The Northman's Bride (A Sons of the North Romance Book 3) by Sandra Lake

Author:Sandra Lake [Lake, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-05-16T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Her husband crashed his lips down over hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Their searing, punishing first kiss as man and wife went on and on, seemingly with no beginning and no end. Hök pushed his recently donned trousers back down to his ankles and thrust into her once more. Her skin was so sensitive and arousal so high, she climaxed immediately, crying out at the stabbing, pleasurable pain that he had gifted her.

Hök reared back, and his powerful arm circled her waist. He stood without disconnecting them, and she wrapped her legs around him and he slammed her back into the wall, moving inside her over and over.

The rawness was exquisite, the punishing pace rewarding. She pressed her face into his neck and cried out as she reached yet another intense peak. She feared they would never again have a moment this pure and consuming. He covered her mouth, kissing her with lasting ownership.

Sovia curled her arm around his shoulder, holding up some of her weight. Her arm muscles were screaming with strain but already she knew she never wanted to let go. The sweat from Hök’s brow was running off him onto her neck, his sweet odor clinging to her skin, bringing her more comfort that she could not express. She was safe in his arms—exhausted and perhaps slightly bruised, but protected and breathtakingly well satisfied.

Hök groaned loudly for the second time that morning, and buried his face into her neck, panting for air. She raised her hand and touched the side of his face, and brought her lips to his forehead.

He jerked his face away and tossed her to the bed.

She landed with an unexpected “oof.”

“Don’t play your games with me, Sovia. What this is between us is practical. I need my child in your belly to secure your lands, so that they will pass on to my son and not some Norwegian bastard.” He pulled up his breeches and tied them angrily, as if nothing more had just passed between them—no tenderness, no passion, nor any gifts of pleasure given or received.

Norwegian bastard? What would that make Leif? “And will you shun your firstborn when he arrives with his mother’s devil hair? Shall I start making plans to hide him among the field hands and mountain women?” she asked.

“Any child born from my seed will be a child of Tronscar. I won’t have him poisoned by your plots or schemes.”

She dropped her head down to the pillow and breathed in Hök’s scent, closing her eyes and pulling the fine linen bedsheet up over her shoulder. “The only poison our son is in danger of receiving is from your hateful heart. Hate is a poison consumed only by the one who produces it.” She curled her legs into her chest. She remembered the magical feeling of a life moving and growing inside her. When a child eventually was conceived, would it be a son or a beautiful daughter? She sighed and heard the heavy-booted step of her husband walking out the door.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.