by Jenika Snow
He groaned loudly. “I want you, wife. Need you.”
“Yes, Stian.” Her response was a breathy moan. When she wrapped her arms and legs around him, he removed his arms from around her. Stian ran his finger down the center of her pussy, parting her folds and then pushing the digit inside of her.
“So ready for me, Agata, slick with your need for me.”
“Please,” she whispered. His groan of need filled her with longing. Her inner walls squeezed around his finger that was gently thrusting in and out of her. When he added a second finger, filling her, causing a stab of discomfort to grow inside of her until it morphed into pleasure, she was forced to bite her lip to stop her groan from spilling.
He continued to suck at her nipple, alternating breasts until the flesh felt tender and heated. Slipping his fingers from her body, he gripped her ass, holding her to him as he pressed his cock against her. He mimicked the act of fucking and made her wish they were doing the real thing.
The place in the pool where they stood was shallow enough for Stian to stand, the water just touching his shoulders and giving him enough leverage that he could swivel his hips, press them up and into her so she grew closer and closer to coming. He held her tightly, kept her suspended in the water, and brought her to mind-numbing pleasure.
She wanted to reach down, grip his cock, and shove it deep inside of her, but if she let go of him she’d sink right down to the bottom. He started rubbing the tip of his dick along her folds, parting the lips and driving her insane with desire. It was hard not to twist her hips, trying to lodge the tip of his erection at the opening of her body. He eluded her every time, though. The crest of him teased her clit, causing the tiny bud to engorge even further. Faster and faster he rubbed himself along her folds, skittering along her pussy hole, yet moving away so quickly she wasn’t able to impale herself on him.
His hot breath tickled her ear, and she could hear the carnal need in his breathing. He wanted her, just like she wanted him, but he’d suddenly stopped. She thought of the words in his language to ask what was going on. “You stopped. Why?”
He pulled back and inch and smiled, a deliciously wicked one. She didn’t say anything else, just closed her eyes and absorbed the feel of him pressed up against her. “I’m not an animal, but you will feel good.”
She smiled at his words. His mouth was back on her throat, licking and sucking. He added a little more pressure to her clit with his shaft, and she exploded. Agata rubbed herself on him, riding the high of pleasure. When she came back to reality she opened her eyes and saw Stian watching her with a hungry gaze. She wanted to feel his cock inside of her, but when he pulled back without finishing himself, although she wanted him, she knew they wouldn’t be having sex right now in this oasis.
He smoothed his hand over her cheek, his teeth flashing straight and white as he grinned. “Today you learn to fight and hunt, my little wife.”
Chapter Eleven
Agata held the massive, long and heavy sword Stian had just given to her. It was taking all of her strength to hold onto the big ass thing. He handed her a shield, leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, and this tingling happened inside of her body. How could she fall for someone so quickly, and under these circumstances?
Stian stepped back, grabbed his sword and shield, and they faced each other. Was he seriously doing this, seriously wanting her to fight with him, to learn how to do this? Did she really need to learn how to kill someone if the time came?
Yes. Look at what happened to you since you’ve been here. You need to learn how to defend yourself.
Stian came forward, his movements slow, giving her enough time to prepare. He took a step forward, swung out the sword slowly, and she lifted the piece of metal and blocked him. Of course he’d done it so slow that even if she’d been blindfolded she’d probably been able to block his move.
They did this for several more minutes, Agata growing a little bolder in her actions, a little less hesitant as she met Stian’s sword with her own. Then he suddenly tossed the sword and shield aside, and braced his hands up, as if he wanted to do hand-to-hand combat. She tossed her sword and shield away as well, but before she could counteract his move he was on her, taking her to the ground softly and having a knife to her throat.
He removed the knife from her neck. “Be prepared. They will want to hurt you.” He stood and helped her to stand, but was in fighting stance again. They went at it then, and Agata took it seriously. She’d taken a few self-defense classes, wasn’t helpless, and she was about to show Stian that if it came down to it, even if she couldn’t defeat someone she’d make them work to take her down. He jabbed out with his hand, and she blocked it, lifted her leg and went to kick him in the shin.
He blocked her move, and they danced this way for several seconds, neither getting in a shot, but she had a feeling if he’d really wanted to take her down he’d have done so already. He was trying to help her, teach her how to fight in this world, and it almost seemed a little ironic given the fact he’d captured her in the first place. Wasn’t he afraid that she’d use those move he taught her on him?
Of course not. This man lives by the sword, and probably will die by it as well.
He went to strike her, and she moved back a step and blocked it with her arm. The pressure from the contact of meeting his hand stung, but she was proud that he was trying to take her down and she was holding her own.
For the next half hour they continued to spar, well, as well as she could spar with a man that was as strong as he was smart with his actions. She felt energy move through her, sweat start to bead her brow, and went for a shot to his gut. He moved out of the way at first, but she ducked, took several steps to the side, and landed a hit right in his stomach. He made an oompf sound, and then promptly grinned.
“Good, Agata. Very good.” He came after her again, tackled her to the hard ground, and she wheezed out as the air left her as his big body lay atop hers
For a second they didn’t move, just breathed heavily and stared into each other’s eyes. She leaned up, feeling this strength, which had nothing to do with their fighting, move through her, and kissed him. He groaned, grabbed a chunk of her hair on the side of her head hard enough to make it sting, and kissed her back until her lips felt bruised. When he pulled back she saw fire in his eyes, saw the desire that spoke volumes, and knew he’d be taking her, even if it was out here in the frigid weather. But the funny thing was she was warm, feeling his body heat consume her, and knew that no chill would touch them.
They were breathing hard still, and she was wet, so damn wet. She wore no undergarments, hadn’t since that first bath. She’d since given up on fighting with herself to enjoy this. He was good to her, was helping her learn to fight and defend herself, and she couldn’t help but feel these things for him that went against all common sense. But she didn’t fight it, didn’t even attempt to try to say to herself she didn’t want this.
“Tonight, Agata. Tonight I’ll claim you.” He kissed her again, and she opened her mouth, sucked on his tongue, and loved when he groaned. He was off of her seconds later to her utter disappointment, and helped her to stand.
“You don’t play fair,” she said and smiled when he made this low, uncomfortable sound.
“I can show you how unfair I can be, wife.” The way he said it, all deep and husky, like he’d have no problem showing her right here in the wilderness that he could claim her, had tingling sensations moving through her. “But I’ll let you practice your stance and holding the sword while I prepare the fish.” He turned and went into the hut, and she saw his shadow through the burlap sack that covered the window.
She tried to practice, but the sword was weird in her grasp, and far heavier than anything she’d ever held before. For the next few minutes she swung the sword, envisioning herself being attacked, and hoped she’d be able to protect herself. The sound of a twig snapping far too close for comfort had her stilling. She glanced around, couldn’t see anything but h
er breath coming from her in a white cloud, and when she heard the snap of a twig again, she opened her mouth, and to call for Stian. But the sight of a white cloak had her snapping her mouth.
A middle-aged woman, who was several feet away, gestured for her to come forward. The frantic, panicked expression on the woman’s face had Agata moving toward her instead of going to see Stian and telling him what was going on. She was several feet from the hut, but from her vantage point could see Stian through the window still. The thick bushes concealed the young woman.
“You are Saxon, yes?” the woman asked.
Saxon?
“You speak my language?” Agata asked, and although it was broken up, a little hard to make out, Agata felt this thrill of having someone that she could communicate with fully.
The woman nodded, but looked over her shoulder, her eyes moving back and forth.
“But how?”
The woman faced forward again, closed her eyes, and breathed out. “Years ago, when I was a very young girl, there was a woman that wandered out from the woods. She looked strange, not of our land with the clothing she wore and the color of her skin.” The woman took a deep breath and spoke lower. “I was only four years of age, but one of the village men fell in love with her. He taught her our language, and when no one was looking I would sneak into her hut when the men would go hunting and she’d teach me hers.”
The woman spoke fairly good English, and although some of the words didn’t sound right when she said them, or placed in the right context, it was easy enough to follow.
“What happened to the woman and man?”
The woman shook her head. “The elder was furious that he would take a woman that wasn’t of our kind. There was a decision that she would be cast out, but before they could be called forth they’d disappeared in the night. No one has seen them since.” The woman looked down. “She was very kind, told me to always practice speaking and I would never forget, and I did, always practice.”
Damn, Agata could have asked the “Saxon” where she came from, if that witch woman had brought her here as well. But it seemed like the couple had been smart and had run and never looked back.
“I never spoke of this language to anyone, because I was too afraid.” She looked over her shoulder at the woods. “They will be coming soon.”
“Who?”
“The village men to finish Stian. They don’t feel the elder made the right choice in banishing him after what he did.”
Agata swallowed. “What he did?”
The woman nodded. “He slew his parents,” she said in a soft voice.
Agata felt her eyes widen.
“But he didn’t do it because he enjoyed the kill. He did it because his mother and father hurt him countless times.”
Agata looked over at the hut, saw the big, shadowed body of Stian in the window, and felt her throat close. She remembered all those scars on him, ones that were probably not all from battle. “What?” she asked in a shocked, wavering voice.
The woman couldn’t have been much older than her late forties, but she looked far older with the worry and strain around her eyes.
“He was but a mere child when he took the lives of his parents while they slept. The elders found him the next morning, crying and covered in blood in his hut, his parents dead. He didn’t deny it, and even if we all knew he was abused, it isn’t our custom to get involved.”
Anger the likes of which Agata had never felt filled her. Those bastards had known Stian had been abused, stood by and probably watched it happen, and when that little boy couldn’t take anymore he’d found his solution. She wasn’t about to try to understand this world, but from where she came a child was to be protected.
“He could have been sentenced to death for his crimes—”
“Even as a child, even though he was just protecting himself?” Agata asked outraged.
“Shh, please,” the woman said, then nodded at Agata’s question. “Yes, in our culture anyone that takes a life is subject to death, and now that the elder is dead they’ve come to collect on his life.”
It made no sense to put a child through that when they were abused, condemning them to death when they were in a horrible situation and had no other options, but again, she wasn’t going to try to understand this world or culture. She just wanted to make sure Stian wasn’t alone anymore.
That realization had her motionless for a second, had her stunned, and she felt so strongly about making sure Stian wasn’t alone anymore. Knowing that, knowing that she’d protect him as hard as he’d protected her, made this warmth fill her. Then she heard it, the sound of a horn being blown.
The woman grabbed Agata’s hand, squeezed it tightly, and said in a rushed voice, “You can still run. I can show you to safety.”
Agata shook her head before the other woman could even finish speaking. “I can’t leave him. I can’t run when he could very well die with these heathens coming after him.”
An arrow came flying through the air, and Agata landed on her face, the arrow barely missing her as it slammed in the tree beside her. Breathing out, dirt moving around her face, she grabbed the hilt of the sword that she’d dropped, looked around, and saw the horde of men coming at them. They had axes, swords, knives, and bows and arrows. They were shouting, blowing a horn to clearly tell everyone they were attacking. She turned around to look at Stian, scream for him to get ready for the ambush, but he was already outside, his sword in hand and his arm wrapped around her waist.
“Come, I need to get you to safety,” Stian said and hauled her off the ground. They ran toward the hut, and he pushed her inside. He had a rug pulled up and a trapdoor was on display. “Go. Inside, and take the tunnel all the way to the sea.” He pushed her forward, and before she could tell him she’d stand and fight these assholes he was gone.
Agata still had the sword, but it was bulky, and she saw a hand ax on the table. She picked it up. The handle was long, the blade rusty but sharp, and not as heavy as the sword. This shit as going down whether she fought with him or not, but she wasn’t going to stand back and let Stian go in this alone. She would fight beside him, because for the first time in her life she felt like she belonged somewhere, and she wasn’t about to let that go.
Chapter Twelve
Stian didn’t look back to see if Agata listened to him. She was a stubborn, strong woman, but he needed her to leave and find safety. He could handle these men that thought to come here and take from him. It didn’t matter that he was outnumbered or if he died tonight. He would take out as many as he could, and do so, sure with the serenity in him that his wife had gotten away. There was no doubt that if they killed Stian they’d kill Agata. But before they took her life they’d torture her, rape her, and wouldn’t stop until she no longer breathed.
These men, the villagers he’d grown up with, were cruel to anyone that crossed them, and wasn’t a part of their village. They would consider Agata an outsider. It didn’t matter that Stian had claimed her as his wife, because he’d been banished, and was therefore an outsider, too. But he’d known since the moment they told him to leave that they’d come for him. It was just a matter of when.
He swung his sword with a mighty roar, and sliced the man that came forward right through the middle of the belly. His enemy fell to his knees, looked right at Stian, and started gurgling blood as he cursed him before he took his last breath. The redness spewed from his mouth, covered his chin and chest, but Stian couldn’t take the pleasure in watching him die. The man fell to the ground face first, and Stian started cutting down the attackers.
Left, right, decapitated, a gaping wound through the arm. He attacked with fervor, didn’t stop until blood coated the air in a thick, tangy and metallic scent and flavor. The liquid covered Stian’s chest and face, and as he turned to take out one of the men coming forward the tip of his assailant’s knife sliced through Stian’s cheek.
Stian wiped the blood from his face and moved to take out the second man. Stian stare
d at the body before him, and felt no remorse over taking yet another life. He slowly lifted his gaze away from the corpse, and slid it up his bloodstained legs covered in leather, over his chest, and snarled at the fact he had his enemies’ blood on him.
He curled his hand that didn’t hold his sword into a fist and clenched his jaw. He had only been with his woman for such a short time, but these bastards thought to take her from him. Even faced with this impending battle all he could think about was Agata, praying to the gods that she’d been smart enough to leave, to listen to him.
“Fuck,” he gritted out. He straightened and ran a hand over his face, feeling the mixture of sweat and blood covering his palm.
An arrow came flying through the air, and he lifted his sword and blocked it. He swung his sword with a mighty roar, and sliced it clean through the man that came charging forward. Stian did this over and over again, taking men down that came to strike at him, feeling rage and power move through him. Another body fell to the ground, and another, and another.
Stian loved a good fight, loved the feeling of defending himself, and now the woman he cared for. But Stian should have been prepared, because he’d known they wouldn’t stop if the elder died. He was foolish, and this was his fault, his doing.
A man gave a mighty yell, swung out his ax, intending to take Stian’s head clean off, but Stian was ready. He blocked the ax with his sword, and right when he would have stumbled back from the force the man’s head fell to the ground. Stian stared at the headless body, and lifted his gaze to see Agata standing there, an ax in her hand, and blood sprayed along her body.
He pulled her behind him, and cut down another man coming after him with one mighty swing of his sword. The men around him saw how many he’d taken down, and he would give them more pain, take more of their lives. A few in the distance stopped, looking unsure as they stared at their fallen comrades in arms.