Vikings' Brides 4 Book Box Set

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Vikings' Brides 4 Book Box Set Page 60

by Jessica Knight


  I’m not in the mood for her arguing. I have too much to think about. I need to bathe. I’m filthy, still covered in soot, ash, and sweat.

  “Beowulf, you can’t go around and pick up women and throw them over your—”

  “—Oh, shut up, already,” I grumble, and when we get back to the cabin, I drop her on the furs. I ignore her protests about being unreasonable, and that she’s able to take care of herself. She can. I’m so fucking proud of her for punching Argent in the face. It’s sexy as hell that she has such fire, but I’ve been traveling all day. I’m tired and just want to forget everything.

  Forget my brother died.

  Forget my nephew is missing.

  Forget the woman I love doesn’t love me.

  I take a step back and lift a brow when I notice a new door. It’s sturdy. The workmanship is good. Great even. Someone must have fixed it while I was gone. I continue to the bathing room and pump the well for water to fill the basin. I light a fire underneath the tin over the makeshift firepit, and soon the water starts to boil. With a heavy sigh, I dig my heel into one of the loose boards and bend over to grab my secret bottle of mead.

  I shuck my pants off, along with my armor, and toss the blasted thing against the wall. Shite, I forgot to grab a fur to dry myself off with. Not caring one bit that I’m naked and my cock is swinging between my legs, I pop the cork off the bottle and take a swig of the mead. Damn, that’s good after a day like today.

  “What are you doing?” Lilith yelps, staring at me with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

  “Taking a bath,” I grunt, picking up a clean fur from the shelf. I feel her eyes on me, and it makes me flex my muscles.

  “Warn a lady next time, if you would,” she says.

  The fur is soft when I throw it over my shoulder. “It’s my house. I can be naked if I wish.” This time, the heat and annoyance in my voice isn’t playful. I’m barely hanging on. And if she pushes me, I’ll fall. I’m angry, but it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate her eyes on me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I have it now, but all I want is space, no matter how much my cock takes notice of her pinked cheeks.

  I toss the fur on the floor and sink into the heated basin. It’s the biggest one I could find when I was building this place, and the damn tin is still too small. A good portion of my legs hang out the sides, and on a good day, it bothers me. Today? I’m just trying to drink my mead and forget about what happened over the last few days.

  Water flows into my mouth. I spit it back out before dipping my head under the warm heat. I stay there for a minute, letting the warmth coat my body, my lips, my head. I let it cloak my body and drench my long hair. I let the tears build up in my eyes, letting them mix with the water. I know once I emerge, I’ll have control of my emotions again, but right now, I must take the opportunity to give in, to mourn, to be devastated. Soon enough my lungs start to burn. I lift out of the water and gasp for air, running my hand over my face to get the water out of my eyes.

  I’m done now. I’m not a man of many weaknesses, but at the end of the day, I’m human, and losing my brother is tearing me apart inside. Trident pulled me out of that house, along with my brother’s body. He was gutted by those Jackals. Fire would have been a better death than what those fucking Jackals did to him. I remember the urge to surrender and let those flames take me, but Trident wouldn’t allow it.

  I’m thankful now, and I should tell him that. Right now, I want to work through my emotions. I just feel empty.

  A knock on the wall stalls my emotional breakdown, and to stop myself from turning into a sad sap, I take a long swig of mead and remember I’m six and a half feet tall and two hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle. Men like me don’t get to be weak.

  “Come in.” I take the bar of soap in my hand and let the suds fall over my arms before I put it down and lather my body.

  “Beowulf, I… is something wrong?” she keeps her eyes averted, stealing glances every so often.

  “Don’t want to talk about it.” I dip my head in the water and grab the bar of soap again, scrubbing the soot out of the long hairs. I keep washing until the soap is white again and not gray from the ash.

  Lilith decides to come in, throwing caution to the wind about the cock sticking straight up toward the ceiling. I may not want to fuck, but it doesn’t mean my cock doesn’t take notice of the woman of my dreams. Hell, I’m having a hard time keeping my fingers wrapped around the bottle of mead, but I have to. If I take her now, it won’t be what I’ve always fantasied about. I’ll be too angry, to full of angst, and she deserves better than that.

  She flips her hair over her shoulder, trying to fan it over her breasts, and my eyes stick to the hardening beads of her nipples tenting her gown. Her throat bobs, and a sheen of sweat drips down her neck. I chalk it up to the steam from the bath, but I know better. Lilith likes what she sees, and that makes my balls ache. She needs to go so I can wrap my fist around my dick and stroke myself in the name of Lilith.

  “No. Talk to me. You’ve been there for me. This is me being here for you.”

  “Is that so?” I say sadly, staring into the glass bottle of the mead. “If you only really knew how many times you’ve actually been there for me.”

  “I can’t help what happened then, Beowulf. All I can do is try now.”

  I tilt my head back against the basin and stare at the ceiling. Ah, I need to fix that. There’s a space between a few boards.

  “Beowulf!”

  I flop my head to the left and drink down the mead. “My brother is dead, and my nephew is missing. He is out there, somewhere. I must find him. Even if it means killing every last Jackal to get him back.”

  Something that isn’t water hits my hand. It’s her hand. It’s squeezing mine, and it makes my heart hurt even more than before I came into this bath.

  “My goddess, Beowulf. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s life.”

  Her hand lands on my cheek, and her fingers lock on my jaw, forcing me to look at her. “Life hasn’t been very kind to you. I’m so sorry for that.” Her fingers stroke my skin, and just having her so close has my body shivering. I’ve waited so long for her touch.

  “It’s alright.”

  “It isn’t, but I’ll do what I can to help. When we find your nephew, I can help raise him. I love kids.”

  “Aye?” I ask with a half-smile. “How do you know?”

  “I… I don’t know. It’s more of a feeling, I suppose,” she laughs.

  Silence fills the room, but her hands on me are louder than words. My cock hardens painfully, and her breath speeds up. I slide my eyes to her and refuse to hide my desire for her any longer. I can’t do it. It’s too painful, and with everything else going on inside me, I need the weight lifted. I need to breathe.

  “Lilith, I—” she cuts me off by claiming my lips with hers.

  My hand comes out of the water, soaked with droplets as I place it on the side of her face. She leans forward over the water and brushes her lips on mine again.

  Everything I’ve ever wanted is happening. It’s in this one kiss. Just like our first time, she initiated the liplock, and it may not be our first kiss to me, but it is to her. And that makes it that much sweeter. I take my time, moving our lips in harmony, and taste her tongue on mine. A groan slips from my lips, causing a whimper to leave hers, and I swallow it, drinking the music of her down until it’s feeding me, feeding the hunger I have for her.

  I never want to stop. Twelve years. Twelve fucking years it’s been since I’ve felt her lips on mine, and it’s even better than I remember.

  She pulls away from me, gasping for breath and tears in her eyes.

  My heart sinks. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I got carried away, but I just… I fucking love you, Lilith. I’ve loved you since forever. I can’t do this life without you anymore. I can’t.”

  I take her hands in mine and bring our noses together. “Maybe over time, you can learn to love me. I’ll take care of you. Just give me a cha
nce to prove it to you.” Fucking hell, this mead must be getting to me because I would have never admitted that out loud.

  “I remember.”

  “Remember what?” My heart stops beating for a second. I don’t dare to hope.

  She stares at me like she is seeing me for the first time. Tears are non-stop falling down her cheeks, and her fingers are rubbing over every inch of my face like she can’t believe I’m in front of her.

  “Beowulf. I remember you. I remember everything,” she sobs. “Your lips. The kiss.” She reaches for her mouth, her hand shaking. “The meadow. I kissed you in the meadow. It was fleeting, but it was everything I dreamed it would be. The sun was hot that day, and I wanted to lay with you under it until the sky turned black, and the stars were out.”

  “Lilith, you better not be playing with me right now.”

  “You’ve always been there for me. Even when I was taken and you weren’t physically there, you were here,” she lays her hand over her heart. “I thought about you every day. You kept me alive in hopes I would see you again. It’s the only thing that kept me going.”

  I can’t take it anymore. I leap out of the tub, scoop her into my arms, and run to where the pile of furs are. The fire is going, but it isn’t what has my skin hot.

  “Lilith,” is all I can say, before crashing my mouth to hers again. Fuck, she remembers me. I must have fallen asleep in the basin because there is no way everything I’ve ever wanted is in my grasp right now.

  That’s not how life works for me.

  “I love you,” I tell her between kisses, hating to break us apart, even for a second, but I must let her know just in case she forgets again. “I love you so much, Angel. It’s only ever been you to have my heart.”

  “I love you too, Beowulf.”

  The words are my saving grace. My insides pull together, and piece by piece, the emptiness is gone, and I start to feel whole again. She’s always had that power over me. Lilith is the key to my well-being. She’s my soul. Without her, I’m a cold, ruthless killer that knows no bounds.

  I tangle my hand in her hair and take my time exploring her mouth. She even tastes like sunshine, hot with a zing of spice, and it drives me up the wall. She’s clawing her nails down my back, thrusting her hips to get a feel of my aching thick cock.

  Not yet.

  I’ve waited my entire life for this moment. I’m going to take my time, discover every inch of this tight little body, make her sing my name a few times before I shove my cock into her tight heat. The thick flesh between my thighs pulsates, begging me to lift her dress and slide in, but I control myself. She deserves more than a quick fuck. She deserves love.

  And I’m going to give it to her.

  As if it has a mind of its own, my left hand travels down the soft curve of her neck, down her chest until I’m cupping her tits through the damned gown. I need it off. I need to see her body. I growl as I rip it in half, her tits bouncing with their freedom.

  “So pretty. So pink.” I flick my tongue over the rosy bead and moan. A huge squirt of pre-come shoots from the slit of my cock, and I take my other hand to use it as lube, giving myself a few strokes.

  “Beowulf.”

  “Yes, say it again.”

  “What?”

  “Say my name again,” I grunt, taking her sweet nipple into my mouth and letting it go with a hard pop.

  “Beowulf,” she moans, arching her back, and it causes her swollen nub to brush against my wet lips.

  “So beautiful. So mine. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” I admit, giving her the side of me that is only hers—giving her my heart.

  “I’ve waited for you. You’re the only one that’s ever going to have me, Beowulf.”

  I slide up her body, chest to chest, nose to nose, pelvis to pelvis, and I take her face in my hands and dart my eyes across every inch of beauty I can see. “What are you saying?”

  Her body starts trembling again, and I plant a soft kiss on her forehead. “What is it, Angel?”

  “They wanted me. The Jackals. They said if I bore their children, I would be free from my cell. But I fought them off all these years. I told them I’d rather be tortured than be with anyone but you.”

  Her eyes lock onto mine, but they are not filled with fear or sadness. They are only filled with love.

  “My first. You’re my first everything. I only ever wanted you.”

  I wish I could say the same. I should have waited and held out hope that she was still alive, but I let my grief control me, and I lost my way. “You’re my last, Angel.” I take her mouth in a plundering kiss, my cock hard as a rock, impatient for her virgin pussy waiting for me.

  But first, I want to taste the sweet cherry waiting for me between her legs.

  With more control than I thought I had, I break away from her impeccable lips and lick my way down her body. I dive my tongue into her navel, claiming that hole as well. She gasps and hisses when my hands grab hold of her hips as if she is in pain. I scan my eyes up her body and lock my intense stare with her golden orbs.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing! Keep going.” She tries to push me down by my head, but I’m stronger than her. There a piece of her dress covering her hip, the one my hand is on, and I pull it away. When I see the black and blue bruising, my vision goes red.

  “He did this?” I’m going to kill him. I had no idea he hurt her. My beautiful woman should never have to worry about going on a walk and being confronted. She’ll never have to worry about it again. Ever. Not as long as I am breathing.

  “It’s fine. I’m not hurt,” she wraps her legs around my neck. “But, I won’t protest if you made it better.”

  Her pretty pink pussy is in my face, glistening from her juices, and my mouth waters. I decide to table the conversation about what happened to her hip. I make a mental note to stay away from that side because tonight is about pleasure. About us. About our love, not pain.

  There is no more pain here.

  I lock my lips onto her sweet, sensitive bud and suck the bundle into my mouth. Her hands slam against the floor as my tongue dives into her virgin heat. I groan as a gush of her cream floods my mouth, dripping down my chin into my beard, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Her pussy is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I never want to leave.

  “Beowulf,” she gasps. The way my name falls from her mouth sounds like she can’t control herself. Her legs are shaking. The juices flowing from her pussy are coming out faster and faster until she screams. Her legs try to squeeze together, but since I’m still sucking on this orgasm-inducing bundle, they can’t touch. Instead they just press against my forehead, only spurring me to keep licking her harder.

  After a few moments, she finally calms down, and her body stops shaking. I lift myself from between her thighs, kiss the top of her bush, and wipe my mouth. She has her arm flung over her eyes, mumbling nonsense that I can’t understand.

  “My turn,” I growl, taking my cock in my hand and stroke. I’m already on the verge of coming. My heavy balls are tight against my body, and my cock is so hard it hurts.

  “Let me feel what your mouth is like, Angel.”

  Lilith licks her lips and sits up. Her hair is wild, her eyes are glossed over, and her cheeks are flushed from her orgasm. I guide my big cock to her lips, hoping that once those perfect clouds touch my cock, I don’t explode.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lilith

  His cock is huge.

  Even the vein running along the length of it is intimidating. It protrudes with pulsating blood, filling the long rod to full mast. I’m not sure if I can fit my mouth around it, but I definitely wish to try. For years, I wondered how big his cock was. There would be times I would find myself taking a quick glance at the bulge in his pants when we were younger, just so I could get an idea of what this moment would be like.

  And holy goddess, I am not disappointed.

  His thickness is heavy, weighted down by the sheer size of it. M
y mouth waters and my tongue flicks out as he settles over my head, guiding his cock to my mouth. A drop of pre-come falls onto my lip, and I eagerly lick it off. It’s salty but sweeter than I expected it to be. Humming, I wrap my lips around the helmet and suck deeply, causing Beowulf to tremble.

  “Just like that, Angel. That feels so good. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.” He stares down at me with blown pupils and wraps my hair in his fist to keep it out of my face since spit is dribbling down my chin. It’s messy, but it’s hot. My pussy is getting wetter by the minute the longer I have my mouth on him.

  His head tilts back with a grunt, showing off his tightly corded neck muscles. My hands rub up his thighs until they curl around and squeeze the meat of his ass. Beowulf starts to move his hips, shoving a bit more of his length down my throat with every thrust until I gag. I succumb to the urge to touch my own throbbing bundle of nerves. I dip my hand between my legs and groan around the mouthful of cock—I’m soaked. My juices are dripping down my inner thighs, and my virgin hole aches to be filled. It actually, physically hurts.

  “Does sucking my cock turn you on, Angel?” Beowulf puts his chin to his chest to lock his blue eyes on mine. His beard shines from my juices, lodging a whimper in my throat. It can’t get out. It’s trapped since his cock is blocking its escape.

  I nod earnestly. I love the taste of him. I’ve been dreaming of us in every position. I’ve daydreamed of us having sex, his cock slowly sliding in and out of me while I would be sitting right next to him in the field, soaking up the sun. The sun was always hot, but Beowulf made me hotter. And now I’m getting everything I ever wanted. It’s a little later in life than I hoped, but it’s better than never.

  I don’t think I could have gone the rest of my life without the taste of him. His strength, the bravery, the primal animal lurking beneath his skin. I crave it. Have craved it since I realized what boys and girls could really do together.

  “That’s enough.” He rips his large cock from between my lips and keeps his hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head. He brings his face down, his eyes hot as burning coals, and my mouth drops open when he licks the shell of my ear. I had no idea how sensitive I was there. “If I shall come, it won’t be down your throat to go to waste.”

 

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