Author's Note: Be warned. This here chapter has sexual content. Spare thine eyes!

"I thought I might find ye here." Bjorn's voice sliced through the twittering birds and babbling brook.

Sacha gasped and dipped her shoulders below the water's surface, hoping to hide her nudity from him. Her face burned from embarrassment, and she gave him her back to splash her cheeks, expecting to hear a sizzle.

"I needed to bathe." She gritted her teeth at the obviousness of her words. Soap and a drying cloth lay beside the burgundy dress draped across the rock upon which he rested his ass.

"Want me to join ye?" His voice darkened, and she raised her gaze to meet his but squinted into the blinding sunlight.

"Why? I...I haven't seen any frogs."

He yanked off his tunic, tossing it on top of her dress. When he bent to tug off his boots, the reality of his intentions stiffened her shoulders, and she lurched back, almost flashing her breasts.

"What are ye doing?" Her voice came out in a whisper, strangled by her shock and nervousness. Her heart thudded, and in her imagination, the ripples on the surface of the pool were a reflection of that. They weren't children, able to play naked. He had to know that!

"Joining ye." He unbuttoned his breeches and peeled them down.

"Don't ye dare, Bjorn Hlodvirsson!" Her warning fell on deaf ears.

She struggled to swallow and couldn't lower her gaze from the man before her. His wide shoulders that she admired too often crested an impressive chest, hardened with muscle, then tapered to his narrow hips and his...manhood. He was stiff, as if he wanted to—

"Bjorn!" She rose out of the water to stop him, almost exposing herself.

He laughed as he picked his way across the rocky bank before dipping a toe into the cold water. "Quit being such a lassie. This isn't the first time we swam naked."

"Aye, but we were so young. It didn't matter then."

He paused in a pool of sunlight, which glistened off his sculpted thighs, but she refused to blink, to look away, disbelieving he would wade into the water.

"Ye have the right of it, Sacha, leannan. It matters now."

Her shoulders slumped with relief, and she offered a tentative smile despite his term of endearment, pleased he saw things her way and would leave.

He sucked in a sharp breath and dove in.

She squealed and lunged backward, hoping to make it to the other side before he surfaced. Warm fingers wrapping around her ankle was the only warning. With a yank, she went under, swallowing a little water. She spluttered as soon as she broke the surface, with her hair hindering her ability to see.

"Drowned rat." His teasing voice was too close for comfort, along with his warm arm against hers.

Flicking her hair from her eyes, she glared at him. "Are ye insane? What if someone saw ye keeping company with the village witch?" Rivulets rolled off his broad shoulders, and she lowered herself until her chin touched the water.

"Och, Katla is the witch, not ye, sweet Sacha."

She swallowed water again when he splashed her. Screaming, she tilted her head to wet her hair and clear her vision before cupping her hand on the surface, preparing to drench him. He laughed and closed the distance between them, circling her shoulders with his arms. This close, she couldn't spray him, couldn't retaliate. She squirmed, but he didn't release her.

"Bjorn?" Squinting at him, she froze, not understanding the stillness of his features, his narrow gaze, and his parted lips. "What's got into ye?"

"Ye ask as if ye don't know." He cupped her face, and between the cold water and his heated touch, she shivered.

"Is someone sick?" She gasped, as a horrifying thought slithered through her mind. "Dying?"

"I will ask my da to handfast with ye at this evening's feast."

She squeaked and splayed her fingers across his chest, peering into his eyes to read his expressions. Flutters consumed her, and her heart skipped beats. What he was saying made no sense. Handfasting with her was foolish, with the way the villagers hated her. He yanked her against him, trapping her within his embrace. Her nipples tightened, and a familiar uncoiling of fire stirred in her core.

He was so warm, solid, and for an unknown reason, his hard edges against her curves stole her breath.

"Handfast?" It meant leaving Da. She couldn't do that to him. He would die if she abandoned him. "Bjorn, are ye jesting?"

He growled and slanted his mouth across hers.

The heat of his lips met the coiled fire from her belly, but she couldn't breathe with the scent of his skin overwhelming her. When she tried to talk to him, he thrust his tongue into her mouth.

She shoved at it which made him moan. He released her face to slide his hands over her shoulders and down her back. Something intense warmed her belly and started a soft, drumming pressure between her legs. He gripped her ass and lifted her, crushing her against him, and that drumming merged into a pounding, demanding need.

She stopped trying to push his tongue out. Instead, she wrapped her tongue around his, tugging on it and savoring the unique texture, the strange flavor, and the effect it had on her.

He pulled away first, but only far enough to brush his lips along her jaw.

"I've wanted to do that for a score of seasons, Sacha."

"What? Try to smother me?" She arched into him, searching for his warmth, enjoying the feel of his hands massaging where they touched. He didn't seem to mind her nudity.

Leaning back, he blessed her with a sweet smile. "Can ye see yerself in my arms, alongside me, raising my bairns?"

She blinked at him, stunned at his sincerity. "My da—"

"Will be well cared for."

Joy spread through her like the first warm rays of dawn. She buried her face in the curve of his neck and hugged him. "Aye." The memory of Katla's mottled face ruined the moment, sparking a dark wave of fear. "Will Chief Orn grant ye permission? I'm...scorned."

"Ye wouldn't harm anyone or anything, Sacha. It's why I killed those hares. If I hadn't, ye would have two extra mouths to feed." He captured her lips for a brief kiss. "No one who knows ye believes her lies." Sliding his hand down her arm, he caught her fingers and tugged her to the bank. "Come, ye're freezing."

Shyness gripped her, and she stiffened. Naked in water was preferable to exposing herself in the light of day. He didn't notice, pulling her behind him. His bare ass snared her attention as he emerged first. Releasing her hand, he spread out her toweling cloth and gestured to her to lie down. She frowned.

"The sun will warm and dry ye."

She waded out of the water, aware of every hint of warmth from the sunlight, and his groaning reaction to seeing her, as if this was new for him. She tossed him a puzzled expression before sprawling onto the cloth. He lay on his side, splaying his fingers across her belly.

"Ye're beautiful, Sacha." Dipping his head, he captured her lips again, and this time, she didn't fight him but opened to him like the blossoms of early spring. He stroked her belly as he deepened the kiss, his fingers distracting her from what his lips were doing.

Until they brushed between her legs, and she gasped, gripping his hand to hold him still. His touch had felt good, sparking an intense pounding need.

"What are ye doing?" She was torn between letting him touch her and running away from these new sensations he was thrusting upon her.

He smiled and plucked her lips with his. "Trust me, Sacha."

She nodded, and he pulled his hand away, trailing a new path up her belly to her chest. A gasp tore from her when he thumbed a taut nipple. It puckered, and tingles circled outward. She moaned under his continued torment, unable to lie still.

He stopped and rested his hand on her belly again. She released a shuddering sigh, staring at a man she didn't know. How could he have kept his from her? Why not share such joy with her?

"I have loved ye for so long." His words puffed air across her skin, and she didn't know what to focus on. He loved her? Her heart unraveled, and the coiling sensations inside her intensified. Her eyes widened, as she watched in amazement when he wrapped his tongue around her nipple and sucked it deep into his mouth.

Crying out, she arched, with one hand digging into the toweling cloth and the other gripping his hip. On the peripheral of her senses, she registered his fingers brushing between her legs. Heat burst outward when he deepened his touch. She whimpered, confused, overwhelmed, and needing, yearning for something she didn't know and couldn't name.

"Sacha." His hoarse voice drew her gaze. Pain flitted across his handsome features. She released the cloth to cup his cheek, parting her lips to speak words she hadn't formed in her mind yet.

He flicked his fingers and bright joy tore from her legs to her core to her breasts to her mouth, and his name tumbled from her lips.

A shudder shook him, but she couldn't soothe him, not when her hips rose to meet his touch, not when she swirled to mimic his tormenting fingers, not when something dark, delicious, and so good built inside her.

"Bjorn, please." She begged him, not knowing for what.

Then she was falling, diving off a cliff, and plunging into the sweet cool depths of an ocean of pleasure. He sprawled across her, crushing her under him and something hard nestled between her thighs. It too felt good, like a continuation of what he started.

She smiled and snuggled into him, ready for more, but the fiery burn of heated joy gave way to pain.

"Bjorn." She whimpered, pounding at his shoulders to stop, to get off her.

"I'm sorry, Sacha. It will hurt this once." He trembled, and his blue eyes darkened, as if he too suffered. "Do not move."

She froze and waited. His breathing returned to normal, and in that time, this incredible feeling inside her grew, as if they were one flesh. She ran her fingers over his shoulders, hoping to ease his pain. Shifting a leg summoned a dart of need. She gasped, hurrying to lift her other leg.

His soft chuckle splashed her cheeks with warmth.

"Ready?"

She frowned. "For—?"

He withdrew and thrust in again. Crying out, she raised her legs to grip his hips, clawing at his shoulders as if she couldn't hold him close enough, or feel his skin against hers enough.

That familiar building began, and she panted, unable to breathe. Bjorn was as breathless, with grunts and moans slipping through his clenched teeth. She plunged again, diving through the waves of pleasure so exquisite it painted the trees and sky with vibrant colors. He roared, and she cupped his cheeks, pain still contorting his features.

When he opened his eyes, he smiled, and the pain faded to happiness. "Ye are mine, Sacha, and Chief Orn has to accept we're handfasted."

"Best to let Da know first, Bjorn."

He laughed and snatched a kiss, lingering to stare into her eyes. It hadn't sunk in yet, not this sweet lassitude melting her into the ground, not this man, her childhood friend wanting her as his wife, not his confession of love.

"Come." He leaped to his feet, taking her with him. "Yer da should know how I feel." He snuck glances as she shifted the dress into place. Twas a little too tight across the chest and hips, but twas unblemished and without darned patches.

With just his boots and breeches, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, cupping her breast with his free hand. "It's a good thing I have a house of my own, Sacha." He snatched another kiss, squeezing and thumbing her nipple through the dress. But when she did the same to him, he stumbled away from her, throwing out a hand as if to hold her back. "Ye can have yer turn this night."

She chuckled. "Vow it."

"I vow." With his tunic on, he laced his fingers through hers, waiting as she toed on her slippers.

He snatched kisses as they meandered home, uncaring of the wagons and merchants witnessing his affection. She curled herself into his embrace, hiding her face. His brave words filled her with bright hope, yet something inside her whispered that all wasn't sunshine and forest flowers.