by Lily Harlem
“Oh, so pretty,” Gladys said.
Steinn studied the darting insects. “Ja, they are.” He’d never considered a butterfly to be pretty, but his wife clearly thought so. And she was right.
He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.
“What is that for?” she asked with a smile.
“You make me see things I had never seen before.” He gestured to the butterflies. “And I am grateful for that.”
She laughed, the sound tinkling around the tree trunks and settling in his heart. “Sometimes a big dumb Viking needs to have his eyes opened.”
“Hey, who are you calling dumb.” He whipped his arm around her waist and snatched her close.
“Who do you think?”
She was teasing him. He recognised the way she nibbled her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed.
“In that case, I will redden your arse for your cheek. Right here, right now, over that log.”
“Steinn!” She pushed at him, humour still playing in her expression. But then suddenly it went. Her lips tightened, and she turned to the right. “What is that?”
“What?”
“I can hear…something.” She stepped from his embrace. “Towards the river.”
He strained to listen. Over the slight sound of the babbling brook was a soft but high-pitched wailing.
“It’s a baby,” she said, dropping her basket and gathering her gown in both hands. “Quick, we must go to it.”
She took off down the glade
Steinn raced after her. He’d never seen his wife move so quickly.
Within a few strides he was at her side, and they rushed to the stream, the pitiful wails of the bairn getting louder.
“There.” She switched direction and headed towards a large oak tree.
Beneath it was a newborn swaddled in a green woollen blanket. It’s tiny pink mouth showcasing a vibrating tongue as it screamed its upset to the world.
“Shh, shh, wee one.” Gladys dropped to her knees and lifted the child as though it were made of the most delicate pottery. “Come here, all is well. You are not alone.”
Steinn stood, feet apart, hand on his sword, and looked around the area. The trees were huddled together, the shadows dense. Apart from the sound and movement of water slipping and tripping over the riverbed, there was nothing else to detect. He peered into the darkness.
Who does this child belong to?
“Shh, shh, stop crying now,” Gladys said, holding the child close and dipping her head to study it. “I have you, you’re safe.” She put her smallest finger into the child’s mouth, and it sucked as it stared up at his wife with big green eyes. The wailing stopped.
“Why would someone leave their bairn in the forest?” Steinn asked.
“Likely they believed it a changeling and gave it back to the fairies.”
He frowned. “They would do that? Just leave it here?”
“Aye, some folk believe their human bairn was swapped, replaced with a changeling.”
“But why would they think that?”
“Some folk are stranger than their beliefs.” She stood, still holding the now quiet child. Its cheeks were red and its eyes watery as it stared at Gladys, unblinking. A small lingering sob shuddered through its body.
“What will we do with it?” Steinn stepped close, studying the child’s round face and pale wisps of hair.
“I do not ken.” Gladys dipped her head. A lock of her hair fell forward, over her face.
“I do.” He tucked the strand behind her ear.
She looked up at him.
He smiled. “We will take it home, and if no one stops us on the way to claim their child, then by the time we are there, this will be our new baby. Our child.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “You would do that?”
“It’s not just me, it is both of us who wish for a child.”
“But…we do not ken if this is a boy or a girl.”
“It does not matter to me.” He touched the babe’s tiny brow. “Already I know the gods have formed a bond between the three of us. Why else would we be in this remote part of the forest to hear this child’s cries for help?”
“It does seem like fate.” Gladys glanced around. “There is no one here?”
“Not that I can see, and no obvious tracks.” He cupped the nape of her neck and touched his nose to hers. “Are you happy with my plan, wife?”
“Aye.” She nodded. “We cannot leave an innocent bairn in the woods. Awful things will happen to it.”
He smiled. “And we have a safe home and love to share.”
“Steinn.” She kissed him, and her eyes suddenly teared up. “You are a truly remarkable man.”
“I’m glad you think so.” His heart swelled at her words.
“To take in a child so willingly. Few men would, even fewer Vikings.”
“I try to do the right thing, so when I get to Valhalla my stories to tell the gods as we feast will be honourable.”
“You are honourable.” She kissed him again, then stepped away. “Let’s drink, then make for home.”
Steinn added a log to the fire then turned and watched as Gladys lay his new son down to sleep.
They’d picked the name Yaron, which meant joy. Both he and Gladys were sure this child would bring them much joy in the future—he already had. His wife fussing and doting like a mother hen, and with love radiating from her was a joy for Stein to watch.
Steinn adored seeing her like this. A child was what had been missing from her life.
“Is the crib satisfactory?” he asked, removing his belt and setting it on the table. He was careful to lay the axe down quietly.
“It will do for now.” She stroked Yaron’s head. “Until you have the time to make one.”
His crib consisted of a drawer raised off the draughty floor by a box. But laid with furs and set by the fire it was warm and comfortable. And with a belly full of goat’s milk, the child appeared perfectly content.
“He is a handsome bairn,” Steinn said, sitting in the tall-backed chair.
“He is.” She kissed Yaron’s head then straightened. “Just like his father.”
Steinn chuckled. “There was a time you thought I was ugly with big ears.”
“I don’t think that anymore, as well you ken.” She stepped up to him. “I think I am the luckiest Pict woman alive to have such a man as you.”
Steinn slipped his hands to her arse and squeezed.
She gasped, and a slight frown marred her brow.
“Sore?” he asked.
“No.” Her jaw tensed.
He knew she was tender. The day before he’d had to spank her for throwing a horned cup at him. He’d made a comment about the fire going out and it being her fault. Seemed she hadn’t like being blamed for that, or it being pointed out. The horn had narrowly missed his head and had smashed against the wall.
He still had a way to go to train this wife of his, but it was fun doing so. The spank had ended with lots of sex, including his cock in her arse.
“Steinn,” she said, dipping her hand into her pocket. “I have something for you.”
“Today you have already given me a child. I need nothing else.”
She smiled, the mention of the spanking clearly forgotten. “I made this for you.” She withdrew a small leather thread. From it hung a wooden pendant shaped like a feather.
“It’s skilfully made,” he said, touching it. “By you?”
“Aye. And I ken how you revere the ravens,” she said, slipping it around his neck. “It is a raven feather.” She tied it secure.
“It is a wonderful gift, wife,” he said, tugging her closer still. “Though it means you must also wear my gift.”
He delved into a pouch he kept hanging from the waistband of his trousers. After finding the ring, he pulled it out.
“Steinn.” Her eyes widened as she took in the large blue stone at its centre. “But…”
“It is time to replace the wed
ding band Angus gave you with this.” He took her left hand. “You are my wife, not his, not anymore.”
She nodded and swallowed.
“I must insist upon this, especially now we are a family.”
She pulled in a shaky breath, and he knew she was trying to be strong and brave. This was hard for her, he’d known it would be, which is why he’d been patient. But that patience was all used up now. Now she must wear his ring.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Like you.” He tugged the dull ring from her finger, placed it on the table at his side, and slipped on the jewelled symbol of their marriage. “You will wear this always, in this life and the next.” He kissed it. “I never wish to see it removed.”
She stared at it for a moment, then, “I will wear it always, with pride.”
He caught her mouth in a kiss, tugging her forwards.
Her hands were busy, working the buttons of his trousers.
His cock surged when he realized what her plans were. And as she freed his shaft and took it in her small, hot palms, he groaned with pleasure. “Gladys.”
“Steinn.” She worked him with skill and using just the right amount of pressure. “You’re always so hard.”
“That is because you are always with me.” He sighed and closed his eyes, adoring her touch and her enthusiasm.
After a while, he shimmied up her gown and cupped her arse. “Like this.” He urged her to widen her legs around his and straddle his lap. “Sit on my cock.”
“Aye, my love.” She clutched his shoulders and hovered her spread pussy over his cocktip, her lips kissing it. “We will keep trying for more children, more sons.”
“Always.” He smiled and kissed her.
She sank down, taking him in.
A groan ripped from his chest. Every time was like the first with Gladys. Her warm, tight cunny hugged his cock, each muscle fluttering around his shaft making him wonder if he’d have any self-control.
“Mmm,” she moaned when her arse cheeks hit his thighs. Her eyes closed, and he studied the pleasure washing over her face.
With his hands full of her soft arse, he shifted his hips, encouraging her to move.
Soon she was riding him, scraping her nub on his body and panting. A sheen of sweat sat on her brow and top lip. Still her eyes were closed.
“Claim your pleasure,” he ordered breathlessly. “When you can.”
“I can. Oh, I can. Steinn.” She ran her fingers into his hair, gripping it. “With me. Come with me.” She tore open her eyes.
He stared into them, looked deep into her soul. This was the woman he never wanted to be apart from. No other would ever fill her space. She was his and he was hers.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she gasped, bucking her hips and finding her release.
She threw her head back, and he used one hand to support her crown and filled her with seed, her pulsing cunny throbbing around his cock as ropes of release shot high inside her.
She ground out her ecstasy. Her wails escalated, and he clamped his hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t wake the babe.
When she’d finished, she stilled and stared at him.
They were both breathing fast.
He moved his hand.
She was smiling behind it. “I love you.”
His heart was already tripping along as though he were in battle, but now it doubled in speed. It was the first time she’d said the words, though he had uttered them many times to her.
“Gladys.” He stroked her hair from her pretty face.
“I do. I really do. In here, you have to believe me, Steinn. I—”
“I believe you.” There was such earnestness in her tone and such warmth in her eyes. The last of the ice had melted from his frosty bride. She’d always have her moments of disobedience and temper, but that kept life interesting. “I believe you,” he said again. “And I thank the gods that you have come to love me as I do you. We will be in each other’s hearts for all eternity.”
“Aye, we will.” She kissed him, and more than any words, that kiss told him he’d made the right decision to stay in this new wild land and take on a new wild wife.
Explore all the romances within the VIKING SURRENDER series.
Brandr - by Ashe Barker
Forced to wed a fierce Viking warlord to save her people, Eithne must surrender to her husband’s stern discipline, yet his tenderness takes her breath away. A man of his word, Brandr vows to protect her village from its enemies.
But what of Eithne? Who will protect her as she learns to care for this ferocious man who now leads her people and holds her heart in his mighty hands?
Ragnar - by Sky Purington
Intrigued by the symbol on his blade, Myrna chooses Ragnar for her husband. But how is she to love a man who lives in the past? Determined to remain faithful to his deceased wife, Ragnar both fights and craves Myrna, hungry for her healing touch. Will he give in and find sanctuary in her arms? Or will the shocking truth about his dagger end love before it begins?
Graeme - by Gianna Simone
Maimed and bitter, Graeme is forced to take a wife from the barbarians invading his shores. Resentful of her invading his solitary life, he vows to bend her to his will.
Rinda grudgingly weds a man she barely knows—who hates her nearly as much as she despises him. Yet, despite their shared animosity, the wounded warrior and shield-maiden share an unexpected passion that soon consumes them both.
Magnus - by Emmanuelle de Maupassant
Magnus is tortured by memories of his wife’s murder at the hands of savage berserkers, yet commanded to wed.
The valiant warrior finds unexpected passion in his new bride’s arms, but can Modwen’s love heal the wounds of his battle-scarred heart—or will another’s jealousy destroy them both?
Thorolf - by Vanessa Brooks
Ailsa, a woman scarred by the brutality of men, knowing peace only in the depths of the forest. Thorolf, a cunning warrior, as fierce as the wolves Ailsa adores. Enemies bound by marriage, their attraction is undeniable. But can her Viking husband tame Ailsa’s wounded heart?
Garth - by Sassa Daniels
A proud warrior, he hides a debilitating weakness. The village outcast, she’s plagued by terrifying visions. Their marriage seems cursed from the start. But, as they come to terms with their union, will they find the love they both need?
Jerrik - by Felicity Brandon
Brigid: The last thing I need is a husband, especially some Viking brute commanding my surrender.
Jerrik: Fight all you want, little Pict. You will yield to my desire...
Forced into a union she didn't seek, Brigid is terrified and aroused by Jerrik's masterful behaviour and carnal demands. But, when he saves her son from the ferocious ocean, Brigid realises he may be the hero she needs, as well as the man she craves.
Steinn - by Lily Harlem
Married to a barbaric beast, Gladys cannot believe her bad fortune. A rough and raw Norseman has taken to her home and her bed as if it’s his right. But never fear, she has plans to do away with him, to rid him from her life…for good.
Steinn is thankful to the gods for his good luck. His new bride Gladys is a sexy little wild cat with curves and an ass to die for. Admittedly she needs a little training, and a fair bit of discipline, but he’ll take her in hand if it’s the last thing he does. Won’t he?
Bjorn - by Jane Burrelli
A proud shield-maiden vowing never to be possessed by any man. A ruthless Viking warrior swearing to tame the bold beauty.
A battle of wills and consuming desire.
But who will conquer who?
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