Rune King

The emotions that surged through Deirdre shouldn't have surprised her, but they did. She was going to get away. Going to be free. He'd promised it, all that time ago. Weeks. And then that had turned out to be wrong.

Now here he was again, telling her that he would take her away. She should have been so many other things. Happy, or angry that he hadn't let her go sooner. Or excited. She felt… numb. Tired.

She could already feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball, but she had worked to break herself of that when she was still little. She'd thought that she was done crying after she'd been given to the witch.

But that hadn't been the end of it. Then she'd cried over so many different things, but she could understand them, at least. So why was she crying now? She got what she wanted, and she just—

She found herself leaning into Gunnar without realizing that she'd started to, her head pressed into the oddly comforting space between his shoulder and neck, sobs racking her body and tears streaming down her face.

She needed to get ahold of herself—needed to figure out what to do. Needed to figure the route back home. They needed to get moving. But instead she just stood there and cried. The only thing that broke her out of her reverie was the feeling of Gunnar's arm, wrapping around her.

She almost didn't realize what she was doing until her lips were already on his. When she pulled away for breath and then pulled him in for a deeper kiss, she had already decided what she was going to do next.

Gunnar let her kiss him. He wasn't sure what was going on in her mind, but clearly it was upsetting her a lot. Then she kissed him again. This time he kissed her back, the worries of what he was going to do next slowly retreating.

He replaced them with the feel of her warm body pressed against him, contrasted against the cold of the night. He felt himself stirring in his pants, but he held himself off. She needed whatever she was going to need, but he'd let her take the pace.

Her lips left his, both of them breathless, and then she pulled his head into the crook of her neck. He planted a firm kiss, letting his teeth scrape lightly across her skin and enjoying the soft mewling sound she made at the sensation.

He wrapped his arms tighter, pulling her into him, wanting to feel every inch of her pressed up against him. Wanting to explore with his hands. The tiny whispers of doubt and uncertainty kept his hands from cupping her ass and testing its firmness.

She seemed to be under no such compunction, running her hands across his body and up his shirt, her fingers dancing across his muscles, tracing a light, tickling line. She pinched his nipple softly, sending a spark of mixed pain and pleasure.

Gunnar bit down on her throat, his teeth digging just enough into her soft flesh to draw out a moan. He wanted her badly. It was pure agony to remind himself that no matter how much he wanted her, he wasn't going to do anything that she didn't push first.

That said, her roaming hands gave him tacit permission—he let one hand drop, cupping her firm round ass cheek in one large, powerful hand and giving it a squeeze. She didn't pull away, didn't protest, so he had to guess that she didn't mind too much.

He used his other hand to test the softness of her chest, enjoying the fullness and weight of them in his hand—and then he stopped. Pulled away and tried to catch his breath. The cold night air burned his lungs and brought him back to reality.

"Are you sure?"

His own voice sounded strange to his ears. Hoarse, almost needy. Nothing like the confident man that he usually felt, this was unfamiliar territory with a woman who he had everything but a good reason to do this with.

She pressed in against him, not answering, her lips tracing the line of his collar bone, and it took every ounce of self control not to take her right then. If she wanted him, then she'd have him—but he wasn't going to let it go this way, at least.

He needed it to happen right. He pulled her body back in close, pressing her back against the side of the cart, forcing her to feel his hardness and his presence until they overwhelmed her.

His hands explored the soft curves of her body, the long lines of her legs. They were exposed below the knee, and he broke from the kissing to expose more, his hands tracing the inside of her thigh, teasing dangerously close before backing away.

Something in his mind snapped. Before he knew what he was doing Gunnar had Deirdre pressed back against the cart. Deirdre's eyes were wide, and for a moment he thought that she might try to stop him, but she didn't push him away and he didn't wait for her to.

One of his knees pressed forward, separating Deirdre's trembling legs. She rocked forward, her body betraying her arousal in its pursuit of pleasure. A button popped off of her blouse, opening it further from enticingly low-cut to downright scandalous.

One of Gunnar's powerful hands reached inside, pulling a plump breast free. He took a moment to enjoy the large, bronze nipples before he took one between his lips.

Deirdre's fingers laced into his long hair, wrapping themselves in tangles and pulling him in closer. She continued to rock her mound up and down his powerfully muscled thigh, shuddering and mewling in the pleasure that both of them hadn't been able to deny wanting since they'd started this.