Lord of Raven's Peak - Catherine Coulter [112]
She raised herself on her elbows, trying to see him in the darkness of the tent. She felt his warm breath on her face. “You are a good man, Merrik.”
“Is that all I am to you?”
She shook her head, kissing his chin, saying, “Nay, you are also my lover, even though it is said that you need more practice.”
His hand was on her buttocks, lightly slapping her, then quickly caressing instead.
She arched into his hand, saying, “What will happen to Sarla? I do not know your customs for a widow. Uncle Rollo would marry her to another man of his choosing, use her for his own gain.”
“But that is not my way nor was it my father’s. A woman may refuse to wed any man. It is true that fathers arrange matters and negotiate for goods and a dowry, but the woman may still refuse, the man as well.”
“I am relieved to hear that. You forget that Uncle Rollo became a Christian when he swore fealty to King Charles. He says often that he doesn’t mind this heathen religion for it grants him many privileges he didn’t have before. And all the Christian monks bless him for actions the Viking gods would never allow.”
“Such as treating women as chattel and as puppets to gain what he wants. Your uncle is a smart man and a very ruthless one.” There was admiration in Merrik’s voice, and Laren punched him in his belly. He grunted, then grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed each of her fingers, then her palm. She stilled. Gently, he drew her back down against him. “If Sarla wishes it, I will return her to her family.”
“She loves Cleve and he loves her.”
He tensed. “I hope you aren’t right about that. It would mean that she betrayed my brother and that I cannot allow to pass. My brother didn’t deserve to have his wife betray him.”
She rammed her fist against his arm, this time in anger. “Betray him! By all the gods, Merrik, your brother took both Megot and Caylis to his bed—in front of Sarla’s nose! You speak of betrayal, what of him?”
“A man can take women unto himself. A woman cannot take a man other than her husband, for if she conceived, then the child born could be a bastard. It isn’t allowed, Laren. Did Sarla bed with Cleve?”
“No, I am certain they did not. They are both honorable. They feel guilty about their feelings, but they won’t act on them, not for a long time.”
“I will have to ponder this. It is disturbing. I like Cleve very much, but he has nothing to bring to Sarla. Aye, I will have to think about this.”
“You won’t take other women, will you, Merrik?”
He kneaded her buttocks, saying simply, “Erik believed I would. Who knows? After all, thus far you have proved yourself to be a cold woman, with little care for the pleasure I would offer you. You endure me, nothing more. You sigh with boredom when I am moaning with pleasure. It makes my man’s rod shrivel.”
She laughed, sent her fist lightly again into his belly, then immediately flattened her palm and caressed him. She felt his muscles tighten, felt him suck in his breath in anticipation. She smiled into the darkness, but didn’t allow her fingers to go lower. “ ’Tis true,” she said, her voice as sad as a merchant’s who had just lost a valuable barter. “I cannot even bring myself to give you any pleasure. Look at my hand. By the gods, it won’t move downward to your shriveled manhood. I can’t seem to make it move. What am I to do?”
He laughed, then grabbed her hand in his and pressed it against him. “Ah,” he said. “Now you needn’t do anything, at least until I direct you to.”
She found that her fingers did move. She wanted to stroke him, to feel him lurch and quiver as his need grew.
His need grew quickly. She was laughing until he came into her fully. Then she closed her eyes against the power of him and what he made her feel and she drew him deeper and deeper still. She groaned into his mouth, pushing upward, then yet again, until she cried out her pleasure. He kissed her until she calmed and then he found his own release.
“You pleased me, Merrik,”