Chapter Seventeen
Halvor gazed down at the half naked woman sprawled on his bed. He’d meant it when he’d said the runestones had planned their meeting, their ending up here in his home, desiring each other. He truly believed she was destined for him. Never had he felt this way about a woman.
And damn, she was so sweetly innocent, his wife to be.
But that would have to change, at his hand.
He kissed her deeply, enjoying the slight lavender scent of her skin and the taste of her lips and tongue. For so long he’d wanted to kiss her, and now he’d finally given into it.
And thank goodness she seemed to be happy about kissing him back.
Silently he cursed to Odin about her beliefs and needing the reverend. But equally some preparation time, before she did, as she’d said, take his big cock, might serve them well.
He trailed his lips over her cheek, then down her neck.
She arched her back and groaned when he tugged her nipples, squeezing them too.
His cock surged, but he knew it would have to stay confined to his breeches. He was a man of his word, one of the things he prided in himself.
Sliding down the bed a little, he took her nipples into his mouth. They were like sweet berries, taut against his tongue, and so responsive.
“Halvor,” she gasped, gripping his hair. He adored the feel of her fingers on his head, tugging at his hair roots; he could almost gauge how much she was enjoying his attention to her breasts because of it. His one other time of doing this to her felt so long ago. He’d never let such an amount of time lapse again between adoring her body this way.
“You’re small but perfect,” he said, cupping the undersides of her breasts and pushing them together. He licked up her cleavage, wanting more of her taste, more of her in his hands. He just wanted her, all of her.
No. Wait. The time will come.
Slipping lower still, he kissed her navel, then ran his hands over her slender waist and the flare of her hips. He tucked his fingers into her undergarments.
“What… what are you doing?”
“We need these off,” he said.
“But I…”
“Duna, I may be about to be your husband, but that won’t change the fact you have to obey me.”
“Even… even in the marital bed?”
He grinned. Should he push it? Because of course he wouldn’t really do anything sexually he thought she’d hate, or would pain her. His only goal was pleasure for both of them. “Yes,” he said, connecting his gaze with hers. “It’s called trust.”
Her lips parted and she took in a shaky breath, the ripe mounds of her breasts juddering.
He smiled and pulled at her undergarments. He wanted her naked. He wanted to see her, all of her. And after that he wanted to hear her cries of delight, and feel her writhing under his touch.
Sitting back on his haunches, he removed her undergarments. Then carefully he folded them and set them aside. It wasn’t his usual style, to go slow. When he’d come across willing women in the past he’d bent them over, taken them hard and fast.
But Duna was different, she was special to him and he wanted to make this special for her.
Her choosing me is an honor.
“Spread your legs,” he said. “Let me see you.”
She was breathing fast, her eyes wide.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
“You do, Master?”
“So let me admire you, all of you.” He set his hands on her pale inner thighs and eased them apart.
Her cunny was so pretty, so tempting. Again his cock twitched as if begging to be set free. He was pleased to see moisture sparkling on her soft folds. Despite her hesitation, her body was preparing for him.
He stroked up her leg, feather-light touches, then traced through the pink ridges of flesh at her entrance.
“Halvor.” There was a shake in her voice.
“Relax, I need to feel inside you.”
For a moment he hesitated. This would tell him if she’d been speaking the truth about her innocence. He’d been with a virgin before, when he himself was one at the age of fifteen. But what if she was lying to him?
He studied her slim body, her wide trusting eyes, and the way she’d balled her hands into fists.
Everything in him believed her, which meant he had work to do.
He pushed in, just one finger, her wet heat surrounding him.
She gasped and held her breath.
Her delicate, undeniable tightness stopped his progress.
“Sweet Celt of mine,” he said. “You are a wild woman, and also an innocent one.”
“Master, I fear I’m deformed, we will not be able to join.”
He loomed up over her, and stared into her eyes. “That is not true, you are perfect. And now…” He kissed her gently. “I’m going to make sure we do fit, morrow, when we are wed.”
“Yes, yes, I want that.”
He smiled, then again kissed down her body. He felt calmer now, there was no rush. He wanted her to relax into his touch, and get used to the fact he was going to be touching her, a lot.
“Hold onto my hair,” he said when he kissed over her navel.
She did as instructed.
He moved lower down the bed and pushed her legs wider.
“Halvor, what are you doing?”
He didn’t reply, instead he kissed over her patch of dark pubic hair and wriggled his finger inside of her.
“Oh…” she gasped, tightening her hold on his hair.
“You need to trust me,” he said. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
“I don’t doubt that. That ginger, it—”
“There is no ginger root today, and it is not the time for me to breach your ass with my cock. So try and relax and let your body find its pleasure.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You can, and you will. Because I’m not stopping until I’m satisfied you’ve had as much pleasure as you can take.” He eased another finger into her, but he could only go up to the first joints on his fingers.
Damn, she’s tight.
She groaned and flopped back on the bed.
“Good,” he said. “Hand yourself over to me.” He licked over her folds.
“Oh, God and all the saintly ghosts.” She yanked his hair. “What are you doing?”
“That is not of your concern,” he said a little harsher than he’d intended. “Keep still and let me do my work.”
She muttered something he didn’t catch.
He licked her again, sought out her little nub and circled it with the tip of his tongue. He adored her taste, soapy and clean and with an undeniable tang of desire.
He set up a steady rhythm, working her clit with determination.
She was breathing heavily, and had clamped her legs against him.
After several minutes, he began to pump his fingers in and out of her. She was wet and getting wetter, but still the tightness remained.
“Halvor,” she gasped. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
He didn’t answer.
“It feels so…” She pulled at his hair and canted her hips for more of his tongue. “What you’re doing, it’s making me want to burst inside…”
She was getting close, he was sure of it. But it wasn’t time yet. He had to wait for the right moment, so he wouldn’t hurt her—or at least not too much.
He laved at her clit. It was swollen and taut. He wished he could play with her nipples too, but he needed to be inside her at the moment of her climax.
“Oh, oh, oh…” She bucked up, then pressed her buttocks into the bed. She arched her back and held her breath.
Now.
He increased the pressure of his two fingers, which were seated inside her, pushing them through the tension, and disregarding the resistance.
She cried out, but it was a pleasure-soaked sound, and clamped her legs tighter around him.
Still he kept on pushing, until finally, he felt her flesh give and he was buried knuckles deep. Her delicate walls were fluttering around his fingers and her clit pulsing against his tongue.
Her cries and gasps echoed around the room, filling his head and making his cock feel as if it would explode.
It would be worth giving up Valhalla to feel that around his manhood.
He continued pleasuring her, riding through her release, and eking out every gasp from her he could.
His scalp pained him, she was dragging on it with such force.
Eventually she released his hair. He lifted up to study her face, but kept his fingers buried deep.
She was propped on her elbows staring down at him. Perspiration sat on her brow and top lip and she was breathing fast.
He grinned. “Did that feel good?”
“What… what was that?”
“A woman’s pleasure,” he said. “The moment when it all comes together.”
“It… it was incredible. I’ve never…”
“Well, you have now, and you will again soon, morrow, with my cock inside you. And then again the day after and the day after that.”
He looked as his hand with his two fingers buried inside her. He withdrew and spotted a few streaks of blood. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No, Master. It took a moment to get used to you… being down there, with your mouth and fingers, but no, you didn’t hurt me.”
“Good. I never intended to but feared I might, a little.”
He shifted on his haunches; damn, his cock hurt. A weaker man would shove off his breeches and fuck the woman lying wet and naked before him.
I want her so much.
He moved from the bed. It took a moment to stand straight, his groin ached so.
There’s only one thing for it.
He stepped away.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to… check on Raven. You should bathe again.”
“But…”
“And sleep in your own bed.” He clenched his fists and made for the door. “For the last time.”
He was but a mere mortal, and even after he’d found release, outside beside the barn, coming back indoors and seeing her in his bed would likely push his self-control to the breaking point.
* * *
Duna drew her legs together and watched him leave. Why was he walking so strangely?
Her cunny felt damp, satisfied, and a little stretched. She could still feel his fingers inside her, his tongue on her… there.
She pressed her fingers over her lips. What a thing to do. To have a man kiss her between the legs, make her flail and cry out, allow him to render her mindless with pleasure. A state her friend had spoken of only doing when alone.
‘You will again soon, morrow, with my cock inside you. And then again the day after and the day after that.’
His words came back to her. So that’s what was in store for her. That was what being married would be like. Was that true for all women? Or was it only Viking men who had such mastery of the female form?
She rose from the bed, feeling a little shaky, but was unable to wipe a smile from her face. Her thighs slicked together, and she tipped some hot water into the bathtub, then sank in again.
It was hard to believe the turn of events. She and Halvor had been working alongside each other for weeks, enjoying the summer sun and preparing for harsher weather. She’d found she missed him when he spent long hours in the field, or took the sheep up onto the hill to graze.
And now…
She stared into the flames. By becoming his wife she’d truly accepted her fate to live here, with him, forever. It shifted her mind-set. No longer a captive, but a woman who’d picked this life. Not that she’d thought of escape for a long time.
I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
That thought sent a traitorous sensation over her skin and she scrubbed herself with the soap. Her poor father was likely still frantic about her, wondering what her fate had become. Yet here she was, happy… yes, happy, and about to become a bride.
Quickly she rinsed, then stood, allowing the water to run from her body. After stepping out, she dried and found clean undergarments and a dress that wasn’t ripped.
She filled a bowl with food, then instead of sitting at the table, she went to her own bed and slipped beneath the blanket. Misty joined her and curled up at her side.
Halvor was outside for a long stretch of time. When he came indoors, Duna was snuggled under her blanket with her eyes closed. She was vaguely aware of him moving about, getting a meal then emptying out the bathwater, but she didn’t stir. There’d been something in his tone when he’d told her to sleep in his own bed that made her think she should lay low.
Soon he, too, went quiet and still. Duna then allowed herself to drift off to sleep. Her last night as an unwed maiden.
But her dreams were fitful. Esca was there, his features twisted with hurt, confusion… anger. He was ghostly, and she was trying to reach for him but couldn’t. Somewhere in her sleeping mind she wondered if he hated her for marrying a Viking. If he was trying to communicate from the other side of the grave, and tell her not to do it.
Then he was at the lake, here, by Halvor’s longhouse. Dressed in leather breeches and a woolen tunic he held a sword, one she’d never seen before. His reddish hair was longer than usual and he was staring at her. His eyes wide, his mouth parted as if not believing what he was seeing—her, happy, in love, and with her husband.
“Duna, Duna, wake up.”
“Mmm.” She twisted on the bed and Misty meowed a complaint then jumped down.
“Duna, it’s morning.”
She opened her eyes. The night had gone so fast.
“Here.” Halvor held out a cask. “Milk and honey, to give you strength for the day ahead.”
She smiled and reached out to touch his jawline. He’d shaved and his skin was soft. “Thank you.”
He stood and turned. “Do not be long. I wish for us to leave as soon as the morning chores are completed.”
“Yes, Master.” She sipped the warm drink and it slipped over her tongue and throat. Today was a big day for her, possibly the biggest in her life.
If only it hadn’t started with Esca’s face in her dream. She’d known deep down she’d never wanted to marry him. Now that she had Halvor in her life, a man she did want to marry, she knew how it was supposed to feel. But Esca had been a kind man and a dear friend all of her life.
It made her heart ache to think he was in heaven and hadn’t been given the chance to find happiness. His passing made her sad.