by Madison Faye
Rhona cries out, her body trembling, her hands clutching my face and yanking me to her mouth as she kisses me wildly.
“I’m… I’m… Tor!”
When she comes, I come right there with her. I roar into her lips, tasting her mouth as she comes for me so sweetly. Her little cunt ripples around me, and when my balls throb and my cum pours into her pussy, I kiss her hard and fierce. I keep thrusting, fucking her into climax after climax as my balls empty rope after thick, white rope of cum into her, spraying her pussy with my cum until it’s dripping out of her.
I gather her in my arms, kissing her and rolling us until she’s on top of me, panting against my chest, my arms tight around her body. And I hold her just like that, kissing her forehead as she gasps for air again my chest. Slowly, my head still swimming, the both of us find our breaths. She looks up at me, her eyes wild with the fire of a girl who’s just been shown what she’s been missing. And when our lips come together, I know one thing.
…I’ll set the world on fire to keep her right here with me.
Chapter 10
Tor
“Come, I want to show you something.”
We both fell asleep after the second time I took her. This time, her on top of me, riding me like a stallion—her long auburn hair wild around her face, her perfect, soft, full breasts swaying as she bounced on my cock until she came over and over. But now, the camp mostly asleep outside and the moon in full glow, I gently wake her with a kiss.
“Come, Rhona.”
She blinks sleep away, smiling when her eyes open fully to me, and she leans up to kiss me as I scoop her into my arms. I dress her in a tunic of mine that fits her almost like a gown once it’s tied around her waist and take her hand in mine as we step from my tent. People are still up, but the festivities have died down a bit since earlier. I lead her through the shadows to one of our newly acquired horses, shaking my head at myself knowing how useful the beast will be for right now.
I lift her onto the stallion and hop on behind her, and then we’re off.
My arms hold her tight as the stallion thunders over the moonlit hills next to the shore. The stars are bright above, and I grin as her hair blows across my face.
Perfection.
We follow the shore, and before long, we’re here.
“Where…” Rhona looks around curiously as I set her down. “Where are we?”
“Home,” I say quietly.
She looks up at me quizzically, and I grin.
“This will be home, at least. And soon.”
Rhona frowns. “For you?”
“For all of us—all of my people.”
“Here in Scotland?”
“Aye,” I mutter, trying not to laugh as I try my best Scottish accent, which comes out badly. She giggles, biting her lip as she steps into my arms.
“Isn’t home up in the north?”
I look out over the hills at the ocean beyond, and I shake my head.
“Maybe once, but not anymore. Here’s been my home longer than there ever was, truth be told. And it’s time.” I shake my head again. “It’s time to stop what I’ve been doing. All of us need to. The fighting, the plundering, the terrorizing.” I scowl. “It’s ending, Rhona.”
She brings my hand to her lips, kissing it softly.
“But isn’t that who you are? You’re a Viking, Tor. That’s what you d—”
“Did,” I finish for her. “It’s what I’ve done for years. What we’ve all done for years. And little bird?” I turn, holding her hands and gazing into her eyes.
“And I’m done doing it. Our King, Haraldsson, up north—his lust for treasure and the power he thinks fear of us brings him has grown larger than it should. What we do now isn’t a necessity to support our home, it’s just to keep on plundering and killing. And I’ve had my fill. I’ve had more than four lifetime’s fill of it, Rhona. We all have.”
“And you’re going to say here?” she whispers, biting her lip eagerly.
I grin, nodding. “Yes, though it won’t be easy.”
She frowns. “Not when you’ve spent as long as you have fighting the highlanders.”
“This land here?” I nod around us. “It belongs to no lord. It’s away from other towns and cities, and it’s near the shore. It’s a place for us to start afresh, as the free men we always wanted to be. As the free men we ought to be, not the pawns of a king gone drunk off power and treasure. Here, we’ll build homes, and raise crops, and… fuck, whatever those little highland lordlings from your world do.”
She giggles, rolling her eyes before she gasps as I tug her into me.
“This life I live right now can’t go on, my little queen. I want to farm, and fish, and raising a family.”
She blushes.
“A family?”
“Aye,” I growl, sliding a hand to her belly. “I want my heir in your womb, sweetness. I want to breed you until you’re full and ripe with child.”
I scoop her into my arms, and when she moans, I kiss them away with my lips until her arms are around my neck and I’ve forgotten how long since I’ve breathed.
“Taking you may have been wrong, Rhona, but—”
“I’m glad you did,” she whispers into my lips.
I grin. “I was going to say, ‘but I’d do it a thousand more times.’”
Her lips crush to mine, turn tongues dueling as the fire roars through me.
“Tonight,” I purr softly, kissing her tenderly.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight, right now, the minute we get back to my camp…”
I level my eyes with hers, and I see the answer before I even tell her, or bother asking.
“Tonight, we’ll wed.”
Fire blazes in her eyes, and she’s kissing me hungrily before I even know what hits me.
“Yes,” she moans softly into my mouth.
“Be my bride, my love,” I growl. “My little warrior queen.”
“Yes,” she moans again, our lips crushing together as the moon glows bright, the stars twinkle, and the ocean crashes softly against the shore.
Chapter 11
Rhona
My arms tighten around him as the horse slows from gallop to trot. My face presses to Tor’s back, my lips brushing his bare shoulder as he reins in the stallion as we arrive back at the camp.
Everything feels… different now. Bigger. Like the world has opened up for me. I know it’s all to attribute that to losing my virginity to the savage, amazing man I’m clinging to. But I know that’s it. Maybe not just the act itself, but in truly giving myself to him. For years—maybe my whole life—I’ve thought of Vikings and especially of the infamous Tor Odinson as barely-human demonic creatures living off the blood of their victims. But now that I’m here, in the midst of them, and with Tor, I know how wrong I’ve been.
I know he’s so much more than that. And now, he’s about to be something else, too.
…My husband.
The camp is somewhat quieter than it was before, though people are still up, drinking and telling stories around a few fires scattered around the camp. Tor helps me down from the horse and turns to whistle at and beckon to a group near the main bonfire.
“Freya!”
A tall, lithe, absolutely stunning blonde looks up from the wicked-looking knife she’s been honing with a whetstone. Tor nods at her and she stands, pushing her braided hair over one shoulder as she moves towards us. Her fierce, ice-blue Nordic eyes sweep over me, and I find my hand tightening in Tor’s.
“You must be Rhona.”
The iciness melts from her face as she approaches, and she smiles as she says it.
“Rhona, this is Freya,” Tor rumbles. “Frey, can you help her with some clothes?”
“Of course, my jarl.” She raises a brow, smirking. “Anything in particular?”
Tor grins widely. “A dress, if you even own one.”
Freya sighs, shaking her head as she turns to roll her eyes at me, gesturing at Tor. “He likes to t
hink he knows women.” She grins, leaning close conspiratorially. “He doesn’t, does he.”
I laugh as Tor scowls at the both of us.
“Well, do you?”
Freya sighs. “Well, no.”
Tor snorts.
“But there was that trunk full of finery that was in that merchant vessel a few weeks ago.”
“See if you can find something that fits her, please.”
“What’s the occasion?”
Tor and I glance at each other, and his big hand squeezes mine gently as he lifts it to his lips to kiss.
“A wedding.”
Freya frowns and opens her mouth when suddenly, her eyes go wide.
“Really?!”
Tor smiles, nodding. “Tonight, Freya. Tell the others. I would very much like them there. And if you could find the Gothar and have him ready the ritual.”
He turns, pulling me into him and dipping low to kiss me deeply. I blush at the affection with someone right here watching us, but the more he kisses me, the more I forget the rest of the world even exists.
…He’s apparently very good at doing that.
“I will come for you soon, my little queen,” he growls, kissing me once more before turning to nod at Freya before he heads off.
“Well…” Freya raises her brows at me, her white teeth flashing as she smiles. “Apparently you’ve stolen his heart.”
I blush, looking down.
“Oh, I don’t—”
“I do.” Freya folds her arms over her chest, eying me. “Don’t let his gruff, heartless savage act fool you. The man most certainly has a heart, trust me. And it’s yours now.”
There’s an edge of warning in her voice, and for a moment, I bristle, eyeing her with a new light. She’s beautiful, and tall, and lithe, and a fierce warrior just like him. And suddenly, all sorts of self-doubt and jealousy start to bleed into my veins.
Freya catches it too, because she starts to grin as she shakes her head.
“Oh no,” she laughs.
“What.” My voice is edged as I suck on my teeth.
Freya shakes her head again. “Tor? And me?” She laughs. “You are very, very wrong, highlander. More wrong than you even know. Tor is my brother.”
My brows shoot up as I turn crimson.
“Oh, God, I am so…” I cringe, shaking my head. “I’m sorry.”
She giggles. “Don’t be. In truth, he isn’t my actual blood brother, but he might as well be. There,” she turns and nods her chin at the small group of men she was sitting with when Tor called her over.
“Oy, pig fucker!”
A tall, muscled, gorgeous blond man with a really similar face as Freya and the same piercing icy blue eyes turns instantly, half standing as he swivels his gaze to Freya. His eyes settle on her as the voice behind the words, and he grins as he gives her some sort of violent gesture with his fingers before sitting back down.
Freya laughs.
“That is my actual brother. Erik. But we’ve known Tor since we were children, and I’ve been on every campaign with them since I was old enough to wield a sword.”
I stare at her in awe, shaking my head.
“This surprises you, highlander?”
I laugh. “I think you and I come from very different worlds.”
Freya grins. “I think I agree. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, does it?”
“I don’t suppose it does.”
She frowns suddenly. “I haven’t…” she bites her lip. “We haven’t warred with your kin, have we?”
I shake my head. “No. Though I was at Dungow Castle when Tor tried to take it.”
Freya winks. “Almost did, too.”
She sighs, hands on her hips as she sizes me up again.
“We should find you a dress for the wedding.”
She smiles, reaching out and squeezing my shoulder with a strong hand.
“This is new for him, you know. Not marriage… well, of course marriage. But I mean you. A woman.”
“He doesn’t…” I frown. “He must have had plenty of girls before me,” I say quietly.
Freya holds my eye as she shakes her head.
“No, not really. Tor doesn’t take other woman. Actually, none of the men under his command take any innocents like that. He forbids it, and we support it. But even beyond that, he hasn’t been with a woman in… I honestly cannot remember how long. A very long time though.”
She chuckles.
“I’ll warn you though, though he’s nothing more than a brother to me, there are plenty of other women under his command who you’ll soon find to be quite jealous of you.”
I blush, biting my lip.
“You fight alongside the men where you come from?”
“Aye.” She shrugs. “We learn to fight where I come from, man or woman. After all, if an enemy comes at you with an axe, having tits isn’t going to save you.”
I laugh as she grabs her own breasts comically.
“And as effective as a swift kick to the balls is, a blade talks louder.”
I shrug. “You could always use both.”
Freya chuckles, grinning at me. “Rhona, I think I’m going to like having you as a sister of sorts. Come, let’s find you a dress.”
It’s midnight when I step out of the woods into a small clearing, and my breath catches.
It’s… beautiful.
The clearing in the woods, with the old trees towering high above us, is lit with a number of small torches flickering widely. A small number of Vikings sit on benches hewn from fallen logs—Freya, and the men she was sitting with, and a few others. Part of me is saddened by the fact that my friends aren’t here, but I know they’d understand. They’d understand that marrying this man as soon as I possibly can is everything, and we can celebrate with them later.
To one side, standing by a boulder carved with runes and symbols and a small wooden structured adorned with flowers, stands the pagan priest. And there, beside him, is the man I’ve fallen completely in love with.
Tor.
I move like in a dream, the pale white dress Freya found in the trunk of plundered treasures loose on me as it flows behind me. I go to him, and I take his hands as I look into his eyes. The holy man says words in a language I don’t understand, but I know the meaning behind them. And I know how they make me feel when I lock eyes with Tor.
The moon glows down on us, and the air is full of the smells of the woods, and the torches. And this is everything I’ve always wanted, even if I never knew it until now. Words are said, we repeat them. We drink wine from a shared cup, the holy man burns a slip of parchment, and when he turns to me and smiles kindly as he nods towards Tor, I know it’s real.
We’re married.
I fall into his arms as the small crowd stands and cheers. And I’m still kissing him when Tor stands and strides away, right through the woods back towards camp. Back towards his tent.
“Come, wife,” he growls into my mouth.
“Anywhere you want to take me, husband,” I purr back, melting into him as he strides through the moonlit woods.
Chapter 12
Rhona
My back crashes against the big wooden center post of Tor’s tent, and when he crushes against my body and kisses me fiercely, I moan into his lips.
I’m married.
His.
Forever.
The thought sends heat blazing through me, my skin tingling and my heart racing with excitement as I kiss him hungrily, with everything I have, until we’re gasping for air. His mouth falls to my neck, making me cry out in pleasure as his lips tease my skin, teeth nipping at me just enough to take my breath away. His big hands slide over my hips, pulling me into him possessively and grinding the thick bulge in his breeches against my center.
The gauzy white dress that Freya found for me was a bit large for me, and so we ended up cinching it with one of her metal and bead studded leather belts. Couple that with the Viking sandals on my feet and the crown of flowe
rs in my hair, and I feel like… well, some sort of forest nymph. Part lord’s daughter, part girl of the forest. And entirely Tor’s.
There’s no shame or regret about having already done what I know we’re about to do before we were wed. Because it was with him. With my husband. And knowing it’s Tor who took my virginity, and Tor and Tor alone who’ll have me, for the rest of our lives, is a thought that has me aching for more of him.
For all of him.
There’s a boldness to me that wasn’t there before—carnal knowledge filling me with power, perhaps. But whatever it is, my hands go where they want, without fear, or without trepidation. I trace my fingers down his chest, plucking at the ties to his tunic until it opens deep down his muscled chest. The Nordic Viking tattoos on his chest and shoulders draw my eyes, and I coo softly as I trace them with a fingertip. I lean in to kiss his chest as my hands peel his tunic up his muscled abs, pulling away from him just long enough for him to tug the shirt off and throw it aside. And then I’m right back in his arms, moaning as he kisses me.
Tor’s hands find my belt, tugging it open easily and letting it drop. It barely hits the dirt when his fingers find the ties to my dress, and when he yanks it open eagerly, his eyes blazing and a growl in his throat, I moan as his eyes drink in my body.
“Beautiful,” he purrs in that accent I love. His hands skim over my body, sliding the dress from my shoulders and letting it drop before his fingers tease over my skin. He cups my full breasts, thumbs rolling my nipples as his lips tease my neck. My hands drop to his breeches, shaking as I pull at the ties there. I open them, taking a deep breath, and I boldly slide my hands into his breeches.
God he’s so big.
I gasp as my fingers brush over his swollen cock, trapped in the confines of his pants and throbbing to be free. He pulses against my hand, and when I curl my fingers around him, Tor groans in pleasure. I tug at his breeches, slipping them down over his muscled hips. His enormous cock springs free, bringing a gasp to my lips as it lands heavily in my hands. I moan, stroking him slowly and softly, feeling him swell even harder in my hands as he groans in pleasure.