Savage Want (Wicked Wants, #3) by Annice Sands Read Free Book Online Page A

people on foot didn’t seem quite as insignificant. Behind us, I could hear the sounds of a cart’s wheels. Torsten was in that cart. Sometimes he would wake up and shout like a madman until struck by a pommel or, one time, a stone from the side of the road. I couldn’t imagine how injured he was. He wouldn’t have been easy to take down. And to think that I held a dagger in my possession that I’d almost plunged into his heart.
    On the morning of the third day, shortly after we’d broken camp, the lands swelled and rolled with fields freshly planted and the manor came into view. Seeing it stirred a confusing pot of reactions in me, that I was liberated from the barbarians and was to be swept up into privileged living once again. And that perhaps our wedding plans would resume almost immediately. But my mind wandered on dark paths, recalling Torsten’s big strong hands, how they’d gripped my ass tight enough to leave light bruising and his fiery kiss. How Torsten had filled me. My breath quickened and I felt a warmth pool between my thighs. My nipples tightened underneath the fabric of my dress and the gait of my mount did not help matters at all. Had I been lying in bed undisturbed, I’d have touched myself. My body wanted what my title would not allow, not until the right time and done so in a lawful fashion. Yet the lords could have whomever they wished. I supposed that even Torsten had taken other women even as I slept in his bed in his tent. But I never saw reason to think that he did put himself on others. And I heard of Cecil’s conquests each and every time. I would not be his first and, most likely, not his last, a fact that I chose before to ignore.
    My father greeted us at the gates. All worries dissipated as he held me against his chest in reunion. Of all people I thought I’d lost, he was the one I worried for the most. Tears of joy slid down my dirty cheeks. I wiped at them and then he did before taking me into his arms to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead.
    “I can imagine all you want is a bath.”
    I could not help but laugh. “The sight of you has made me temporarily forget.”
    “Get yourself cleaned up and we will meet to talk later.”
    Food. That I could certainly enjoy. Part of me wondered if Torsten had eaten since he’d been taken prisoner. His cart had gone on inside the wall, where he was probably being loaded into a holding cell. I let go of my father and gave a small curtsey. A trio of ladies-in-waiting escorted me inside the manor to a fresh hot bath, replete with crushed petal of the rose. There was no sign of Milanra. Perhaps she had been killed, along with so many others.
    The scent was nearly overwhelming, but I slid into the water without complaint, as baths were a luxury with Torsten’s clan, and the task was completed in rivers, lakes, or streams. I wondered what he would think of the tub filled with clean water and flowers. A small smile crossed my face as I imagined his dark scowl and disdain for the entire experience.
    The three servants retreated and left me alone.
    As if they did not rely on me for command, my hands slid over the skin of my abdomen. It was like Torsten’s touch, though I couldn’t grip my sides the way he would. I peered guiltily around the room and relaxed.
    Oh, how I wanted him. And yet he stood or sat bound in chains somewhere on the property, a thief of the Duke’s soon-to-be daughter-in-law. A savage man, born to bleed and draw blood. But I knew a different side of him. The soft murmurs in my ear in his strange language. His words sounded like a wolf’s growl, should the animal be given the gift of speech. I eased my thighs open.
    Torsten was there, in my mind, as my hand slid over the gentle curve of my hip to cup my mound. The pleasure of the simple pressure quickened my breath and I let out a soft whine. Devil’s work, touching one’s own self in private places. I rocked my wrist back and forth to rub the silken grooves of my cunt. There