by Lexi Lane
Lovers Lane Publishing
Viking Invasion: Reluctant Virgin Sex Slaves © 2013, Lexi Lane
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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, incidents, locations and places are solely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, including events, organizations, companies, locales, areas and situations is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
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Alek Lindqvist stood in the bow of his longship, watching the still water slicing cleanly away from the narrow prow of his vessel. He was on his way to collect a debt, and one he was looking forward to claiming. It was a girl, a virgin, and she would soon be his.
As the leader of his village, Alek had his choice of women to bed, and did frequently, both to their immense satisfaction and his, but he had yet to marry. He wasn’t ready for that much stability, although a male heir would eventually be necessary. Even though he was chief of his village, at 22, he was not ready to settle down with just one woman.
Every village they plundered along these distant shores gave him the chance to claim the spoils, one of which was taking his pleasure with the captured women brought back to his village. But the village of Guild held a special prize, the young daughter of their chieftain, and he desired her more than anything he’d ever desired in his life.
The steady rowing of his crew had brought them to the shores of this small island fishing village, within half a day’s journey south from his own village. As they rounded the headland, Alek could see the stone huts of Guild clustered near the docks and straggling up a hill toward a small stone castle perched in the heather above the bay. Several small fishing boats were tied up at the docks, the men working on them now stopping to watch the approaching Viking longship.
“Fine day for a raid, Alek.” Alek’s younger brother Eric had materialized at his side. They were so much alike in looks it was like looking at himself in the waters of a still pond, except for the difference in hair. They carried the same facial features; high cheekbones, long straight nose, wide full mouth, clear deep blue eyes. Both were well over six feet, broad shouldered, narrow hipped, with massive thighs. But where Alek was flaxen-haired, the sunlight sending gold sparks from his hair, Eric’s were copper. They caught the sun now, amber and cinnamon mixing with the red.
“Yes, it is, brother. And a fine day to collect on my debt.” Alek turned back to watch the shore. They were nearing the docks; his men were shipping their oars. Eric gave him a roguish smile.
“And will you be sharing that bounty, brother? If you’re lacking in the necessary equipment, I’ve got a longer sword than yours.”
Alek snorted. “That’s not what I hear from the village girls. Your sword may be longer…than my knife…but there are rumors you don’t know what to do with it yet. You need practice.” Alek ducked as Eric took a playful swing at his brother’s head.
“Enough now. We’re here, we need to be on guard. We’ve come to take what is our due.” Men scurried about, tossing ropes, yelling back and forth as the ship slid alongside the dock, the smaller fishing boats bobbing and rocking in the wake of the vessel as it was secured.
A small party of village men had come down the hill from the castle, led by the chieftain of the village, Drest Strome. Alek could see the dull glint of iron weapons at his side and among the men who walked behind him, but he did not see the girl among the group. He sighed; he had hoped this could be accomplished quickly, but if the Picts wanted bloodshed, he would be happy to oblige.
Alek instinctively touched the handle of his knife; he felt Eric do the same. Both wore their longswords in scabbards across their backs and Eric carried his shield.
Jumping down to the dock, Alek drew himself up to his full height, towering over the fishermen on the dock. His steely gaze swept over them and most looked down or moved as far away as they could. He heard the thumps of many feet behind as his men disembarked. Eric was at his left shoulder instantly, whispering in his ear.
“Well, brother, does it look like it’s going to be a simple thing to collect, this debt of yours?” Alek ignored him, stepping forward to greet the chieftain.
“Alek Lindqvist, welcome to our village.” While the chieftain’s words were cordial, there was no smile to match. Alek noticed the tension in the man’s face, at the corners of his mouth and in his eyes. And he also saw the same tension reflected in the faces of the men standing in a tight group behind their chieftain.
“Drest Strome, you know why I am here. Let’s not make this harder than it need be. I am collecting on a debt and I do not see that promise being honored.” Alek’s hand rested on his knife, fingers caressing the familiar feel of iron, cool to his touch.
“We’re not withholding, Lindqvist, only asking you to consider a different form of payment.” Strome stepped aside, revealing a small, plain child of no more than twelve or thirteen, not even really discernible as “boy” or “girl.” The child walked forward slowly, head bowed, and knelt down before Alek.
Alek looked from the child to Strome in anger. “You think me a fool, Strome? This is not the agreed upon payment. Would you have me not kill this child, then I suggest it be removed from my sight immediately and the agreed upon payment produced.” Alek drew his knife, standing over the small form.
“Magda.” Strome spoke quietly and the child rose and fled, small bare feet flying over the stony ground.
“She is my daughter as well. I was hoping…” Strome waved his hand absently in the direction of the child, who had disappeared into a nearby hut.
“Strome, you swore loyalty to me and to my king. You have not kept that oath; you have had visitors to Guild who are my sworn enemies. And now you attempt to trick me with…that…babe. I’ll not have it and I’ll not have you thinking you can get away with this.”
Alek pulled his sword from his scabbard with one swift motion and before Strome could react, Alek ran the double-edged blade through the man’s stomach. The man doubled forward, clutching at the blade. Alek planted his foot on Strome’s shoulder, pushed the man away and pulled his sword free. Strome fell heavily onto his back on the stone path, his hands splayed across his stomach, dark blood flowing between his fingers onto the gray stones beneath him.
After a moment of stunned shock, the villagers behind Strome’s fallen body drew an assortment of swords and knives, apparently ready to fight but hesitant to charge. Alek felt Eric on his left, sword in hand, teeth bared in a grimace, growling deep in his throat. And then Alek heard the beautiful singing sound of many longswords being unsheathed, as the men standing behind him prepared for their leader’s command. In a voice that echoed off the heathered hills, Alek gave his command.
“Find the girl! Kill everyone! Burn the village!” With that, the Vikings spread like the blood flowing from Strome’s body, overtaking the il
l-prepared fishermen, cutting them down where they stood.
The village was routed and looted quickly. Men lay dead and dying on the stony ground, women’s shrieks and cries echoing between the burning huts. Alek made directly for the small castle, quickly dispatching the inhabitants, searching rooms, overturning furniture, setting the wall tapestries on fire as the rest of the villagers fled before him. But he did not find the girl.
Alek emerged into the outer courtyard, breathing hard, scowling at the controlled chaos in the village below. Eric was walking up the path toward him, a streak of blood drying on one cheek, his blue eyes dancing with the heat of the moment.
“Eric, find the girl. She’s not in the castle.”
Eric turned and ran back down the path, shouting to a few Vikings routing the last of the villagers from a large hut. Flames licked the thatches of several buildings. Eric and the others made a quick search of the rest of the village.
Alek heard a high pitched scream followed by cursing from Eric. He watched as Eric emerged from a small stone hut, dragging a protesting girl behind him: Maya Strome, the reason for this raid.
Alek’s breath caught in his throat. He’d forgotten how beautiful Maya Strome was. The oath that Drest Strome had broken had been made almost a year before; either his memory of her had dimmed or she’d grown even more beautiful during that time.
She stood silently before him, her chest heaving with exertion. She tossed her long tangled blonde hair back from her face, her piercing green eyes blazing fury. The force of her beauty, even disheveled and spitting curses, had an immediate physical impact on Alek. He felt a warmth beneath his over-shirt, the first flames of desire kindled deep in his stomach as his cock stirred to life. Everyone knew why he’d chosen Maya, and everyone, including Maya, knew the outcome of this transaction.
“Swine! Filth!” She pulled against Eric’s grasp, her body tensing. Eric held her easily as she struggled in his grip.
Alek took a step forward, lifting Maya’s chin. “Watch your tongue, girl. Show some respect.” He leaned down, kissing her roughly, sliding his tongue over her soft lips, held firmly closed against him.
“You’re mine now.”
As he turned to walk away, she spat at his back. He turned to her.
“Woman, I could leave you here with your kin, if you like.” Alek pulled his short knife from his belt, holding it against her neck.
With surprising calm, Maya spoke. “You will not. You want me too much. I know this…you know this. You won’t kill me.” Her green eyes blazed at Alek. “You want me too much.”
Alek threw his head back, roaring with laughter. He replaced his knife in its sheath. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you, girl.”
With one quick motion Alek grabbed the neckline of Maya’s dress in both hands, tearing the fabric down the center. The tattered garment fell open, hanging from her arms, leaving her naked, the afternoon sunlight shining on the round globes of her breasts, down her flat stomach to the patch of darker blonde hair at the apex of her slender thighs.
A small crowd of Vikings had gathered, eyes crawling hungrily over the lithe body, each imagining their own cocks thrusting into her virgin body, lying between those soft thighs, or holding that fine ass in their hands as they took her from behind, each imagining taking pleasure with her in their own way. But they knew she belonged to Alek and all they could do was look.
“You’re mine, yes, and come to think of it, you’re mine on one condition.” He thrust his hand between her legs, as she squirmed and kicked out at him. Alek moved back.
“Eric, Lars, hold her. I don’t want to damage my prize.”
Eric pulled Maya against his body in a bear hug, her arms pinned to her side, lifting her clear of the ground. The man called Lars moved forward, grabbing her kicking legs, holding them apart.
Alek stepped back toward Maya, slowly running his hand between her legs, the tip of one finger disappearing. She shuddered violently, arms and legs straining against her captors. Alek held his finger there a moment, then pulled his hand away. He slid his finger briefly into his mouth.
“She’s intact. And very sweet.” He took her chin between his fingers, looking down into her eyes. “Very sweet, girl. And soon you’ll be relieved of the burden of being a virgin.”
He caught his brother’s eye. “Take her to the ship. Tie her up well. I don’t want her throwing herself into the sea during the trip home.”
Alek gave a shout, and rest of his men gathered at the docks, some carrying loot from the village.
“Burn the boats and then cast off. We’re headed home.”
***
Maya struggled against the ties that held her wrists and ankles, but they were bound too tightly. She knew she was the trophy of this raid; her father had told her she was the payment for breaking his oath to Lindqvist. And for that, she hated her father, and she certainly hated Lindqvist.
She was lying in the stern of the boat, the men rowing stretched out in front of her. The red-haired bastard had thrown a blanket over her body, stopping first to grope her breasts, tweaking her nipples between his fingers.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Maya Strome. I’m looking forward to sharing you with my brother, when he’s had a chance to break you in. You’re going to make for many a night of pleasure for both of us.” He’d grabbed her by the back of the head, forcing his tongue between her lips in what she supposed passed for a kiss from a barbarian.
Despite the blanket, she still shivered, more from rage than the chill night air.
The flickering fires from the burning boats cast a strange glow over the bay. Maya watched as the last of the boats from Guild sank below the surface of the dark water, the fire reflecting on the calm surface, making a mirror image of each burning vessel. And then they were gone. Her village was a smoldering ruin. Her father…rot his soul…was dead as well. She was alone in the world, captive on a Viking ship.
Growing up, Maya heard the rumors about Vikings: they mated with cattle; they ate small children; their penises were forked at the ends. She thought the first two rumors may be true; she prayed the third was not.
Maya knew her innocence, her virginity, was the reason Lindqvist wanted her. It was what all Vikings wanted, but for some reason he was fixated on her. He wanted to stick his cock into her body, to rut like a boar with a sow. She’d seen animals, and people, mating. It was quick and brief, all heaving and struggling; barbaric. She didn’t know what all the fuss was about.
But Maya did know what her body felt like when she thought about James Fraser. He was a year or so older than she, almost 20, tall and dark haired, the son of Guild’s dock master. She’d watched him working with the other men, stripped to the waist, his muscled arms and shoulders covered with the sweat of a summer’s day. She’d followed him, more than once, as he went to the lake to wash. Hiding behind a tree, she watched him take off his clothes, watched as he stood in the lake, his hands working the soapy lather over his muscular chest, down his flat stomach and then watched in amazement as he slowly washed his cock and balls. Maya’s breath had caught in her throat, her heart fluttering, a spreading warmth filling her body, starting right between her legs, blossoming up into her stomach.
Later, alone in her bed, she’d thought about what she saw, how he slowly caressed himself, stroking his soapy hands down his cock, over and over. She’d watched open mouthed as it grew hard and long. She’d writhed on her narrow bed, hands thrusting between her legs, rubbing the little bud of swollen flesh, as she remembered how he’d stood for several minutes, his hands moving faster over himself, how his body had tensed, his narrow hips thrusting forward and then how, at the very end, he’d tipped his head back, eyes closed, his body shuddering, crying out as his cock jerked in his hand, creamy liquid spurting onto the surface of the lake. Maya played this over and over in her mind, finally triggering her own release, moaning as her hips rose from the bed, her fingers rubbing against herself, imagining it was James there with her, thrusting himse
lf into her body.
If mating was like that, she’d gladly give herself to James. But she didn’t think mating with a Viking was going to be nearly the same.
Darkness had descended upon them before they’d finally set sail. Maya kept her eyes on the tall blonde Viking—Alek Lindqvist—as he strode about the ship, shouting commands, watching as he spoke with his brother, their heads close together, huddled in whispered tones. They broke apart, laughing loudly, and she saw Alek look in her direction, a look of satisfaction on his face.
Besides the full moon, the only light came from the lanterns hanging along the sides of the boat. Alek pulled one down, walking toward her between the rows of rowing men. She watched him hang the lantern on a nearby peg, the soft light casting his angular face into shadows. He knelt down in front of her.
“Well, girl. I think it’s time we get to know each other.” With one swift movement, Alek pulled the blanket back, exposing Maya in her tattered dress. It had slid down both arms, uselessly pooled beneath her.
Maya sat still, watching the barbarian as his blue eyes, almost black in the dim light, slid over her body. He ran his tongue over his lips as he reached out for one breast. But rather than grope as his brother did, he ran his hand softly over her skin, his fingertips barely touching her. The feeling was surprising and, despite herself, Maya shivered. She looked down as his fingers traced a slow circle around her nipple, watched in amazement as the nipple puckered, drawing up tight and hard on its own, goose bumps suddenly springing up on her flesh.
“Well, it seems you’re not immune to my touch.” She looked up at Alek; saw his eyes bright, his breath coming fast between parted lips. In one quick gesture, he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her roughly to her knees. One hand slid down to cup her ass as he bent forward, sucking her breast into his mouth, his tongue swirling over her hard and sensitive nipple. She cried out in surprise, and in pleasure.