by Lily Harlem
“Oh!” She was breathing fast, fear twisting in her veins.
He tipped his head and placed the point of the sword on her sternum.
Instantly, she tried to slow her breathing, stop her ribcage expanding and contracting against the blade. “Steinn, please…I…”
“Shh.” He pressed his finger to her lips. “Shh, my love.”
Her heart was thudding, her pulse loud in her ears. She was going to vomit.
Slowly, he dragged the tip of the knife upwards, to the hollow of her throat.
I’m going to die. Then they’ll all know I was right not to let these pagans into our village.
She held back a sob.
His attention flicked from the knifepoint to her face.
His eyes were on fire, his cheeks flushed. She knew he was capable of anything, things her imagination couldn’t even come up with.
Again, he moved the knife, this time towards her right shoulder, the one nearest him. He dragged it with a light pressure, not enough to cut her but enough to leave a red scratch.
A tremble went through her belly and travelled up her spine. Terror had become a new taste in her mouth, mixing with the tang of his Viking blood to turn sour and evil.
He moved the angle of the blade, tipping the handle so that if he pressed down it would go clean through the ball of her shoulder.
“Steinn,” she gasped. “Please, I…”
“Shh,” he said again.
And then he applied pressure, a tiny amount, and a globule of blood rose like a flower blooming from her skin around the very tip of the blade.
He smiled, tossed the dagger onto the floor, then tipped forward. With his tongue, he scooped up the small drop of ruby-red liquid. He drew it into his mouth, closed his eyes, and sighed.
Gladys blew out a breath and quickly checked she wasn’t bleeding more. She wasn’t.
“There,” he said. “I am part of your world and your traditions now. You must tell me of them so we can partake together.” He licked his lips, apparently not noticing the small teeth punctures on his lower one. “We are truly joined by blood now.”
He slipped his hand beneath her neck and held her to him for another of his deep, slow kisses.
Gladys closed her eyes this time, dampness leaking from them onto her temples.
After a few moments, he lifted up. “Do not cry. This is special but does not require your tears.”
She didn’t speak as he roamed her body, stroking her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and exploring the shape of her hips.
“Steinn,” she managed, feeling totally possessed by him. He filled her senses; his touch now was careful and controlled.
“You are a goddess,” he said, “I am a truly lucky Viking.”
She trembled as he slipped between her legs, parting her soft lips.
“Everything I have ever done, everywhere I have ever been has led to this moment. This moment with you.” He kissed her again and sought her entrance.
He pushed in, just one finger, and the heel of his palm caught her nub. With steady, slow movements, he fucked her with his hand.
She whimpered and again closed her eyes. There was no denying it felt good to be touched there in this way. Haps she should imagine Steinn was Angus. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed that would see her through this night.
5
Steinn could sense the ice melting in his cold wife’s heart. He was doing his best to follow her traditions and her beliefs in the hope she would come to love him.
He knew he had a long way to go. Some of the words that had spilt from her lips had been laced with poison—a poison many people had for his kind.
But he would be victorious and show her he was a good man. He would have her body and her heart.
Right now she was breathing shallow, and her eyelids had fluttered closed. Her cunny was dampening around his fingers, and her nipples had tightened. For the love of the gods she was beautiful. Her milky skin perfect, her breasts like ripe fruit, and her tight cunny hugged his fingers.
He didn’t dare speak, or kiss her, for fear of breaking the moment. But it was as if she were accepting his ownership of her and enjoying his attention.
His cock was so hard it throbbed, and his skin tingled with the need to feel her body writhing with his.
But he resisted the ache in his balls and the surge in his bloodstream that was telling him to sink deep and release seed. He had to have some patience, be sensitive to her needs the way his mother had tried her best to teach him.
Gladys whimpered and lifted her hips as though urging him to give her more.
A smile tugged his lips, and he kept working her cunny. The small nub of her pleasure had swollen and he gave it firm rotational pressure.
“Oh, oh…”
He bit on his bottom lip to stop himself from speaking and breaking the spell. He quickly stopped when it pained him.
These people have some strange traditions.
But she was getting so wet; he’d certainly chosen a wife who could do that. Again his cock surged; he wanted that hot heat around his shaft.
She reached down and gripped his wrist, tossing her head to the left to face the wall. Her hips were bouncing in time with his hand now, as though she were fucking herself on his fingers.
Steinn’s heart was pounding. His willpower slipping. He would have to take her soon. But the way she was holding him, taking her pleasure, was a joy to watch. She was hot now, a long way from the ice maiden she’d been when he’d walked in.
“Oh, don’t stop…Angus”
He frowned. “Angus?”
She gasped, opened her eyes, and stared up at him.
Irritation swarmed through him. The little wench had been thinking of another man.
He plucked his fingers from her.
She tried to snap her thighs together, but he was too strong and too quick. He settled between her legs and nudged the tip of his cock at her entrance.
She balled her fists and whacked them onto his shoulders.
He grabbed them in just one of his hands and hoisted them over her head. Her breasts jutted upwards and pressed onto his chest, her little nipples prodding him. “Say my name.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
“Say my name, Gladys, or you will be thoroughly spanked when I have finished what I am about to do.”
She shook her head.
“I will not have you thinking of another man when you are in my bed.”
“My bed,” she snarled.
He hesitated, though the urge to sink fast and deep was becoming all he could think of. In a moment she would be able to say the name of every villager, and he wouldn’t care. “Say it.”
Still she didn’t.
He pushed forward, a sense of satisfaction filling him when her eyes widened and her lips parted. “You have one last chance or your behind will be red raw.”
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in on themselves.
He let out a roar and slid to full depth. Odin’s balls she was stubborn, and he’d enjoy reddening her arse because of it.
As her wet cunny hugged his shaft, he nuzzled his face in her neck. She smelled of soap and lavender, her skin so soft on his. She tried to free her arms, but it was easy to keep her pinned beneath him.
He pulled out, then rode back in, being sure to rub over her nub with his body. She might refuse to say his name, but he’d make her come with him. He would get cries of pleasure from her mouth if nothing else.
A groan rumbled through her chest; she’d tried to hide it.
He penetrated her again, not as fast as he had earlier. He kept this steady and slow, enjoying the grip of her cunny. A long, low moan escaped his lips and became lost in her hair. His balls were retracting, his need to release building.
Hold off. Her first.
He found her mouth and kissed her. She was reluctant, her lips tight, but as he worked his cock she became more pliant, and he made the most of her gasps and sought her tongue.
Steinn had to stop kissing her. He gritted his teeth and stared down at her face. Her eyes were closed, a rise of colour blossomed her cheeks, and her lips were parted.
She was rising to meet his plunges, lost to the sensation he was building in her. It was a beautiful sight, one he knew he’d never get bored of. He continued to measure his thrusts in response to her sharp gasps.
And then her pleasure was there. She held her breath as though suspended in bliss, jammed her head into the pillow, frozen, then she pulsed and contracted around him. A throaty wail tore from her lungs.
Her cunny squeezed him so tight self-control left him, and he released his seed inside her. The relief of no longer having to hold off caused him to cry out, the sound filling his ears and rattling around the walls. Another pulse of pleasure tugged his cock, and he cried out again, this one ending in a low grunt that grated on his throat.
The gods had been kind to him. Even if she was feral.
“Ah, so good,” he said, releasing her wrists and cupping her face. He pushed in as deep as he could go. “You feel so good and wet.”
She was breathing fast and staring up at him, her pupils wide.
“You sound good, too, when you take pleasure.” He smiled and fought to get his breathing under control. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of hearing it.”
“Get off me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“You’ve finished, get off me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye, I’m sure.”
“Even though you know what is happening next.”
If she couldn’t remember, he’d remind her.
Steinn pulled from her, sat back on his heels, and gripped her around the waist. She was so light it took no effort to drag her over his lap, her arse presented up to him.
“Steinn, no…I…”
“It is too late for words.” He landed his palm over her buttocks, twice, hard.
“Ouch!” She kicked upwards, her heels catching his hand.
“Stop kicking or this will go on longer and you will not sit for a sennight.”
“How dare you…ow!”
He’d struck her again, the heat of the contact searing his palm. “No wife should utter another man’s name when having sex,” he said. “And you will learn this lesson now.”
“He is my husband.”
“Was.” A rush of irritation swarmed over him. “He was your husband.” Again he spanked her, harder this time, her flesh rippling with each thwack.
She continued to writhe and cry out, but he didn’t let up. This wife of his needed to keep her sharp, disobedient tongue under control, and if he let her get away with it now, how would they go forward? How would she ever understand they were perfect for each other in this life and the next?
He paused and stroked her arse. The skin was hot and reddened.
She was sobbing, her sweat-laced back trembling as she fisted the fur beneath them.
“Have you learnt your lesson?” he asked.
“Go to Hell.” She pushed onto her elbows and tried to crawl from his grip.
“I guess you haven’t.” He pushed her flat again, her face landing roughly in the bedding. “And we can continue all night until you have learnt your lesson.”
“No, I…ouch!”
Again she kicked her heels while he spanked her. He ignored the hits to his hands. One day he’d teach her to submit properly to discipline, but right now she needed this first lesson in being a Viking wife.
“You have…yourself…to blame…for this.” He’d punctuated each few words with slaps to the tops of her thighs. These had brought new wails of discomfort, and she’d tried to protect herself with her hands.
But she was no match for him, and he continued to punish her, her arse cheeks now flaming scarlet and her no longer tensing after each strike. He knew the pain had layered up; she was just one mass of burning, chaotic soreness.
He paused and caressed her buttocks, enjoying a break for a moment to study her pretty rump.
She was weeping into the bed, not trying to hide her sobs.
“Gladys,” he said, stroking up her back and moving her hair from her ear. “Say you have learnt your lesson and this will end.”
“No.” She pulled her head from his touch.
“But why not? Do you want this pain to continue?” He was confused. Did she enjoy being spanked?
“I won’t be ordered around by you.”
“This is how it is now.”
She twisted to look at him. Her cheeks glowed with tears, and her eyes were puffy. “You are a big bully, Steinn, and I will never call you husband.”
His heart squeezed. Why was she being like this? Why such cruel words after agreeing to marry him and allowing him into her home and bed? “That pains me, Gladys.”
“Good.”
He frowned and steeled his resolve. “But not as much as it will pain you.” He resumed spanking her, a newfound harshness behind each strike, for his very soul hurt that she didn’t want him.
She battled against him, her cries full of shock at how much muscle he was putting behind each thwack. Oh, he knew he wouldn’t do her any permanent damage but if he could slap the streak of glacial ice from her then that would be a good start.
“No, no, that is enough,” she cried. “Please.”
He clasped her closer and continued to smack her arse. His palm was numb, and he was breathing hard and fast.
“Steinn, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
He stopped. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry.” A sob seemed to stick in her throat. “I’ve learnt…my lesson.”
“You have?”
“Aye, please…stop now.”
“Of course.” He plucked her upwards, so she was on her knees, facing him, her arse free from touching anything. “You only had to say those words.” He held her shoulders and stroked his thumb over the small cut he’d made there. “That was all you had to do.”
“I understand now.” She ducked her head and clasped her hands.
“Good.” He swept his lips over her brow. “Then that is behind us…well, apart from the fact you might find it sore to be seated for the next few days.”
She nodded and dropped to the bed, on her side and facing away from him.
He reached for a fur and pulled it over her, covering her blushed arse and slim shoulders. It slid up to reveal her ankles, so he sought another blanket and covered her feet, not wishing her to be chilled in the cold of the night.
“There,” he said, smoothing her hair and tucking in behind her, also with a blanket over his body. “Sleep now. Tomorrow is another day for us to learn all about one another.” He kissed the back of her head. “And do not fear, for I am always here to protect you. You can sleep without terrors, my love. You are everything to me, and I would die for you.”
6
Gladys lay awake glaring at the wall and hating Steinn more with each of his breaths that tickled her neck.
How dare he fuck her and spank her. Believe that he was her master and this was his house.
I’ll kill him.
The desire to see him dead was overwhelming. But much as that was the case, Steinn’s strength was also overwhelming. She didn’t stand a chance competing with his brawn. The man was solid and strong, and he had no qualms about using that power.
I need to get clever, use my brain instead of my body.
She smiled at that new plan and closed her eyes. She’d need sleep before she could think straight. She also needed the pain in her arse to subside.
When she woke she was still on her side, Steinn still pressed up behind her, his knees bent at the same angle as hers as if he couldn’t get close enough. He also had his heavy arm slung over her waist.
Carefully, she shifted forward, hoping he wouldn’t wake. She had things to do.
He mur
mured in his sleep.
She stilled and continued to listen to his breathing.
It didn’t change. She lifted his arm and wriggled from beneath it. Then she reached for her pillow and lay his arm on it, hoping he might think she was still lying there.
Gingerly, she crawled to the end of the bed, keeping a fur wrapped around herself.
It wasn’t until she stood tall that she released a breath. His eyes were still closed, his chest rising and falling steadily, his fur blanket having slipped to his waist.
For a moment she let her gaze settle on his body. He was more masculine than Angus had been, his biceps bunched even in sleep and his torso wide. He had a few dents and scars on his skin, like a bronze shield that had been to battle many times.
He stirred, and she tensed. But all he did was squeeze the pillow a little closer and rest his face on it, seeming to snuggle his nose into the material.
She resisted tutting, because that might wake him, and turned away.
Quickly, she dressed, then let herself out of the house.
Dawn was still young and the chilled air fresh. The cockerel hadn’t woken and all was pin-drop quiet. She guessed it would be a while before any of the villagers stirred.
Retrieving a pail from the side of the house, she headed to the well. She’d get water for the goats and to make a herbal infusion for herself—not for him.
She wandered to the well, her dress grazing over her tender arse and reminding her of the spanking she’d taken at his hand.
A frown ploughed over her brow. Sitting to enjoy her hot drink would not be comfortable.
Cora ran past her, a small mouse hanging from her mouth. “Good girl,” Gladys said, setting the pail at the well then turning the handle. She watched as Cora ran into a patch of nettles, the stinging leaves and stalks not affecting her.
Nettles.
Gladys looked at the house, then back at the patch of greenery. An idea had popped into her mind. It would be the one to set her plan in motion.
She filled up the pail, hurried to the goats, and topped up their drinking trough. Then she dashed to the patch of nettles. Using the base of her skirt, she picked a bunch of the lance-headed weeds and dropped them in her pail. A few sharply toothed leaves and hairy stalks brushed her wrist, the red flash of fire on her skin instant.