it showed instantly on her face and she was helpless to hide it. They might not have any kind of conventional relationship, but dammit, they had a relationship. He was always going on about how she belonged to him. Well, it went both ways. He was hers.

Erik smiled at her. Then he kissed her.

Unfair, she thought. The kiss was as possessive as it was persuasive, devouring and...delicious. Unfair that he could override her pride, her self-respect and her self-control with a kiss. Unfair that his lips made hers soften and cling and eventually part for his invading tongue.

Unfair, maybe. But when he kissed her, she kissed him back and it turned torrid. Heat raced through her, and anger and hurt were channeled into desire. She tangled her fingers into his beard to keep his lips from moving away. She barely noticed his hands digging into her ma.s.s of hair to do the same.

He wasn't bent on any kind of a lesson. He wasn't laying down the law or giving orders. He was caught in the fire of need as thoroughly as she was, and there she found they were equals. She realized dimly that he was fighting it as fiercely in his own way as she was in hers.

Don't fight it, she wanted to say, and said it with her open mouth and hungry lips instead. Don't fight me.

She arched into him, demanding and inviting in the wordless, timeless language of lovers. His hands moved over her, taking what she offered. A taut nipple, tugged. A curved hip, squeezed. The fierce strength in his grip and the wild devouring heat in his kisses told her that his emotions were burning out of control at her response. That he wanted her. That her pa.s.sion fired and fed his.

His lips broke away from hers and moved over her cheeks, eyes and forehead in a tender salute as his hands moved to her back, stroking the curve of her spine and bringing her closer.

Lorelei turned her cheek against his chest and curled into him, holding him as well as her bound wrists allowed. He was the most unbelievably inconsistent barbarian. If he was rough and uncaring, she could hate him until doomsday. Or Ragnarok, since that was the appropriate Viking equivalent. But he wasn't. He was gentle, pa.s.sionate, and far from unemotional. She had the sure sense that he was caught up in the same relentless grip of feeling that made her his captive far more securely than a length of cord.

He was right, she admitted silently. She didn't want him to sleep with another woman. She didn't want to lose him, and she definitely didn't want to share.

Because in spite of everything, she'd fallen in love with him.

Lorelei let the realization sink in, accepting the truth as she accepted the hugs, kisses and caresses that were his way of showing her how he felt.

Love made her open her heart and soul and lay aside the unconscious barriers that had kept him out of her deepest awareness. The sure sense that always told her when something was right and what someone wanted reached out to Erik and embraced him. And everything in her opened to him in trusting acceptance.

Quiet certainty flooded her. This was right. He was right. The two of them together, right. He would fight it, but he wanted her too badly to let her go. And he cared too deeply to be the cause of her unhappiness. If he kept her a slave, it would cost him his heart's freedom. She felt danger ahead and knew it came from this time, this place. She couldn't stay. It wouldn't accept her, she was too different. But if he could bend, the future would open to him.

She shivered at the premonition. They hung between two possibilities. If she won his heart, he would release her and follow her to her world. And if she failed...darkness and danger grew until they overwhelmed her.

If she failed, she would die. His world would kill her.

Chapter Twelve.

"Why so quiet?" The low question, breathed against her cheek, brought Lorelei abruptly back to present awareness. For a shaken minute, she simply regrouped mentally.

He thought she was nutty enough without hearing that she'd just seen two possible futures. That would really make him wonder about her, wouldn't it? Although she conceded that it might just make him think she was the world's greatest storyteller. Skald, that was the word. Funny, she wasn't much of a storyteller in her own world and she'd always wanted to be. At least one of her dreams was coming true.

Two dreams, if she counted falling in love. She'd always wanted to and never could understand why it didn't happen. She'd decided she didn't have it in her, and that her musical talents were a bonus of sorts to make up for whatever she lacked emotionally. It had seemed more and more bitterly ironic that what she could convey to a crowd through music, she couldn't feel herself.

"Lorelei? Woman, what are you thinking?"

She tipped her face up to his and regarded him soberly. "That you were right."

He raised one brow, plainly dubious.

She nodded, confirming that yes, she'd really said what he thought she just said. "You were right, Erik. It's different here. It's dangerous. I understand now why you were so concerned." She shivered at the thought of just how dangerous it was. Quietly, she went on, "I'll obey you."

He didn't look convinced. But he did look slightly relieved. She realized then that he'd been waiting to see her reaction to the naked desire in his kiss. Wanting to be sure she truly did still want him, in spite of his macho act. Oh, she had no doubt that he would have hauled her off to bed if she hadn't responded. But he would have slept with her, the way he'd slept with her on the boat. He would have insisted that she sleep naked in his arms, but beyond that he wouldn't have touched her, and the knowledge warmed her further towards him.

He wanted her to want him.

Since she was feeling generous, she kissed him and then snuggled happily in his muscular embrace. "I promise, Erik. Word of honor. I didn't understand before," she a.s.sured him.

"And you wish me to believe that you will become compliant and obedient?" The doubt in his voice made her laugh, and she drew back to look up at him.

"Yep. You betcha. I'll be the best love slave you've ever had."

Instead of looking rea.s.sured, the plain disbelief grew. But he answered, "You are the only love slave I have had. It would take no great effort to be the best."

"Oh, come on," she retorted. "You expect me to believe that? A guy like you? You must haul women home by their hair by the busload."

He frowned. "By the what?"

"Often," she clarified, trying to be helpful. "And don't try to sidetrack me. You have other slaves."

"I do," he agreed. "But they do not sleep in my bed."

"Hm. What do they do?" Lorelei asked, really wondering.

"They care for the sheep and spin wool. Cook and serve the food. Clean. Feed the fire. Many things." While he answered her, Erik redressed her and then frowned at the inadequate covering. "You need clothing."

"Yep," she agreed. Since she was being obedient and compliant, she didn't remind him that he was responsible for the fact that she needed clothing. Not gloating and saying "I told you so" had to count for some points, didn't it?

Of course it did, she a.s.sured herself, feeling smug.

He finished covering and straightening her to his satisfaction, then caught her face between his hands. His eyes were serious, probing hers deeply. "Woman, speak the truth. Have you accepted that you are mine, or do you wait for a better chance to run away?"

She started to answer, then stilled.

She shivered, suddenly deeply afraid and feeling a growing dark oppression. "Erik, I'll tell you the truth. I don't exactly agree with you about everything, but I do understand your reasons. Let's just say that I can't afford not to be reasonable."

He watched her face for some time in silence. Finally, he said, "You are still angry?"

She shook her head free of his grasp and laid it on his shoulder, not wanting to let him see the deep shadow of hurt in her eyes. The fight they'd been having before it got sidetracked by fear and l.u.s.t had been important, and it still lay unresolved between them. She couldn't help being a product of her time any more than he could help being a product of his. And his lack of faith in her hurt. He let her hide her face, and after a moment, his hand cradled the back of her head in a comforting gesture.

"Erik, I don't really want to talk about it. Not now. You wouldn't understand. If you knew me better..." She trailed off with that thought.

He laughed softly and ran a possessive hand over her breast, teasing the nipple that budded at his touch with his thumb. "Woman, I know you better than any man."

The blunt s.e.xual meaning was plain.

For some reason, it irked her. "Yeah, and you love that, don't you?" she grumbled.

"That no other has had you? That all this-" his hands moved over her with rough urgency, effectively making his point, "belongs to me?"

"You keep saying that."

"I say it because it is true."

Smug, sure, satisfied. That was her Viking. Lorelei sighed at the masculine arrogance. It was all the more galling because, dammit, it was true.

"Yes," Erik said, tightening his hold on her. "It pleases me more than I can say that no other has touched you. Would it please you to hear how your beauty delights me?" The husky warmth in his voice made a low throbbing build inside her in response to his s.e.xual praise. "You are beautiful, and all your beauty belongs to me."

He caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s again, stroking them with open palms. Lorelei shivered at the touch. A languorous heat began building in her, and she felt her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swelling in his hands as if they were ripening for him, growing plump and ready.

She felt a low shudder go through him, and then he stood, sweeping her up in his embrace. "Woman, I want you. I want you now," Erik grated out.

The fierce need conveyed by his hands and his voice made the building heat spread, awakening a response. She clung to him, silent, pressing closer to him in wordless surrender.

He crushed her against his chest, demanding in a taut, low voice, "Have you forgotten your anger? Will you fight me?"

Too many questions she couldn't answer. Too many conflicts swirling around them. She'd fight him to h.e.l.l and back before she'd let him break her, but she could give herself to him and give them both what they needed.

With sure insight, Lorelei knew it wasn't purely s.e.xual, although the need had become a physical demand that neither of them could deny.

No, it was the almost desperate need to come together, to find closeness that drove them both.

With shaking hands, Lorelei touched his chest, tracing the contour of muscle with a mixture of wonder and aching desire. "Erik," she whispered, brushing her lips against the column of his throat. "How far is it to your place?"

For a moment, he stood as if turned to stone by her words. Then he was throwing her over his shoulder and moving in long, swift strides as he growled in reply, "Not far."

It wasn't far, but the ride seemed endless. It was oddly erotic, lying over his shoulder, his hands gripping her thighs and b.u.t.tocks, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing against his back. Lorelei closed her eyes and let him carry her, clinging to the knowledge that he needed her, needed the most primitive proof of his possession, needed her willing response.

She was his woman. She couldn't deny him.

Later, she would wonder what his other slaves, servants and neighbors thought of his determined rush through the village to his door and through it, to the small chamber at the end of the long hall. At the chamber door, he set her down, grabbed her bound wrists and dragged her through it, slamming it shut behind them and all but throwing her up against it. His knife slashed through the rope binding her legs, and then he was crowding up against her, demanding, "Spread."

She shivered, feeling almost frightened of the primitive emotions swirling through him. The hesitation made him raise her arms higher in a swift, jerky motion, lifting her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, now heaving with her rapid, shallow breathing. The knife slashed again, cutting the shirt from top to bottom and baring her body to his sight.

The fierce hunger in his eyes sent a thrill of feminine awareness through her. As if he'd touched her physically, her nipples budded for him. Exultation leaped in his eyes at the sight.

"Spread," Erik demanded again.

Shaking, Lorelei obeyed, moving her feet apart.

"Wider."

She complied, and the deep satisfaction in his eyes scorched her as he threw off his garments, his hot gaze never leaving her.