by James, Elle
Sensations multiplied like the waves on the sea. They rolled together in the tumult of their coupling. Her breaths came shallow and quick. The dusk of her cheeks reddened.
“No. No,” she said, her head thrashing side to side. “Oh. Yes. Oh. It feels—”
Kroan clamped his mouth over her incoherent, and far too boisterous, ramblings.
A fresh wave of moisture bathed his cock. Her muffled keen filled his ears and pulled him into the undertow. He suffocated in ecstasy, in Shîrîn, spilling his seed into her womb. The possibility of making a baby with his wife revived and renewed him.
“Darling, Shîrîn, you are more exquisite than I imagined,” he said, brushing damp strands of hair from the side her of face.
“You thought of me while away?”
“You were with me always.”
“And I will be from now until the end of our days,” she said softly.
As his lust retreated, he met her dreamy gaze. “I dread taking you from your home. From this life you’ve made for yourself. I have only a boat and what wealth I’ve earned to share with you.”
Her soft hands bracketed his cheeks. “You are my home, Kroan. We will find our way together.” She glanced around her tent. “If I can bring silk and thread…”
He smiled. “Bring it all. We’ll sell what you do not use.”
A dark brow winged upward. “I am quite good at haggling. I will be useful.”
“You continue to bargain?”
“I will be your shadow until we sail. I won’t allow you to leave without me.”
“You do know I am twice your size.”
“And you know I am quite relentless,” she said, her small hand encircling his cock.
With a laugh, he kissed her, filled to the brim with joy at his good fortune.
Little Warrior
Evey Brett
The coast of Dorsetshire, 981 AD
I was up on the cliffs with my sister when the Northmen came.
From our vantage point, we could see the single-sailed boat with the prow carved into the head of a fantastic beast. Oars were on either side and shields lined the rails. At the head of the craft stood a man who had to be Sweyn, their leader. The sun glinted on the sword hung at his hip and the two golden braids on either side of his face. My heart pounded with excitement at the sight. He was the most fantastic creature I’d seen.
Beside me, my sister shuddered. “I can’t believe my father promised me to him.”
I couldn’t either. Ethelfleda was a timid creature, more content to stay in her rooms sewing or singing. Much to my father’s dismay, I loved the outdoors and the wildness and would have accompanied him hunting if he’d allowed it. I longed to travel, not stay home and be a good wife to whatever noble he decided was my mate. “I want to talk to them.”
“Come away, Ailith.” Ethelfleda tugged on my sleeve. “You know what Father said. We’re not to have anything to do with them until the feast.”
Father had arranged to meet with these visitors to open trade negotiations, but I knew Ethelfleda was thinking of the terrible stories about what they did to women and anyone who opposed them. Our tutor, a man who’d escaped slavery from the Northmen, had been hired to teach their language to Ethelfleda and I. During our lessons, he’d shown us the scars from his beatings and told us tales of what had happened to disobedient slaves. And yet, I was more afraid of being trapped in my father’s keep the rest of my life than of these wandering brutes.
I followed my sister for a short way then, when she wasn’t looking, doubled back, heading for the thin trail leading down the cliff to the beach. My skirt whipped around my legs as I strode toward my sister’s intended husband. Up close, he was huge, tall, broad-shouldered, and more daunting than any of my kinsmen. The entire party, no more than eight, paused at the sight of me. I bowed then said clearly, “I, Ailith, daughter of King Aelfraed, greet you in his name. Please be welcome in our land.”
“The king sends a mere girl to greet us?” one of the lesser men said, elbowing one of his friends. “She’s not even pretty.”
“Do you deny a woman’s right to welcome a man into her home?” This, to my surprise, came from a woman. Now that I looked, I saw two of them among the company, both armed like their male companions and as equally fierce. I’d heard tales of shieldmaidens but had never expected to meet any.
“Enough,” Sweyn said. He waved a hand and his jostling warriors fell silent. “Where is your father, child? It’s he we’ve come to speak with.”
I bristled. I was well into womanhood and did not like being belittled, even by a man so handsome as this. No doubt I would have answered sharply were it not for the hoofbeats sounding behind me as my father and his guards rode up. One glare was all it took for him to convey his fury that I, not he, had been the first to greet the visitors. At his gesture, one of the guards swept me up and carried me on horseback all the way back to the keep. I didn’t protest. I’d gotten Sweyn’s attention.
*
The feast was interminable. Sweyn and Ethelfleda sat next to each other, but no matter how the warrior tried to be kind to her, she shuddered and drew away, refusing to even look at him. I was seated on my father’s other side, too far away to speak to any of our guests. I’m sure he planned it that way. I’d embarrassed him, and he was doing everything short of punishing me to let me know it.
Except for Ethelfleda’s reticence, Sweyn and his people seemed to be enjoying themselves. The wine flowed, and a boar had been slaughtered and roasted. His men jostled each other and partook of the meal using their knives and intricately carved spoons made from horn.
The two women appeared more feminine now, dressed in linen blouses and flowing blue skirts. Silver and amber jewelry draped their necks and wrists. They were beautiful but likely no less deadly in this incarnation. I wished I had such presence as they.
Just as the entertainment started, Ethelfleda made some excuse and left the table. Everyone’s gaze followed her.
“Worry not. She’ll come around,” my father said, although I didn’t think either he or Sweyn looked convinced.
The two shieldmaidens bent their heads together, whispering.
I leaned over. “Father, I would be happy to—”
“Not now. Sweyn and I have a great deal to discuss. See to your sister. Talk some sense into her. I can’t have these negotiations fail.”
Angrily, I stalked up the stairs to Ethelfleda’s room. Her maid was already tending to her, brushing her long hair until it shone. When I entered, the maid bowed and left, handing me the brush.
Ethelfleda didn’t bother to hide her tears as I took the maid’s place. “I can’t marry him. I can’t. I’ll throw myself from the tower first.”
I found it hard to sympathize. We’d both grown up knowing we wouldn’t be able to choose our husbands, and I failed to see what was so terrible about a man so handsome, rich, and kind. Sweyn was also near our age, unlike some of the suitors Father had considered before who’d been old enough to be our grandsires.
Ethelfleda twisted around to face me. She gripped my hand with fingers like iron. “Please. Intervene for me. Speak with father. You have the adventurous soul.”
I’d already tried and failed on that account, but I didn’t say so. “I’ll do what I can,” I promised.
Much as I wanted to, I didn’t go back to the feast. Let Father think I kept Ethelfleda company. I had plans for later that night.
*
Gyrid, one of the shieldmaidens guarded Sweyn’s room. The torch left her face shadowed, but I admired her sharp, chiseled features and the ropy muscles in her arms. Her eyes narrowed at my approach. “What do you want?”
“I’ve come to speak with Sweyn on Ethelfleda’s behalf.”
“Does your father know?” She crossed her arms and stared.
I met her gaze and kept it. “No. I came of my own accord.”
She laughed. The sound drew Gunhilda out of the next room. “Ah. It’s the plucky sister.”
>
I clenched my fists. I had enough teasing from my sister and didn’t need it from two women I admired. “Will you let me see him or not?”
“And you’re sure it’s only speech you’re seeking?” Gyrid’s pointed gaze raked me up and down. “A young, unmarried woman sneaking around at night only has one thing on her mind. Go back to your room, child. You don’t have the stamina for a man such as my brother.”
Heat flared in my face, and I was grateful for the lack of light to hide my embarrassment. I turned to go when Gunhilda caught my arm and asked, “What’s this?”
I couldn’t see the mark she was pointing to on my shoulder, but I knew what she meant. “I’ve had it since birth.”
“It looks like a tree. Don’t you think so, Gyrid?”
She went behind me to look and traced the mark with her finger. “Definitely.” Coming in front of me again, she asked, “Do you have any sacred trees near here?”
I shrugged. “Not sacred, but a single ash tree grows upon a tor near here.” I wondered why they were so interested.
The two women exchanged a glance I could not decipher. “Come,” Gyrid said. “Gunhilda will join us shortly.”
Inside, the room had been made comfortable. The women had a fine collection of swords, knives, and shields, all displayed prominently and within easy reach. There were other niceties—braziers full of incense, combs and bottles of scent. They might be warriors, but they had not forsaken femininity.
I was nervous at being alone with her. “Are you sisters?” I asked, as much to hide my nervousness as because I was curious.
She laughed. “Sisters in battle but not by blood.” She cupped my cheek in her palm. “You are not as pretty as your sister, but no matter. We will make do.”
The words stung, but they were no more than the truth. Ethelfleda had inherited Mother’s softness and delicate features. I’d taken after my father, tall and rugged.
“Have you ever known a man?”
My father had kept me so pent up I wasn’t allowed to be alone with a man, whether servant, tutor, or guard. My maid had lain with men and told me things, so I wasn’t entirely naïve, but I didn’t dare to lie. “No.”
“Thought so. How did you think you’d be able to pleasure Sweyn if you don’t even know what pleasure is?”
I gazed downward, unable to answer. All thought of tempting Sweyn into ruining me, and therefore forcing a marriage, fell to pieces.
Tilting her head, Gyrid touched her lips to mine. The touch sent a tingle through me. This was no sisterly kiss, but something hinting at more. I didn’t draw away. I took in the scent of her skin, warm and fresh from bathing, and was overcome by a sudden, indescribable need.
I didn’t notice Gunhilda slip in until she wrapped her arms around my waist and tucked her firm body behind mine. Without speaking, the two women worked as one, untying the laces on my dress then pulling it over my head. I stood there in my shift, trembling despite my determination not to be afraid.
“What’s wrong, little warrior?” Gyrid kissed my cheek, my neck, and down the slope of my shoulder. “We won’t hurt you. Quite the opposite.”
“Indeed.” Gunhilda drew off my shift.
I shivered in the sudden chill, but her body warmed me as she embraced me from behind. She cradled my breasts in her hands and I froze, shocked by the presumption.
“These people are such prudes. So afraid to feel something good,” she said.
“Mmm,” was Gyrid’s only reply. Her fingers found that private place between my legs. I flinched, but Gunhilda held me too tightly for escape. Gyrid’s gentle fingers probed me, rubbing at tender parts I’d never dared to touch, until I squirmed from the tingling discomfort.
Gunhilda drew me backwards until she sat on a stool and I on her lap. She continued to massage my breasts while Gyrid forced my legs on either side of Gunhilda’s and knelt. The kiss she placed upon my nether regions sent a shudder through my entire body. Wetness coated me, only to be lapped up by Gyrid’s eager tongue. I wriggled, unsure how do deal with the building pressure in my lower body, but Gunhilda held me fast and made my head swim with kisses on my cheek and neck. She pinched my nipples until they were tender and sore, adding another layer of sensation.
I whimpered and dug my nails into Gunhilda’s arm. Gyrid didn’t stop; she kept licking a particularly sensitive spot until I could hold back no longer. My body clenched and burst forth in a series of spasms so sharp and delightful they left me breathless.
For several breaths, I lolled against Gunhilda, dazed by the aftermath. “Sweyn can do that?”
“All that and more,” Gunhilda said with such satisfaction that I knew she’d lain with him and enjoyed it.
Gyrid guided me over to the bed then pushed me down. “A man will do something else. You know that.”
I nodded, although I didn’t know the details.
Drawing my legs apart once more, she fingered me there. I trembled, but Gunhilda sat beside me and stroked my cheek. “Breathe. There’s nothing to fear and everything to savor.” She whispered to me, telling me things of such a coarse and intimate nature I couldn’t help but blush.
And all the while, Gyrid stroked me until I’d lost all shame at being exposed and gave myself over to the pleasure. When she slipped one finger inside me, I hardly noticed. At the addition of another, I murmured in appreciation. Three, and I’d grown tense again, but Gunhilda smothered me with kisses to allay the discomfort below.
Gyrid thrust her fingers in and out, slowly at first then with increasing speed, mimicking what Sweyn was apt to do. Pressure built inside my belly as it had before, but deeper. Climax erupted in steady, aching waves. Any cry I tried to make was swallowed when Gunhilda covered my lips with hers.
So spent was I that they both had to help me dress. I felt entirely different. New. Shorn of all I’d once been and ready for the next step.
“In the morning,” Gyrid said, “we will ride out with Sweyn. Take my brother to see the ash tree you spoke of. You will have your chance to impress him then.”
I nodded, both exhausted and perplexed by the request. “I’ll do my best.”
The kiss she laid upon my forehead was filled with love and tenderness. “I’m sure you will, little warrior.”
*
“Well?” Ethelfleda asked when I returned to her room.
I took her hand, marveling at how soft and fragile it seemed after being with the shieldmaidens. I wondered how it was possible she did not notice the difference in me. “Don’t worry. I have it all in hand.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Ailith. Thank you.”
The kiss on my cheek was wet and cold, but I did not tell her so. I was too eager to reach my bed and recount every touch laid upon me by the shieldmaidens in preparation for meeting Sweyn.
*
My father wasn’t keen to let me ride out with Sweyn and show him our lands, but neither did he want to deny his honored guest’s request. When he tried to include my sister in the party, Ethelfleda pleaded illness and asked not to be disturbed. Gyrid and Gunhilda assured him they would be along to keep an eye on me and wouldn’t let anything untoward happen. I kept my gaze on the ground, unable to meet my father’s look of concern. He had no idea of the true reason behind this journey, and I wasn’t going to enlighten him.
It was a fine spring morning when we rode out, cool and misty. The horses snorted and pranced in the dew-laden grass. We passed through the village which nestled in the keep’s shadow. I was used to the deference paid me, due to my father’s rank, but when I rode by with the northerners, the people gaped and stared. A few children ran up to openly gawk at my companions, and Sweyn patiently allowed them to touch his fine leather boots and fur cloak. My father usually had no time for such niceties, and it warmed my heart to see Sweyn being kind in a village he so easily could have burned to the ground.
For a while, I did as my father had expected, showing them my favorite places, including the pond where I’d caugh
t frogs and salamanders and the woods where my father hunted deer and boar.
A hawk flew overhead, and Sweyn watched it with interest.
We came at last to Roald’s Tor, a hill of rock bare save for a few large boulders and an ash tree jutting from the center. I was both surprised to find that no one had accompanied us to the summit. The shieldmaidens waited nearby within easy reach, but they made no move to join us.
A pair of ravens croaked from the branches. Sweyn looked up and grinned. “Odin blesses this meeting.”
Some of my anxiety lessened. “I’m glad, my lord.”
He caught me around the waist and pulled me to him, back to his chest. His hands were large enough that if he put both around my waist, he could enclose it. “My sister tells me you’re quite the little warrior.”
“I’ve little training as such, but my heart longs for the sea and distant lands.” I tried not to sound pleading, but I probably did. “I am no tame woman to be kept inside for the rest of my life.”
“No, I don’t think you are.” One of his hands roved to my belly. That queer tingling began between my legs, and I wished he were brazen enough to touch me there. “I need a wife to bear me strong sons and daughters. Do you think Ethelfleda is up to the task?”
I didn’t like to demean my sister. I loved her, but I daren’t speak anything but the truth. “No, my lord. She belongs to this land. Any attempt to take her from it would end her life.” I wriggled a little, pleased to feel the growing bulge within his breeches. “I would be pleased to provide you with sons.”
He drew down the shoulder of my dress and traced the birthmark. “Your father could slay me for dishonoring his daughter. I would do the same to anyone who dared lay a hand on mine.”
I twisted around to face him and fingered his rough blond beard. “He won’t. He’s afraid to risk war with your people. There is too much for us to lose. Besides, it’s I who am asking you.”
He had not worn armor today, which allowed me to place my palms against his chest and breathe in the scent of salt and sweat. I felt the heat and firmness through the woolen tunic and was suddenly desperate to touch his bare skin. Impishly, I reached beneath the hem and he rewarded me by undoing his leather belt so I could reach all the way up to his belly and savor the warmth. I had not realized how cold my hands were until he shivered and covered them with his own.