Wild Viking Princess (The FitzRam Family Medieval Romance Series)

by Anna Markland

  He took her to another guest chamber. They sat together on the edge of the bed, and he held her trembling hand.

  “I don’t understand, Reider,” she murmured.

  “Margit got hold of a weapon and murdered a guard, then escaped from the gaol.”

  A long breath shuddered through her. “She woke me before she attacked. She wanted me to know my executioner.”

  “She was mad, Ragna. It became clear a while ago. I wish I had ordered her death before this. I would have given anything to save you this terror.”

  She leaned into him and he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the spicy fragrance, once more dreading the explanation he would have to give her about Olve. He noticed the blood spatters on her chemise. “I will send a thrall to help you change your gown.”

  She pulled away from him. “I want Olve.”

  He braced his hands on his thighs and looked up at the ceiling, searching for guidance. “I cannot send Olve. I must speak with her.”

  “What will happen to her?”

  He scratched his head. Ragna would not make this easy. “A thrall who raises a hand against a free person must be punished.”

  She jumped to her feet to stand facing him, hands on her hips. “Punished! She saved my life! The woman she killed was mad. If she had succeeded in killing me who would she have sought out next?”

  He looked at his feet. “Me.”

  She stamped her foot. “Exactly! Olve should be declared Queen of Strand for what she has done!”

  He chuckled in an effort to lighten the tension. “That will be your role.”

  She snorted and turned her back, arms folded across her chest, foot drumming the planking. He could not win this argument. He left while his limbs were still intact.

  ~~~

  Kjartan greeted Reider at the door of the chamber. “Margit’s body has been removed.”

  “Good, thank you. See that her body is returned to Heide as soon as feasible. And send another thrall to assist Ragna.”

  He strode into the chamber, surprised to see it empty. “Where is the thrall? I instructed her to wait.”

  “She insisted she must stay here, but when she collapsed, I deemed it prudent to move her to a sick bed. Ragna would not—”

  “Collapsed?”

  Kjartan nodded grimly. “Some weeks ago Margit kicked her in the belly. She was with child and says something broke inside that has not healed.”

  Reider’s gut roiled. “Whose child was it?” he asked, suspecting he already knew.

  “Gorm’s.”

  Shame washed over him. He was reminded again that he had failed to see the depravity under his nose. “I have not been a good prince, Kjartan. I need to be more vigilant in the future.”

  Kjartan put a hand on his shoulder. “You will be, Reider, with Ragna’s help.”

  ~~~

  Ragna’s eyes blinked open. It was long past dawn. She had not expected to sleep after the events of the night. She stretched languidly, then became aware of Reider sitting in a chair nearby, watching her, his expression guarded.

  Would she ever be able to look at him without desire tingling in her breasts and between her legs? She blushed and sat up quickly. “I didn’t hear you come back to the chamber.”

  “You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He had made no move towards her. He still lounged in the chair, his long legs sprawled out in front of him.

  A knot of dread wound itself round her heart. “What is wrong?”

  He sat up. “Olve is dead.”

  “Nnnnoooo!” She leapt off the bed and rushed at him, her fists flailing.

  He came to his feet, caught her wrists and pulled her to his body, holding her tightly as she beat her fists against his chest. “I hate you all! You’re barbaric! I cannot live here. She saved my life and you killed her.”

  She struggled and protested, but he remained silent and would not let go.

  When she could sob no more, she swayed against him. He rested his chin on top of her head, and rocked her. “I did not kill her, Ragna. She was sick. She died because Margit kicked her in the belly when she was with child. She has known for a while that death stalked her.”

  She took a shuddering breath. “You’re lying.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her back. “I have many faults, Ragna, but I am not a liar. Do not accuse me of such a thing again.”

  Again she had opened her mouth without thinking and impugned the honour of the man she loved beyond reason. “I’m sorry, Reider. But she died a slave.”

  “I freed her before she died.”

  The enormity of his actions, flying in the face of his people’s traditions and beliefs, struck her full force. He had done this out of respect for her, because he loved her.

  She fell to her knees at his feet, head bowed, hands resting palms up on her thighs—a supplicant. “I beseech your forgiveness, Reider. I am not worthy to be your wife.”

  He drew her to her feet. “Ragna, you have the blood of Vikings in your veins, the courage of a warrior and the heart of a lion. It is I who am not worthy of you. I need you by my side if I am to become a better man, a wiser ruler.”

  He kissed her deeply. She had never felt more loved as he poured his desire into his kiss. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, echoing his growl with a groan of her own. “Reider—my Viking prince.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The wedding ceremony lasted three days. Ragna had never seen such a quantity of food and drink in one place, even at the lavish feasts in her Montbryce uncles’ castles in England and Normandie. Everyone made merry, and the gathering was boisterous. Reider’s people were genuinely fond of him and it gladdened her heart. Their relief at being rid of Gorm’s tyrannical rule was palpable.

  She and Reider spoke their vows at the end of the feasting. He explained that Vàr, the Goddess of Oaths, was a witness to their commitment. To Ragna’s relief, a Christian priest was also in attendance to bless their union. These Danes embraced the “White Christ” wholeheartedly, while still holding firm to their pagan gods.

  A replica of Thor’s Hammer was placed in Ragna’s lap and the blessing of the God of Thunder invoked. Thor the hound howled his approval, to everyone’s amusement. Then Reider put his hands on Ragna’s head and prayed for Freyja’s blessings on his wife. “She is the goddess of love and fertility,” he whispered. Ragna felt her face flush and warm wetness pool between her legs. Would the ceremony ever be over? She longed to be abed with this man, experiencing the delights her mother had whispered of. Would she be brave enough to bring Reider pleasure in some of the ways her mother had shared? She shook her head and grinned. What a silly question for a Wild Viking Princess to ask herself!

  ~~~

  Reider sensed something troubled Dieter. His new brother-by-marriage shifted his weight several times, clearing his throat. “Have no fear for Ragna. I will spend my life making her happy.”

  Dieter smiled nervously. “I see the love you have for her. I am reassured in that regard.”

  Reider put his hand on Dieter’s shoulder. “Then what is it?”

  Dieter took another swig of ale and braced his legs. “I am married to Ragna’s sister.”

  Reider nursed his tankard. “I am aware of this.”

  “But what you don’t know is—the FitzRam women are—unusual.”

  Reider felt a tingle in his pik, but a cold shiver marched up his spine at the same time. He decided to say nothing.

  Dieter chuckled. “Let me explain. I want to tell you this for Ragna’s sake. You may get the impression on your wedding night that she is an experienced woman, but you know such is not the case. The FitzRam girls had the benefit of a mother who shared everything she knew about pleasing a man.”

  Reider’s pik stood to attention. His mouth fell open. Ragna’s kisses had already made his knees buckle. He felt his face redden, and feared he might stammer if he spoke.

  Dieter slapped him heartily on the bac
k. “I feel better, and I’m sure you do too! We are fortunate men! Enjoy your wedding night, my friend.”

  Reider caught sight of Kjartan on the other side of the Hall. He strode over to him. “Gather the torch bearers. It’s time I took my wife to our bridal couch.”

  ~~~

  Ragna fidgeted with the embroidered sleeves of her gown while she waited in the processional line for the torch bearers to assemble, recalling things her mother had instilled. Why had she not paid more attention? Did she have the courage? Would Reider enjoy the same attentions, or did each man differ in his preferences?

  Reider took her hand. “They’re ready. The torch bearers accompany us to our bridal couch and are thus witnesses to our marriage. This way our joining is a legal marital relationship.”

  The desire in his brown eyes sent warmth spiralling into her core. Then his words echoed in her head. “But they won’t—surely they won’t—?”

  Reider laughed and trailed his fingers down her throat, adding fuel to the fire. “Nej! No one else will be present when we join our bodies, Ragna. That pleasure is for you and me alone.”

  She licked her lips. “Let’s get on with it then.”

  He smiled and called to Kjartan. “Ready, my friend. Lead on.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Kjartan ushered the last of the well-wishers out of the bridal chamber, then turned to his friend. “May I give my good wishes to your bride, my cousin?”

  Reider smiled and passed Ragna’s hand to Kjartan.

  Kjartan took Ragna’s hands and kissed her forehead. “May Freyja watch over you, and bless your marriage.”

  She squeezed his hands. “Thank you, cousin, for everything.”

  He bowed to his prince, smiled and left.

  The silence in the chamber was broken only by the crackle of the hearty fire, casting its glow over Reider and Ragna as they stood face to face in front of the hearth. Though the aroma of roasted food hung in the air even here, Reider caught the scent of female arousal. He inhaled deeply, flaring his nostrils. Before him stood the promise of a night filled with passion. But he must not forget his wife was a virgin. She may know more about marital intimacy than most young women, but had never experienced it. He must do it right and take his time, no matter that his pik already ached unbearably.

  Ragna swayed, her cheeks red. “I—I know what is to happen this night.”

  He moved forward to take her hands. “Dieter explained—about your mother.”

  She seemed relieved and glanced at his arousal, smiling. “I want to touch you, husband.”

  Reider’s heart soared. He placed her hand on his erection. She kneaded him with her gentle fingers and pressed her palm against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. He groaned and bent to nuzzle her neck. “Your touch inflames me, wife.”

  “Am I doing it correctly?” she whispered.

  Beneath this woman’s veneer of strength beat the heart of an innocent maiden, anxious to please her husband. “There is no wrong way, Ragna.”

  Her head fell back and he traced kisses down her throat. Hands on his shoulders, she pressed her mons to his arousal. “My breasts long for you to kiss them, Reider.”

  Whatever he had done to deserve such a wife, he thanked the gods for his reward. He hoped when he replied his voice would sound like his own. “Let me help you take off your gown. I want to see your body,” he rasped.

  He went down on one knee to remove her shoes. She held on to his shoulders. Taking hold of the hem of her gown and chemise, he slowly peeled them up over her head. She raised her arms, then crossed them over her bared breasts as Reider tossed the garments away.

  He put his hands on her waist. “What’s this? My brave Ragna—shy? Surely not!”

  Her face reddened. She squared her shoulders and let her hands fall to her sides, her fists clenching nervously. His breath caught in his throat as he stepped back to gaze at her nakedness. “You are more beautiful than I remember. I have longed to see you naked again. After the rescue, when I stripped off your clothes and discovered you were not a boy, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”

  She wagged an accusing finger at him, a glint in her eyes, and smiled. “I am at a disadvantage, husband. I have never seen you naked. Do you intend to take off your clothes?”

  He tore off his tunic, fumbling in his haste to untie the laces of his leggings, and came to stand inches away from her. “Undress me, Ragna. I have something I want you to see.”

  She tucked her thumbs into the waist of his leggings and pulled them down slowly over his hips. Her eyes widened as his erection sprang free. She knelt to help him step out of his clothing. He rested his hands on her shoulders, then took her hands and pulled her to her feet. She never took her eyes off his shaft. He inhaled deeply, hoping he would not burst into flames when she touched him. “Do you like what you see?”

  She grinned, then whispered. “You are even more beautiful than I expected—and bigger.”

  He wanted to strut like a peacock. “Touch me again, Ragna. Like before.”

  He braced his legs and she knelt before him, curling her hand around his erection. He showed her how to move her hand on him, and every movement was sweet torture. The silky feel of her beautiful hair brushing against his legs made him weak in the knees. She thrust out her full breasts and he cupped them, brushing his thumbs over the hard pink nipples. She groaned, tossing back her head.

  “Use your other hand to lift my sac.”

  She responded with a touch that sent him reeling. He thanked Freyja for the wise mother-by-marriage he would never meet.

  His need threatened to overtake him. He stilled her hand and cradled her body to his chest. “Come to the bed, Ragna. I want to play with you, but if you keep on, I will release too soon.”

  ~~~

  For the second time, Ragna knelt at Reider’s feet, obeisance she had never offered any man before. Strangely, she liked it. She relished giving her body and her obedience to this man she loved. She had long considered women who allowed men power over them to be weak, but now she felt empowered.

  Nothing had prepared her for the sight of Reider’s arousal. She had understood he would join their bodies by putting his manhood inside her, but the sheer size of him made her doubt the possibility.

  Tears of passion wept between her legs. She arched her back when Reider’s finger touched her most secret place. “You are wet for me, my beautiful wife.”

  She heard a murmuring sound. She had made it! Breathing became more difficult and tingling sensations soared through her body. “Reider…Reider…Reider,” she chanted.

  He dipped two fingers inside her and suckled her breast, swirling his tongue over the nipple. She crested a wave of intense longing. She dug her heels into the mattress, raking her fingers along his scalp. “I—” she gulped, the words dying in her throat.

  Reider kissed her, sucking her tongue into his mouth and the sensations became tantalizingly unbearable. “I want to taste you,” he rasped.

  A vague memory of something her mother had told her flitted into her recollection, then Reider’s head was between her legs, licking her intimate folds. She groaned and put her hands on her breasts, squeezing her nipples. She was drowning in a sea of bliss.

  “Come for me, Ragna, that’s it. Come for me again.”

  Her whole body became rigid, yet she felt boneless, as if she floated above the bed. She tried to speak, but strange sounds emerged from her throat. She collapsed into Reider’s strong arms, safe from the storm.

  His deep voice washed over her. “There will be pain at first, but you’re ready now.”

  She moved her head numbly, in a stupor, then gasped when he slid his manhood inside her. It felt hot and thick. He growled and she cried out, without meaning to. “The pain will pass, Ragna. Hold on to me.”

  She grasped his hips, digging her nails into his flesh, falling into the deep, hard rhythm of his thrusts. Soon insistent warmth built within her. She clenched he
r inner muscles on his shaft. It did fit! And felt good—very, very good. She crested another wave of overwhelming pleasure, Reider’s guttural cry of completion filling her heart.

  ~~~

  Warm eddies of pleasure whirled slowly up Reider’s spine. He had collapsed on top of Ragna, exhausted by the overwhelming euphoria of the deepest connection he had ever felt with a woman. Making love with his wife had been as completely satisfying as he had expected—and more. She had carried him to a distant shore where love and passion ruled. The tightness of her sheath had both worried and exhilarated him. Somewhere in the recesses of his scattered thoughts, he vaguely hoped he had not hurt her, and was not crushing her now. He was drooling, but did not care.

  He was surprised when coherent words emerged. “Sorry. I am too heavy.”

  Her fingertips traced patterns on his back, but she only hummed a long sigh of contentment in reply. He slid his arms beneath her back and rolled her over on top of him. Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder, her hair a golden curtain falling about them. He gathered it in both hands and twisted it gently behind her nape, enjoying the silky texture of it on his palms. He kissed her cheek and she licked her lips. She was drooling too!

  He chuckled and her long blonde eyelashes fluttered open. His pik had been softening, but the love he saw in the depths of her blue eyes stirred his interest anew. His heart was so full it made him dizzy.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  She cradled his face in her hands, causing the full weight of her breasts to press against his chest. “There was pain for a moment, but the pleasure was far greater.”

  He felt guardedly smug. “I gave you pleasure then?”

  She kissed his lips. “And will again! Soon I think? I feel you stirring inside me already.”

  “By Freyja, Ragna, I could spend my life with my pik inside your wet heat.”

  She laughed. “People might notice when we leave our chamber!”

  He hugged her tightly. “Ah, that is the secret. We are never leaving here!”