by Jenika Snow
“Stian.” He straightened, proud of who he was, despite the hatred and fear others thought of him in the village. “Stian.” He pounded on his chest with his fist.
“Stian,” she spoke softly again.
“Stian, já.”
She gave him a smile, and the sight had the male part of him rising up and wanting to take her right here. But he wouldn’t rut between her thighs like an animal, no matter how much he wanted to right now. He’d let her grow comfortable with him, make her comfortable with his touch, yearn for it even, before he slid his cock into her body.
He pushed her hand away, looking at the way her full breasts pressed against the strange looking clothing she wore. He picked at the fabric, felt the texture between his fingers, and wanted to tear it off.
“Lauga,” he said, needing her to be cleaned before he touched her in the way he wanted. He stood, looked down at her for a second, and let her look at the way she had his cock hard. Just looking at her, smelling her, had his shaft pressing uncomfortably tight against his leathers. Her eyes widened, and he grinned, knowing that she had to be frightened of his size.
Stian was a large man, a reason why he’d gotten the name “Beast” from the other villagers. His cock was no different in the size department. He’d need her stretched, primed and ready for when he took her for the first time.
But Stian had self-control, had patience, and he forced himself to move away. He collected the bathing supplies: basin, buckets of water, and cloth. They needed to clean, needed to eat, and then he’d lie with her, touch her, and make her crave him. He may have kept her for his own, clearly against her will, but he’d never take her sexually, never force himself into her. He wasn’t a good man. He was a warrior, a killer, and always took what he wanted. He’d raided, pillaged, and plundered after he’d been banished, and although he lived a somewhat solitary life anymore, he was still very much a warrior.
Once the water was heated and he had it in the basin, he faced her and gestured for her to come forward. “Agata, koma, konna.” He gestured for her to come to him. He would bathe her, see her nude form, and make her clean for him. Then they would eat, and he’d show her that although he was hardened he’d be gentle … he could be gentle.
She took a few moments to move off the pallet, but when she was close enough to him that he could touch her he crouched in front of her and removed the chain. From his knees he looked up at her, saw that she watched him hesitantly, withdrawn almost. She’d warm up to him, come to trust him and need him. She’d soon realize that he was the one that could provide for her, would always provide for her and keep her safe.
He slowly stood, kept his hands on her waist, and looked down at her mouth. Her lips were parted, red and slightly wet from when she licked them. Her white, little teeth started to tug at her bottom lip. He cupped her cheek, felt her body retreat slightly, but then something snapped in her eyes and she relaxed.
“This is freaking insane,” she said under her breath. She said in her strange language, almost as if she spoke to herself as she was not looking at him, and finally glanced at the basin. For a moment she just stared at it, then closed her eyes. He could see she was trying to build up her strength, and he couldn’t help but feel pride that his woman was strong.
“I don’t think we’re at that point in our relationship where I’m comfortable getting naked for you and letting you see my rolls.”
He watched her, let her speak her strange and foreign language, and started removing his clothing. Her eyes widened, and she moved back a step. He let her though, let her retreat this one small space. He removed his leathers and boots, tossed them aside, and stood before her naked. She looked at his chest, moved lower yet, and when she looked at his cock her eyes widened and her mouth parted.
“You’re uncut … and so hard.”
His dick jerked with every second she looked at him.
“God, you’re huge.” She slowly lifted her gaze to his face, and he watched as her pulse beat faster and harder at the base of her throat.
He shook his head slowly, reminding her that if she was speaking to him he couldn’t understand anything she said. He could have been crude and lewd, grabbing himself and stroking off until he came right in front of her. But he didn’t want to be a bastard. He wanted her to grow to want him, desire him, and because of that he’d have to channel his patience in all things when it came to his new, young wife.
He held his hand out, and she eyed it. She shook her head, lowered her gaze to the ground, mouthed something soft and low, and his annoyance over her reluctance grew. But when she exhaled roughly and moved closer, he made himself calm. She placed a hand in his, and he pulled her closer. Tonight they’d bathe together as husband and wife, even if it wasn’t an officiated union. She was his. He wasn’t letting her go, and for Stian that was all he needed to have his claim on her.
Chapter Four
Agata stared at the man in front of her, all hard, scarred, and defined muscles. He was so big … everywhere. She swallowed, not feeling confident that she could act like she wanted this even though she wanted to run away. He aroused her. There was no doubt about it. He was an attractive man in a brutal, “he’d kill someone with his bare hands” kind of way. But despite the fact she’d never seen a man in the flesh that looked like that and who wanted her, she also knew she couldn’t stay here.
Agata wasn’t about to entertain the idea that whatever potion that old woman had given her had somehow transferred her to this In-Between world, to this alternate dimension. That was too farfetched, too unbelievable for her.
The truth was she was probably taken after she passed out at the festival, drugged by the old bitch, and sold like cattle. But who in the hell wanted to live like this, isolated from everyone else, and acting as if they were trapped in the age of the Vikings? She needed to find someone that spoke English, or at least a dialect of Norwegian she could understand.
“Konna, jeg vil lauga deg minn.” He pulled her closer to his nude form, and she swallowed when her gaze dropped down to his cock again. God, this man was monstrous in the nether region. He was also uncut, and although she wasn’t a virgin, she felt like one in this instance.
She’d never been with a man uncircumcised, never even seen one in movies. Maybe she was a prude in most cases, but this man looked like he’d tear her in two if he tried shoving that thing inside of her. Agata was frozen in place when he started slipping off her blouse, and although this was not something she should be allowing, a fire started inside of her when he’d touched her.
The shirt was now gone, and he started undoing her pants. When those were removed he stared at her in her bra and panties, this string of words leaving him and confusion covering his face. He picked at her bra, ran his fingers over the underwire, and did the same to the lace at the top of her underwear. These weren’t even her good undergarments, yet he was heating her further with every stroke of his finger along her flesh.
He then removed her bra one strap at a time. Her breasts sprang free as soon as the wire and fabric didn’t constrict them anymore. She was a bigger girl, thick and curvy, and a healthy size sixteen. She’d always loved her body, even if society and some of her boyfriends hadn’t cared for the larger frame she sported. But this man was staring at her like he wanted all of her, wanted to caress her curves and bumps with every part of his body.
His cock seemed to grow bigger, if that was even possible, and she licked her lips and tore her gaze from his cock. His blue eyes were trained right on her, intense, demanding, controlling. He cupped a breast, and she knew she should have slapped him, maybe kicked him in the dick, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.
“Agata, du er veldig falleg.”
The way he said her name, spoke in that thickly accented, strange Scandinavian language, turned her on. She wasn’t even going to lie or deny it. She was wet right now, her nipples hard, and her body feeling hot.
Keep your mind intact, girl!
She’
d play the part, but she wouldn’t succumb inside. She pushed her panties down, held her back straight, and let him look his fill … which he most certainly did. She felt her strength in this matter grow, and she smiled sweetly, leaned in, and watched the guarded expression cross his face. Good, he should be on the defense, because she wasn’t going to stand here and let him claim her like a barbarian in the middle ages.
“You’ll never have me, not really.” She spoke softly, gently, knowing he didn’t understand her. “I won’t make this easy on you either.” She added a little moan on the end. His nostrils flared, and she thought maybe she’d gotten a little jab at him even if he didn’t know what she’d said. This man could read people—that was clear by the intelligence reflected in his blue gaze. He didn’t speak English, or the dialect of Norwegian that she knew, but he could “read” her.
“Konna, eg er ingen heimskr.” He leaned back, had his hands on her waist in a matter of seconds, and before she could process what was happening he lifted her in the air.
She cried out in surprise and braced her hands on his shoulder to balance herself. He had her in the tub seconds later. Agata was taken so off guard that she slipped, and before she fell into the tiny thing and probably injured something else he had her braced against the hardness of his body.
She had her hands on his pecs, felt the strength that came from him, and looked down to see the intricately woven tattoos on his flesh. The symbols were sharp lines, twisting and curving around the definition of his muscles. She could have gotten lost in those designs, lost in this man that made her feel these dark, wrong desires.
Agata pulled away from him and promptly sat in the water, trying to cover herself up. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and stared up at him. He went over to the table and grabbed a basin of steaming water. She stared at his back, and the lash marks crisscrossing his tanned, toned flesh, and wondered who had done that to him. But despite her better judgment she found herself lowering her gaze along the tattoos, and lower still until she stared at his ass. God, she’d never been one to appreciate the male ass, but Stian certainly had one that was chiseled out of marble.
When he turned back around with the basin in hand she looked up at him, feeling her cheeks heat with the thought he’d seen her checking him out. Turning her head away from him when he smirked, she grew pissed, so angry that she was helpless right now. He bent down, and she felt her eyes widen and straightened her back when he reached in the tub and grabbed for a cloth. Smacking his hand away when he brushed along her thigh, she grabbed he cloth from him.
“I can wash myself.” This was not what she wanted, being bathed by a barbarian, but she also couldn’t deny the warm water and oils he’d put into the water made her feel semi-human again. He let out a gruff noise, but did give her the rag.
She turned her back to him, looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes, and cursed under her breath. Yeah, she’d said she would try and play along, but that was harder than she thought. One side of her wanted to just give in and play the part, think of a way to escape, but then another part said she should never relent toward this man that was holding her prisoner. He’d chained her up like he owned her or something, and she wouldn’t submit to him.
After she finished washing herself and hiding her body as much as she could, she looked at him again and saw him staring at her with a blank expression, His eyes were so blue, so penetrating, that she felt bared in not just the literal sense, but the figurative as well.
She told herself that being shy around this man needed to be eradicated, because he clearly didn’t care about his nudity. He was still so hard, so aroused, and she forced herself not to look, not to ogle like a damn pervert of a captive lusting after her captor. No, she wouldn’t go down that route.
Grabbing the longer cloth he handed her, she rose from the tub and covered her breasts and mound with the cloth. It was thicker, slightly scratchy, and as she rubbed her body dry right before wrapping it around her, she kept her focus on the wooden planked floor.
He started speaking in his language, and although she found it fascinating and beautiful she also grew frustrated.
“I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying.” She found the humor in the fact she couldn’t understand him, yet she answered him in frustration knowing he couldn’t answer her. Closing her eyes and trying to gain her strength and a semblance of calm, she fought with herself over what was the right thing she should be doing right now.
Getting out of the tub, she moved quickly to the corner of the room where the pallet she’d slept on the night before was. Stian stared at her for a long moment, the moved over to the basin of water and climbed in. He looked ridiculous in the small thing given the fact he was huge. She couldn’t help but watch, couldn’t but help look at the beads of water trailing down the hard muscles of his abdomen. He was built like a tank, indestructible and deadly.
“Konna, ser på meg barenteg gjør meg sárþarfnast du mer.” When he turned just his head, looked at her over his shoulder, and his blue gaze pierced her, she felt a chill of cold air move through her.
For the next ten minutes she got dressed when his back was toward her, picking up the articles of clothing he’d tossed on the pallet when she’d been in the basin and cleaning off. The clothes were loose, but there was a leather tie or strap of some sort.
When she had the cream colored shift on she tied the leather strap around her waist. Looking back at him, she saw he was facing her now. She wore no undergarments, and her nipples got hard at the fact he was stroking himself. What a fucking pig. Yet the desire coursed through her violently like a tempting serpent, weaving its way through her erogenous zones and making her feel ashamed she felt this.
He finished cleaning himself off, stroking himself until there was no filth left on his body, and only the golden, hard male flesh was revealed. Once out of the water and dressed in a pair of suede looking pants with leather ties in the front, he moved over to the table and started back in on the fish.
He held up a finished fillet, pointed his knife to it, and said in a deeply thick voice, “Fiskr.” He pointed the knife to the fish.
She licked her lips and nodded. “Fish. Yeah, I see that.”
For a moment he didn’t say anything, but then he slapped the fish on the wooden table and pointed the knife at the crudely made bench off to the side.
“Eta.”
She could assume what he’d said. Eat. He wanted her to eat the fish. She was hungry, so she went over to the bench and sat down, keeping her gaze locked on him as he cooked the fish on the open fire until the scent was sweet and slightly salty, and made her stomach growl in hunger.
He brought the cooked fillets to her, offered her the meat on a bone plate, and she curled her lip slightly at the fact it looked like a hollowed femur of a large creature. She took the offered meal, glanced at Stian, and waited until he started to eat his portion.
“Thanks,” she whispered softly, not knowing why she was grateful for anything this man gave her.
For the next twenty minutes they ate in silence, the sound of the fire crackling right in front of them seeming overly loud, and the feel of Stian watching her a little unnerving. Once finished he took their plates and lifted her up. She was forced to brace her hands on his chest for support, smelled the clean, crisp scent of his body invade her senses, and pulled away. Or at least she tried.
Stian grabbed her wrists and led her over to the pallet. She struggled when he tried to pull her down on it, but he was so much stronger than she was. When they were both lying down, her back to his chest, and his very pronounced erection digging in the small of her back, she squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her thighs together.
The sound of him inhaling at the top of her head seemed loud, and she thought about other things, about things that were not of this situation, of this nightmare. She pictured herself back home, alone and safe in her home. It was a nice thought, a nice desire, but there
was no escaping this reality.
Chapter Five
Stian inhaled from Agata’s delicious smelling hair. It was a combination of the Locca flowers he’d picked early in the year and dried, but also her own natural aroma. She was plush and soft in all the right places that a man could appreciate. The firelight and his body warmed her skin, and he rose up on his elbow and looked down at her form.
Her generous breasts could be seen through the thin material of the shift he’d made for her. The way her nipples protruded through the fabric told him that although she was trying to go against him and everything he was, she was aroused. He smoothed a hand down her side and saw the way her breathing increased and her hands tightened in the hides beneath her.
“I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you,” he said, and lowered his head and inhaled again at the base of her throat. She was tense beside him, tried to move away an inch, but he tightened his hold on her waist, and pulled her snugly against his body. He was hard, so fucking hard his balls ached and he yearned to bury his cock inside her lush little body.
“Please, this isn’t right. This isn’t what I want,” she said in a soft, breathy voice. She tried to remove his hand from her waist, but she put no strength behind it. He didn’t know what she’d said, but he could assume she was telling him that she didn’t want this. She might say that, fight him to a point, too, but he also picked up on the little movements she made, as if she were trying to refrain from letting go and letting him touch her the way he wanted. He pushed her hand out of the way and continued to slide it along the slope of her waist, moving his palm forward until he placed it right on her mound.
She was hot, scorching even, and his cock gave a mighty jerk. He’d put leather back on, and only did so because it would help his desires be cooled off slightly. He didn’t want to frighten her, but have her get used to the feeling of him touching her. Moving his hand lower until he cupped her pussy, the only thing blocking him from her bare heat and flesh was the fabric of her shift. He rubbed her, touched her in a way that had her ass pressed right up against his cock, and had her murmuring things in a soft, breathy voice.