Tyra & Bjorn (Viking Glory Book 3)

by Celeste Barclay

  “I suppose it’s a good thing that I don’t want children yet.” Tyra tilted her head. “Do you?”

  “When the gods bless me to be a father, then I will be ready.” He leaned in for a deep kiss. “Ty, I will be a farmer when it comes time to have a family. I won’t leave my wife and children behind.”

  “Your wife? You didn’t say ‘you.’ You said ‘my wife.’”

  Bjorn caught the doubt in her voice and wanted to laugh that she would still wonder who he wanted to spend his life with.

  “I did say ‘my wife.’ I didn’t say ‘a wife.’ Ty, you will be my wife.”

  “Is that a proposal?”

  “If you believe it to be. I believe it’s fact. I won’t let go of you. I’ve been in love with you since I was seven. Seven. Now that you have told me you love me, twenty years later no less, there is no chance I will let you get away. I meant what I said the other night, that making love to you changes everything. I am yours as much as you are mine.”

  “Just don’t die on me,” Tyra whispered. It was an unreasonable request to put before a warrior, but she had to say it.

  “I told you. I’m not going anywhere without you, and I’ll be damned if I let you let die.”

  “I feel so foolish and so guilty. This time we lost. It’s my fault.”

  “Shh. No, it isn’t. I could have, should have, worked harder for us to have these conversations sooner. I was too scared and still licking my wounds from ten years ago. I was a coward,” his voice trailed off.

  Bjorn was not expecting the fist to his gut or for her to cinch the neckline of his shirt closed in her hand.

  “Don’t you ever, ever say that again,” she growled. “You are not, and never have been, a coward. I refuse to hear those words from you again. You will not take on a shame that is not yours to bear. I would kill anyone who said that about you, so I damn well won’t hear it from you.”

  She shoved his chest away as she scowled at him. Bjorn laughed as he kissed her furrowed brow, her pinkening cheeks, her nose, and her downturned mouth. His kiss was slow as he coaxed her into opening for him. He swept his tongue across her lips before plunging in. He took his time to build her need into a raging inferno. Tyra pulled at his shirt until she slid her hands beneath. She hummed in appreciation as her hands glided over the chiseled muscles of his chest and stomach. She slid her fingers to his nipples and circled them with the tip of her index finger, then pinched them, eliciting a growl as he moved along her jaw to her neck. He kissed a fiery path to her collarbone as he pushed her shirt down over her shoulder. He nipped with his teeth then swept his tongue over each spot to sooth it. His lips inched along until he found the spot behind her ear that made her shiver. Tyra’s nipples hardened as Bjorn’s breath tickled her ear. He turned his head to flick her earlobe with his tongue, then sucked lightly. His tongue found the whorl of her ear, and his breath made her shiver again.

  “I’m still hungry. This little snack wasn’t nearly enough.”

  The air was not as cool as they feared since it was still early evening, and the wind died down. Bjorn pushed the branches off him and cradled Tyra’s head as he laid her on the ground. His hands traveled over her body as he kneeled between her legs. As he brought them back to her waist, his fingers found their way beneath her shirt. His mind roared that he had surely been plucked from earth by a Valkyrie when his hands found her pert breasts. Tyra arched her back to fill his hands as she pulled him toward her. When he lowered himself to his elbows, she squeezed her knees against his hips as her hands caressed his backside then grabbed it not so gently. Bjorn thrust his hips against her mons, and Tyra lifted her hips to meet him. He pulled away and unlaced her leather pants. He tugged them to her ankles before he yanked her boots off and pulled her pants all the way off. The last of the sunset had already faded, and he cursed the gods for depriving him once again the sight of Tyra’s body as he pleasured her. His touch along her inner thigh was like a feather, and she pulled at his shoulders as her need grew.

  “I told you I’m hungry. Would you deny a starving man his feast?”

  “And if my hunger gnaws at me and won’t subside?”

  She was as aroused as he was, and his cock strained against the uncomfortable tightness of his own leather pants.

  “I’m not giving up on tasting you, but we can compromise.”

  Bjorn wondered if she would understand his implications.

  “Take your clothes off and turn around.”

  Bjorn came close to climaxing just from hearing Tyra agree to what he had not dared put into words. He was quick to strip off his boots and pants before lying on the ground. Tyra was the one to turn around as she straddled his hips, but she found what she was searching for in the dark. His iron length jutting from his body made it easy. She wrapped her hand around his cock at the first dip of his tongue into her sheath. She did not bother to not contain the moan that escaped, nor did she want to. Tyra wanted Bjorn to understand she craved his ministrations as much as she was about to enjoy offering him hers. She flattened her tongue at the base of Bjorn’s rod as she bathed it with sweeping licks until she came to the tip. She flicked the ridge below the head of his cock and smiled when he twitched. His groan was followed by his lips drawing in her bud as he sucked and made her entire body shake. She lowered her mouth and took him in, inch by inch, as she teased him. She relished the spank he gave her, and she wiggled her hips in response. His length sunk into her mouth as she began to apply pressure, and he gripped her backside.

  Bjorn was sure their tryst would be over in a matter of seconds. Tyra’s mouth on his cock was beyond anything he had ever experienced, and far beyond what his imagination had conjured countless times over the years. He dragged in deep breaths and blew the alternating cool and warm air onto Tyra’s sensitive skin. His fingers dug into her hips as he drew her back closer to him. He ran one hand over her back and bottom while the other investigated her nether lips before dipping two fingers into her sheath as he continued to work her pleasure nub with his lips and tongue.

  Tyra’s elbows tried to give out as her body responded to Bjorn’s touch. He found a spot along the wall of her womb that she as sure no man had ever discovered. It was almost too distracting to remember she was in the midst of pleasuring him, too. Her hips undulated to the rhythm he set as her mind evoked images of their bodies joining in ecstasy. She increased the pace of her hand and mouth as her arousal soared with her thoughts and Bjorn’s touch. She cupped his bollocks and rolled them in her palm as he added a third finger. Tyra was unable to withstand the need that enveloped her as her body raced toward release. She lifted and pulled away as Bjorn reached to bring her back.

  “No,” she growled as she faced him and straddled his hips again. She lowered herself onto him, not muffling her moan as her body took him in. She rocked her hips as her climax rose from the depths of her belly as wave after wave of pleasure tightened all of her muscles. Bjorn felt robbed of watching Tyra’s face as she climaxed around him. He rolled her onto her back and came onto his forearms. Bjorn thrust into her with long, slow strokes as she writhed beneath him. If he thrust any faster, he would spill his seed. He refused to end things that soon. He would draw out her need until he pushed her over the edge several more times.

  “More,” she whispered.

  “More what, my love?”

  “More of everything. More pressure, more speed. Harder, Bjorn.” Each sentence drawn out as she pressed her feet into the ground to meet his thrusts. “Show me.”

  Bjorn understood what she meant, and he had no reservations about showing her just how much he craved her. He pulled back and lifted her hips as he surged into her harder with each thrust. He was not convinced the night’s darkness made his vision black. Tyra on him and around him was bliss he never would have conceived as possible until that moment. Her muscles spasmed around him as she pleaded for more. Bjorn continued to hammer his sword into her sheath as she cried out his name. Hearing it on her lips was the point of no
return for Bjorn. He thrust once more before pulling out. He scooped Tyra into his arms as he leaned back. He kneeled as she wrapped herself around him. He stroked her back as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She clung to him as though afraid he would put her down.

  It was only once they both controlled their breathing that they fused their lips in a tender kiss that was the opposite of their heated and aggressive joining.

  “I love you,” Tyra murmured against his lips.

  “I love you too, wife.” Bjorn whispered.

  “I’m not your wife.”

  “Maybe not yet to everyone else, but you are to me.”

  “I will gladly be your wife, husband.”

  His breath hitched at her words. She ran her fingers through his hair as he settled.

  “What is it?” she wondered.

  “I never thought to hear you call me that. I’ve prayed and asked the gods over and over, but I didn’t think they would ever grant me that. Once Sigrid arrived, I was too scared to ask her in case she didn’t see us together. I shall never forget hearing you call me husband for the first time.”

  “You are rather sentimental. You’re a softie underneath all those slabs of muscle.”

  “Slabs of muscle, huh?”

  “You know it.”

  “But I like hearing it. Ty, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. To know you desire me--” he broke off as his head sank. She pressed a kiss against his forehead.

  “And don’t you realize you’re the most handsome man I have ever seen? I’ve always been in awe of your body. Now I can touch it.”

  “Whenever and however you want.”

  Tyra laughed, “You may change your mind when I won’t let go. I shall have my hand wrapped around your cock as you try to spar with Leif and Erik.”

  “Your hand, your mouth, your sheath. Anything, anytime.”

  “I’m ready. Are you?”

  Bjorn growled as he laid her back onto the ground. It shocked him that he was ready to make love to her again, but he was. He slipped into her entrance and groaned.

  “Bjorn, it’s so good, that moment when you first enter me. It’s as if everything is right again after waiting so impatiently.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  This time, they moved slower as they explored each other’s bodies. They discovered more of each other and how their bodies moved in sync. Once they finished and their skin grew clammy with the brisk air, it forced them to dress again. The temperature had plummeted since they began making love, and they appreciated the branches as they settled for the night.

  “Sleep, little one.”

  “I’m not so little,” Tyra yawned.

  “You are compared to me, and you’re tired. Sleep, little one.”

  Tyra burrowed into Bjorn’s chest.

  “You take the first watch, but don’t try to avoid waking me for my turn. You need to sleep too.”

  She was breathing deeply before Bjorn could argue. He rested his cheek against her head as he looked into the darkness, his eyes peeled for danger.

  Twelve

  Tyra nudged Bjorn awake as the sun peeked over the horizon. He attempted to let her sleep through the night, but she awoke a few hours later and pinched him for not waking her. She had colorful words when he tried to insist she go back to sleep. Bjorn relented with a laugh and drifted to sleep as quickly as she had. Now the sun was coming up, it was time for them to decide what to do next.

  Once more they looked out at the breathtaking vista. While the Trondelag had steep mountains and gushing waterfalls that were awe inspiring, the greenness of the fertile lands in the distance were a marvel to them both.

  “That is why we should journey here. For that land, not for men, not so we can fight ourselves,” Bjorn wondered aloud.

  “Do you think this might be where we build that farm you spoke of last night?”

  Bjorn wrapped his arm around Tyra’s waist as he looked into her upturned face, her eyes earnest.

  “If this is where you would like to live, then I will happily farm here. If there is somewhere else, then I shall follow you.”

  “I can’t stop wanting to say I love you.”

  “I won’t stop you. I’ve never heard anything better,” Bjorn grinned at her. “I love you, too.”

  She stood on her toes as she kissed him, but she pulled away just as Bjorn tried to deepen it. He grumbled as he reached for her. He would not be satisfied until he had kissed her properly and thoroughly. Tyra licked her lips as if to savor the taste, and Bjorn was ready to pounce.

  “Don’t do that, Ty. You are temptation come to life.”

  “Do what?” she licked her lips again.

  “If you ever want to get off this mountain, you will stop teasing me.”

  She pouted but looked toward the direction which they traveled two nights ago.

  “I don’t like having responsibilities,” she muttered to which Bjorn laughed.

  “But your belly rumbled, so you must be hungry. For something other than me.”

  “I see your arrogance is back,” she mused.

  “Only because you have made me feel better about myself than I have in years,” his low tones wrapped Tyra in a different warmth. After their feuding, knowing she made him happy warmed her in a way even his lovemaking did not.

  “I feel the same, Bjorn.”

  They spent the next fifteen minutes assessing their choices, and they agreed they needed to travel in the direction they came when Grímr took them hostage. They supposed he would have moved on by now, either in continued search for them or to find the others, if not to continue his recruitment and training. Tyra and Bjorn set off and made their way down the mountain face. The terrain was rough, and they slid in several places. Bjorn grew so anxious that he would not take another step until Tyra walked behind him and held the corner of his shirt, just as she had when they fled in the dark. Rather than argue, Tyra agreed. In part, she appreciated the help and it made her worry less, but she was aware it made Bjorn less anxious, too. She admitted to herself that she enjoyed knowing she made Bjorn happy. It was a better, more genuine sense of accomplishment than when she used to make him miserable on purpose.

  It took them less time to hike to the base than it did to climb, but it was still several hours later when they walked away from what Tyra was convinced was Ben Wyvis.

  They alternated walking and jogging as they tried to make up the distance they had to travel without exhausting themselves, since they still had not eaten more than the rowan berries. It was early afternoon when they reached the base of the mountain, and sunset approached by the time they had to stop. Both of them weaved and stumbled as they walked.

  “Do you hear that?” Tyra murmured.

  They had only spoken when necessary to maintain stealth in case they stumbled upon Grímr or any of the Rosses. Bjorn shook his head. He strained, but nothing came to his ears except for the soft rustle of trees beside the path they found.

  “It’s water. It’s soft, but I am certain.” Tyra pointed to their right. They found a well-worn path several hours earlier and walked closely along the tree line. It had been used enough for them to know it led somewhere of significance. They hoped it would either take them somewhere useful or give them information to orient themselves.

  Tyra pulled an arrow from the quiver she had taken from the Norseman Bjorn killed. Bjorn drew his sword in one hand and a knife in the other. Bjorn nodded for Tyra to go first, knowing an arrow would reach an attacker much sooner than his sword. He stayed close without being in the way. She crept through a gap in the trees until she spotted the stream. Beside it was a group of men in plaids. Tyra’s eyes opened as she looked over her shoulder at Bjorn. He had seen them, too. They tried to fade back into the woods, but a squirrel chattered angrily at them. The sound made a couple of them laugh.

  “The wee beastie sounds fit to be tied. I wonder what has him chattering away. Rabbit or another squirrel,” one man chuckled as he looked o
ver his shoulder. It was an instant later that he was on his feet drawing his sword. “Norsemen!”

  “Shite,” Tyra muttered.

  The five men lounging beside the water only moments ago were now irate Highlanders charging after Bjorn and Tyra. Bjorn stepped aside as Tyra rapidly fired arrows, striking one in the throat and shoulder. He fell to his knees as Tyra launched three more arrows, one finding a home in a man’s arm. He roared and snapped the arrow where it entered his skin. Despite it being his sword arm, he raised it over his head as he raced forward.

  “Back and to the left,” Bjorn called as they moved into an opening that would give them more room to fight.

  Tyra shot two more arrows into the man she had already hit. He only seemed to grow stronger as his injuries worsened. She was out of time to use her bow. She flung it to the ground before pulling two knives from her belt. She and Bjorn backed into each other to protect themselves. It would be the two of them against three angry warriors and one enraged monster who ran with arrows sticking out of him. They were willing to take those odds. The first man lunged at Tyra as she sliced his arm with her knife. She twisted away as Bjorn swung his sword at the man he faced off with. Tyra slipped under her opponent’s arm and came up just below his chin with her blade pointed up. It sunk into the man’s throat, and blood splattered her face. She did not even flinch. Tyra pushed him away as she yanked his shield from his arm. She swung the shield at the next man who came from her right. Bjorn had already felled the first man he fought. Now he defended himself against the warrior who resembled a porcupine as well as the man’s friend. He sliced through the leg of the first to approach. He attempted to sever it, but the man jumped back just in time. Bjorn lunged again and again as he drove the man back, moving them both away from Tyra as she wielded the shield like a sword, hacking and slicing with it. She crashed it into her opponent’s head as he stumbled, surprised at the viciousness and ferocity of her moves. Tyra kicked the man in the groin before bashing him in the head twice with the shield. Freya’s near-fatal mistake years ago taught her to never assume an enemy was dead. She drew her knife across his throat and watched with satisfaction as blood bubbled from his throat and mouth.