The Chieftain’s Bride
by Kate Hill
Format(s): Ebook
Heat Level: Spicy
Pairing(s): M/F
Genre/Themes: Viking Historical
Length: Novel
Publisher: New Concepts Publishing
Cover Art: Eliza Black
ISBN: 1-58608-525-5
Purchase Links: New Concepts Publishing / All Romance Ebooks / Amazon (Kindle)
Related Books or Books Set in the Same Universe: The Mad Knight’s Bride, The Horse Tamer’s Bride
Blurb:
Marion of Ravenhill was a pawn in a warrior’s world, promised to the Viking raider, Wyborn, for his fierce protection of the British shoreline. She vowed he would never have her heart, but from the moment they meet, the attraction between them is nearly overwhelming.
The following excerpt from THE CHIEFTAIN’S BRIDE is for readers 18 and over.
“Wyborn, put me down!” Marion punched his back. “This is humiliating!”
“Humiliating is having your own wife wager that some other man will outfight you. Humiliating is having food thrown at your feet and a dagger thrust at your belly, then having a puny wench spit in your face! Punch me in the back one more time and I’ll drop you in the horse trough. How’s that for humiliating?”
Immediately Marion went still, tears of frustration burning her eyes. She thought of dozens of horrible ways to repay him for this lack of respect.
He carried her all the way through the village where nearly everyone they passed stop working to gawk at the unbelievable sight of the Lady Marion slung like a bag of grain over Wyborn’s shoulder. Her teeth jarred with each of his angry steps through the great hall and up the stairs. Wyborn threw open his door, kicked it shut behind him, and dropped her hard on the bed.
“You arrogant, obnoxious bull!” She flew at him, her fingers curved into claws ready to scratch the flesh from his face.
He caught her hands and shoved her onto the pillows.
“Don’t move!” he bellowed, pointing a finger in her face.
She slapped his hand away, but remained seated, swallowing the lump of fury in her throat and swiping at the moisture trickling from the corners of her eyes. Damn him!
Wyborn walked to the table and poured water from a pitcher into a bowl. He washed the blood from his face and rinsed his mouth.
“Whatever possessed you to do that to me, Marion? Have I not been fair with you? Have I disrespected you?”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad I lost the wager!”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t give a damn what you believe! All I know is that it took this much for me to get an emotion out of you, you unfeeling bastard!”
“I told you before. I am not a–“
“I know! I know! Your father was chieftain before you and your parents were married in the eyes of the law!” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “What I mean is, at least I provoked some kind of feeling from you. Anger. Wonderful. You don’t care if I sleep with other men, you probably have slept with every woman in the village already, but at least I can make you angry!”
“What are you talking about, madwoman?” He narrowed his eyes and gestured wildly with his hands. Hair hung in matted tendrils about his face. His shirt was molded with sweat to his powerful torso and his chest rose and fell with furious breathing. To Marion, he had never looked more desirable. It amazed her how one man could destroy her sanity and her entire life!
She stood, her arms folded beneath her breasts and more tears threatening to spill. “I mean feelings, Wyborn! Have you got any beneath all that leather and steel? Is a chieftain allowed to feel anything at all?”
“I thought I’ve made it clear how I feel about you.” His voice returned to its usual calm, and that made her even more furious.
“No you have not! You’re always so collected, so disinterested, like a winter that never thaws! Do you even know what it is to feel for a woman? I’d love to know what you feel about me.”
“You want to know what I feel about you?” His sapphire eyes sparkled with anger and … something else?
“Yes, I want to know!”
“Fine!” In two long strides, he pulled her into his arms, his mouth covering hers. His kiss was rough at first, a release of pent up desire and frustration, then it softened. His tongue traced the delicate shape of her mouth and parted her lips. Instinctively, her tongue met his with long, sweeping strokes. Never had Marion felt anything so wonderful as this kiss. It excited her yet stole the strength from her legs. Her stomach tightened and her feminine parts ached in a manner she had never before experienced. She reached up and tightened her fingers in the damp hair at his nape. His palms slid up her back, warming and caressing her.
He drew back slowly.
“That’s a start,” Marion whispered, breathless from the kiss.
“It’s something I plan on finishing.” His gaze held hers with desire and tenderness combined.
No longer did she intend to fight him. This man was hers and it was long past time she claimed him. He swept her into his arms and she took his face in her hands and kissed him even more deeply than he’d kissed her. Tenderly, he placed her on the bed and lay beside her.
Marion’s hands sifted through his coarse hair. He loomed above her. His chest, a hot mass of breathing sinew beneath his damp shirt, pressed sensually to her breasts. His mouth plundered hers, and her tongue boldly met his in sensual battle. She detected the salty, metallic taste of blood where Derek had struck him and felt a pang of guilt as she remembered her part in provoking that silly fight. How could she have thought such a match could be amusing? How could she have bet against Wyborn? His arrogance had frustrated her so much that she had done everything in her power to challenge him when what she really wanted was to throw herself in his arms and make love to every inch of his magnificent body. Not only that, she’d wanted him to desire her just as much. The moment he’d kissed her, she knew that he did feel passion for her. All the childish fear she had of him disappeared in a lusty haze.
He moved his lips from hers only to leave a trail of kisses down her cheek and throat and finally bury his face in her shoulder. His lashes tickled her flesh while he licked and nipped the sensitive place just above her collarbone.
The need to close her eyes battled with the desire to look at him every moment she could. Need won when his hands moved to her breasts, tracing them lightly at first, his thumbs teasing her nipples through the coarse fabric. She reached for his shirt and tugged it upwards, her hands seeking his bare flesh. A sensual, masculine chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Her hands glided over his shoulders and back, savoring the hard muscles beneath sweat-dampened skin. Splaying her palms across his chest, she relished the sensation of the hair roughening his warm flesh. Her fingertips traced the ridges of old scars, then slid downward, pressing soft kisses across his breastbone and over his ribs. He unwound her hair from its braid and slid his fingers through the dark, silken tendrils that hung almost to her waist. “So beautiful.”
“Not like a rat?” Her voice was a husky, teasing whisper.
Brushing her lower lip with his thumb, he smiled slightly and shook his head. “I was angry when I said that.”
“I know.” Again she kissed him. He slid her dress up to her waist, but she placed her hands over his wrists. Suddenly she felt stupid, ignorant. “Wyborn. I’ve never been with a man before. Raynor and I didn’t…”
“I know. In his messages to me, he never came out and said it, but I understood.”
She wasn’t sure if she was angry or relieved. “So the two of you bartered over me like I was a horse? I was a better prize for you if I was a virgin?”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I don’t care what you are, Marion. All I know is from the moment I saw you, I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman. You’re like a fever, all consuming and unquenchable, but as I said before, I don’t want this unless you do. If you’re not ready…”
The hardness of his legs against hers and the warmth of his bare chest beneath her hands thrilled her so much that the last thing she wanted was to stop touching him. “No, I’m ready. I just don’t want to be a disappointment.”
“Neither do I. You’re so small and soft, but full of passion and heat, like a candle flame. I want to please you.”
Shocked by his answer, she longed to offer him words of comfort so that they could continue what they’d already postponed for too long. She took his face in her hands and held his gaze. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Tenderly, he kissed her before tugging off her soft leather boots and slipping her dress over her head. She lay beside him, feeling flushed more from impending desire than inhibition. Her hair covered her shoulders and breasts like a veil. Gazing at her, his eyes darkened with lust.
She nodded toward his breeches. “I’m waiting, chieftain.”
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