Staring at the ceiling,I know he’s just a few feet away in the living room, but I feel as if he’s right here, sitting next to my bed and watching me. Mainly just because I can’t get his words out of my head.
I’ve always wanted you.
He’s saying it, but the words don’t mean anything, not anymore. There needs to be actions to back them up, and even then, it’s too late. It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters. Not a single thing. I’ve agreed to this wedding.
It’s happening in a month.
It’s happening.
Rolling onto my side, I tuck my hands beneath my pillow as I stare at the door, wondering what tomorrow is going to bring. I don’t know what the hell is going to happen, but it won’t be happening with Viking the way I always dreamed.
A stupid dream.
A frivolous dream.
Pinching my eyes closed, I try to force myself to fall asleep. It doesn’t work. My brain keeps spinning, and then I hear a noise. My eyes pop open, and instantly I see him. He’s there, standing in the doorway, the low light from somewhere in the house illuminating him
Viking looks like a god standing there. So tall that he stands like a gigantic pine tree, taking up my entire doorway, and it seems like he might even have to bend just to walk into the room. Short hair, sparkling blue eyes, and muscles. My god, the muscles. So many muscles.
Pushing up slightly, I rest on my elbow. My eyes search his, they look deep into his own, and I press my lips together, trying not to speak. He takes one step forward, then another. He stares at me wordlessly, then, when he reaches my side, he reaches out.
His index finger extends and slides down my jawline, then back up before he tucks my hair behind my ear. My breath hitches. Every single hair on my body stands at attention as goose bumps break out over my entire body.
“Viking,” I exhale.
“Gunnar,” he grunts in response.
Gunnar.
God, what a sexy name.
I start to push my body up so I can sit, but he doesn’t let me. He presses his fingers against my shoulder so I can’t push up farther, then he tugs the sheets and comforter from my body.
Unlike when I was at Paul’s, I have my pajamas on—a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. Although, like at Paul’s, I’m not wearing a bra or panties. Gunnar climbs onto the bed, hovering over me, his blue gaze focusing on mine.
I watch him in silence, waiting for whatever is going to happen next. I’ve never been so nervous and excited in my entire life. He tilts his head to the side, his face shifting closer, and thenI feel his lips touch mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss. Instead, he speaks, his lips touching mine with every single word he says.
“You have one month until you leave us. Have me for that month.”
“Have you?” I ask softly.
He grunts, his lips touching mine in a brief kiss. “Have me, babe. I’ve always wanted you, but betraying Piggy was never worth the risk. I love my brothers, my brotherhood.”
I almost tell him if he loves them so much, it must mean he can’t love me at all. At least to his rationale, it must mean that, and that hurts. Because every girl wants the fairy tale. Every single girl wants to be loved more than anything in the world.
But I don’t say anything.
I can’t.
Not only because his lips are touching mine, but also because I can’t think of any rational thought while said lips are touching mine. And a snarky, smart-assed thought? Forget about it completely.
His mouth shifts from mine, slowly traveling down my throat, stopping in the middle before he sucks on the hollow there. My eyes close, my head falls back, my neck arches, and at the same time, my back does.
I want his mouth everywhere. I almost pinch myself to see if this is a dream. It must be. There’s no way this is real. It cannot be. Then I feel his fingers slide along the waistband of my sleep shorts before he hooks his finger in them and tugs.
Lifting my hips, I allow him to take them off, even reaching down to help. But as his mouth continues down the center of my chest, past my breasts, I can’t help but freeze at the thought of his mouth between my legs.
I grip his biceps, my nails digging into the flesh slightly. He lifts his head, those sparkling blue eyes meeting mine. I shake my head, trying to think of what to say or how to say it.