Lord of Rage & Primal Instincts (14 page)

“Elden was our ally. Your father saw to that,” he accused. “We arrived to a massacre. And an ambush. I killed as many of your people as I could. Enjoyed watching your dead sizzle in the sunlight when it came. I taught you to fight. I brought you into my home, I shared—” He cut off his own words. “All this time you knew. You encouraged me to share my stories of the people your family killed.” He stalked toward her. “Your lies won’t protect you now.”

Breena shook her head, backing away from him. “That’s not it at all. Something inside me said not to mention Elden, some instinct.” The evasion sounded terrible even to her. “But I swear, Osborn, it’s not because of that. My father is an honorable king. He’s a diplomat, not a fighter.”

Osborn made a brutal sound. “Tell that to my mother. To my dead sister. I swore vengeance on you. On all of Elden. And I kept my hands off of you. Thinking you were something more than…Elden.”

The way he said her homeland packed a punch of bitterness and venom. His hands fisted at his sides, and he lunged at her.

Breena stumbled backward, her feet catching in the folds of fabric of her gown. She landed against a tree; the rough bark poked into her shoulder blades. She could go no farther. The man had taught her many techniques when in battle with an opponent bigger and larger than herself. He probably never expected her to
use any of those on him. Breena cupped his cheek. Distracting him. “Osborn…”

He paused. For one crucial moment.

“I’m sorry,” she told him at the same instant she kneed him between the legs.
Hard.

Osborn groaned and doubled over, gripping his stomach. Breena took the opportunity to push him to the ground, grabbing from her boot the knife he’d instructed her to keep hidden. She straddled him, pushing her nose to his. “I could be running away at this moment. Your instructions were to not stick around, remember?”

His eyes blazed with something past hate.

Breena lifted the blade to the beating pulse in his neck. “I could also cut you right now. See? You did manage to teach me quite a bit.”

His lips thinned. She felt his skin chill and watched as his pupils began to narrow and focus. She’d triggered his
berserkergang.
But she wasn’t scared. Breena had just spent her last moment of fear. She’d die before she felt frightened again.

And that fearsome thing inside him would not hurt her. She
knew
it.

The harshness of their breathing blanketed around them. The sun overhead created gruesome knife-wielding shadows. “My people did not attack yours.”

Some of his wrath cooled. “I can see that you believe it.”

It was a beginning. “You said the attackers burned in the sun?”

“Those that didn’t flee. Cold-skinned cowards.”

“Elden’s vamps can walk in the sun. My brother Nicolai is as warm-blooded as you and me. My father was arranging an advantageous marriage to secure El
den’s future.
That’s
how he did things. Not through battle.”

Osborn squeezed his eyes tight. She knew he was fighting her, fighting what he’d held to be true.

“They wore Elden’s colors.”

“It must have been a tactical move in case there were any survivors.”

She watched his swallow. Emotion warred in his eyes. “Clever, because I planned my own vengeance against your people.”

And with his
berserker
power, he would have taken the lives of a lot of her people. Although it would have been a much more merciful death than that from the Blood Sorcerer.

“I wonder if it’s the same enemy. But to wait all these years…it seems unlikely.”

She wanted to tell Osborn what she’d discovered in her dream. That the Blood Sorcerer killed her parents. But now this was all about Osborn.

“I’m going to drop this knife. Toss it out of the way.”

That was the plan she had, nothing much more than that. Breena rolled off his big frame.

He trapped her hands before she could scramble completely out of his reach. “You know I could have overpowered you at any time.”

She’d guessed it. “But you didn’t.”

He dropped her hands, and leaned against the tree. She watched as he scrubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

His brown eyes met hers. “Because I wanted to believe you. Because I want…I want so many things since I found you in my bed.”

Her stomach dipped, and her heart began to race.
Many times she imagined the lover of her future. A man with courtly manners. A man who’d kiss the back of her hand. A man who’d ask for the honor of dancing with her.

Never had she imagined the man she’d want by her side to be conflicted, guilt-ravaged and so, so fallible. And yet perfect.

As a princess, Breena had two jobs, stay a virgin and marry well.

She was about to fail at one of her princessly duties.

O
SBORN FLINCHED WHEN
she stroked his arm. His hand instantly grasped hers, stilling her fingers.

She gave him an encouraging smile. “Let me.” And his hand fell away. Breena traced the arch of his eyebrow. Ran her fingers down the length of his nose. His lips. The stubble covering his cheek. The muscles bunched below her fingertips. His strong body trembled for the briefest of moments.

“Let me love you,” she urged.

The man before her tensed. Every muscle, every force of his body, tightened like her words were a physical blow to him. His eyes closed and his fists clenched at his sides. Who was he fighting now? Her or himself?

Then his lids lifted, and his gaze bore into hers. She saw all the hurt and anger he’d suffered since the attack on his home. He allowed her to see it.

“I want to love you tonight,” she whispered against his neck, and she felt him shiver.

But he didn’t push her away.

Her heart lifted in relief and she placed tiny little kisses on his neck, the line of his jaw and finally to his lips. Breena tugged his lower lip into her mouth with her teeth. Sucked on it until he moaned.

“Take me to your lake,” she invited him. Without waiting for an answer, she tugged his hand to her mouth, kissed his palm, then drew him to his feet. They walked
the short distance to the place that would always be so special to her.

After removing her boots, careful to tuck her knife inside them, she turned to him. With the water at her back, she lifted her shirt and raised it above her head, drawing the woolen fabric against her skin in sensual slowness.

“You said you hated me in boy’s clothes.”

“Glad they’re off of you.”

Her nipples puckered before his heated gaze. Osborn’s brown eyes turned almost black in the dying light.

Breena walked to him slowly, loosening the pants and kicking them out of the way. He was reaching for his own shirt, but she stopped his hands of further movement. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

He swallowed. Hard. She lifted his shirt up and over his head. His pants stretched tight against his growing cock.

“These can’t be too comfortable,” she told him with a click of her tongue.

“Growing more uncomfortable by the moment,” he told her.

She smiled at this amazing man before her, feeling happy and desirable and very, very wanted. Hooking her thumbs around the material, she drew his pants down those defined legs of his, finely muscled and strong.

Osborn was magnificent. His body was honed, and crisscrossed by scars, some small, some brutal-looking. She traced a jagged one beneath his collarbone. The one on his face was new, and from the night they’d first met when they battled the creature of blood magic.

Breena ran her fingers along his fine features, his jaw, his eyebrows. He gripped her hands in his, lowering
his head. A breath separated their lips, and she raised on tiptoe to kiss him. He clutched her in his arms with a groan. Osborn’s kiss was a burning, searing thing, filled with pain, hope and so much passion.

His hands turned bold, palming her breast, caressing her hip, taking a lazy path down the sensitive skin of her spine. Goose bumps formed along her arms and her nipples tightened against the rough-haired strength of his chest. She couldn’t get enough of touching him. Just running her hands over the roped muscles of his arms shot little thrills through her body.

“Look at me,” he urged, his voice raw with passion.

Her lids drifted open as his questing fingers rounded her hips and cupped her bottom. With a jerk, he brought her flush against his naked skin. The hardness of his erection left no doubt how much he wanted her, and her knees weakened.

Osborn scooped her up into his arms, and stalked to the soft sandy bank of the lake.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you,” she told him with a laugh.

“Next time,” he promised, his voice rough and filled with need.

“Yes.” She nodded. Now and quickly. She looped her arms around his neck and drew his head down to hers once more. His lips parted hers, and his tongue surged inside her mouth. Their kiss was urgent and hurried.

He drew her down with him; the gentle lap of water at their feet was warm and sensual. Osborn stretched alongside her, his mouth and hands seeking her breasts. His lips teased and tormented her nipple until he finally drew her into the warmth of his mouth. Breena arched to meet him, her body aching and slick for the joining
of their bodies. She’d been ready for this man a lifetime. Across her dreams to his.

“We have to take this slow, Breena. This will be your first time, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then touch me.” She ached for his hands in her most secret of places.

“Here?” he asked, skimming the skin of her rib cage.

“Lower.”

Now his hand smoothed over her belly. “What about here?”

“Lower,” she urged.

His fingers slid easily along the wetness between her legs.

“Yes.” Her voice was a moan. A wave of sensation flooded her at his caress.

“Touching is good, but I’d rather taste.” Osborn hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, then kissed where her very awareness seemed centered.

Osborn circled his tongue, ramping up her pleasure. She felt the gentle probe of his finger. He slid inside her, and her inner muscles clamped.

“This is going to be so good,” he told her, then proved it by laving her with his tongue.

A second finger joined the first, and he gave a tiny thrust that left her aching and needing release. Her whole body began to surge and tremble.

“Don’t make me wait anymore, Osborn.”

A line formed between his brows. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’d do anything not to cause you pain.”

“I don’t care. I need you. Need you inside me. Now.”

He moved between her legs, his cock so long and thick she almost rethought her readiness. He positioned himself where his fingers had been.

“Watch,” he told her. “See your body welcoming mine.”

With gentle pressure, he thrust inside her, found the barrier of her virginity and broke through.

There was pain, but there was so much more. The weight of him on her body. The gentle kiss he placed on her temple. The pleasure shaping his beautiful face. And then the pain was gone. Replaced by a blissful frenzy. The fullness of him. The length of him inside her. Osborn began to move his hips and her tender body grew used to the motion.

“Harder?” he asked.

Breena didn’t know if harder was what she wanted but she was willing to give it a try. “Yes,” she whispered.

Osborn complied. Yes, harder was definitely what she wanted. He thrust again and again, going faster, the sensations growing more intense. Breena raised her hips to meet his hips. Needing more of him. She’d experienced pleasure with him once before. She craved that now. Her thirst for the thrill building and building.

“Wrap your legs behind my back,” he instructed.

The change brought the core of her need hard up against his thrusts. Osborn licked below her ear. Squeezed her breast. He was everywhere. Over her. In her. She breathed him inside her with each breath she took.

“You feel so good, Breena.”

The raw pleasure in his words sent her over the edge. She gasped. “Osborn, I’m—”

“Yes, Breena, yes,” and he surged within her.

A current of sensation shimmered through her body, and she squeezed the hard length of him. With a groan, his back stiffened and he poured himself into her.

Spent, he slumped against her, balancing the bulk of his weight on his arms. They lay there together, unable to move. Then Osborn rolled to his back, taking her with him, and cradled her head against his chest.

Breena couldn’t imagine sharing something so intimate with anyone but Osborn. When Elden was restored, she’d refuse any match Nicolai would make on her behalf. She wanted no one but Osborn. His arms holding her tight. His lips on hers. His body giving her pleasure.

She trailed her fingertip along the warm skin of his chest. “Does your
berserker
ever come out when…you know.”

Osborn laughed, and she closed her eyes in pleasure.
She
had done this to him. Made him happy. Lifted him from the agony he’d consigned himself to. Breena had never truly understood or appreciated the gift that was her magic.

“Give me a few minutes and we can try.”

All that force and strength and power, it was a little daunting. “How did you become
berserker?
”

Osborn twined his fingers with hers. “Our ancestors tell us man and bear were once one
bermannen
.
Bermannen
and his mate were clever, too clever for the gods’ liking. They captured the secrets of lightning and made fire. They stole the key to the clouds and could control the weather.
Bermannen
and his mate even grew wise enough to discover the mysteries of the soil to grow their own food. The two needed nothing from the gods.”

Breena propped herself up on her elbow to gaze down at Osborn. “What happened?” She knew many tales, but none that involved the Ursan deities.

“The gods grew jealous, so they separated the two.
All the strength and power went to bear, while wisdom went to man.
Mannen
and
ber
cried to be united. Then grew angry. The
berserker
rage comes from our need to be as one, and it cannot ever fully be. Feeling pity, the gods gave man the gift of his use of fire and knowledge of the land. Bear received strength, and sacred lands where they are free to roam.”

“You did know a story.”

“
Ber
and
mannen
were broken, but they were still clever and discovered a way to defeat the gods and their interference.”

“How?”

“Through death the two spirits merge. Bear and man battle, but only one can win.”

“You fought a bear to become
berserker?
”

Osborn pointed to the scar crossing his body. Breena gasped, then traced the path of the scar. Leaned down to kiss it.

“I am one with
ber,
but only through his honorable death. The
berserkergang
is always there, but it’s the pelt that merges us, makes me what you saw in the alley, and why I couldn’t kill the scout here at the lake.”

“You were naked. And that pelt you wear was the bear’s. That’s so sad.”

Osborn raised a brow. “Are you wishing the bear had won? Often they do.”

She shook her head quickly.

“Man can merge with bear, or bear can join with man. It is our way.” Osborn lifted her hand from his chest. “I love your tender heart.”

Her heart slammed into her ribs. Love. He loved her heart. It was a start.

He kissed each one of her fingers. Sucking on the last.

“Yesterday when you were bathing, I heard you gasp. Were you thinking of me, Breena? Were you touching yourself and thinking of me?”

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and willed herself not to blush. Breena could only nod.

A slow satisfied smile spread across his face. “I’d like to watch.”

His request sounded so outrageous, she sputtered.

“Feel how the idea of it gets me.” Osborn took her hand, and placed it on the hard length of his cock.

Moisture gathered between her legs. “You really want to see that?”

“Gods, yes. Here—” he tweaked her nipple “—and here.” His fingers delved into her woman’s heat. “Sit up.”

Breena braced herself off the ground, and Osborn reached for her hips.

“Straddle me.”

Me on top. You on top. You on all fours like the beasts in the woods.

Those words of his had hollowed her. Intrigued her. Made her burn.

Breena lifted herself up onto him, and he grew in length.

“Put me inside.”

There was that weak feeling again. Breena reached for his cock, smooth and hard. She gripped him gently and he groaned. “I wanted you that day as I was bathing,” she told him. “Wanted it to be you touching me.”

“Me, too,” he told her, his body shaking with the need to plunge.

“Watch,” she urged. Now it was her turn to give the orders. Breena positioned the tip of him where their bodies met and sank down his length. Filling her. She
shivered with the exquisite perfect sensation of their joined bodies.

Osborn’s eyes closed on a deep moan, his hands lifted to cup her breasts.

Her breasts heated at his touch, her nipples tightened. She lifted herself high, until he almost left her body, then she slammed back down again. His hips bucked, and he gripped her waist, trying to take control.

“Touch yourself. Like that day,” he told her, his voice raspy and tight. His eyes dark.

Her whole body trembled at his request. Bracing herself on Osborn’s broad shoulders, Breena sat back on her heels, her fingers lowering. She circled her nipples, feeling them pucker even more. Slowly, she let her fingers drift down. Osborn’s heated gaze followed the slow, sensuous path she took. Down over her rib cage, past her stomach, until she met the curls that hid where they joined.

She gasped at the first light touch between her legs.

“Yes,” her lover encouraged, and thrust.

She rubbed herself more forcefully, feeling the crest surge. Her inner muscles clamped down hard on his length. Osborn gripped her hips, keeping her in place as he thrust. Breena’s fingers grew more frantic.

Her nipples tightened, every muscle in her body stretched. Reached for him and what he could give her.

“Harder,” she demanded.

He gripped her tighter, his every movement bringing him deeper inside her body. With a gasp, he drove her over the edge. Crest after crest of sensation poured through Breena. His name came from her lips in a moan.

She felt Osborn’s chest strain and his fingers dig into her skin. In one quick movement, he rolled her onto her
back. Hooking her legs behind his back she drew him closer to her still. Reveled in the feel of his weight over her, his strength pinning her to the ground.

“Yes. Like that,” she encouraged.

He surged inside her, his thrusts deeper. Harder. Every muscle of his body stiffened as his climax hit, and triggered something deep inside her. Tingles of another peak flared, and she held him to her as hard as she could.