Delivering Kadlin

by Gabrielle Holly

  Even if Kadlin could escape her fate, she wouldn’t be able to go back to her home, such as it was. She felt like a boat without anchor or sail. She couldn’t go backward, and she loathed going forward. Despair crashed over her and settled like a millstone on her chest.

  The Viking snorted and rolled on his side. Kadlin hugged her knees to her chest and bowed her head, as if making herself small would rein in her galloping thoughts. She looked up to the heavens again and prayed to Freya, or whichever goddess was aware of this insignificant little piece of chattel huddled in a forest clearing. Each breath seemed a struggle as the reality of her future constricted her breast.

  The rim of the great sky bowl began to glow with the first hint of dawn. The birds would stir soon, singing their morning song, and the Viking would wake and they would continue this awful trek. They would complete the last leg of the journey that would bring her to her dismal future.

  Over Kadlin’s shoulder, the horses huffed quietly in their sleep. They would rouse soon as well.

  A shuffling sound at the edge of the clearing drew her attention. She turned and saw an enormous, snow-white buck staring at her. She held her breath, waiting for the beautiful beast to startle and crash back into the forest. Instead, the deer bowed its head as if moving to graze, but his shiny black eyes remained fixed on Kadlin. Perched upon one great antler was a huge black raven, and Kadlin immediately recognized the omen.

  “Freya,” Kadlin whispered. The raven spread out its wings.

  Kadlin stared in rapt attention. The goddess had been watching over her. The stag stepped into the clearing and walked the perimeter stopping at the head of the trail that had brought them in. The raven turned on the antlers to face Kadlin and opened its wings again.

  Kadlin rose, not bothering to look back at the sleeping Viking. She was bolstered by the courage that came from having the goddess lead her. She quietly approached the horses, calmly this time, and Bjorn’s horse did not startle. He leaned his broad forehead into Kadlin’s hand when she reached up to stroke him. She untied the two horses and mounted the Viking’s then walked the them slowly up the trail, following behind the stag. The great animal turned onto a hidden path, and Kadlin followed. The raven cawed, spread its wings then flew off. The sky lightened, and the birds began to sing. Kadlin tapped her heels against the horse’s sides.

  She brought Bjorn’s big mount to a trot. She didn’t dare go much faster without a saddle. Her cantankerous pony trotted to her right, occasionally tossing his head against the lead. The stag suddenly charged into the underbrush, leaving Kadlin alone on the narrowing path.

  Her body tensed. She didn’t know where she was going or what she would do when she got there—wherever “there” was. How would she eat? What would she drink? She had been heading away from the stream.

  Kadlin squeezed her thighs against her mount and straightened her spine. The big horse must have felt her demeanor change because he began to toss his head. It seemed the birds were now trilling from every branch. Bjorn would have woken by now and found her gone, and she had barely covered any ground. She knew he couldn’t outrun a horse, but she’d feel much better if she put some distance between her and the Viking.

  The brush closed in, and she had to let out the rope that was attached to her pony so he could follow behind. The twittering of the birds reached a crescendo, and the sharp sounds made Kadlin’s skin prickle.

  A birdsong like none she’d ever heard cut through the din. Three staccato chirps followed by a drawn-out note caused her to tilt her head. Her mount did the same then stopped dead on the path. Kadlin goaded him with her heels, but the horse wouldn’t move. He stood as if waiting and listening. The song was repeated, and this time the horse wheeled around on the narrow path, his step stuttering as his hooves came down in the thick brush.

  “No,” Kadlin cried, struggling with the reins and her pony’s lead.

  The two horses were now face-to-face, and Kadlin felt her panic rise.

  Again, three short chirps followed by a long note. The Viking’s horse whinnied and shouldered past the smaller pony, sending it skittering off the path. The lead was jerked from her hand, and Kadlin watched helplessly as her pony crashed through the forest straight in the direction of his home paddock.

  Kadlin gripped the big horse’s halter with both hands and pulled back, pleading with the beast to stop. The animal would not be dissuaded. He trotted back up the path, his gait steadily increasing. Kadlin tensed her aching thighs but knew that if the horse moved any faster she wouldn’t be able to cling to his bare back. Her mount turned sharply onto the main trail, and she began sliding to one side. The trees seemed to rush by, and when the four-note birdsong rang out again, the horse broke into a full gallop, throwing Kadlin off. She thanked Freya when she landed in a thick growth of ferns. She rolled up on to all fours and watched helplessly as the Viking’s horse thundered away from her and toward what she now realized was his master’s whistle.

  * * * *

  The moment Kadlin heard the hoof beats returning, she considered diving off of the trail and hiding in the underbrush until the Viking gave up and let her go free to live or die, prosper or starve. But she knew he wouldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t stop until he found her, and she was certain he could do so with little effort. He was at home in the forest and could track any animal with ease. Locating a clumsy girl would be easy.

  Instead of running, she stood in the center of the path and did her best to look strong and proud, when she felt only weak and dejected. The Viking’s eyes were ablaze when he caught up to her. His anger showed on his face and in the way he held his body. She was terrified. Even if she hadn’t committed to standing her ground, she would have been unable to flee. She was pinned in place by his glare. His hair was wild from sleep, and he wore only his trousers. His feet and chest were bare.

  Bjorn rode up to her side but did not dismount.

  “Where’s the pony?” he demanded.

  “Headed home,” she spat out.

  “You spoiled, little imp! Gods! The jarl will be displeased.”

  “Curse the jarl! And curse you too, Viking!”

  He reached down, grabbed her upper arm and yanked her belly-first across his lap. Her arms hung down one side of the horse’s neck and her legs down the other as if she were a doe taken down in the hunt. Kadlin’s legs flailed as she tried to reposition herself. Bjorn flattened his palm on her back making it clear that she was not to move.

  “Do not kick my horse,” he muttered.

  Kadlin could only stare at the ground passing by as they turned around and headed back. She hoped the slow progress would give the Viking a chance to calm down, but when they’d reached camp and were standing face-to-face, it was clear that was not the case.

  Chapter Two

  He loomed over her, his hands clenching and opening, his jaw tensing and relaxing as he seemed to fight to gain control over his temper. Kadlin jutted out her chin and held his stare though she was quaking inside. He pulled in a deep breath through his nose then spoke slowly and quietly, taking obvious effort not to shout at her. “You’ve no more sense than a kid goat. Do you have any idea—”

  “It’s just a stupid pony!” she interrupted.

  He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Do you think I’m angry about the damned pony?” he roared. “You could have been killed! You’re lucky you weren’t killed when you were thrown. And there are wolves and bears in those woods that would love to feast on a plump little morsel like you.”

  Kadlin thought she heard his rage tempered with genuine concern. For the first time, she felt as if he saw her as something more than a debt marker. His charge was to make sure that no harm came to her, and she had no doubt that he would sooner die than fail. Though she had been terrified during her short-lived escape attempt, the moment he’d found her—as furious as he’d obviously been—she had known she was safe. His strength was her shield. The realization softened her.

  He seemed so proud and
determined and unlike any man she’d ever met. The cloud of bitterness and anger that had hung over Kadlin began to fade. She glanced up at the Viking, and it was as if she was only now able to see him clearly. She studied the sharp angles of his face and realized how truly handsome he was. His eyes were as green as the pines, and when she looked into them she felt bared.

  Kadlin drew in a deep breath and his blazing stare dropped to her breasts. His biceps flexed as his angry grip loosened and he began to massage her flesh. The feel of his big hands on her was exhilarating, and the fire in his eyes was even more so. Something deep inside Kadlin stirred. The place between her trail-sore thighs throbbed with a much sweeter ache. She looked over his bare chest and flat belly. The taut skin was cut through with sharp valleys between the muscles. She could not stop herself. She reached out and touched him. She swept her palm over one side of his chest, and the tiny nipple puckered and hardened beneath her hand. She looked up at him. He was staring into her but made no move to stop her. His expression remained stone-like, but his breaths came quicker and she felt his heartbeat galloping in his chest.

  She was emboldened by the knowledge that she had sway over the giant. She glanced down and saw that his manhood had grown hard and pushed out the front of his trousers. The corner of her mouth jerked upward, and she met his gaze again.

  The Viking’s eyes narrowed. His hands still rested on her shoulders. She touched the tip of her finger to his breastbone and began trailing downward. Breaking his resolve became her sole focus.

  When she’d nearly reached the center of his belly, he said, “Stop.”

  Kadlin knew that she was playing a dangerous game and the stakes excited her. She blinked up at him with mock innocence while she circled his navel with her finger. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the fire circle. He sat down on a saddle and pulled her downward until she knelt beside him. He untied the belt that held her leather pouch and tossed it aside. The place between her legs pulsed and grew wet when she thought that she’d soon be straddling him, sliding up and down on his hard rod.

  Instead, the Viking pulled her across his lap, face-down with her stomach on his thighs and Kadlin realized that he meant to discipline her for baiting him. Her heartbeat thundered and heat gathered between her legs at the thought of it. She felt his erection against her side and understood that he would enjoy the task. He laid one forearm across her shoulder blades then yanked her tunic up and her trousers down until her bare backside was covered only by sky. With no preamble at all, he brought down his hand on one round cheek, and the loud slap stirred the birds from the trees. The sting was immediate and exquisite. She looked over her shoulder at him. Desire blazed through her body and must have shown on her face because his hand came down again and again.

  “Gods, yes!” she cried.

  His hand remained on her hot skin for a moment.

  “More?” he asked in a near whisper. He was breathless, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the effort of the spanking or the lust it fueled.

  “More,” she begged and turned her face toward the ground.

  His palm came down three more times, and with each blow, the contact inched closer to her tingling sex. Heat spread across her buttocks and into her most tender place. She didn’t think she could bear another stroke. He raised his arm again.

  “Please stop, Bjorn,” she whimpered and realized she was crying.

  He gently laid his palm on her and petted the hot flesh with a feather-light touch. He leaned over and blew on the punished skin. He lifted his arm from her back and reached into her tunic. He fondled her breast as the hand on her backside dropped to the hot, wet place between her thighs. He cupped and massaged the tingling mound while he pinched her nipple into a tight peak. When she moaned, he jerked her to her feet and stood her up in front of him, facing away. He pushed the hem of her tunic into her hands and she held the fabric up around her waist. He blew again, and she shivered. He kissed one burning cheek then the other.

  “Turn,” he commanded.

  Kadlin turned around, and her dewy sex was inches from his face. He ran his hands down her thighs, pushing her trousers to the ground. They puddled at her ankles, and she let go of her hem to steady herself on his bare shoulders. As soon as she’d stepped free of her shoes and trousers, he eased her closer. This time when he breathed out a stream of air, it ruffled her curls and caused her hardening little bud to press through the glistening lips.

  “Bjorn,” she breathed.

  He planted a kiss at the center of the curls and moved one hand between her quivering thighs. He slid a calloused fingertip back and forth over the divide of her throbbing lips, all the while kissing the soft mound.

  He parted her flesh and slowly pushed his finger into her at the same moment drawing her hardened jewel into his mouth. He licked at her juices and probed her hot canal. Kadlin’s legs trembled, but she was afraid to move, afraid that he would stop his glorious exploration.

  “So wet, so sweet,” he muttered against her sex.

  Kadlin cried out at the vibration of his words. He slid his finger from her and pulled her to her knees before him, her hands resting on his parted thighs. The Viking guided her fingers to the top of his trousers, and she tugged at the worn fabric, eager to see what lay beneath.

  He held her eyes with his until he was free of his clothing then she looked down. His huge rod stood hard, nearly brushing his flat belly. Kadlin licked her lips. She wanted to touch and taste the rigid flesh. She was greedy for it. She reached out and brushed her thumb over the velvety head, smearing it with the bead of excitement that had escaped the tip. She wrapped one hand around the hard shaft, and when she saw that her fingers could barely enclose its girth, fresh juices flowed from her in anticipation. She was enchanted and lovingly traced each ridge and vein. The Viking’s breath came faster now, and the head swelled, blushing to the loveliest shade of purple.

  Leaning forward, Kadlin took the hot plum in her mouth, and the Viking growled. He laced his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp has she licked and sucked and stroked him. His obvious pleasure fed her, and she took him deeper into her throat. The Viking moaned, hooked his hands under her arms and lifted her mouth to his.

  The kiss was all-consuming. Kadlin was lost in the sensation of his full lips pressing hard against hers and of the scent and taste of her juices. He crushed her against him and pulled her up so he could maneuver his legs between hers. He slid off of the saddle and leaned back against it, lowering her onto his lap so his steely rod stood upright between them, its underside grazing her curls.

  Kadlin ground into him, and their expectant moans mingled on their lips. The place where their bodies touched was now slick with her cream. Kadlin was the first to pull away. Panting, she looked into his eyes and begged, “Please Bjorn. Please!”

  The Viking needed no more provocation. He dug his fingers into her still-stinging buttocks and lifted her to her knees. She reached between them and positioned his rock-hard member at her opening. A momentary doubt flashed through her mind as she measured his girth in her hand. Her need and his command obliterated her hesitation. He forcefully pulled down her hips and impaled her onto him, filling her to the limit and causing her to cry out in pleasure and pain. She steadied herself on his shoulders as he guided her up and down in a manic dance. His thickness stretched her opening so that her nub was teased with every stroke. He turned over the reins to her, and she used her knees and aching thighs to continue the feverish pace.

  With his hands now free, the Viking yanked her tunic over her head. Her breasts bounced with each stroke. He grabbed them and roughly kneaded the yielding flesh. He sucked one nipple into his mouth while he pinched the other. Kadlin’s attention was torn between the sharp pleasure-pain radiating from her breasts to the aching ecstasy between her legs. She dug her nails into his shoulders, and he sucked harder, causing a white flash of desire to explode in her brain. She moved one hand to the back of his head, grasped his braids and yanked hard
. His lips left her breast, and he roared in frustration. She kissed him hard then pressed his face back to her chest, and he slurped in the pink bud again.

  Now, Kadlin’s breathing was frantic, and each exhalation was an audible moan. Her hips moved faster, and Bjorn sucked harder. He removed his hand from her breast and brought it down on her tender behind with a sharp slap. The wave of sensations crashed over her, and Kadlin cried out in release, her body clamping down over Bjorn’s. She squeezed down around him, and felt his wet heat pump into her.

  Spasms rocked her as her focus drifted outward from the place where their bodies met. She slumped against his sweat-slicked chest and nuzzled his neck. He lovingly stroked her back, and she melted under his touch. He pulled her to him then slid his body until he was flat on his back and she was lying against his chest, her legs intertwined with his.

  She was beginning to drift off when he spoke. “I cannot deliver you to the jarl now.”

  “Why? Because we have lain together? You said the jarl would not want me in his bed. He need never know.”

  Bjorn stroked her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. “No, dear one, I cannot deliver you to the jarl because now you are mine.”

  “Is that so?” she whispered against his chest.

  “It is so. And I am yours.”

  The sound of his voice fell over her like a soft blanket. She would no longer be an unwanted responsibility or an unwelcomed stranger. Her life did not have to be reduced to payment for someone else’s bad decision. In the Viking’s embrace and in his words, she found the promise of a better future. She would belong to him and he would belong to her.