I stared out at my village, my home. Everyone gathered by the shore, lining the white-pebbled beach, their welcoming smiles letting me know where my heart was. I turned and looked at Ingrid. I’d wrapped a thick fur around her, her slender body so much smaller than mine.

“Home,” I said, the pride in my voice evident. She nodded and smiled, and I wanted to pull her in right then and there and kiss her until she was breathless. To think I’d gone on this mission to end the lives of demons, to take them down and bring peace within my village, only to find my future wife. I brought her in close then, needing her right beside me, protected, safe.

I glanced at Thorsen and Viggo, both men keeping their warrior expressions in place, their hardened exteriors the type of men they were…the type of men we all were. They just hadn’t found the one woman they wanted to claim, to make theirs. Rutting between furs was all they’d know unless they could feel that pull, that need to fight heaven and hell, the very gods, to make sure this female stayed right by their sides.

And when their time came—and I knew it would—they’d fall to their knees, just like I had when I’d first seen Ingrid.

Once we were docked and off the ship, I led her through the village. I assumed she noticed the way people regarded us, the way they showed their respect in addressing their leader. I took her toward my hut, wanting her to get out of the chilled air, needing to get her alone. It was nice having her close on the ship, but we were never fully alone. I wanted to be able to look at her, make her comfortable, and see that pleasure wash over her face. I wanted to be the male that gave her what she needed.

“You lead the village, their king?” she asked, the fur still wrapped tightly around her. I wanted to rip it off, to see what lay beneath.

“I do. I am, although I don’t want to be held in that regard. I make sure they are fed, protected. I make sure they are safe with the help of the other men.” I lowered my head slightly, my focus on her, watching as she looked around. “It’s why we went after the raiders. They took from us, put this community in danger, killed friends and family. I couldn’t stand for that, couldn’t let them get away with what they’d done.” I could see the question in her eyes. She probably thought Vikings were all the same, and I suppose in a sense we were all alike in that we wanted to provide.

“You don’t take from others?” Her voice was soft, as if she were hesitant in asking the question. I’d never hurt her, and she’d come to find that out soon enough. My priority was making sure she was happy and safe.

“We have, but we don’t kill for sport. We kill to protect, to keep what’s ours. If we need something to make our village thrive, we don’t question how to get that, how to provide. If someone stands in our way, trying to stop us from making sure we can get what we need for our people, we take them down.” I cupped her cheek. “But the raiders we killed, they’d been out for nothing but blood. Raping, killing, that was their sport. They were not true men, not males that cared about anything but themselves. Hurting others is what gave them pleasure, not making sure their people survived.”

She nodded, and I could see she understood what I meant. I focused on the village again, seeing my hut in the distance. We made our way closer, and I pushed the wooden door open for her, allowing her to enter first. There wasn’t much to it, but it was warm, a fire already roaring from a villager who’d no doubt seen our approach. My bed was thick, the furs making up the pallet more than wide enough to accommodate both of us and keep my wife warm.

“I’ll have some food brought in, and then get a bath ready for you.”

The way she looked at me, the appreciation in her eyes, made me feel proud I could give her this. I quickly found Finn, a young boy desperately wanting to become a skilled warrior. He ran off to get my female food, as well as hot water for her bath.

“You were born into it, this position?”

I took a step closer to her, saw the way her pulse beat frantically beneath her ear. “No.” I took another step closer. “I fought for the title, killed the tyrant who had led us.” Her eyes only widened a fraction. I could see on her face that this wasn’t news to her. She had lived in a village, and most practices were done most places. If you wanted to rule, you needed to be willing to die, to kill for it.

I looked into her eyes and reached out to grab her hand. Her skin was warm and soft. Her palm fit perfectly in mine. She was just so small everywhere, so tiny, feminine. I wanted her right then and there, but her needs came first, not the other way around.

She gave me a smile, and the sight had every part of me rising up, needing to say fuck the bath, fuck the food. I wanted to make her feel good, meet her needs that way. It might be hard to control myself, but I wouldn’t be an animal with her, not the first time at least. I wanted Ingrid comfortable with my touch, craving it, begging me for it. And once she was soft and ready, primed for me, then I’d spread her thighs and push my cock deep into her body. I watched as she lowered her gaze to my chest, then lower to my leathers. Her eyes widened, and I knew she was taking in the stiff erection pressed against the material.

My cock was big, just like the rest of me. I’d need her stretched, primed, and ready for when I took her for the first time, for when I claimed her pussy as mine.

Finn entered, a crate of food in his arms. Another young man pulled in a bath basin. Finn set the crate down and went out, coming back a few moments later carrying two jugs of water. He filled the basin and left the hut, doing this over and over until the basin was filled with steaming hot water. The other young man had been setting up a table and food. A feast was spread out, a bath was prepared, and my woman would be well taken care of.

“Come, my sweet Ingrid.” I gestured for her to come closer, needing her to obey, to give in to me. I saw the way she eyed my body, the arousal in her gaze, the confusion that she could feel anything for me after such a short time. I was a man and she was my woman, and I wasn’t letting her go. I couldn’t.

I would bathe her and run my hands along her smooth, creamy skin. I’d wash her hair, let the wet strands move between my fingers, and watch as she reacted to my touch. Then I would take her to bed. I wanted it to be gentle, sweet for the first coupling, but I was a warrior, a skilled fighter, a killer. I was raw and untamed on the best of days, and taming my passion for her was almost an unspeakable promise.

I was hardened, but I’d be gentle. I could be gentle.

I lowered myself down and started undoing her boots. I worked the leather off, rubbing her feet in the process, and looked up at her from my crouching position. Once those were off and to the side, I went for her pants, then her shift. She didn’t stop me, and in fact breathed harder, her little hands in fists at her sides, as if she had a hard time controlling herself. I knew all about that. I placed my hands on her waist, moving my thumbs over her smooth skin, and although she was now naked for me, I kept my focus on her face. And when I looked down at her mouth, I held in a groan at the fact that her lips were red and slightly swollen. She’d been biting them, bringing the blood to the surface.

“You want me, wife?” I asked, feeling my eyes growing heavy-lidded. She licked her lips and nodded, and I didn’t hold in my moan then. “Then we’ll bathe together. I’ll wash you, make you clean, feel good.”

She breathed harder, her full breasts rising and falling. I looked my fill then, taking in the creaminess of her skin, the way her nipples were pink and hard. Her waist was tucked in, tiny. She was so small compared to me, almost fragile. And between her legs... I ran a hand over my face, feeling the scruff under my palm. Blond hair covered her pussy, but I could see her slit, knew she was wet for me.

Despite the fact that the hut was warm, so warm I felt beads of sweat line my back, I saw her flesh pucker as if she were chilled. I started removing my clothes, and when I was nude, I let her have her fill of me. She looked at my chest, moved lower yet, and when she looked at my cock, her eyes widened slightly. My dick was hard, so hard it ached. I wanted to touch myself, to ease some of the strain I felt, but I refrained. I didn’t want to be a bastard about this. I wanted Ingrid to be the one to pleasure me, to touch me, to see what she did to me in all ways.

My dick jerked with every second she looked at me.

I held my hand out. “Come here, Ingrid.” My voice was pitched low. I was immensely pleased that she came to me right away, slipping her hand into mine, allowing me to pull her into the hardness of my body.

“I want to bathe with you, want to wash you, tend to you.” I watched as she swallowed, the slender line of her throat working from the act. “You want that, don’t you?” I felt pleasure when she nodded, when the little pants of her warm breath went along my chest. I was hard as fucking stone right now, and tonight I’d claim Ingrid as mine.