Twin Passions (35 page)

Hakon looked about the room, his eyes coming to rest on
the slender form lying beneath the fur coverlet. He drew in his breath sharply.
He had thought of little else since he left Trondheim but to hold Anora once
again in his arms. But if she was resting soundly, he did not want to disturb
her. Nay, not yet. First he would have a warm bath and rid himself of the grime
and smell of the voyage. Then he would have Berta bring wine and a sumptuous
meal to his hall. Only then would he wake her.

Yea, it will be a
long night.
He chuckled lustily, a gleam of desire flaring in his eyes.
Let her rest while she may
. . . Smiling
to himself, he turned and walked quietly back across the threshold and shut the
door softly behind him.

Gwendolyn's eyes flew open in surprise. She sat up in
the wide bed, then kicked away the fur coverlet and threw her slender legs over
the side of the down mattress. Running to the door, she listened until the
sound of Hakon's footsteps had died away. Only then did she open the door a
crack and peer out, just in time to see his broad back as he stepped from the
hall and closed the heavy door behind him.

She shut the door and slumped limply against it.
Suddenly she started to laugh, not only from relief, but from the sheer
ridiculousness of it all. It started as a snicker, but quickly grew into hearty
peals of laughter that, try as she might, she could not suppress. She ran to
the bed and buried her face in one of the eiderdown pillows, and still she
laughed until the tears were rolling down her flushed cheeks and she was almost
choking.

But the tears of laughter soon gave way to
hot,
wrenching tears of frustration as the tension of the
past few days suddenly overwhelmed her. Gwendolyn doubled over, her slender
body wracked by silent sobs. Confusion, pain, fear, and intense longing all
seemed to erupt within her. Hugging a pillow tightly to her chest, she cried
until her tears were spent. And when she could cry no more she lay on the bed
for a long time, until she at last fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Chapter 32

"Wake up, my love," Hakon murmured, nuzzling
the silky skin at the nape of Gwendolyn's neck. He trailed a path of kisses
down the top of her spine.

Gwendolyn's eyelids flickered open, a delicious shiver
running through her body. She stretched her slender limbs languidly, unable to
suppress a wide yawn. Suddenly she felt herself lifted from the bed by a pair
of strong arms.

"Oh!" She gasped in surprise. Her startled
gaze met Hakon's.

"If you do not awaken, little one, you shall miss
the fine dinner Berta has prepared for us." Hakon chuckled. Holding her
close against his bare chest, he strode out of the chamber with her and into
the main room of the hall.

Gwendolyn shielded her eyes with her hand until she
grew accustomed to the light of the blazing fire burning brightly in the
central fireplace. But her eyes widened with astonishment when she finally
looked about her.

It seemed as if the far end of the hall near Hakon's
chamber had been transformed. The luxurious rug that had been in the center of
the room was now stretched out before the fireplace, the flames reflecting off
the glistening sheen of the black fur. Pillows swathed in silken fabrics were
scattered about the rug, while a low table was set at one end. There were two
fine ceramic goblets and a matching vessel upon a silver tray set atop the
table. Resting beside the tray was a large covered platter, still steaming hot
from the cooking house.

A flush of embarrassment reddened Gwendolyn's cheeks as
her stomach growled hungrily and loudly. It had been such a long time since she
had last eaten! Hakon threw back his head and laughed.

"Did you not eat while I was gone?" He shook
his head in mock anger. "I will have to chastise Berta when I see her for
not taking proper care of you!" He grinned wickedly as he set her down
gently with her back against a large pillow. "Yea, the food does smell
wonderful. I think Berta might have outdone herself this night." He
dropped down beside her and gathered her into his arms. "But the meal will
have to wait for a few moments, my love."

His blue eyes heatedly raked her slender body. Yea, the
emerald silk of her chemise did little to conceal her charms from his gaze. Her
silky skin shone like alabaster through the almost transparent fabric, the
clinging bodice stretched taut across her firm breasts and pink-crested
nipples. Hakon groaned inwardly. It was all he could do not to take her this
very moment, but he cooled his growing ardor. Nay, he wanted to savor their
evening together . . . slowly.

"I have missed you, Anora," Hakon murmured,
his lips warm against her throat. His mouth, searching, insistent, moved to her
delicate earlobe. He lingered there, nibbling ever so gently.

Gwendolyn closed her eyes, her body tingling with the
sensations that swept through her. She could not fight him, nor did she want
to. When they were together like this, it was so easy to forget the awful
dilemma that tormented her . . . and to think only of love. Her hand strayed to
his broad chest, her tapered fingers entwining in the thick golden curls. When
he at last kissed her, parting her lips and tasting the honeyed sweetness of
her mouth, she surprised him by flicking the tip of her tongue against his.

Hakon drew away suddenly, his breath ragged. He was
almost trembling with desire. By the blood of Odin, what this woman could do to
him! "Perhaps we had better eat," he muttered thickly. "It seems
I have taught you too well, my love. One more
kiss
like that and the food will be long cold before we even look to see what lies
beneath the cover!"

Gwendolyn
smiled,
strangely
pleased at the power she had over him. "Aye, my lord, let us eat."

Hakon almost could not tear his eyes away from her
face. He saw her smile so rarely, and when she did he never ceased to be
stunned by her exquisite beauty. He said a silent prayer of thanks to Odin as
he got up from the rug and walked over to the low table.

Gwendolyn's eyes moved appreciatively over his body as
he bent to pour some red wine into the ceramic goblets. She watched the play of
rippling muscles across the broad span of his shoulders and back, and admired
the burnished bronze of his skin. His silken trousers barely concealed the
tapered lines of his hips and his taut buttocks. Every sculpted inch of his body
bespoke power and strength. He was so magnificent . . . so virile . . .

She could not believe the wantonness of her thoughts.
Why, only a few hours ago she had cried agonized tears into her pillow, cursing
the cruel fates that had brought them together. Yet at this moment for the
first time she was truly glad— glad for the wild delight they found in each
other's arms, glad that she belonged to him, and, most of all, glad that he
loved her and would make her his wife. She shook her head, perplexed. When
would she ever understand her feelings? How could this one man so completely
overwhelm and conquer her sense of reason, just by his touch? He was
unwittingly enticing her to betray her sense of duty to Anora, the sister she
also loved with all her heart!

Hakon handed her a goblet, interrupting her jumbled
thoughts. "Why do you frown so, little one?" he asked softly. She
started at the sound of his voice. She had not even noticed he had returned.

"'Twas naught, my lord," she murmured,
blushing warmly. She reached up and took the other goblet of wine from him. He
then walked quickly back to the table and returned with the large covered
platter. He set it gingerly in front of her,
then
sat
down cross-legged close by her side, his hard, muscled thigh brushing against
her leg.

"Nay, 'twas something, I know it," he
insisted gently. "I have seen you frown so before, when you were deep in
thought." He smiled rakishly, his blue eyes burning into hers with heated
desire. "I forbid you to think of aught else but me this night," he
said huskily. "Now drink with me, Anora."

Taking one of the goblets from her hand, he raised it
to his lips and drank deeply. Gwendolyn did the same, her eyes not leaving his.
It was more of the same red wine they had shared in the bathing house, she
thought, savoring the heady sweetness. Memories of that long night flooded back
to her, and she hoped that tonight would be as passionately fulfilling.

Hakon set down his goblet and lifted the cover from the
wooden platter. As the steam escaped from under the dripping lid, the
mouth-watering aroma of roasted pheasant filled the air. There were four of the
delectable birds arranged on the platter, surrounded by pit-roasted small
potatoes and steamed figs.

He smiled at Gwendolyn's gasp of pleasure. Breaking off
a well-browned leg, he handed it to her,
then
tore
another off for himself. Berta had even provided a crusty loaf of rye bread
slathered with golden butter, and several moistened towels for their hands.

They ate in contented silence, Hakon handing Gwendolyn
choice pieces of roast pheasant and the plumpest figs.
One
ripe fig burst when she bit into it. The sweet juice ran down her chin and on
to the bodice of her chemise, soaking through to her skin, before she could
wipe it away. She giggled as Hakon drew her to him and kissed the nectar from
her mouth.

"I will savor the rest of it later." He
grinned lustily, his eyes on her breasts. The thought sent shivers of
anticipation racing through her. He was about to rise to fetch more wine, but
Gwendolyn stopped him. Rising to her feet, she walked to the low table, very
much aware that his gaze was following her every movement. She picked up the
tall vessel and turned around, a faint smile on her lips.

Hakon almost choked. Her silken garment was so
sheer,
it was as if she were standing before him with no
clothes on at all! The leaping flames in the fireplace cast a glowing aura
about her slender form, accentuating her delicate curves. She seemed bathed in
light, from her head to her toes. The delicate beauty of her features shone
with ethereal radiance, the soft curls of her silver-blond hair glinting with
shimmering highlights. If Hakon had not known she was a flesh-and-blood woman,
he would have thought for sure she was a goddess sent down from the high throne
of Odin himself! Overwhelmed by raging desire, he knew he could wait no longer.

He rose swiftly to his feet. Hastily stripping off his
silken trousers, he stood before her in all his masculine glory, his manhood
erect and throbbing. Walking over to her, he took the vessel of wine from her
hand and set it down on the table.

Gwendolyn gasped, awed by his male beauty. Taking both
her hands in his own, Hakon stepped back, gently drawing her with him to the
center of the thick rug. As his strong arms encircled her narrow waist, she
gazed up at him with an impassioned look of love that took his breath away.

Thor, it was true . . . at last! Hakon's heart raced at
the raw emotion he saw reflected in the emerald depths of her eyes. He had
known if he waited long enough, one day she would return his love. Bending his
head, he captured her parted lips fiercely with his own. Their arms wrapped
tightly about each other in a timeless embrace. They stood there for a long
moment in the light of the fire, oblivious to all but the love they shared.

"Anora . . . my only love," Hakon murmured
huskily, finally tearing his lips from hers. He slowly sank to his knees, his
hands caressing the silky length of her body. As he gently cupped her breasts,
his tongue flickered around and around the pale pink nipples in a ring of fire,
tasting the nectar of the fig upon her warmed skin.

Gwendolyn moaned softly, wrapping her fingers in his
long white-blond hair as his mouth moved down her abdomen, caressing her navel,
to the mound of silver-blond curls below. He held her against him, reveling in
the taste and feel of her, while his strong fingers teased and stroked the soft
cleft between her silky thighs.

Wantonly writhing within his grasp, Gwendolyn felt lost
in a passion-numbed daze. Everything was so sweet, so wonderful. . . . Throwing
back her head, she exulted in the exquisite sensations that caused her to
tremble uncontrollably.

Hakon at last drew her down beside him on the luxurious
black fur until his hard length was poised above her. Thor, she was beautiful .
. . so soft, so willing . . . He knew she was ready for him. Ever so gently he
parted her legs with his knee,
then
entered her, but
not too far. She reached up to pull him to her, but he tenderly stretched her
slender arms above her head, holding her wrists with one strong hand. Suddenly
he brought his lips down upon her own at the same time he entered her
completely.

Gwendolyn gasped with pleasure, arching her back as he
lunged deep inside her. She struggled to free her arms so she could wrap them
about his neck, but he would not let her loose.

"Nay, Anora, do not struggle," he whispered
in her ear, his warm breath sending shivers racing through her. "Do not
move." She tried to do as he bade her, though it was difficult at first,
her hips instinctively moving in rhythm against his slow, measured thrusts. "Nay,
nay,
lie
still, my love," he said softly. "Let
me move within you."

Gwendolyn relaxed beneath him, closing her eyes as the
most delicious sensations washed over her. This was different from the times
before. Just as intense . . . but so achingly, so wonderfully different. She
felt as if her body were adrift in a warm sea, as wave after wave of the purest
pleasure radiated within her, crescendoing, yet ever so languorously. She could
feel his warm kisses on her throat, her eyelids,
her
lips. His fingers teased at her breast, stroking, caressing. Suddenly her
breath caught in her throat, all conscious thought driven from her mind, as the
sweetest, most exquisite wave of bliss broke over her.