Vikings' Brides Box Set

by Jessica Knight

  “Einarr,” she cries, the blush from her face spreading to her chest. Beautifully red. Every part of her.

  Muscle spasms tremor the walls inside her pussy, tightening like a vice around my girth. I cannot stop the sounds of pleasure escaping my mouth, even if I tried. With every rock of her hips, her pussy is wetter, her noises are louder, and I get closer to the edge.

  My weighted sack slaps against her succulent arse. With every move of her body, she does something different, whether she tilts her hips, adds more pressure, strokes me instead of rocking against me. I never have to tell her what I want. She already knows. Our bodies, our souls, they are attuned. Even with her never being with a man before, she takes me higher than any woman ever has.

  It makes me wish my past wasn’t so foolish. I wish Thyra and I had met all those years ago, came together for our first times and would have been each other’s last. I do not regret my past, but Thyra deserved someone better than a man who had sex with any woman that he could. I can’t change anything about who I was, but I can be better for Thyra. I can be the man she deserves for the rest of her life.

  Her teeth digging into my chest, make my fingers dig into the soft soil of the ground. I roar the pain into the woods and come the moment it turns to pleasure. She is releasing too, and all I can think about is how her spasms, her strong, beautiful orgasms, are pulling my seed deeper into her body, hopefully taking root.

  Now that she is done, I grab the key in my hand, wrapping my dirt-covered fingers around the thick iron, and lift her limp body off the earth’s floor. I would be concerned if it wasn’t for her hands circling around her clit.

  She’s going to be the death of me with actions such as that.

  I slide the key into the hole, grumbling when I think of my cock in the same way. I shake my head, trying to think clearly. I just must get us inside, and then I can take her on every surface of this home.

  Once the lock slides to the left, I use my foot to kick it open. It slams against the wall behind it, and it shuts from the force. I slide the lock in place and lay her on the bed to the right. I settle her body on the abundance of furs, spread her legs, and pull out of her. It earns us both a groan. Our essence seeps out of her swollen hole.

  And my mouth waters.

  Like a starving animal, I dive in, sucking the bundle of nerves between my lips and shoving one, then two, then three fingers up her pussy. She screams, pulls my hair, and wiggles her body around so much that it is hard for me to stay latched on her sensitive pearl. I fuck her fast with my fingers, the wet sounds filling the cabin with our first love-making here. We have officially consummated not only our marriage but our home away from home.

  Another gush of fluid enters my mouth as she comes again. I love the sound of her screaming my name at the top of her lungs. There isn’t a better song. I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and my hands land on her wide hips.

  Since she is weightless after two orgasms, flipping us is easier than I expected. I lay flat on my back, grabbing my hard, leaking cock, that is still oozing come, and hold on to it. She slides her heat down the ten inches of flesh that is harder than pure fucking steel. Her hands grip my chest, digging those nails in again.

  My gorgeous, beautiful, incredible wife flips her hair to the other shoulder, and rides me hard, fast, and unforgiving.

  My fists slam against the floorboard when the familiar tingle in my spine warns me of another orgasm. Fuck, I used to last so much longer, but with her, I’m quicker than an arrow’s flight.

  A delirious smile overtakes her face as she looks at the ceiling; her fingers hold onto the sides of her hair, completely out of her mind with passion. I’ve never seen a prettier sight. Thyra’s body is illuminated from the glow of the candles glowing in the corner. My fingers slide against her skin when I try and grab on her hips, but her flesh is still wet from the hot spring.

  Tossing my head back, I pinch my eyes closed and try and bite the inside of my cheek to try and stop myself from coming, but it’s no use. With every rock of her hips, come spurts from my cock in small bursts from my effort to contain it.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I sit up fast, snaking my hand to the back of her head and pull her to me so I can take her lips again. Between each slide of our mouths, I moan, grunting as our pelvises meet, rock after rock of her hips. I keep coming, but I do not want her to know. I want her to keep going. I want her to keep chasing how good she feels, and I never want it to stop.

  Everything is sensitive. I grip her arms and do all I can to not cry out. I swallow the sounds down my throat. A few more seconds go by, and the sensitivity fades. I take a deep breath and find myself over her luscious pink nipples.

  I moan, tasting her flesh beneath the thin layer of sweat and water. Her skin bunches under my fingers as I yank her closer to me. I’m greedy. I want more. More of her. I want to taste her again.

  But before I can really enjoy the taste, she pushes me back against the furs, grips on to my chest, and moves her wide hips faster. My hand comes down on her arse with a hard slap.

  “Ride that cock, my love. Fuck me.” My voice rumbles as my hand comes down on her arse again.

  With a lick of her lips, she nods. “You feel so good, Einarr. You fit inside me like you were made to.”

  My hand smacks her arse again. “I was. I was made to be inside you, to fill you up, to make you mine.” I bite her bottom lip and let it go with a loud pop.

  We are both sweating and panting, grunts and groans escaping us as our lovemaking goes on and on, just like I wanted. I’ve lost count to how many times Thyra has come. I’ve lost count of how many times I have too. I never want to stop. I want to keep unloading every ounce of my seed into her channel until I know, that without a doubt, Thyra is pregnant tonight.

  Her nails scratch down my back with her last raspy scream as she comes on my cock, collapsing on me, spent. I grunt my release, but it’s dry. There is nothing left for me to give her. I smile, plan achieved. We kiss, slow and exhausted, but sated.

  Oh, so fucking sated, my sack aches.

  We lay for a long time, saying nothing. Only listening to our breaths rising and falling.

  “You think this will ever change?”

  The question takes me aback, and I tighten my arm around her. “What do you mean? Everything changes.”

  “This. Us. The passion. The intensity. I never want it to go away. You make me high, the feeling you give me.”

  I take her face in my hand and gaze into her beautiful green eyes. “This. This love growing within us will only get stronger because I plan on loving you even after my death. The sex is only a part of it, but it gets better every time I touch you.” I rub my knuckles down her breast. “And my cock gets harder every time.”

  “Aye?”

  I take her hand and put it over my heart. “You’ve found my lost soul and made me have a home with you.”

  This woman has changed my life, taken it from darkness and violence, filling it with light and love. That’s exactly what she is. She is my love.

  My wife.

  Mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Thyra

  The aches in my body wake me up. I turn over in bed, throwing my arm to the side, expecting to feel Einarr, but it falls on a flat surface. I feel around, somehow thinking his big body will be here somewhere, but all that is in his place are cold linens. Rubbing my eyes, I yawn, wincing as the eternal flame of the sunbeams in my eyes.

  “Goddess, you’re bright today,” I mumble, wrapping the blanket around my body as I stand.

  “Einarr?” I grumble through my sleep-laced voice.

  The cabin is small, perfect for two people. I step down from our bedroom into the living room, and across from the kitchen table is a wood-burning stove with a small fire roaring in it. Einarr is here; I just must find the big man. My feet patter along the wood. The boards creak from my weight.

  My weight.

  Something I haven’t thought twice about s
ince meeting Einarr. He makes me feel beautiful, proud, and sexual. Especially last night. We must have made love until the early morning hours because every part of my body is deliciously sore. My hand pushes against the door to open it, and the warmth of the sun hits my skin harshly. It must be midday by now.

  The ground is damp beneath my feet. When did it rain? I walk over to the hot spring where my life changed for the better, and blush. The ring on my finger feels foreign but in the most wonderful way.

  “Where is he?” I mutter. I know he would never just leave me here. I turn left and right, thinking he is going to come out of the bushes at any moment, but all I hear are birds chirping, the wind rustling the leaves, and the bubbles in the hot spring.

  Letting out a confused breath, I turn around to head back in the cabin when I hear footsteps behind me. I grin, turning my head to my shoulder. “I’ve been wondering where you were.”

  “Is that so?”

  I gasp as a hand lands over my mouth, and rancid breath fills my nostrils. I struggle, but somehow manage to keep the linen over my body. I hit his hands, arms, and kick my legs out, but a blade against my back forces me to be still.

  “Aw, but I thought you were happy to see me.”

  The man spins me around, wrapping his hand around my throat, picks me up, and slams me against the side of the cabin.

  “What is it with you people and not dying?” He rubs his lips against my cheek. “I thought killing the kid would have been a message, but you people just keep on going, don’t you?”

  I struggle against him, trying to get away again, but he tightens his grip again. “We want to know why we weren’t invited to the party,” he pouts, scratching his head with the butt of the blade. “I just want you to know—” he flicks his tongue out, wetting his lips “—I am here to tell you, I am very, very interested.”

  The Jackal runs the cold, sharp silver blade down my neck. I shiver in terror.

  “Very,” he growls. “You are a real woman. You know how many times I’ve imagined this?”

  “I don’t even know you,” I spit, struggling to breathe.

  “But… don’t you?” he asks, stepping closer.

  “No.” I claw at his hands. I need to breathe.

  The man before me has lost his mind. I’ve never seen him anywhere in my life. He has dark hair, almost black, dark eyes to match his cold soul. Branded on his neck is the familiar Jackals symbol.

  “Maybe a hint will help. King Leif cast me aside with my family when I was young. He banned us to the outskirts because my father killed that butcher, allegedly.”

  My eyes widen. No. It can’t be. But the more I look at him, the more all his face starts to puzzle together.

  “Croin,” I whisper. I haven’t seen him since we were just children, running through the lavender fields.

  “Oh, you remember me. I knew we had a connection.” He runs the blade over the pulsating point in my neck. “I have never forgotten you. I’ve watched you, from afar, for so many years. All those lonely walks you took in the woods, thinking you were alone, you weren’t. No, no, no,” he repeats, on the verge of madness. “Never. I would never leave you alone. Not like he did! Him! He left you. I’d never do that to you, ever.” Croin leans forward and tries to kiss me, but I turn my head at the last minute. I never want to feel his lips on mine.

  I never want to feel anyone else’s lips besides Einarr’s.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be coy,” he chuckles. “You’ve always been so sweet. You were always so kind. Then those Vikings came to the Kingdom, and you stopped taking walks in the woods. I couldn’t keep an eye on you anymore! They took that from us. Don’t you miss me?”

  “Croin, we were just children,” I wheeze, struggling against him. “Stop this.”

  He lets go of my throat, and I fall to the ground floor, limp, holding my throat for the second time in my life. I hope to never feel this kind of horror again.

  “Children?” he asks as if I have the audacity to say such a thing. He waves his blade at me, circling it in the air as he paces. “I loved you, Thyra. I loved you so much. I know you loved me too. I know, I know I’ve been a bit absent, and you think you’ve found love again, but can’t you see that man is dangerous? He doesn’t love you. He loves that… that boy more. It’s why I took care of him.”

  Abram. My sweet Abram. He didn’t ask for any of this. This sick bastard is going to come after my family until I willingly go with him.

  I must play this out. I must buy time. I clutch the linen around myself tighter. I wish I would have just gotten dressed, but I wanted to drop my blanket in front of Einarr. “Croin, you know I’ve never liked it when innocent people got hurt. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for hurting that boy,” I sit up, sweating and exhausted by the time I’m able to take in deep breaths.

  He falls to his knees, knife clattering to the ground as he crawls over to me desperately. I resist every urge to cringe and turn my head. The last thing I want to do is look at him. But I must play along.

  “No, no, no. I did it for you. Do you know how long it has taken me to get this close to you? I never thought I’d be able to touch you.”

  Sadness and fear burn behind my eyes, but I blink it away. I’m not sure where Einarr is, but a lingering question burns at the forefront of my mind. Why would he leave me alone? Croin is right about that.

  I turn to face my enemy, fighting to keep my face still, fighting to not show any fear. I must be strong, for Einarr. For Abigale and Abram.

  Another shadow darkens the corner of my eye. I have to keep the happiness and shock out of my expression when Einarr creeps up behind Croin. He places his finger against his lips, toying with a sharp arrow in his hand.

  In his other, two freshly killed rabbits.

  Guilt eats at me. I should have never doubted his love for me. He wouldn’t just leave me alone.

  “Croin, I don’t love you in the same capacity as you think you love me.”

  “Liar! I became a leader for you. I’ve killed for you. I’ve changed everything for you. You will come back with me. You will be mine!” he roars, grabbing for the knife that he lost, only to grab a handful of dirt.

  “Over my dead body,” Einarr roars, shoving the arrow forward, but Croin dives to the left, barely missing the sharp tip.

  “A man who would attack a man who has his back to him is no man at all,” Croin taunts.

  Einarr flips the arrow in his hand and tilts his lips to the left with confidence. “When it comes to my wife, I will stop at nothing to protect her, even if that means killing a man when he cannot see me. I am Viking, after all.”

  “I’m Jackal.” The pride in Croin’s voice makes me shiver. It is nothing to be proud of.

  Einarr tosses his head back and laughs, the boom causing the birds to fly away from the trees.

  “That means nothing.”

  And Einarr throws the arrow, slicing it through the air. It lands between Croin’s eyes. Blood drips down his nose. His knees buckle, sending him to the earth.

  Croin struggles to breathe but turns his head to me for the last time, locking eyes with me. Begging me to save him.

  I spit on him and kick him on the ground. The pain in his eyes, the feeling of betrayal, sears through me. I know I shouldn’t take pleasure in this, but I do. This foul man threatened my family. He hurt the people I love.

  “Thyra,” he whispers to me, horror in his voice.

  Then, he collapses. Dead. His black eyes stare at me with open lids.

  “My love!”

  Einarr runs to me, sliding on the dirt as he lands on his knees. “Fuck, I knew I should have never left you alone. I knew it. I just wanted to make you some breakfast. I fucking knew it.” He runs his hand over the tattoos on his head. He reaches for my neck, running his knuckles over the new bruise on my throat. “I wasn’t here. I’ve failed you.”

  “Einarr, no. We had no idea about this.”

  “We should have never left the kingdom grounds. I k
new the threat of the Jackals. I should have stayed where we would have been protected, but my foolishness led to this. It led to this man putting his hands on you.”

  The wind whips around us, causing his beard to dance. “Einarr, he has been watching me since I was a child. And I had no idea. How were you to handle that? How were you to know I had a stalker? We didn’t know.”

  Something in him has changed. Something I do not think I can fix. I’ve seen this look before. It’s guilt. “Einarr, do not do this. Do not blame yourself. I don’t blame you. This, this was an accident.”

  “Something that never should have happened.”

  “So what? We live the rest of our lives in fear? We can’t go out and live our own lives, make love, have children? Why? Because of men like him? You can take a hundred men like them and kill them all; I know you can.”

  “And what if there is a next time, and I am not here, and I come back to see you gone, or dead? I’d lose myself to the darkness inside me.”

  “Einarr, you are not dark. Nothing about you is dark.” I run my hands over his cheeks, petting his beard. I want to try to soothe him. I am not sure how to make this better for us.

  Einarr picks me up, the blanket falling onto the ground floor, leaving me naked. His boots pound on the floor inside, and with his long legs, he is at the bedside in a few seconds. He lays me down, eyeing my body.

  “Oh, Thyra, when will you see? I am all darkness. I am all death. I am all violence.”

  I grab onto his hands and shake my head, but he puts a finger over my mouth before I am able to say anything.

  “You’re my life. You are my light. You are the sun in the hell I’ve lived in. You are everything that is good. You make me good, but I want to be better. And to do that, I must make sure you are safe. I’m going to take care of the Jackal. I’ll be back. And lock the door. I’ll be right out front, burning the body, and then we will leave.”