Nena by Ann Boelter (red white royal blue txt) 📗

“It is no trick. I choose you.”

Jarl reached for her wrists and removed her cuffs. Nena wasn’t sure what to do next. She knew, of course, what was about to happen. If she hadn’t before, his nights with Altene would have filled in any blanks. But what did she need to do? Altene was right to not feel threatened by her.

Jarl led her toward the furs, then turned and pulled her to him. Drawing her head back by her thick braid, his lips descended onto hers, his kiss hard and aggressive. It was exactly what she had hoped for. It should be over quickly; she would only need to endure for a little while. She had mentally prepared herself for this all day. She could do it. She forced her thoughts to the cool grass banks and the stream with the small silver fish.

Jarl broke off the kiss and took a half a step back away from her. He was breathing hard. Nena could tell he was gritting his teeth. Why? She knew from other battles, he was quick and rough on these nights. That was what she was counting on—had been why she had chosen tonight. She did not want to enjoy it, or to go back to it in her mind when she was married, as Altene had suggested. She wanted to get it over with and put this all behind her. So why was he waiting? He would have had Altene down, thrusting deep inside her by now.

“Remove your dress,” he said.

That made sense; Altene would have undressed immediately. Nena untied the dress behind her neck and let it fall to the floor.

Jarl sucked in his breath as his eyes took in every inch of her. He reached for her braid and untied it, separating each section, one by one, until her hair fell loose and wavy around her shoulders and down her back. He ran his hand up her back and tangled his fingers in the thick tresses behind her head, then pulled her head back, baring her throat and immobilizing her. He kissed her again, gentler this time, but she could feel his barely restrained tension. As her body leaned into him of its own accord, she once again squeezed her eyes tight and forced her thoughts far away.

The tip of his tongue probed between her lips. Her lips parted, accepting him. Though she tried to focus on her safe haven, details of the moment—details of him, began to intrude. His masculine scent mingled with, then supplanted the sweet tangy smell of the spring grass. The feel of the soft earth between her toes was driven out and replaced by the full length of his rock hard body pressed against her. The walls of her mental refuge began to fracture. She fought to hold onto it, but bit by bit, piece by piece, her sanctuary began to crumble. The strength of his need, of his desire, were impossible to block out.

Keeping his one hand entwined in her hair, he held her still while his lips continued their exploration of hers. His other hand found one of her breasts. He cupped it, then stroked and pinched her nipple gently, rolling it into a firm point between his fingertips. The exquisite sensation that rocketed from her breast was so intense, it was almost painful—almost. She moaned.

The sound affected him profoundly, and his grip tightened in her hair. “Nena,” he murmured through clenched teeth as he moved his lips to the base of her ear. The feel of his breath alone on the tiny hairs of her skin sent quivers throughout her body. He suckled her earlobe. The quivers intensified and her legs threatened to fold. The last shred of her refuge fell away, leaving her defenseless against his assault.

She felt the pulse in her neck bounding against his lips as he moved his kisses down to the hollow at the base of her throat. She was shocked at the sensitivity of the areas he lingered over. Normal places that had never been especially sensitive before—her ears, her neck, now responded so strongly to his touch that she felt it difficult to draw in a full breath.

Jarl pressed her down onto the furs, then stood and stripped out of his remaining clothes. Nena tried to recover her bearings, but the reprieve was too brief. He slid next to her and his hands continued their onslaught—touching, stroking, caressing, pinching. His lips and tongue followed where his fingers had been only seconds before, nuzzling her neck, teasing her tight nipples. He sought out areas she had no idea would respond as they did—the insides of her wrists, the soft skin on the inside of her elbows. Nena felt herself spiraling out of control, wanting him to continue, needing him to continue, begging him to continue.

She didn’t think she could take another moment of the intense pleasure. Her body writhed beneath him and the sounds it made were not her own. The places he discovered—that he seemed to already know. How much more would he make her endure? Was there no end to this yearning? It was even worse than she had feared, but nothing about it was shameful—and no part of her wanted him to stop. Yet surely it had to be over soon. How much more could she bear?

But Jarl wasn’t even close to being finished with her. His lips moved down over her flat stomach to her belly button, then lower. He found the pulsing moistness between her thighs and tasted her. Softly at first, with the just the tip of his tongue, he explored every fold and crease until he came across her swollen node. As his tongue flicked over its surface, her back arched. A guttural moan escaped her lips. His own manhood throbbed in response, straining for release, but he held back, teasing her, licking her, then sucking gently. When she could take no more, when her body