Chapter 23: 23_Drunken kisses

And then his hand was wrapped around her thigh, lifting it until her knee touched the side of her breast. The position was the most scandalously lewd thing she had ever done and yet there was no shame in sight, only bigger ripples of unending desire. He fell over her and took her lips in a kiss, a deep one that only added to her delight, feeding the growing ball of tightness at her core.

Lost in his kiss, she only realized what would soon happen when she felt him there, pressed against her slippery folds.

Feverishly, he trailed kisses along her jawline. “Lana—”

“Do it…” She held him tightly against her. “Please—”

She broke off on a throaty cry when he delved into her, her body shattering in mind-numbing explosions of bliss. Her entire being throbbed, her head filled with nothing but the hypnotic sensations turning her very bones to liquid heat.

He clutched her against him as he moved, fucking her relentlessly, like his very breath depended on it. The tips of his fingers tightened with every hard thrust, digging into her back. It was the grip of a miser and she was the gold he would rather die than give up. Hearing her erotic moans in his ears, feeling the wet slip of her cunny around his cock as she came around him, all of it was locking him deeper in the dungeon that was his love for her.

His shirt felt like an enemy standing between them and he wanted so badly to rip it off, to feel the slippery smoothness of her skin glide against his, to feel the hard pebbles of her breasts graze his chest. A guttural groan filled his throat, a mixture of frustration and pleasure fuelling his thrusts.

Even in the throes of passion, he found it difficult to remove his clothing, to lay bare before her. The pleasure, the wine and this madness they’d created all had him in a vice-like grip. But regardless of all such, none of them were any match for the strong hold of his old demons.

So, he only gave her as much as his shadows allowed, his past holding him on a leash too short to give her everything. And such misery that caused him because, for Milana, he wanted to give everything.

He wanted to give her himself and all that he was. Even if it brought her repulsion.

*********

By the time Thoran decided it was time for bed, the party was at its peak. The men weren’t always this jolly and he had a clue as to what was causing it. Lo and behold, the life of the party.

In numb shock, he watched her. Princess Amethyst who was a sworn hater of all Barbarians, arm in arm with Jonno and Harald, dancing a jig around the fire.

*“Hooo, the great Barbaaarian!!”* she sang with the men. *“Toss your wives and kill the enemyyyy!”*

“It’s 'Toss your knives… and s-swing a sword wiv me',” Warren corrected, leaning drunkenly on the barrel of alcohol.

But she was too busy to hear his correction, swinging her hands as the choirmaster of the drunken singers. “Come on, Frank, sing!” Frank was fast asleep in his seat, mouth open as he snored.

Gunnar was in shock. “That’s the fourth princess of Gadon.”

With a nod of hesitant acceptance, Thoran glanced at him. “Yes.”

Gunn watched her in unhidden amusement. “How much did you let her drink?”

Confused, Thoran looked back at her as she sang all the wrong words of the Barbarian chant. “She was offered, I refused and it pissed her off. She demanded it then, said she’s a grown woman.”

“Grown woman with a child’s tolerance.”

“And it was just half a bloody cup. She’s not touching alcohol again as long as she’s here.” Thoran was completely baffled. “Clearly, she’s never had a drop, her body can’t handle it.”

There was a low ruckus indicating some disagreement in the crowd. Two of the men were arguing and it was getting violent.

“Now, now, comrades!” Thoran heard Amethyst shout. “No need to fight, there are more amicable ways to resolve your disparities.”

“Oh, God,” he groaned, glancing at Gunnar who was laughing harder than ever before. “It’s not funny, they’re about to swing fists and she’s playing the peace advocate.”

“You don’t know me, Jon!” one of the men was angrily yelling, grabbing his opponent’s collar.

“Hey!” Amethyst shouted, grabbing the man’s collar in turn. “You unhand Jonno right now, you fiend! He’s half your size, bully!”

Jonno blinked drunkenly, distracted by her opinion of his height. “But… I’m a little taller than just h-half, Amie.”

“Focus!” Harald shouted. “He’s got you by the collar!”

“Steel, do something,” Gunnar said.

Completely unbothered, Thoran watched them. His indifference soon vanished.

The big man smacked Amie’s hand off his collar. “Look here, missy—”

“Hey.” The word was calmly spoken but with enough ice to freeze hell over.

The crowd went silent and the angry man looked over, meeting Thoran’s eyes. No more words were spoken but the message was clear.

*Don’t touch her.*

The warning was clear enough for the man to return to his altercation with more reservation, avoiding the girl entirely.

“What?” Amie asked in the silence, glancing cluelessly around. “What is it?”

“Steel might break someone in two, that’s what,” said Harald, making the others stifle their laughter as the fight quickly dissipated for fear of provoking the real fighters.

“Oh, that’s what I thought!” Jonno spat once he felt safe. “Retreat!”

The man spun back around with a growl and Jonno was snatched up by the collar.

“Woah!” Amie stumbled in the crowd, caught by Harald who was already cheering on the fight. Set onto her feet, she immediately pulled out her imaginary advocate’s wig. “This is not the way, gentlemen! Let us seek a more harmonious method of finding reconciliation!”

In the bustle of bodies, a hand grabbed her and tugged until she was out of the chaos she’d been trying to control.

Suddenly out in the open, she looked about in confusion. Her gaze shot up to the face before her and she gasped. “Mr. Barbarian! Fancy seeing you in these parts!”

Thoran stared down at her with a concrete expression. “Time for bed, poppet.”

The words made her pout. “Really? But you’ve only just arrived. Well, it can’t be helped. Goodnight to you!”

Gunn had his mouth buried in his hand, shaking with eye-watering bouts of laughter.

Thoran spared him a single glare and then turned back to Amethyst and the bright smile she was giving him. He sighed. “Not for me. You.”

She only had a second to process the words before he was tugging her toward her tent.

“What? But why? I’ve made so many good friends!”

“No princess needs Barbarians as friends,” he told her. Especially not Barbarians who would soon be turning her kingdom into a desolate land, he thought.

“I do!” she countered. “They’re my best friends and you’re just jealous.”

“Right.” Nodding, he pulled her into her tent. “Come along.”

Grumbling her displeasure, she allowed him to pull her toward the bed.

“Oh, no,” he heard her whimper behind him. “So dark.”

Throwing back the covers, Thoran turned to her. “Get in.”

She blinked and then looked at him like she’d forgotten he was there. “Oh! Briggs?! What are you doing here? Have you tended to my horse? Mother says I can’t ride him if he isn’t well groomed.”

He stared flatly at her. “Must you always mistake me for your damned servants?”

Squinting, she stood on her tippy toes to peer at his face. “Pray tell, who are you?”

“Thoran Steel.”

With a gasp, she jerked away. “Thoran Steel? My worst enemy has the same name! Oh, to share a name with a cutthroat, how horrible. You poor dear.”

With an exasperated sigh, he took her elbow and guided her into the bed. “God’s truth, you’re a pain.”

She gripped his arm, her eyes wide and dazed. “Pain…? I knew pain once...”

“Oh, God.”

“I spent each day coddled in its icy embrace. Pain was my company at every minute of the day. But then…” Her face suddenly lit up with a giant grin. “My baby came along!” She clutched the gem around her neck. “Now I’m all better.”

With a raised brow, he glanced at her necklace. “Oh, yeah? How did your… baby make it better?”

Sitting up, she scooted closer to him to whisper. “It’s a magic gem. Keeps me alive, y’see.”

“Alive?”

“Yes! Must I repeat everything I say?” She sighed. “If I’m away from this gem for too long, I’ll die.”

He gaped at her, torn between believing her and blaming the alcohol for her ramblings. “Surely not.”

She nodded. “It’s true!”

After a moment, he remembered the way she’d collapsed in his arms only for him to find her necklace stuck against the carriage. A long exhale parted his lips and he sunk onto her bed.

Unbelievable. So, it didn’t just keep her safe, then. It didn’t just give her strength either. He glanced at the gem she was fondly blowing kisses at. It kept her *alive?!*

And with such a handicap, she believed she could *fight* him? She believed she could venture from home without a care in the world? A ripple of anger suddenly ran through him. How foolish of her. Did she have no regard for her own safety?

He turned away. “Get some sleep.” Her hand grabbed his arm before he could get up and he looked back at her. “What now?”

She pouted. “My goodnight kiss, William. Where’s my goodnight kiss?”

His expression went flat with shock. Goodnight kiss? And who the hell was William?