3. Chloe

CHLOE

I ’ve lost my damn mind.

I can’t believe I said that out loud.

I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even realize it was a thought in my head until I heard the words spoken. And now, I think my Viking mountain man is going to make it happen.

“I didn’t mean it,” I whisper as he carries me up the stairs of his cabin to what is probably a loft bedroom. “I don’t even know where it came from.”

“You do,” he counters, tossing me onto a bed.

“No, I don’t.” Pressing his knee between my legs, he towers over me, and it’s clear I’m getting nowhere with the man. Although… With his chiselled chest, thick hair, and muscley body, do I want to object? Shaking the thought from my head, I begin to scold myself when he leans forward and grips the waistband of my leggings–the final barrier between us. “Wait!” I shout. He ignores me.

“You meant it. Because like my ancestors, and likely yours, as well, we understand what’s happening between us, and I know for damn certain, you’re what I want.”

His lips crash over mine, and I’m left mindless, feeling the fabric of my pants moving down my legs but helpless to stop the momentum.

How is this happening so fast?

Why am I so accepting of it?

The fact that I’m not running for the hills and risking my life by battling a polar bear to escape is proof that I’ve finally lost my mind.

The kiss is wet but smooth, erotic, and sweet. My heart pounds ruthlessly in my chest as he nips at me and rubs his hand across every inch of my body. This Viking giant is quickly overtaking my sanity.

“Chloe,” he groans as we break apart and gasp in deep lungfuls of air. “I want to devour you.” He sounds pained, but the depths of his eyes scream with passion.

“I need…a minute.” I giggle when he growls but ultimately gives me what I want. Sort of… He doesn’t get off me, but he stops trying to pressure me with those addicting kisses. “I don’t know why I said that.” I’m utterly confused about where my head is at when it comes to Rune.

He remains silent, hands on my hips with his thumbs rubbing soothing circles as I try to figure out what the hell I’m doing.

“This isn’t me,” I finally murmur, tears stinging my eyes and nose. “I’m not careless. I think things through. I analyze and anticipate my actions to death.”

“Maybe that’s why you know this is right. Making a decision won’t matter in the end because we’re happening.” God, he’s so arrogant. “I’m not going to hurt you, Chloe.” His tone becomes softer.

“How do you know the right thing to say?” I whisper, mesmerized by the streaks of tender emotions in his eyes as his lips tilt in a soft smile.

He shrugs. “Tell me more about why you’re here, what exactly you want.”

Taking a deep breath, I begin explaining the project I accepted with a prestigious historical magazine in Europe. In the past year, more and more suspected Viking treasures have been discovered in archeological digs, and they came across what is the alleged birthplace of Erik the Red in Norway.

“So, you want pictures, stories, what?”

I hate that I’ve annoyed him. It was so exciting for me to be contacted about the project. I never once thought about what it would do to Rune.

“If that’s something you’re willing to give me, then yes. If you’re not, it’s fine, too.” I can photograph the land, the town, and the documented places Erik had been and lived. The piece won’t deliver the same punch without Rune’s cooperation, but I’ll manage.

Brushing some stray hair off my face, his expression gives nothing away, and it’s hard to read him.

Holding my breath, he nuzzles my cheek before moving to my ear to whisper, “Have my babies, and I’ll give you anything you want.” My breath catches, and I swallow roughly. He must be joking, but from the way his erection digs against my core, I know he isn’t.

“Uhm, I’m not sure that’s a fair trade-off.”

Brushing my nose with his, Rune’s tongue slips out and licks across my swollen lips. “I think it is because we both know it’s what you want, and from the second I saw you, I had this primitive instinct to make you mine. You sealed your fate when you made your request.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes to mind. Rune makes me second-guess everything I thought I knew about myself. Instead, I say, “My little sister had a baby with a boy she thought would love and be there for them, and he abandoned them both. She went through hell; I can’t do that.”

He appears thoughtful before responding. “I’m sorry she had that experience, but that won’t be ours.”

“How do you know?” I whisper the question, afraid of the answer, afraid to believe him.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I just do. Trust me, little one.” Oh, how I want to.