The Valkyrie's Guardian (19 page)

Her throat tightened and her heart clenched. Tears burned her eyes, and she had never felt so humbled. A part of her rejoiced — she'd dreamed of being loved this way — while another part couldn't bear Jack's misery. She turned and straddled his lap to take the strain off his injured leg. She brushed her hands over his face and smoothed his hair. He leaned into her hand, nuzzling like a tiger in a playful mood.

Cassie reassured him with her own honest emotions, soothing him with impressions of acceptance, telling him she loved him back. His head smacked the wall as he leaned back, his frame too big for the hospital bed. She let him settle in then kissed him hard, holding him hostage with her grip on his dog tags, greedily taking her fill before reason burned through the anesthetic and he pushed her away. Any moment now …

It only took a few seconds until she understood that Jack had always exercised herculean restraint with her before, because let out of his cage, he was wild, rough, and … pleasantly lascivious, she decided. He kissed the same way he fought, full throttle, without mercy. She could hardly breathe, her mind screamed with both alarm and pleasure, and still he ravished her with indecent kisses. He sucked on her tongue, he bit down hard on her bottom lip, and he rolled his hips against her in the same rhythm he stroked his lips over hers.

His hands were impatient to find her skin — she didn't like that boring Navy-issued T-shirt anyway. He kneaded along her sides, alternately squeezing and rubbing handfuls the way a cat flexes its paws. She'd never been so warm, so utterly content, until he bent his good knee and pulled her on top of him, tangling their legs. That was even better.

The sandwich slid under her his shoulder, and Cassie tossed the squashed wrapper onto the counter. He lifted his head and nipped her throat, a predatory gesture made all the more feline as he laved it with the tip of his tongue. He pinned her arms behind her back and arched her toward him, catching the sensitive skin at the juncture of her shoulder and neck between his teeth. Working her over with his wicked mouth from her chin to her waist, he woke a zinging, electric pleasure that hypnotized her. Then she tried to wriggle free, but he held her trapped. Trussed and vulnerable. He was getting her riled with his stubborn show of dominance. Alpha male. She finally understood the game — he wanted a fight. She twisted and yanked against his grip, and the feistier she acted, the more pleased he became.

'S math sin, eudail
,
he crooned, lifting her to slide across his lap. He pulled her head down to kiss again, in rhythm with his hips. She figured she only had moments left, if he could already form sentences. English would come next, followed by his conscience.

Cum ort a' dol
.

She understood universal encouragement.

Jack hummed in her ear then gasped when she pressed against him. He lifted her again, tensing as she propped her hands over his pecs and slid down, dragging her mouth from his neck to his navel as he'd done to her. His helpless groan was the most erotic sound she could imagine. His heart hammered, his fingers trailed fire over her skin, they both panted for breath like they'd run up a mountain full speed. All he had to do was press his lips to hers, and the muscles low in her belly radiated exhilaration that rang in the top of her head and tickled up and down her spine.

His aggression kicked up a level, and his erotic game turned more into a fight. He wrestled her for the position on top, and she squirmed out of his grip and wrapped herself around him, locking her legs over his back. He grunted and kissed her hard, punishing her. She argued back and stole control of the kiss. He liked that she gripped his head by the roots of his hair and took what she wanted.

His mouth never released hers, even as she jabbed her elbows free and raked her nails down his chest. He tossed her to the side and they grappled, each trying to pin the other on their backs. The bed creaked in protest, slamming against the wall. Electrical currents she couldn't control shorted out the equipment and tripped alarms on other devices. It occurred to Cassie she might have exhibitionist tendencies, because she fully intended to have her way with Jack right here in the clinic recovery room and to hell with anyone who had a problem with that.

Jack shouted in triumph as he finally wrestled her shoulders to the mattress. He covered her body with his and locked his ankles with hers to keep her from fighting back. She snarled, pretending to be livid, and he growled back, wrenching her arms above her head in an iron grip. Cassie laughed and arched against him, and he mirrored the movement as he rested his forehead on hers and made a purring sound in his throat.

Cassie giggled like an idiot, delighted beyond words. His heated kisses, his breath, his body all conformed to a slow thrumming rhythm. The same war drums pulsed in her blood. He buried his nose in her neck, dragged deep breaths then tasted her skin. Whatever he sensed there spurred him on. She understood why he seemed intent on licking her neck like the last bit of syrup on a dessert plate when
his
skin started giving off the most maddening scent. She followed it to the hollow between his ear and jaw — a nutty wild mint mixed with a dark woodsy musk. A flavor like nutmeg, with an addicting note of salty citrus.
So good
. Craving swirled around in her head, a roaring hunger. Jack hummed against her shoulder and braised her there with his teeth.

The rhythm grew savage, furious, and suddenly it was decision time. She felt so
alive
with a hundred sensations. Compulsions battled for satiation, her mood swinging from dark and greedy to sweet reverence. The only way out was through it, or so it seemed. Her conscience lurked far behind everything else she felt, but a niggling thought reminded her that Jack was not accountable at the moment, and she was technically taking advantage. Manipulating him.

It was time to either stop or go through with it.

Mas e do thoil e, eudail,
he begged. His sexy crackled-caramel voice stroked her from the inside out, made her eyes close at the pleasure of the sound. She was guilted into releasing him, somehow. He sounded so sincere, so tender, she couldn't stand it.

Cassiopeia.
Jack didn't seem delusional, only earnest. He stilled and she rested under him, breathing hard and watching his eyes spark green fire. He looked around the room, then his free hand darted to the tray on the counter and closed over a scalpel. He turned her hand over and pressed it to his heart. He made a shallow cut above his wrist and paused with the blade poised over the inside of her hers.

It took a moment, but then she got it. A traditional hand-fasting ceremony. She tried to not gape in bewilderment as she realized he meant to marry her, before he made love to her. It was archaic. Definitely romantic. Slightly barbaric, but then, what about the past minutes was civilized? She'd always known who he was, accepted his heritage. Why not take the whole package?

Cassie nodded her consent and watched his expression as he held their wrists together, mixing their blood. Their opposite hands crossed to rest over the other's heart. Jack muttered ceremonial words in Gaelic, they had a musical lilt, and Jack spoke them like they stuck in his throat. She thought he might weep again. He waited, and she was glad she'd memorized the lines, because he expected her to say them back. He corrected her once and smiled, and it stopped her heart. She knew he was satisfied when he exhaled in silent laughter and crushed her against his chest.

Tha gaol mo chridhe agam ort-sa, Cassie.

Her heart clenched, she would know that tone of voice anywhere.
I love you too, Jack.

It was the point of no return, and seconds later neither were virgins anymore. It happened with that slow-motion stretching of time that hiked her senses into overdrive. Somehow Jack had calmed from the frenzy that drove them both to near-violence before. He rocked her slowly, caging her protectively with his shoulders. He locked gazes with her, and she couldn't look away from his kaleidoscope green eyes, burning a bright iridescent color she'd never seen before. He took her hands and laced his fingers between hers, his manner more serious than she'd ever seen him.

She was glad their first time was slow and sweet. Without her senses in a tangle, her mind had room to think about what mattered; the devotion he didn't hide from her, the ultra-sexy sight of him carefully restraining his strength, the slow escalation of pleasure building in her core. Cassie stroked her legs over the backs of his, enjoying the way he squirmed when she teased the sensitive nerves behind his knee. She freed her hands and tousled his hair, making sure he understood she was happy, that it felt good.

Sublime,
she breathed as her eyes dropped closed.

Ceart,
he answered in the same tone. Why couldn't he speak English yet? She'd expected him to jolt awake from his trance long ago, instead he seemed to have drawn her into the dream with him.

Cassie bit her lip and swallowed a moan, loving the feel of his hair-dusted chest rubbing over hers, the gentle rasp of his whiskers grazing her cheek. She urged him harder, faster, and impossibly the bittersweet tension spun into minutes, hours — who knew? Time had stretched again, drawing each second into infinity.

Ceart, eudail.
He ground her into the mattress and ordered,
Siuthad.

Her body obeyed. Her back arched, her fingers raked down his arms, and she shouted his name as electric rapture seized her entire being. The moment suspended, throbbed through her core, traveled up and down her spine, tingled at the tips of her fingers and curled her toes. Her vision darkened and she nearly fell unconscious under the consuming pulse.

The most beautiful sight she'd ever seen was Jack baring his teeth, his muscles plumped and straining while his lips chanted her name like a prayer. He lost control. He threw his head back and suffered silently while she clung to his shoulders and locked her legs over his flanks, riding out the storm.

It took long minutes for him to quit shaking. The tension leached from his muscles slowly. He dropped his head to rest on her chest and let his arms fall over the sides of the bed. He mumbled soft phrases over and over, it sounded like he soothed her, making tender promises he would never say if he weren't in such a state. His skin heated hers, his pulse calmed in tempo with hers.

She grazed her fingers over his back, sliding over sweat-slicked ridges and lines. His back was beautiful too, she decided, thinking the deep ridge down the center flanked by symmetrical muscle made a very masculine, sensuous silhouette. She toyed with the twin dimples in the small of his back, then traced the shape of his backside. Tight and muscular like the rest of him. He twitched when she rubbed the indentation joining his hip to his waist, and when he did it again, she figured he was ticklish there. Good to know, for future reference.

Still her womb throbbed and burned, and she became aware of an unnatural warmth, even hotter than the contact of Jack's skin made hers. Still after he rolled to the side and tucked her into his arms, her insides radiated with what felt like chemical heat.

Oh, wow. She knew why. Of course.

Jack dozed with his face buried in her hair, his breath superhumanly slow and deep, the way she imagined a giant would sleep. His heart beat against hers in languid, strong strokes. The simple contentedness floating from his thoughts made her fall in love with him all over again. He was so happy.

And now he would be a father.

She could feel it, the warmth spreading deep in her loins. A growing dull ache like a mild cramp.
No known contraceptive works for a berserker.

How could she have forgotten?

Did he?

No one bothered them. Cassie lay silently, turning the situation over in her head. She was pretty sure she'd just married Jack. At least he'd believed it was a done deal. She expected there was a 150-percent chance she'd just gotten pregnant, and couldn't discover an ounce of regret over it. Anxiety: in spades.

Cassie listened awhile and decided Jack's vitals had slowed too much. He was drained of energy, still recuperating. His body had needed calories desperately before this episode; no doubt he'd be in danger soon without a sumo-sized meal. She'd have to do better than a deli sandwich.

She had to pinch him in a way that was just plain mean to get him to wake up. Even that didn't spoil his mood. His eyelids were too heavy to lift, and she laughed as he struggled to keep them open. That breathtaking lazy smile spread over his lips, and she indulged in one more kiss before turning into a drill sergeant.

“Jack, wake up!”
She propped her head on her elbow and teased, “Since I squished your sub sandwich, can we call it a panini and you'll still eat it?”

He chuckled and rolled onto his side. His eyes lowered then widened as he took in her bare breasts. He gazed lower and registered she was stark naked, lying in bed with him. Jack shouted a curse she had never heard him utter before, and he shot up out of bed. He smacked his head on the cupboards and nearly passed out. She scrambled to catch him under the armpits and set him back on the bed. He winced as she tossed the wrapped sandwich into his lap.

She ordered, “Eat,” the same moment he blurted, “What in
nine hells
just happened?”

Cassie bit her tongue and stared him down, trying to judge his condition. That he spoke English and had the presence of mind to slam his mindshield into place indicated he was finally lucid. Meaning … he hadn't been before?

He scrubbed his face with his hands, the stubble on his jaw
shushing
like sandpaper. A cautious, weary look settled in his expression. His eyes shone their normal shade of hazel green. The Jack who woke a moment ago was not the same Jack who fell asleep.

Oh,
no
. Bloody hell, she was in big trouble. “Why don't you eat the sandwich, and then we'll talk.”