Walpurgis Night (3 page)

She worked back down. When she reached the base, she started up again. He caught a sharp breath in his throat and put a hand on her head to stop her.

“No more for now,” he said. “Your tongue is so skillful you’ll have me exploding
beforetimes
.”

Fianna
was absurdly pleased by the compliment.
Henrik
drew her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her to pull her close against him and kissed her on the mouth. He pried open her lips and explored the inside with his tongue. She met him and tangled her own tongue with his, stroking until she was burning up with the heat pouring through her.

Mouths still meshed together, he urged her backward until they reached the feather-stuffed mat that was her bed. He released her and then eased her down until she lay on the bed, looking up at him. He knelt on the floor beside her.

His hands played with her breasts, his fingers stroking, tweaking, rolling, pinching her nipples until she was moaning and the pressure of need built in her loins to throbbing intensity.

One of his hands slipped off her breast and slid downward, across her stomach and abdomen to her legs. He rubbed up and down her thighs. His fingers slid around to the inside. She sobbed and slid her legs apart, not sure exactly what she wanted from him, but confident that he would know.

A smile slid across his stern face at that sign of trust. His hands stilled for a moment, and he moved back to where he could kiss her again. He placed a series of tender kisses on her temple, cheek and lips before he shifted again and gently nudged her legs even farther apart.

Henrik’s
first touch on the sensitive nether lips of her woman’s parts made her jump and squeal. The tingles running from his touch washed her in a pleasure beyond any imagining. He continued to stroke gently back and forth, up and down, and she felt herself swelling, opening,
almost
weeping for his touch. He pushed a little deeper, a little harder. His fingers rubbed across a spot at the center of her quim and her back arched with the intensity of the feeling it brought. From then on he concentrated his attention on that spot. His stroking built the pressure in her to burning, white-hot heat. It grew and grew until she knew she couldn’t contain it much longer.

Then he gave the spot a harder tweak, a firmer brush, and all at once that contained need burst in a shattering explosion of pleasure. Spasms that pulled her body tight and then released it jolted through her. Every nerve was suffused with delight while her body bounced in a rhythm of release that took her to far
reaches
of experience. Like waves washing onto shore, the spasms rolled and rippled through her body, built and broke, time and again. He continued to stroke her lightly, provoking more outbursts while she jumped and thrashed. There could be nothing more exalting under heaven.

It was amazing. It was rapturous, delightful, astonishing, and yet it was incomplete. Something more was needed to finish it properly. This time she had a sense of exactly what was wanted.

“Come into me,”
Fianna
begged him as the spasms began to abate. “I need you inside to finish it off.”

“Not so quickly. It needs a bit more attention from you to ready it for that work,” he demanded, looking down at his cock in a way that left no doubt what he meant.

It looked perfectly ready, jutting out, long and thick, from his body. But he moved closer and she wrapped her hand around it, marveling at the contrast between the hardness of the rod and the softness of the skin over it. She let her fingers travel up and down, caressing it until he was moaning and gasping. With her other hand she cupped the balls beneath, kneading them gently. They filled her palm.

She found a sensitive ridge just below the tip by noting the way his eyes tightened and fists clenched when she ran her finger along it.
Henrik
could tolerate only a few minutes of her stroking before he straightened and moved over her. He positioned himself between her legs and looked to be sure she was ready for him.

At her nod, he pushed forward, past the entrance. As she’d had so few other encounters, her passage was still tight, unused to this exercise. He was also larger than either of the other two men she’d lain with. It stung for a minute or so, but he allowed her time to adjust.

Henrik
began to move in and out, sliding in deeper, waiting a moment then pulling out, only to push in even farther. The pressure inside roused again, causing her to tighten around him. She wound her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingers into his back. He began to move faster, kissing her as he plunged into her.

He felt so good, his skin smooth where her fingers stroked, his hair like finest silk, his body hard yet yielding. His kisses set her every nerve aflame. His chest hair tickled her nipples when he bent to match his mouth to hers.

The need mounted as he moved within. He filled her so completely, so thrillingly.
Fianna
jumped and her inner muscles tightened a little more each time he pushed in. His breath came harder and louder. The rhythm grew faster, frantic, desperate. Finally she felt it go again, felt the world spin away from her as her body released the built-up tension in spasms of ecstasy. Dimly she heard him make an
inchoate,
roaring sound and his tense body shuddered with the force of his coming.

It was delightful beyond telling, beyond anything she might have imagined. Spasms of pure pleasure rolled through her body, convulsing her. She rolled with them, drifting on the sea of joy, drowning in the thrill of it until it finally began to fade, letting her slide gently back into herself.

For a few minutes the only sounds were their moans and sighs. They lay
together,
arms wrapped around each other, drifting on the aftermath of the most intense pleasure
Fianna
had ever felt.

She wanted to remain just like that forever, joined with him in that most elemental way. But eventually
Henrik
rolled off her, stretching out close beside her on the narrow mat. He put one arm under her neck and shifted until his side lay touching hers from chest to feet. She turned so she angled toward him and could see his face.

“That was amazing,” she told him, reaching out with a finger to brush his lips. “I had no idea it could be that way.”

His smile was beautiful. “It has never been like that for me before, either,” he said. “I’ve had good times before. But not like this. No one has understood so well or wanted it the way you did.
No one.
Ever.”
He ran a hand through her dark, wavy hair and wound a strand around his finger. “
Fianna
… Why do they call you ‘witch’?”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him. She knew not what the Norse believed, and thus how he might react to it. But she had never been good at dissembling and didn’t want to do it with this man. If he was appalled or discouraged, it was better she knew it now before anything more developed between them.

“I am one, in a way,” she admitted. “My mother was half
fae
and I inherited some of her blood, though I am much more human. I work with Marla, who is a healer as well as a midwife, and I know as much as she does now about the body and about herbs and potions.
But sometimes…
I know other things. Things not discovered in any ordinary way. On occasion I realize—through the use of some other sense—what is ailing a body and how it might be fixed. Not always. Not even most of the time, but often enough. The people here have seen it often enough, but understand it not, so they label me ‘witch’.”

He didn’t recoil or let go the lock of hair he toyed with. “You use this gift you have for the benefit of those here in town.”

“Aye.
But anything beyond their understanding frightens people. And where there is power, it can be used to harm as well as heal.”

His fingers stilled for a moment and his eyes narrowed.
“Of course.
But those young men chase you and dare your wrath.”

“Aye, but they’re young. And they know I want to continue to live in peace here, so I wouldn’t dare harm them.”

“What will you do about them? They’ll not give up their pursuit of you. That you chose me for tonight might be yet more incentive for them.”

She sighed. “I suppose eventually I’ll have to choose one of them to wed. But I’ll not concern myself with that tonight. Tonight is for us.”

The wonderful smile lit his face again. “Then let us not waste it.”

He kissed her and stroked her, petted, licked and sucked her into
an another
explosive climax before he entered and spilled his seed into her yet again.

* * * * *

Lying together afterward, she dared to ask him, “Are your people settling here permanently or just staying for a while?”

“Our town grows and becomes more solid by the day. My father will stay here with these people. The land is fertile and supports rich herds. We’ve no quarrel with our neighbors and seek peace among us.”

“Your father will stay…but you will not?”

He hesitated for a moment. “My brother has been off…adventuring. He’s due to return any day. When he comes back, he can remain with my father while I go off to seek my fortune. I’ve been waiting my chance for a long while.”

She dared not let him know how that news crushed her heart. She had no right to feel it so. One night was all she’d asked, and he was giving her much more than she could have expected. They were all but strangers and so it would remain. Why then did the news he’d be gone soon leave her feeling so bereft? She’d likely not see him again after this night ended, but she would have a memory she’d treasure always.

Perhaps he had some of the same feelings. Their third and last coupling of the evening had an almost frantic energy about it, as though he needed all the touching and loving they could manage between them to store for future consideration. When it was over, he held her again, and this time they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The first light of dawn woke them. They didn’t speak as they dressed, but before he left, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Then he drew back and stared at her as though memorizing her face. She would never forget his.

“I’ll carry the memory of this night with me as I sail the seas and walk across new lands,” he promised her. “I’ll warm myself with it on cold nights and fill long hours alone with dreams of you.”

“I won’t forget either,” she agreed. “And if you have time before you go, come to me again.”

He didn’t answer that. He would make no promises he couldn’t keep.

Chapter Three

Fianna
wasn’t surprised when he didn’t come to her again. For a week after their night together she went around in a daze of hope and longing. She’d never wanted anything
so
badly as she wanted another night, many more nights, with him. She even thought about going to him. But good sense prevailed. If he’d wanted more of her, he would have come. He knew she was willing.

After two weeks the hope faded, though the longing didn’t. She didn’t allow herself to mourn or grieve. With the arrival of early spring, there was much to do. The small herb garden behind Marla’s house needed to be turned over and enriched to ready it for planting. The perennial bed needed weeds removed before they choked the emerging young plants. Cool-weather herbs had to be gathered from the woods and prepared. Work kept the painful thoughts at bay.

For a while the work—and the possibility that the Norseman would return—kept her importunate would-be suitors at bay. Not for long, though. They soon realized the Norseman was no longer about, that he had returned to his own people and didn’t watch over her, so
Fianna
had to resume being careful to avoid them. The effort was doomed to eventual failure, but she had avoided thinking too hard about it, so she wasn’t prepared when they did catch up with her.

She was returning from delivering a poultice to an elderly woman who suffered from sores that refused to heal when she spotted the three of them coming out of a building. She ducked behind the nearest wall when she saw them, but she wasn’t quick enough to avoid their notice.

She turned to run when she heard one of them shout, “Look
who’s
out wandering around by herself! The witch must be looking for something!” The young man’s tone suggested he knew what she sought and he was just the man to provide it.

Rushing past a donkey cart and woman leading a cow,
Fianna
turned into a narrow alley between the wooden side of the tavern and the public stable. They saw and followed.
Fianna
quickly realized her mistake in leaving the more open and populated part of town.

Behind the tavern, rolling pastureland spread to the hills in the northwest. The road going that way wasn’t far and travelers passed along it. No help for her, though. A scream wouldn’t be heard at such a distance, even if there were any chance someone might investigate it.

Her pursuers were gaining on her. Her breath came in ragged pants and a stitch in her side made running agony. Two of the three young men following her had the advantage of longer legs and more time spent in physical activity. She had no chance of outrunning them to any place she might expect to get help. There were few of those in any case.

Minutes later, before she could manage to wend her way back into the main part of town, they caught up with her. An arm snaked around her from behind, holding her fast against a hard body. For a while she just hung in his hold, too winded even to struggle. Then her captor twisted her around to face him.

Jerrod, the miller’s son, leered at her with narrowed dark eyes. “
Where’s your Norse lover now, witch
?”

His companion
Artur
gibed at her, “He didn’t stay around for more of you, did he? What say you to us now, witch? No Norseman to dally with now. He was a pretty toy to play with for a while, but you need someone to be your man. As you’ve refused all of us to now, ’tis obvious you’ve no comprehension of what we offer. It seems you need a sample from us, as you were so willing to accept it from him. We’ll teach you what you’re missing, whether you will it or no. You’ll take all of us.”