The Barbarian's Stolen Bride (Northmen Barbarians 1)
But Fen still had his hand clasped in mine, still kept me close. And I felt safer than I’d ever felt before having him by my side.
And I was just about to ignore the feeling, push it away and assume it was nothing but paranoia from earlier, when I saw him. He stood in the far back corner of the room, a massive horn goblet in his hand, the shadows concealing him partially. But I could still make him out, recognizing the jagged cut of his hair, the dead coldness in his eyes.
And they were trained right on me.
“Prima?”
I forced myself to look away from that corner and stare into my husband’s eyes, his brows pulled low in concern as he no doubt sensed the change in me.
Even though we’d only been married for such a short time, it was comforting to know Fen was very aware and attuned to me enough that he could pick up little nuances that I didn’t even know I probably projected.
“What is it?” He glanced around the room as if trying to let his silent threat known.
For a moment I thought of telling him my feelings, this… intuition I had, and admitting what I’d felt and seen in the garden.
But nothing had actually happened, and aside from the uneasy feeling that consumed me then and now, I had nothing to actually tell him.
I looked back to that dark corner, but it was now empty, and I felt myself relax a little. “It’s nothing,” I muttered. “I just thought I saw something.” Part of me said I was overreacting. I’d certainly gotten looks when I lived in the village, some men unable to be respectful, even with their gazes.
And when I felt Fen tighten his hand on mine, I knew he’d never let anything or anyone hurt me. I knew I’d never let anything hurt me.
So I pushed that to the back of my mind and just enjoyed the evening, leaning my shoulder against his, feeling his warmth and his strength surround me.
Before I knew it, I was laughing and enjoying myself once again, the time moving by at a pleasurable pace until it was a blur. The mead made me drowsy and light-headed, my cheeks feeling hot and achy from the fuzziness of it and my constant smiling.
I lifted my hand and covered my mouth as I yawned. Truth was, this was the most excitement I’d ever had.
Of course Fen noticed it right away.
“You’re ready to retire?”
Although I could’ve lied and said I’d stay here, the festivities continuing just as hard as they were when it first started, I was tired. “A little.”
Also, it looked like my hopes of giving myself over to Fen tonight probably wouldn’t happen. I took his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “Unless you want me to stay?”
He gave me a look that said the very idea of staying here even though I was tired was ludicrous. And I found myself laughing softly.
“I will retire with you.”
It was my turn to scowl and shake my head, gesturing to all the people in the great hall still. “No, your responsibilities are here until this is over.”
He was shaking his head before I even finished speaking, but squeezed his hand, and after I gave him a hard look in return, amusement broke out across his face, and his lips twitched in an almost smile.
“My wife is a fierce little thing,” he rumbled and leaned down to nip at my lips.
I should’ve cared that he was showing so much affection to me in front of everyone, but I didn’t. In fact I liked that he couldn’t have cared less and that he wanted to love up on me in front of as many eyes as possible.
I made a small sound of approval, my lips parting on their own. He took that as an invitation and slid his tongue along the seam of my mouth before plunging inside. I gasped at how hot and silky he felt against me, the flavor of mead and berries that covered his tongue slipping into the hot recess of my mouth and making me feel even more intoxicated.
I felt arousal start to rise up despite the haziness of the alcohol. My tiredness started to fade in the face of my desire. But he pulled away far too quickly—to my dismay—and then he smoothed his finger along my cheek, over my jawline. I felt his thumb move along my bottom lip, and they parted slightly from the innocent yet highly sexual touch.
“I will walk you to our room. And I won’t be gone much longer. I’ll make my pleasantries around the hall, ensuring everybody is situated”—he leaned in so his lips were brushing against my ear—“and then I’m going to pleasure my wife until she’s gripping my hair and crying out my name as my face is between her pretty thighs.” He growled low, and I closed my eyes, a soft moan leaving me, a shiver racking my body. “Because your flavor is still on my tongue, my Prima. And I’m hungry for more, already so addicted to you that I know if I don’t taste you every single night before I fall asleep, I’ll surely go through withdrawal.”