Delectably Undone! by Elizabeth Rolls

kissed Clár. There was no reason to humiliate herself, not when it would never happen. Best to pretend it was of no importance.
    Gunnar released her hands, but she didn’t move. He leaned in so that his mouth rested against her ear. “I don’t believe you.”
    A chill rose upon her flesh, a tightness at the lie. His fingers moved lightly up her back, and an almost violent tremble poured through her. He was so close, she could smell the light scent of oak and wood ashes upon his skin.
    She didn’t dare move, terrified he would stop. Within his posture, she sensed a mixture of interest and shielded anger at himself. It took everything she had to take a step away from him. “I’m going back now. And I think you should return to Clár.”
    But he took her hands and trapped them against her own waist. She could feel his warm breath against her mouth.
    “What are you doing, Gunnar?” she breathed.
    “Damned if I know.”

    There was hesitation in Auder’s eyes and a shocked awareness. Though there were a hundred thousand reasons why Gunnar shouldn’t kiss her, the doubts about Clár were growing darker. He liked the widow, but before he made any commitment to her, he needed to know if he was making a mistake. If perhaps, there should have been something more.
    Auder’s gentle brush of lips lingered with him still. It had haunted him last night, and perhaps kissing her again would end all of the forbidden thoughts. It might solidify his decision to choose Clár and settle for a quiet, pleasant handfasting.
    He slid his palms upon her nape. Strands of her hair had fallen about her face, despite the braids pulling it away from her cheeks. When he bent his mouth to hers, she caught her breath, their lips merging in softness. He nipped at her upper lip, coaxing her to open more.
    She faltered at first, as though uncertain of what he wanted. But then, when he kissed her harder, she melted into him, her hips seeking his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as though she needed him to keep her balance. The softness of her breasts pressed into his tunic, and he couldn’t stop the roar of desire that awakened.
    She had an instinct of what to do, and as he deepened the kiss, her tongue slipped against his. “That’s right,” he encouraged her, threading his own tongue with hers.
    Sleek and wet, she let him invade her mouth, kissing him back as though he were the only man left in the world. There was an eagerness, a willingness to please, that made him forget all the reasons he was courting Clár. His hands moved down Auder’s back, over her taut bottom. He kissed her until his mouth grew numb, until he caught himself rubbing his shaft against her, needing to satiate the rigid lust.
    Gunnar let go, jerking away as though she’d caught fire. Auder’s breathing was unsteady, her shoulders trembling. Her hair hung over one shoulder, against the breasts he wanted to touch. He wanted to peel off her gown, to expose her skin and watch the nipples pebble in the wind. To take the tight buds into his mouth, making her moan with the same lust he was feeling right now.
    God help him, he needed to cease this madness.
    “Was that…a real kiss?” she ventured. She clenched her waist as though trying to hold herself together.
    “I’m sorry.” He strode past her, to the exit of the souterrain, furious at himself for starting this. He’d been caught up by her innocence and the way she’d responded to him. If he hadn’t stopped himself, he’d have taken her right here, claiming her with his body.
    Gunnar didn’t look back, for his thoughts were in complete disarray. He wished he’d never kissed Auder, for it had only driven home what he’d already suspected.
    It couldn’t be Clár. Not anymore.
    The light at the edge of the souterrain was shielded by the underbrush. The sound of voices outside caught his attention, and Gunnar’s hand went to the battleaxe at his waist.
    Without warning, the branches moved, and men charged inside