Let Love In
By Terri Botta
Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I'm poor so don't sue.
Rating: M for later chapters.
Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse
Pairing: Eric/Sookie
Summary: Eric decides that it's time for him and Sookie to come to an understanding.
A/N: Okay. Before people start arguing with me about a point I make later in this chapter, in book 8, From Dead to Worse, CH writes that Sookie has heard Eric say he does not want to be King, nor does he want more territory than he already controls. So his position on that subject is canon. I know there's some speculation about what is to come in later books, but unless CH has Eric change his mind, overthrowing Felipe isn't one of them. Yet…
For historic references and all things Viking, please see The Viking Answer Lady. My description of Viking nuptials can be referenced here: w w w . vikinganswerlady . com / wedding . shtml (just delete the extra spaces)
There is one thing that bothers me about Eric. It's something that CH does not address. Vikings were famous for their long, full beards, yet Eric is clean-shaven. This is never fully explained. While there are many reasons for Eric to not have a beard, one of them could be that he was shaved as a punishment. Unless CH tells us why Eric doesn't have beard, we'll never really know. I don't make this speculation part of Sookie's mindset because it is unlikely, given her general penchant to not ask too many questions, that she might realize how odd that is. But I wonder…
Not sure how many more chapters this will be. It's wrapping up now.
Chapter Fourteen
It was impossible to describe the joy she felt at seeing him again, and she knew her happiness was not merely because of the bond. Ambitious plans indeed! Where had he gotten those clothes? Where had he gotten that sword? He looked amazing. She could feel her body reacting to the sheer beauty of him, recognizing him as a true alpha-male and ready to submit. Jesus, Sheppard of Judea, those pants…
He stopped her and held her at arm's length, looking her over thoroughly with his eyes. He was rumbling with pleasure, his eyes aglow, and she started to speak, but he placed a finger on her lips to silence her. Then he touched her with his fingertips, lightly, reverently, brushing feather-soft along her skin as he traced her face, her hair, her neck. She arched her throat, offering, and was rewarded with a throaty growl just before he bent his head and placed a lingering kiss on her jugular. His fangs were down but he did not bite.
He breathed deep, smelling her, pressing his nose to the soft spot behind her ear. She felt his eyelashes brushing against her skin. Her whole body was quivering with excitement, gooseflesh pimpling her skin. Her nipples were hard and straining against the built-in bra in the dress.
"You smell incredible," he whispered, his cool breath blowing across her earlobe. The sex in his voice made her shiver. "You smell of sandalwood and amber and earth and arousal."
"Eric…"
"Shhhhhhh."
He pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes, their faces so close she could count the pores on his nose, and she almost stopped breathing for the intensity in them. He seemed to realize what he was doing, because he dropped his gaze, releasing her and allowing her to breathe again. She drew a great, shuddering breath as his fingertips traced down the length of her bare arms to lightly clasp her hands.
"Your skin is like silk," he murmured. "Your nails are perfect."
He raised her hands to his face and marveled at her manicure. Surima had painted her nails a light silvery white to augment the silver and white beads on her dress.
"Perfect," he breathed and kissed her fingers, letting his lips linger on her knuckles.
She cracked. She yanked her hands from his, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as hard as she could. She heard him chuckle just before he got with the program, kissing her back as he cupped his hands behind the curve of her spine and pulled her close. She could feel something poking her, and she hoped it wasn't the hilt of the sword.
"Mmmm," she heard her Viking croon. "You taste of sunlight and honey mead. Your very presence intoxicates me."
"Must be the fairy blood," she teased, pressing against him, moaning when one hand caressed her ass while the other came up to palm her breast. He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and she almost sobbed.
"I could torture you for that," he scolded. "I could bring you right to the edge then back off, and, no matter how much you begged or cried, I would not let you come. I would keep you there, aching and wanting, until you were incoherent with need, and still I would not allow you to have release."
"Why would you punish me so terribly?" she asked, running her hands up his chest. The linen of his tunic felt crisp and clean.
"To press my point. I do not love you because you are part fey. I love you because you are the most amazing woman I have ever met. You are radiant and beautiful, and I cannot get enough of you," he said, claiming her mouth for another toe-curling kiss.
Their lips and tongues dueled, but he did not seem too interested in taking things to the next level. She groaned and tried to urge him along, but he was being his typical deliberate self.
"Do you renounce all ridiculous notions that I love you only because of how you taste and smell?" he asked when he pulled his mouth away.
She gritted her teeth in frustration as he continued to play with her nipple, driving her insane. She threatened him with bodily harm. He just laughed.
"Do you?" he pressed.
"Ungh," she moaned, rubbing against him as the lust buffeted her from all sides.
"Do you?"
"Y-yes," she stammered, clinging to him.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I renounce all the notions that you only love me because I'm part fairy."
"Very good. And here I thought I'd have to torture you for at least a little bit. You've ruined all my fun."
"Sorry. I hate to disappoint."
"You never disappoint, my lover."
His lips were at her throat again and she arched, stretching her neck out as far as possible, but once again he did not bite; he only licked along the vein making her tremble.
"Eric," she complained.
"So impatient, my lover. Don't you know some things are not meant to be rushed?"
He was teasing her and loving every minute of it. She groaned and slid her hand around his body, slipping her palm under the tunic to cup his ass. The leather pants were buttery soft, and she kneaded his butt like a cat, purring with pleasure.
"I'd rather take my time after I've gotten you out of these pants," she answered.
He chuckled and obligingly pushed his rump into her hand. "Like them, do you?"
"They're incredible. The whole outfit's incredible. Where did you get it?"
"The boots and cloak I got here. The tunic and trousers I bought at a Supe owned store in Duluth. After I left you, I chased the night west. I knew from the queen's dealings with the northern vampire kingdoms that there was a flourishing demon market there. The second store I tried had what I was looking for, and I was back on my way to you by 6am. I made it as far as Ironwood before I had to seek shelter for the day," he explained.
"And the sword?" The sword that was preventing her from getting both hands on his gorgeous ass.
"The sword and the brooch are mine. I had them shipped express post. They were waiting for me in Marquette when I got there."
That surprised her. "Did you call Pam and tell her to send them to you?"
"No. As much as I am confident in my child's loyalty, I would never entrust my most prized possessions to another vampire. My heirlooms are kept in a secure vault at a Supe owned establishment. Once I was back within cell phone range, I called them and gave them instructions on what I wanted and where to send it."
"Oh."
She stepped back to get a better look at him, paying close attention to the clasp on his cloak and the carved pommel of the sword. Both were intricately designed. The brooch was a large, round disk of brightly polished bronze. There was a stylized animal in the design, but she couldn't tell if it was a horse or a dragon. The pommel of the sword was a large half-circle and there were complex carvings on it as well. Both had to be at least 1000 years old.
"Eric, they're beautiful."
He gave her a smile of genuine pride and pleasure. "Thank you."
"You really do look amazing," she praised.
"I wanted to look my best for you, on this night of all nights."
"I can honestly say that you have succeeded."
He smiled and kissed her again, softly, lovingly, but she was getting tired of the slow pace. She wanted to bond with him already so they could get to the clothes-coming-off part.
"And you have exceeded my wildest expectations. You are radiant. I take it you enjoyed my gift?" he smoothed.
"Very much so. I want the opportunity to thank you properly for your thoughtfulness."
He snickered low in his throat. "My beautiful Southern Belle. Always so gracious and polite. You charm me utterly."
"Obviously not enough because we're not naked yet."
That made him roar with laughter and shake his head, grinning at her. "All in good time, my lover. Rest assured, I fully intend to fuck you in that dress, and then fuck you out of it, multiple times."
"Then we best get busy because we're supposed to leave tonight," she reminded, although she didn't know exactly when they were supposed to check out.
He grew a little serious and frowned, his eyes turning guilty. "I've done a bad thing," he admitted.
She sighed. "What did you do?"
"I extended our stay here until tomorrow night without your knowledge or consent."
"I… see."
"I rationalized that you would not want to leave here so soon after our blood-bonding. I assumed that you would want time to… savor our union." He put special emphasis on "savor," and she shivered all over.
"And what about my having to get back to work?" she questioned. She wasn't really angry because she'd been thinking the same thing: that having to leave so soon after blood-bonding would put a damper on the evening.
"I texted Pam and told her to tell your shifter we were snowed in by the November gale. No flights out until tomorrow night because they were still digging out the runways."
"Ah. You know, you're such a conniving liar sometimes it scares me."
He grinned, preening. "I know. But I cannot lie to you, my lover. We are linked. Now you will know when I tell an untruth."
"I bet you're so disappointed about that," she teased.
"No. What I am gaining is worth far more than what I'm losing. Are you mad at me now? Must I get back into your good graces before I can continue with my plan for the night?" he asked, giving her an apologetic look.
"Can I be mad after I get you out of those pants?"
He smiled, showing all his teeth, even his fangs. "Lover, I intend to make you forget you were ever angry with me in the first place."
She stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "I'm down with that."
He chuckled into her mouth, then let their tongues duel lazily. She allowed it, leaning into him and pressing close. Now that she knew there was no rush, the urgency she'd been feeling calmed down a little… but only a little. She was even more eager to get to the mind-blowing sex part of the night.
"Eric…"
He stepped away from her and took her hand, guiding her to stand in front of the fire where they faced each other. He held both of her hands and looked her right in the eye. The mood went from playful to deadly serious in an instant. This was it. She steeled herself and drew herself up to face him, waiting expectantly.
"Sookie Stackhouse, do you love me?" he asked firmly.
She took a deep breath and answered as quickly as her scrambling brain could muster. "Yes."
"Do you enter into this union willingly and of your own choosing?"
"Yes."
He smiled and she felt his pleasure and joy triple in the bond.
"I love you, Sookie Stackhouse, and I give my blood to you freely and willingly."
"I accept your blood and offer mine freely and willingly," she replied.
He nodded and she thought that they would now exchange blood. She moved to step closer so she could offer her neck, but he stopped her.
"I would like to say a few words first," he explained.
She nodded that she understood and waited. He still held her hands, but now he looked at them and rubbed the back of her palms with his thumbs.
"If we were alive, our fathers would have met to negotiate our marriage. A bride price would have been set for my family to pay to yours. The minimum would have been twelve ounces of silver, but I would have paid much, much more. For you I would have paid gold. I would have given a whole herd of cattle and horses. I would even have given a ship. I would have paid any price set for you in order to make you my wife."
And this was what Izzy had meant about taking his surprise in the spirit it was given. If she looked at it from a modern woman's point of view, she would have been insulted to be "purchased," but he was speaking from his heritage, telling her she was priceless.
"I would have been honored," she whispered, squeezing his hands to tell him that she understood.
"We would have been wed on a Friday in honor of Frigga sometime after the spring thaw, and the celebration would have lasted a week. Our families would have spent many nights feasting and cavorting in drunken revelry. On our wedding day we would have been bathed and dressed in our finest. Your hair would have been left unbound and uncovered, and a crown of silver and crystal would have been set upon your head."
She tried to imagine it, but really couldn't. She had no idea what a Viking woman would have looked like on her wedding day, but she could imagine that Eric would have looked exactly as he did tonight.
"I would have been given an ancestral sword to present to you, and you would have had one for me. We would have exchanged swords, and I would have placed a ring upon your finger, and you would have placed one on mine."
It was hard for her to wrap her head around what was happening. They were essentially getting married right there in the cabin's living room. Her bridal gown was the blue dress and his tuxedo was the tunic and leather pants. There were no attendants, no priest, no guests. It was just her and him, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes as they committed themselves to each other.
She half expected him to reach into a belt pouch or something to pull out a ring, but he didn't. Instead, he reached to his own neck and lifted an amulet that appeared to be made of gold over his head.
"I knew you would not accept a ring, so I give you this instead."
The pendant was a rectangle and on it were the stylized images of a man and a woman embracing in a kiss. The carving was crude, and she wondered how old it was as he slipped the chain over her head and let the amulet come to rest just above the valley of her breasts. She touched it gingerly. It was cool like his skin.
"Eric…"
"It is the sacred marriage of Freyr and Gerda. It is a token of my love and my commitment to you."
"It's beautiful. Thank you."
She knew she should be scared and uncertain because she hadn't really promised to marry him, but there was nothing official about the ceremony, no wedding record or marriage certificate, and his confidence and happiness were feeding hers. It was possible that this was all she would ever have: this moment, these words, this man pledging himself to her. It was so intensely private that she was grateful that they were alone. What they were feeling was too deep and too big for witnesses.
She was getting all choked up and teary, and she knew she was going to start crying any minute. Looking at him, she could see he was on the verge of tears too, his eyes rimmed with red. She saw him lick his lip and nod to himself, then he took a deep breath, stepped back and drew the sword. The blade gleamed in the firelight, flashing bright and deadly.
"Place your hand over mine," he instructed a little shakily as he offered the sword, pommel first.
She obeyed and curled her fingers around his on the hilt. They locked eyes, and he spoke in a steady, earnest voice.
"On this day I pledge myself to you. My sword is yours. My hearth is yours. I will share all I have with you. I will provide for you and shelter you from the cold. I will defend you against all enemies. I will bring you to my side, and all those who owe me fealty will honor you. This I swear in Thorr's name, and on my honor I will keep these sacred vows."
She swallowed hard and fought back the tears, sniffling. "Do I say anything?" she asked.
"Typically you would have made the appropriate vows of honor and fidelity," he replied.
She nodded that she understood. "Eric, I promise to love you and honor you. From this day forward, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live. Amen."
They were the only vows she knew. He gave her a little smile and leaned down to kiss her. His fangs were out. She could feel them behind his lips.
"Give me your wrist," he said softly.
She obligingly raised her free hand to his mouth. He kissed the pulsing vein there, then raised his left hand to his mouth and bit down. He offered her the bleeding wounds, and, as she closed her lips over the punctures, she felt him bite her wrist and begin to suck.
They were joined in a circle of blood, each feeding the other, their other hands clasped tightly around the hilt of his sword, and she felt the power of his essence flowing into her as their bond flared and sealed in a great rush. In that endless moment, they joined completely, souls entwining and fusing, until she had no idea who was who and didn't care. She had never felt so complete, so whole in her entire life, as if she had been only half a person or only half alive before she had bonded to this magnificent creature who was just as broken and empty as she had been.
They were so close, she didn't even realize they'd stopped exchanging blood and were kissing until she felt his fang scrape her lip.
"Eric…"
Her answer was a tortured moan as the lust between them flared out of control. She broke contact and raced for the stairs. He beat her to them, barring the way with the flat of his sword. His eyes were glowing like two laser beams piercing right through her.
"After the wedding, we would have run to the hall for the wedding feast. I would have met you there and barred your way with my sword so I could carry you over the threshold myself. It was considered a terrible omen if the bride tripped upon entering her new home," he told her, then he sheathed his sword, grabbed her and whisked her up the stairs where he all but threw her on the bed.
She scrambled back onto the mattress, making room for him to join her as they kissed fiercely. Her hands were already at his throat, trying to unhook the brooch so she could push off the cloak. He'd already unfastened the belt and dropped the sword to the floor. The cloak fell away and joined it on the carpet.
"Then once we were inside, I would have thrust my sword into the rooftree to judge the fortune of our marriage by the depth of the scar," he said between kisses.
"I think they'd be unhappy if you put a hole in the roof of this cabin," she said breathlessly.
"No doubt you are correct. I will have to forego that tradition."
"How about we skip to the tradition of the groom fucking his bride senseless?"
"I love how you think," he replied, suckling her breast through the fabric of her dress. She clutched his head and arched, keening his name.
His hands were sliding under her dress, hitching it up to her waist, and she realized that he was serious about screwing her with her still in it. She gasped and convulsed as he ripped off the thong panties and plunged his fingers into her.
"Ericericericeric…" she sobbed as he worked her, stretching and thrusting.
She clawed at his tunic and was rewarded with him yanking it off to reveal his perfect, marble white chest. He left the pants on, though, and she fumbled with the buttons on the leather until they opened and he sprang free. He'd gone commando. The lust she felt was about to burn her alive, and she was just about to scream when he mounted her in one hard, desperate thrust.
He filled her with such force it slammed the headboard of the bed against the wall, and the roughness of their coupling banged it rhythmically in time with his pumping. She was incoherent, keening and straining, as he peeled down her dress to free her breasts, his mouth seizing each nipple in alternating turns.
"Promise me! Promise me you will wear this dress on this night every year. Promise me so I can fuck you in it every time!" he cried.
"I promise! I promise! Promise me you'll wear these pants!" she answered, grabbing his butt through the supple leather.
"Done!" he agreed, then followed it up with a harsh sob.
No more was said as he drove her insane, riding her, claiming her, making her his own inside and out. When she finally came, screaming, he came with her, his voice a triumphant roar that shook the room. She was still feeling aftershocks five minutes later when she came back to her senses. Eric was collapsed on top of her, his hips still spasmodically thrusting a little as he continued to convulse. He was still inside her, turgid and full. She grunted softly with each movement. She was going to need a dozen mineral baths to soak away the soreness from this one.
"Give it a few moments. My blood will heal you," he whispered tenderly, his lips against her ear when he'd heard her moan.
She answered him with a little mew and gave him a nudge so he would support his own weight. He lifted up onto his arms and looked at her, smiling. She looked at him, then down at herself and frowned. She looked positively debauched. Her dress had been pushed up past her hips and pulled down to just below her breasts. She was still wearing her thigh high hose and one of her shoes. Her skin was flushed and peppered with hickeys left from her vampire's lips, and her spread legs were still wrapped around her lover's hips, his hardness still inside her.
She could see where they were joined, and it was an erotic and satisfying sight. He seemed to think so, too, because he began moving again, slow, lazy strokes that she focused on as she watched him sliding in and out of her. His thick, golden curls meshed with hers on each instroke. He was very well padded down there, probably because Vikings needed it for extra warmth. He really was blond all the way down.
It was fascinating to see what he was doing and correlate it with what her body was feeling as he moved. Each time his pelvis pressed against hers, they both gasped and grunted, then Eric bent down again to suckle her breasts, paying them homage as he rode her with agonizing slowness. She gave a little "guk" sound and arched her back, and he lifted up again so she could watch what they were doing. He gave her a sly smile.
"Like that do you? You're as much of a voyeur as I am," he teased, letting his line of sight follow hers as he quickened his pace.
She couldn't answer because she was seeing stars again. Her head fell back, her chest heaving, but he brought her back to the present with a quick, hard thrust that hit her special spot dead on.
"Look at me, lover," he commanded and she obeyed.
Her hands came up to grip his forearms as she arched her pelvis up to drive him deeper. His pleasure and satisfaction surged through the bond; his lips curled into a sensual grin.
"You may watch me, or you may watch what I am doing to you," he instructed. "Either way, don't close your eyes. I want to see the lust in them as I fuck you."
"Eric…"
"Sookie."
He was going for it. The headboard was banging against the wall again, and she was crying, gripping his arms so hard she would have cut off his circulation if he'd had any. Her thighs were clamped around his hips, keeping him at just the right angle to drive her over the edge, as she moved with him in time with his thrusts. She felt them both building, knew it was coming as the wave crested and the power released, spreading the pleasure throughout their bodies in a golden rush. Eric shouted something that was unintelligible as she gasped his name, shaking as she climaxed.
He finally disengaged when they stopped trembling. She felt him pulling out and winced. He grunted a little, then scooted down and began licking her where she was sore. She could feel his tongue laving the raw spots where he'd been a little too rough, and she began sobbing as she felt herself building for yet another climax.
"Eric… Eric…"
"Shhh. Let me take care of you," he murmured, spreading her with his thumbs so his tongue could get even deeper.
She tangled her hands in his thick hair, knowing without having to see that he'd bit his tongue and was now bathing her sore places with his healing blood, just like Bill had done after their first time and she was sore from the deflowering. Only Bill had used his fingers. Her first lover hadn't been nearly as orally fixated as her Viking.
He brought her off, then crawled up her body, kissing and stroking her face as he crooned a soothing tune. She could taste herself on his lips as she rolled towards him, cleaving to him as they both wept and licked each other's tears away.
"I love you," he whispered between tender kisses.
"Thank you."
They lay there, tangled in each other, for several minutes. The rush was coming down, but she could still feel his blood dancing in her arteries. It reminded her of the carbonated candy that children placed on their tongues and then giggled as it fizzed and hopped in their mouths. Eric's blood was Pop Rocks in her veins. She laughed softly to herself.
"What's so funny?" he asked fondly.
She shook her head, realizing that she was nearly delirious with euphoria. She wondered if Eric was feeling the same way, then realized that half of why she was so high was because he was just as ecstatic as she was.
"Your blood is Pop Rocks," she said stupidly, giggling,
"My blood is what?" he questioned, chuckling.
"It's this candy. It's carbonated like soda pop. When you put it on your tongue it fizzes and hops around in your mouth."
"My blood is fizzing and hopping inside you?" He was definitely amused.
"It feels that way. Like little fireworks."
"I think I know what you mean. It's like it's sparkling in my veins," he admitted. "Like…"
"Sunlight on snow," she finished.
"Yes. That's it exactly. Was it sunny today?"
"Yes."
"Was it beautiful?"
"Very much so."
"Ahh. I never missed sunlight until I met you."
The conversation was oddly familiar and she frowned. He felt her emotional shift immediately.
"What is it?"
"I think… I think we've had this conversation before."
"Hmm? Huh. It seems… familiar to me too."
"Do vampires experience Déjà vu?"
"I… I have no idea." He seemed just as surprised as she was.
"Hmm. Doesn't matter."
"No," he agreed, stroking her arm gently. "All that matters is this."
"Yes."
He moved, sitting up, and began peeling off her hose, his hands sliding along her calves lovingly.
"You look utterly ravished," he commented with his typical smugness.
"Your fault. You pillaged me, you big Viking."
He laughed and lowered his mouth again. She only let him get in a few licks before she stopped him.
"Please. I need to rest a little."
He sighed but obeyed, removing the hose from the other leg. It joined its mate on the floor, then she watched as he pushed the leather pants over his hips and kicked them off.
"I do love those pants," she admitted.
"I'll wear them for you whenever you like," he promised.
"I don't know if I'd ever let you out of the bedroom with them on. And I definitely don't want anyone else seeing you in them."
He chuckled and began working the dress over her head.
"I feel the same way about this dress. You are too magnificent for anyone else's eyes when you are in it."
He obligingly shook it out, turned it right-side out and put it on its hanger. She gave him an approving smile as he came back to bed.
"Thanks."
"I don't want anything to happen to it," he replied, stretching out alongside her and opening his arms in invitation. She snuggled up with a happy sigh as he draped the eiderdown over their naked bodies and glanced at the clock, frowning when she realized that less than an hour had passed since he had told her it was okay to come down. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
"I'm glad you extended our stay. It's good that we don't have to leave tonight," she said, nuzzling his chest. Her soreness was much better. Her vampire was very good.
He chuckled, his hand stroking her back lightly. "I am glad you agree with me. You do know that you're not getting out of this bed until dawn. If you get hungry, I'm ordering in again and feeding you."
She lifted up and glared down at him. "Oh no you're not! I had to strip the bed and soak the sheets in cold water after the mess we made last night."
His eyes opened wide and then he laughed. "Mess we made? My lover, you're the one who insisted on turning my body into your dessert."
"I didn't hear you complaining," she groused.
"Why should I? Feeling your hot, sweet tongue on my skin was incredible. When you sucked me, I thought my head was going to explode… the one on my shoulders that is. It was one of the most erotic, pleasurable experiences I've ever had. I'd have ruined dozens of sets of sheets to have you do that to me again."
She snorted. "You do know that everyone on this island knows what we've been up to."
"Does that bother you?"
She sighed and settled down again, hugging him. "Not as much as it should."
He gave a satisfied little noise and drew her close. "Good. Our pleasure in each other should never be something that shames you. I am proud of how well you know my body and how much you can make me scream. It speaks of how good we are together if we can bring each other such ecstasy."
The admission of how she could make him scream made her tingle all the way down to her toes. She reached up and tugged one of his braids playfully.
"I like the hair by the way," she said.
He turned his head and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad. I'll wear it this way all the time, if you like."
"Only of you want to."
"It's no hardship to braid my hair. Perhaps you can even braid it for me."
"I'm not big on the fancy hair stuff. You might not like how they come out."
He smiled. "I'll take my chances."
She shrugged and shifted into a more comfortable position tucked against him. He reached over and fingered the necklace he'd given her. She lifted it up and looked at it, examining the two figures carved in the gold.
"Who are these people again?"
"Freyr and Gerda," he answered. "Freyr was a god. One of the Vanir, the first gods, and he lived with the Aesir along with his sister, Freyja. One day when Odin was away, Freyr sat upon Odin's throne, and he could see all of the nine worlds from there. And he looked into the land of the giants, and he saw Gerda, and he fell in love. Gerda was a frost giantess, the daughter of Gymir, but love between the Aesir and the giants was forbidden. Freyr fell into a deep sadness, but he would not tell anyone why he was so depressed. Finally, his servant Skirnir was able to find out why his master was so sad."
"I read about this," she interrupted.
"You did?" He was unable to hide the pleasure in his voice.
"Yeah. When I was looking up Hlin. Freyr gave his servant a magic horse and a sword, and sent him to bring Gerda back with him."
"That he did. And he and Gerda were wed, and they were very happy together."
"But then later, because he'd given his sword away, Freyr had no sword when Rag.. Ragn…"
"Ragnarok," he supplied amicably.
"Yeah, that. The doom of the gods. He had no sword to fight with when the giants attacked, and Freyr was killed."
"Yes."
"Kinda sad," she commented, letting the pendant rest against her skin again.
"But the gods knew they would die. They knew the prophecy. Ragnarok would come, some of them would die, and the world would be reborn."
"But none of that ever happened, did it?"
"I don't know. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. I know it never happened in my lifetime, but that doesn't mean it couldn't happen or that it didn't. If Helen can exist, then what's to say that Odin and Thorr and Freyja can't as well? In every myth lies a grain of truth."
"Like the myths about vampires and fairies," she said fondly, resting her chin on his chest so she could smile at him. He smiled back.
"I am the stuff of legends," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, showing a little fang.
She giggled and let her hand drift southward even though she wasn't really looking for another round. "I'll say."
He grinned and laughed, sweeping back a lock of her hair with his fingertip. "I love you."
"I love you too, even though it scares me sometimes," she admitted.
"You don't ever have to be afraid. I'm with you."
"I know."
"I'll protect you from all dangers. You will want for nothing," he vowed, then grinned as his eyes lit up with glee. "Which reminds me…"
"Uh-oh," she said, not liking the look in his eyes at all.
"Now that we have been put to bed and consummated our bond…"
"Put to bed?" she repeated incredulously.
"Well, yes. After the wedding feast, you would have been taken to our marriage bed and prepared by your women attendants, and I would have been guided to you by torchlight. Then we would have been put into bed together, and our union witnessed by six people who could identify us later and attest to the legitimacy of our marriage."
She blinked. "Six people would have watched us have sex?" she squeaked.
"Well… not the actual act. They would just have had to see us together in the marriage bed. It was very rare for anyone to stay for the… uhh… consummation. Although if it was a very important alliance wedding, witnesses might have remained, but for us..." He stroked her cheek. "I would not have allowed it."
"That's good to know."
He laughed. "But afterwards… once our union was sealed, then it would be time for me to give you your morgen-gifu."
"My morgen-what?"
"Morgen-gifu. Morning gift. The gift I would have held in trust for you for after we were joined. It would have consisted of clothes and jewelry and things for our new home, cattle and land and houses…"
"Land and houses?"
"King Gormr gave Þyri the entire land of Denmark. If I were King I would give you all of Louisiana."
"You don't want to be King, and I certainly would not want Louisiana."
"True. It is a hopeless backwater," he admitted with a sigh.
"Hey. Watch it. It might be a hopeless backwater, but it's my hopeless backwater."
"Forgive me if I have insulted you."
She snorted and rested her cheek on his chest again, feeling happy and at peace. Eric sharing and joking with her was a wonderful thing.
"So what did you have planned for my morgen-whatever?" she asked casually, running her finger through his chest hair.
"Morgen-gifu," he corrected. "And I was thinking that I'd start with a new car."
She sat up straight and glared down at him. "A new car?"
"Your car is crappy and you know it."
"There's nothing wrong with my car," she insisted, offended.
"It's a Malibu. That's bad enough."
"It's the nicest car I've ever owned. Tara gave it to me after mine got burned when Charles, the bartender you sent home with me, set my house on fire."
"I know full well how you got that car, and I was mightily unhappy about her giving it to you. I wanted to get you a new car then, but she beat me to it, and I knew you'd never accept a vehicle from me once she'd gifted you with that piece of crap," he complained with a look of distaste on his face.
She was just about to get herself worked up into a good froth when she felt his anger and disappointment and hurt through the bond and that calmed her down a little. Like Niall always wanting to have something to give to her, Eric was much the same way. He wanted to "prove" his love. Didn't he realize that he didn't have to prove anything?
"Okay, look. I'll make you a deal," she began and he gave her a raised eyebrow.
"Are you negotiating, my darling?" he asked with a grin.
"Yes, I'm negotiating. You already are giving me a new bathroom…"
"I won that right in a fair bet," he reminded.
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. But that still doesn't change the fact that it's gonna cost a small fortune."
He waved a dismissive hand as if to say "So?"
"So how about this… you give up on the new car thing and I'll… I'll…"
"Yes? And you'll?" he prompted when she got caught up on trying to decide what she should offer in lieu of the car. "C'mon, darling, make me an offer I can't refuse."
"I'll… let you put in the big tub," she conceded.
His eyes lit up. "You'll let me knock out the wall and expand the bathroom to put in the big Kohler?"
She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Yes."
He grinned. "Done!" He reached up to cup her face, looking very pleased with her. "Oh brilliantly played, my lover. I was going to get you a sports car, but it would have been exceedingly difficult for me to fuck you in it. You've made me a much better offer. I'm so proud of you."
"That's it."
She grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it, pressing down. He allowed it, lying still with his hands folded over his chest. After about four minutes, he started tapping his fingers.
"Exactly how long am I supposed to let you do this?" he asked finally, although since it was a jumbled mumble she had to guess that was what he'd said.
"Until I feel better," she answered.
He huffed, then she watched as he slid one hand down to her crotch. Since she had both hands on the pillow, she had no way of stopping him as he slipped two fingers into her and started rubbing her nub with his thumb.
"No fair," she complained, squirming.
He kept at it until she had no choice but to release the pillow as she gasped and arched into his hand.
"I take it you're feeling better?" he asked smugly.
"Shut up…"
"Of course. I can think of much better things to do with my mouth."
"Nnnnghh."
He chuckled, then pulled his fingers out, taking her by the hips and lifting her up easily to straddle his face. Soon his tongue was working it's magic. God he loved oral sex. How'd she get so lucky?
He held her in place by cupping her butt and keeping her steady so she had no choice but to lean over and grip the headboard for support. He reached one hand up to fondle her dangling breasts.
"Eric!" It was a plea and a warning at the same time.
He grunted then maneuvered her down his body to sit her down onto his hardness, thrusting up into her.
It was unhurried and tender. Eric wasn't in any rush to finish and neither was she, so letting him move her up and down on him was no problem as she relaxed and let him take care of everything. He finally moved them so he was in a sitting position, his arms cupped under her ass as her arms and legs wrapped around him. She dropped her head to his neck and she felt his lips against her throat, but he didn't bite. He had to give him credit for his control. He took his mouthfuls from her breast in the last few moments before both of them climaxed.
Afterwards, he placed her beside him, curling around her as he stroked her and whispered compliments into her ear. She drifted in peaceful bliss, sinking down into the bond and his love, and she felt it open fully, surrounding her with his presence until she was privy to his thoughts.
He was thinking of how much he adored her. How happy she made him and how frightened he was that Felipe would try to use them against each other, or try to make them do things by threatening the other. He hated the new king, resented him terribly, but yet he had no desire to seize power. He'd had plenty of opportunity to take over after Sophie-Ann had been so badly injured in Rhodes, but he hadn't. He had all the territory he wanted. He just wanted to govern what he had, run his bar and his businesses, and be left in peace to love his bonded. Any more power would have made him an even bigger target than he already was, and the fact that she was a fragile human was of deep concern to him. For all his assurances that he would protect her, his greatest fear was that he would fail. Apparently something like that had happened before…
He started to remember something old and ugly and horribly painful, but she felt him clamp it down and seal it off.
'Past is past. Learn and don't make the same mistakes…' she heard. 'Love the woman. Love her and pray it's enough.'
She stayed very still, not letting on that she could hear him. Izzy had warned her that they would start to be able to hear each other, but that it was something that they should not advertise. Reading into Eric's fears, she could understand why. She tried to calm his unsettled mood by projecting her own joy and happiness into the bond, and she felt it work as he sighed and his mood lightened.
"I love you," she murmured, knowing those were three words he delighted to hear.
He fingered the gold amulet, touching it with reverence. It was her wedding ring, the physical symbol of her bond with Eric. She ought to get him something.
"I love you too."
She sighed and snuggled close. Hearing Eric tell her he loved her was a wonderful thing indeed.
Her stomach growled and he snickered.
"Shall I call for food?"
"Sure," she agreed, not wanting to move. "No chocolate or raspberry sauces though."
"You don't want to eat me?" He sounded disappointed.
"I can eat you plenty without the mess."
"I'll hold you to that."
She snorted, then whined when he pushed her away.
"No…"
"I'm just going to go downstairs and call for a meal. I'll be back in twenty minutes," he assured her, tucking the eiderdown around her and kissing her temple.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Okay then."
She felt him leave the loft and she realized that she could track him easily through the bond without having to even think about it. It was like she had a little GPS unit in her brain and the blip on the screen was Eric, and she could watch the blip as it moved about the cabin, going to the intercom… Oh, she could hear him. He was buzzing the concierge to get the kitchen.
"Eric…" she said, not raising her voice. He paused and waited. She could feel his alertness.
"Get me more of those nummy appetizers that you got last night. And get yourself one of those fairy blood pods."
Surprise then lust and anticipation.
"Really?" he asked.
It was amazing. She could hear him all the way down the stairs and across the living room. She wondered how heightened her senses were now.
"Yeah, I wanna experience what you're like on fairy blood. We didn't get a chance Sunday night."
The thoughts coming across were positively obscene and she was shocked. She didn't think some of the things he was thinking were even physically possible, but she licked her lips and pretended she couldn't hear his wild imaginings.
"As you wish, my lover. I hope you can take me."
"If I can't, I trust you'll know that before I do."
"Yes."
She heard him give the order then terminate the connection.
"Twenty minutes, my lover," he said.
"Yeah."
"Are you having any difficulty hearing me?"
"No."
His blip moved to the far side of the dining room. "Can you hear me now?"
"Yeah."
He moved into the windowless room and closed the door. "How about now?"
"What is this? A cell phone commercial?"
He laughed. "Just testing how far your range is. I must admit I wasn't expecting your hearing to be so sharp." He sounded as if he would burst with pride, and she could feel his happiness in the bond. If she was strong and could hear and see… He was so pleased.
"Uh-huh. You go out in the snow and I'm not letting you back in bed."
"Is that a challenge?"
"It's a promise. Or better yet, I'll call Izzy and have her take pictures of you buck naked in a snowbank and put them up on the Internet."
"Free advertising for Fangtasia!"
She groaned, but he just laughed and laughed. "I love you," he finally said.
"Love you too."
She watched his blip zip from the back of the windowless room all the way up the stairs until he was leaning over her. She was a little dizzy from it actually.
"Are you okay, my lover?" he asked, nuzzling her with his nose while her head spun.
"Yeah. Just a little dizzy. I was tracking you and you moved so fast."
"Ah. Our bond is strong."
"Yeah. Izzy was right."
"I was hoping she'd be wrong," he confided, his worry and concern coming across the connection. The blip that was him in her head began to change colors. It went from blue-green to swirling yellow and bright scarlet red mixed with streaks of black.
"Why?"
"Felipe will use it against us." Yellow flared to brighter red as his protective instincts rose. There was more black.
"We won't let him." She sent her own conviction through the bond. Red settled and the blue began to come back.
"Please understand, there may come a time when, in order to protect you, I may have to seize power or abdicate it."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," she assured him.
Blue was back now, turning to purple as he slid into bed with her.
"Don't you dare touch me with your cold feet," she warned.
"You are a hard-hearted woman," he accused, snuggling up along her back.
"And don't you ever forget it," she sniffed.
Purple danced and flared with little sparks of white as he snickered.
"When's food?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"Okay."
Purple warred with indigo in swirls. She felt his hardness pressed against her backside as one hand slid around to lie against her lower abdomen.
"Enough time for a quickie?" he asked hopefully.
"Uhh. No."
He chuckled, but bumped against her a few times until she gave him a little kick. The white sparkles were back and she began to associate them with amusement. So she could see his emotions as well as feel them. That meant purple and indigo were arousal. Blue-green must be happiness and contentment. Anger was obviously the scarlet and black. Interesting little tidbit for her to squirrel away for later examination.
"You are cruel," he said but she knew he wasn't at all upset.
"Yep."
He snickered again, his lips pressed to her shoulder. Purple faded to blue-green and she felt him relax. Cuddling was so nice with him and she told him so.
"Want to know what I remembered first when I got my memory back?" he asked.
"What?"
"I remembered being terrified that first night, and you let me snuggle with you. You held my hand."
"Ah." She remembered that night all too well. Eric, so scared and lost, in such need of comfort and reassurance. It had been so nice to be needed.
"That was the night I swore to myself that I'd make you mine no matter what."
"Was I worth the wait?"
A new color filled the blip, a deep crimson that was edged with purple, it swirled as the blip expanded, and she could feel his affection and joy flooding into the bond.
"Oh yes."
She sighed and pushed back into his arms, letting him hold her until the food arrived, watching in her mind's eye as the blip pulsed and settled in its colors. Whaddya know. Crimson was the color of love.
TBC