“She is beautiful. I want her,” Einarr says.
“Do you? I couldn’t tell.”
He licks his lips. “That is how a woman is supposed to look. Thick with meat, something for my hands to hold onto.” Einarr cups his hands in front of himself, pretending to grab.
“But you have held onto a woman?” I ask, wondering if my best friend has ever actually felt the hot, tight sheath of a woman.
“Of course I have,” he says, nudging me with his arm as he walks forward to the girls.
I can’t tell. I really can’t decide if what he says is out of shame or truth. I follow close behind as the girls hug. Einarr stares at Thyra, intense and full or possessive intent, like a wild animal ready to claim.
“I’m here with news about your father, Sassa.” Thyra removes herself from the hug, but keeps hold of her friends’ hands, squeezing them tight.
“Yes? Is he stomping around the castle again? Tell him to have his morning tea, and he will be fine.” She waves and smiles at a little boy who screams her name, gaining her attention.
“Sassa, your father is dying. He is very ill,” Thyra says to her.
I run to my wife’s side, ready to catch her if she falls, but all she does is shake her head with denial.
“No, he was fine when I left. He is fine,” she says.
“Sassa, I’m here to ask you to come home. Your father wanted to send Kai or Achim,” Thyra says as she rolls her eyes, “but I wanted to see you. I thought it would be better coming from me.”
Sassa’s sways a bit, and Einarr steps forward to catch her as well. Tears fall down the high peaks of her cheeks, and she still shakes her head with denial. “No. He was fine, Thyra.”
“The physician’s said he hasn’t been fine in a very long time. They do not know what is wrong with him, Sassa, but he gets worse every day. You must come. The kingdom will be yours once he—”
“Shut up!” Sassa cries.
“Sassa!” I say, grabbing her arm and bringing my mouth to her ear. “Don’t speak to your friend that way. She is only trying to help.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” She pushes my chest, but I don’t move. I let her do what she needs. If she needs to hit something, she can hit me. If she wants to scream at someone, she can scream at me, but screaming at her friend? I won’t tolerate. Her friend travelled a long way to tell her such devastating news.
“Sassa…” Thyra reaches for her, but Sassa pulls away and takes a step back.
“All of you leave me alone. Don’t touch me!” she screams, and the lost trance in her eyes shatters me. I can’t fix this for her. It’s the one thing I can’t fix. “Just leave me be,” she sobs before she grabs the green material of her dress and flees.
“Sassa!” Thyra calls out, taking a step to go after her, but I shoot my arm out, stopping her in her tracks.
“She needs space. It’s what she wants. I’ll go after her soon. Einarr, will you please show Thyra to our guest quarters.”
“I’m sorry to cause such a ruckus. She needs to know. He is the only family she has left,” she says, turning around as Einarr’s hand drops to her lower back and guides her in the direction she needs to be.
“That’s not true. She has us. We are her family.” I stare off into the distance as I watch her figure get smaller the further away she gets.
She loves to run, and it’s a good thing I love a chase.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sassa
I wish I was near my special spot. Then, I could talk to my mother. My knees are pulled to my chest, and my forehead lies against my legs as I sob. I shouldn’t have yelled at Thyra like that, but what she told me… I thought her visiting would be so exciting, but the words that came out of her mouth hit me like a million arrows.
Piercing pain latches onto my body, wracking me with emotion, shaking it, until tears upon tears fall down my face. I can’t stop. My father, the mighty King of the North, is dying? It can’t be true. He is fine. He was fine a few months ago. He would have told me if he was sick. Wouldn’t he?
I think about all the times he wanted me to marry because he wanted me to be taken care of. But isn’t that what fathers do?
Laying my cheek against my knee, I look out into the forest, listening to the birds and crickets sing. The sun is setting, almost encompassing me in darkness. I don’t care though. I just want to fall into the ground and hide away from the world. How cruel must life be to take both my parents away?
My father, while not the most attentive man recently, loves me. And he had to do the duty of both a mother and a father. To have him taken from me, what shall I do?
I should have treated him better, I should have been more thankful for all he did for me, but instead, I always gave him a smart mouth answer. I wish I wouldn’t have. I’ll never be able to get that time back if what Thyra said is true.
The sleeves of my dress are soaked from my tears, and the trees start to blur from them gathering in my eyes so quickly. They are an endless sea of salt, filling wildly, crashing upon my cheeks from a heavy storm of emotion.
“Sassa.”
The sound of Grim’s voice only makes me cry harder. I turn my head away, not wanting him to see me at my weakest. “Go away. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Leaves rustle, and I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine. The electricity from his fingers still makes my skin come alive. He lifts my chin, and I try to turn my head again, but he holds onto me tighter. “Look at me,” he says.
I shake my head, and my bottom lip starts to quiver. “No.”
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes to see him, staring at me with love and sadness.
“There she is,” he whispers, wiping away another tear along my raw cheek.
“Here I am,” I say with a small laugh.
“You’re even beautiful when you cry.”
His words make me smile through my trembling lips and shaky breaths. “You only say that because you’re my husband.”
“No. I say it because it is true. Sassa—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Grim.”
“That’s too bad, isn’t it, Princess?” He picks me up and sits me on his lap. He pushes my head against his shoulder, and the scent of him calls me. I inhale as deep as I can, hoping the scent of him gets locked inside, so he can always bring me comfort, even when he is not near.
“Don’t make me talk about it, please,” I beg through insufferable tears that soak his shoulder.
His fingers run through my hair as he hums, causing his broad chest to rumble from the vibrations. “You don’t have to say anything, but I want you to know you aren’t alone, Sassa. I know what it is like to lose both of your parents. It’s hard. I don’t expect it to be easy for you, but I’m here for you. Einarr is here. Thyra. This village. You have a family.”
“What was it like when you lost your parents?” I ask with a sniffle.
His chest rises with a large sigh, in turn causing me to rise. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On which parent you’re talking about.”
The statement makes me pull back, and what I see in his eyes makes my tears dry just as quick as they came. “What do you mean, Grim? That’s an awful thing to say.”
He runs a finger over my nose, down my lips, up my jaw, and I close my eyes to take in the soft caress.
“It isn’t awful when one did awful things.” The underlying tone makes me wonder just what happened to his parents and if what happened, made him the man he is today.
A little cold.
Outstandingly brave.
The most notorious, yet noble warlord in history.
Surely whatever his parents did, couldn’t be that bad if they raised a man such as Grim?
“What happened?” I ask.
He sighs, leaning his head back against the tree. “What didn’t happen? My father wasn’t a kind man, Sassa. At least yours loves you.”
“I’
m sure your father loved you. How could you say that? How could anyone not love you?” I cup his sharp, defined jaw. His scruff tickles my palm, and his eyes dilate from the touch. I love his reaction to me. His eyes speak volumes. Those small black pupils are as tiny as they can go and surrounding them are the clear blue waters of melted ice caps. So beautiful, so ruggedly refined.
“He hated me. He hated everyone, really. He treated everyone like complete garbage. But the person he treated the worst was my mother. He was the kind of Viking everyone feared, Sassa. The kind that left you wishing no one told you of the nightmares Vikings set upon villages. Everything I stand for now is to rebuild everything he broke. He stole, he raped, he killed for sport, he found joy in the evilest things. And I always said, when I became a warlord, I’d change everything.”
“What happened to him?” I slide my finger along his chest, trying to bring him comfort as he speaks about what made his life.
He blows out a breath, and it makes a piece of my hair swing in the air for a moment before falling back into place. “My mother got very sick in the head.” He taps his temple. “She started to not remember where a book was, or my father’s name, but she always remembered me. I took a small victory in that knowing the man she had been with since she was a girl, was nothing but what used to be. My father took advantage of her sickness. He would go around and get all the whores, fuck them all, and ended up getting one of them pregnant.”
I gasp. “Oh my god, Krane?” I ask with wide eyes.
“Aye, Krane. My mother, not knowing what was going on, took in Krane like he was her own because that was just the kind of woman she was. She was a good mum, but my dad didn’t want a whore’s son in the family, so he kicked him out when he was sixteen, but my mother couldn’t remember anything about Krane a week later. Her mind started to go quickly after that.” The white of his eyes tint a light pink hue, and he glances away from me, staring off into the thick of the trees.
“I don’t know how old I was, but my father started to hit my mum. I’d come home, and I’d find her with a black eye, bruised ribs, a busted lip, and she could never tell me what happened. So, one day, I stayed home to keep an eye on her. She didn’t know I was there. She saw me walk out the door, but then I crawled back in through a window. And I waited.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to his chest, hindering my ability to breathe comfortably, but I’m not dying, so I don’t tell him to stop.
“And that drunk bastard came home and slapped her across the face, and then he… and then he started to rip off her clothes. Her own husband. A man that was supposed to love and care for his wife, taking advantage of her weakness like that. It was disgusting. She was screaming at the top of her lungs because she thought it was a stranger, but you know what she was screaming? She screamed for her husband to save her when it was her own husband wrecking her. I had enough.”
Tears start to form again, and I feel his pain seep into me. I feel strangled from it, but I soak it up because he needs to let it out, and that’s why I’m here. “I took my sword and killed him when he had his back turned to me. It’s the only time I’ve ever killed a man with him not knowing, but I couldn’t let him hurt my mother anymore. What’s even worse is a few seconds later, my mother had no idea what happened. After killing him, it meant I was the new warlord. People challenged me, but I always won.”
“Is that what these beads are?” I stroke my fingers through the braided strands. Large silver and iron beads decorated the thick hair.
He seems impressed. “That’s right. Look at you, Madam Know-It-All.”
I compare the strands, noticing that one side has less than the other. “I think you lost one. Here.” I tug the braid, making him growl, but it isn’t with warning. It’s with lust.
“I gave one to Einarr. For his bravery and keeping you safe.”
“Does that mean anything?”
He nods. “It means he can be his own warlord if he wants.”
“You’d sacrifice him?”
“He deserves his own leadership, but he said he wasn’t going to leave. So, I thought, we could be the first in history to have two warlords in a village. No one would want to battle us.”
“Was he there when your father and mother died?”
“Aye, he was. He has been with me always.”
“I may be a bit jealous,” I say with a giggle. “You seem close.”
He flips us over until I’m on my back and he is on top of me, spreading my legs apart to settle his body over mine. “Not as close as you and me.”
“I’d hope not!” I laugh, wrapping my arms around the thick of his neck. A light mist of rain starts to fall around us, dooming the good mood. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“I’ve learned to live with it. I have you now. My life used to be all bad, but you’re like a bright, scintillating light, casting away the dark shadows and demons that laid rest in my soul. You’ve awakened me.” His hands manipulate my dress as he sweeps the fabric up my legs. “You’ve awakened all of me.”
I choke on a breath. “All of you?”
“Every. Single. Inch.” He looks me in the eyes as he punctuates each word with a thrust of his hips. “Promise me something, Sassa.”
I’ll promise him anything if he continues to rub his cock over my wet pussy. “Yes,” I gasp, arching my back as that thick crown punches my clit with every stroke.
“Don’t go to your father’s alone. Wait until I can go with you.” He breathes each word into my mouth.
I push against his chest as his words of manipulation sink into my veins, bringing anger to the surface of my skin. “What? Are you serious?” I scoff, shoving him off me until he tumbles on his side. “That was your plan all along? Butter me up with a sad story about your father, and then try to convince me I can’t go see mine without you; all during sex?”
“That’s not what I was trying to do, Sassa…” He reaches for me, but I pull away, dusting off my dress.
I shake my head, clicking my tongue from his damn audacity. “You must take me for a fool. Don’t think I don’t know that you wish deep down that I’d just do what you say. You know when you tell me not to do something, I want to do it even more. You can’t stop me from seeing my own father! You don’t have the power over me for that. And if you try to stop me, I’ll make sure I take you on a merry chase, and you’ll never find me. I’ll have you going in circles!” I yell so loud that the birds fly from the trees.
“You are not going on that ride alone! Do you understand me?”
“I don’t answer to you or anyone,” I growl through clenched teeth. I turn to walk away, but he grabs me by the wrist, and my back hits a tree as Grim looms over me.
“You answer to me!”
“I answer to myself,” I goad him, poking at the things that set him off the most.
With power that gets my pussy wet, his strong arms lift me up, and my legs naturally wrap around his hips. Anger floods my system, but whatever is happening, my body wants more of it. He takes one hand and yanks the neckline down, and my breasts pop out of their restraints. He latches onto a nipple with his mouth, and I only get angrier, but I arch my body to his, pushing my tit between his lips.
“You aren’t doing anything unless I tell you to. That is a long journey for a woman. I’m not allowing it.” He shoves my dress up around my waist. Then pushes his hand between his legs and releases his cock.
“I’ll make that journey whether you like it or not! Now fuck me!” I yell the last word as he thrusts his cock into me in one hard stroke. I grab his face with both hands and smash his lips against mine, whimpering into his mouth as he fucks me against the tree. “You make me so mad,” I make a growl of my own and take his lip between my teeth, biting the flesh until he hisses.
“You are infuriating.” He hooks his hands around my shoulders to get better leverage and drives into me with more force. “You drive me mad. I’ve never met someone that can get under my skin like you.”
I c
url my lip when he pulls my hair, and I dig my nails into the skin of his neck, moaning and gasping as my ass scratches against the tree. “You got under my skin the moment I met you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You did the same to me.” He removes me from the tree and flips me over on all fours on the ground.
We fuck like beasts on the forest floor. Grunting, moaning, crying out in pleasure and anger as he fills me with every inch of his massive cock. “Come for me,” he demands.
“No.” I smile as that familiar anger tints his eyes.
“You better come for me, or I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
“I’ll come when I want to come.” I know that is a lie because I already feel my orgasm building. I have held it back for the last few minutes. I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of it yet.
His hand falls on my ass just like he promised, and my long, drawn-out guttural moan echoes through the nighttime forest. He pushes my shoulder down, keeping my rear up for the taking. “I said come for me, Sassa.”
The new position makes it impossible for me to hold back any longer. I slam my fist against the dirt and curse his name as it falls from my lips, milking his cock, trying to suck him deeper into my channel.
He follows right behind me, filling me to the brink with his seed. The warmth splashes against my walls, heating my core, and making me hope he gets me pregnant with his annoying, infuriating sperm.
With a twist of his hand, he tilts my head, bringing my lips to his. We fight for dominance with our tongues, but in the end, he wins. “Tell me you love me.” A rumble shakes his chest.
Love is the one thing I will never joke about. “I love you, even if you do drive me mad.” I try to catch my breath. Angry sex is my favorite type of sex.
“The feeling is very much mutual.”
“Which feeling?” I ask.
“Both.”
Yes, it is most definitely both.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Vikings' Brides 4 Book Box Set Page 16