The Barbarian's Stolen Bride (Northmen Barbarians 1)

He said nothing for long moments, just leaned back in his chair as he continued gazing at me. Fenrir reached out and grabbed his horn goblet, brought it to his mouth, and took a long pull from his drink.

He set it down and gave me a shadow of a smile. “Would you like a binding ceremony between us?”

I glanced at my lap, at my hands that were twisted together from my nervousness.

“Because if that would please you…”

I looked up at him after he spoke.

“I will make it happen, Prima.”

My pulse started speeding up again.

“Although I don’t need an official gathering to know that you’re mine.” He leaned forward, his thickly muscled forearms resting on the table, his expression… intense.

His words were final. So possessive.

“But like I said, if it pleases you to have one, I’ll make it happen. Your happiness is all I seek to accomplish. I won’t deny you anything.”

The air left me harshly at his words. They made me feel so… good.

But I said nothing. I couldn’t. I slowly shook my head, telling him nonverbally that I didn't want a spectacle. I was relieved he didn’t want one either.

He gave me another small smile that totally changed the brutal attractiveness of his face and made him seem almost softer in appearance.

He stood, and I jumped a little, the sound of his chair scraping against the flooring seeming loud, echoing in my ears.

“I have gatherings today with my guards, and other rulers coming in from their kingdoms, but my plans should not run long.” He stopped in front of me. “And I’d very much like for us to spend more time together. I want to hear more about your life.”

I didn’t know why I was shocked he wanted to spend time with me. I guess I assumed a man like him would simply use me for pleasures, for the status a wife gave him.

Yet Fenrir was pleasantly surprising me at every turn.

“I’d like to get to know you, Prima. I’d like to hear more of your likes and dislikes. I want to know what you dream of.” He stood right in front of me now, the scent of him intoxicating and arousing.

I felt a sliver of shame that I had placed him in this box for so long, made him appear like he was some kind of violent bastard.

He reached out, and for some reason I leaned back, as if flinching away from Fenrir, although I wasn’t afraid of him.

I wasn’t frightened, not in the least. His presence had the opposite—a very lustful—effect on me.

I saw the way his jaw clenched, and his fingers curled into his palms. “Be at ease,” he murmured and lowered his focus on my lips. “I’d never hurt you, and I said I wouldn’t touch you until you wanted it.” He still stared at my mouth, this drowsy expression covering his face as the seconds moved by.

“And what if that takes an eternity?” I didn’t know why I asked that. I certainly couldn’t see myself holding out that long if I was honest, couldn’t even see myself not letting him touch me tonight. I would have let him cover my body with his right now if I’d had the courage to beg for it.

The smirk he gave me was oh so arrogant as he slowly lifted his gaze from my mouth to my eyes. “You’d be surprised how short eternity can be when you’re desperate for something, my queen.” And then he reached out and smoothed his finger along my jawline, and I shivered, having to force myself not to close my eyes and melt into his touch.

“Your thralla have prepared a bath for you,” he said, pulling me out of my desire-filled thoughts. “A hot, fresh bath will be filled for you in our bathing chamber, and there are clean garments set out, items I hope you enjoy very much, as I had them specifically made just for you.”

My breath caught again.

“You’re free to do what you please today, but I’d enjoy your company for our afternoon meal.”

No doubt I wore a fierce blush. I wanted to place my hands over my face to shield myself from his appraisal and went to do just that. He made a deep noise, and I froze.

“Never hide yourself from me,” he said huskily. “You’re utterly lovely and a joy to look upon.” He got this, dare I say dreamy look on his face as he ran a finger along my cheek. “Especially when your skin turns this beautiful shade of pink because you’re being shy with your husband.”

I was frozen there, my eyes locked with his, the silent intensity moving between us. Never in my life had I felt such a pull toward another person.

“Until our next meal together,” he murmured gently, and a part of me yearned so hard to have him press his mouth to mine, to give me that kiss I so desperately wanted.