Chapter Eighteen
Halvor rode swiftly to Asmund and Nadir’s farm. He hadn’t taken the wagon, just hoisted Duna onto the steed with him and headed for the hills.
But unlike when they’d first arrived at the farmstead, from the port, now she sat in front of him, holding Ivan’s mane and enjoying having Halvor’s arms around her as he held the reins.
She felt safe in his embrace, and excited about the day ahead. The sun was shining and the meadows were dotted with flowers. Above them birds soared, and several times they’d startled rabbits who’d dashed out of their way with their fluffy white tails bobbing.
When they arrived at Asmund’s he was busy butchering a boar.
Halvor pulled Ivan to a halt. The horse snorted at the carcass and backed up a few paces.
“Steady there,” Halvor said, before speaking in his native dialect to Asmund.
Asmund’s eyes widened then he nodded and replied.
But before he’d finished, Nadir rushed from the house drying her hands on a rag. “You are to be married!” She threw her head back and laughed. “I am not surprised.”
“You are not?” Halvor asked.
“No. The way you looked at her when you visited, Halvor. There was much more in your eyes than a master pleased with his new slave.” She pressed her hand over her chest. “You have been in love with your Celtic woman for a while; you cannot tell me I am wrong.”
Halvor chuckled, his chest moving against Duna’s back. “No, I cannot tell you that. She is an incredible woman and I want to care for her and protect her for the rest of my life.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Duna’s head. “However this stubborn Celt of mine will not take to my bed until she has said vows before a reverend, it is her beliefs.”
“We,” Duna interrupted. “We both have to say the vows.”
“Aye, I have heard of this,” Nadir said. “It is their way.”
“And I want to do whatever makes her happy,” Halvor said.
“And whatever it takes to get her into your bed.” Nadir gave him a knowing smile.
“Aye, that too.” He pointed ahead. “Where does this reverend live?”
“Yonder that hill,” Nadir said. “But Asmund will go and get him.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I think it will.” Nadir reached for Duna’s hand. “Your bride needs to look like a bride, not a woman who has been sitting on a steed for an hour with the sun flushing her cheeks.”
Duna looked down at her dark green dress. She was wearing her precious steel brooch—something she normally kept safely tucked on a shelf for fear of losing it—and it held a paler green shawl in place over her shoulders.
“She looks perfect,” Halvor said.
“I agree, but on her wedding day there are a few things Celt women like.”
“You know a lot about this.” There was irritation in Halvor’s voice.
“I am old and wise.” She laughed. “And I spend time sharing wine with the reverend, he likes to talk about his travels, and the traditions he’s encountered along the way.” She paused. “Be patient, son of mine, and you will not be disappointed. Come, Duna. Come with me.”
Halvor swung down then reached for her.
As Duna’s feet hit the ground, Nadir spoke to Asmund. He appeared to make a mild complaint and pointed at the boar, but then he set off around the side of the longhouse.
“Halvor,” Nadir said, curling her fingers with Duna’s. “You may get a cask of ale and sit in the sunshine to await the reverend.”
He frowned. “How long will that be?”
“You have waited months, a few more hours will not hurt.”
He huffed and walked toward the door of the longhouse.
Nadir chuckled and pulled Duna close. “He is not the most patient of men. I’m surprised he’s shown so much with you.”
“I fear it has given him some pain.”
“In his breeches, yes.” She led Duna away from Ivan who’d wandered over to a patch of long grass. “But it does not do long-term damage for them to wait, and you, Duna, have found yourself one of the best Viking men I have ever known to be your husband.”
“He is the only Viking I would take as my husband.”
“I knew you were wise.” She nodded ahead. “Look, daisies, let’s collect some to put in your hair. The white petals will go so well with your black locks.”
An hour later Duna sat in the longhouse by a fire, which held a pot of mutton stew, and holding a cask of ale.
Nadir was fussing with her hair, filling it with flowers. “Where did you get this hair color?”
“From my mother,” Duna said. “Hers was longer than mine, past her waist.”
“I would love to have such a color. Mine was white, before it went silver, now it is like a polished sword.”
“Which is very pretty.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
Duna smiled. It was nice to have female company after so long. She’d missed her friends from the island.
“When you have bairns,” Nadir said, “you must let me come and help you during the…” She paused. “What is it called in your tongue?”
“Labor, which means hard work.”
“Aye, it is hard work. I will come and tend you.”
“I do not know when that will be.”
“In about nine moons time.” She nodded at the door. “If ever there was a man born to sire warrior sons, it’s that one.”
Duna nodded, though couldn’t help a little tremble of nerves. Oh, she knew it was the male seed that resulted in bairns, of course she did. But having Halvor’s? He was big, that would mean big babies.
“And you will be strong and capable in labor,” Nadir said. “For you are young, healthy, and I suspect not one to give up easily.”
“No, I don’t like to give up.”
“See, all will be well.” She stilled and tilted her head. “It is time. I can hear the reverend.”
They walked toward an elm tree, dappled shadows littering the ground surrounding it.
When he saw her, Halvor stood straighter and brushed his palms over his leather tunic.
The reverend was a stout man with red cheeks and wore his belt too tight, creating the illusion of an apple wrapped in a tight band as it had grown and over spilled the sides. His rosy jowls didn’t help the image.
But he was kindly, his smile warm, and he took both of Duna’s hands in his as he greeted her, reminding her of an action her father used to do.
The ceremony began.
“Halvor Stein of Gorstein, do you take Duna Terin of…”
“Shet Isles,” she said.
“Duna Terin of Shet Isles, to be your wife in the eyes of God. Protect and care for her through good and harsh times and in all seasons?”
“Aye.” Halvor nodded and took her hands in his.
“You have to say I will.” The reverend raised his bushy eyebrows; several strands were long and gray and curled up toward his forehead.
“Aye, I will.” Halvor nodded solemnly.
“And Duna Terin, do you take this Viking man, Halvor Stein of Gorstein, to be your husband in the eyes of God? To obey and serve him through good and harsh times and in all seasons?”
“I will.”
“Before the witness of God and in his name, I pronounce you man and wife.”
“Husband and wife?” Halvor said with a frown.
“It’s the same.” Duna smiled up at him. He was so handsome, so unique. With his swirling ink around his right eye, his long blond hair, and his square jaw. She’d never seen eyes so blue, or eyes that looked at her with such love.
“Husband and wife,” the reverend said with a smile. “You may kiss your bride, Halvor Stein.”
Halvor didn’t smile; instead he released her hands, dragged her close, and set a kiss on her lips that left no doubt about his unholy intentions.
She gasped and fell into his embrace. He was the only man she’d ever kissed, and the only man she ever would kiss.
Nadir clapped, Asmund laughed.
The reverend chuckled. “I wish you both the best.”
Halvor pulled back, but didn’t release Duna.
The fire in his eyes caused her to tremble. Her new husband was a desirous man with needs—needs he was no longer required to keep in check.
He stooped and slotted his shoulder against her abdomen.
The next thing she knew she was being lifted into the air, the way she had been when he’d stolen her from her village.
Her hair fell forward, several flowers fluttering to the ground, and she reached for his belt as something to hold onto.
Slap.
“Oh!” He’d whacked his hand over her ass, then left it there.
“Thank you, reverend, and you, too, Asmund and Nadir, but it is time for us to leave.”
“What about the wedding meal?” Nadir said. “I have broth on the fire.”
“It’s not food I’m hungry for,” Halvor said. “Though I appreciate your kindness.”
Duna gasped as he spun and began to stride toward Ivan.
“Goodbye, Duna,” Nadir called. “Have fun.”
Fun! She was sure what Halvor had in store for her would be many things, but she wasn’t sure if fun was one of them.
He lifted her onto Ivan and she gripped the horse’s mane, waiting for a wave of dizziness to pass and catching her breath.
“Are you well, wife?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He leaped on behind her, wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her tight against his chest, and reached for the reins.
“Hy, hy,” he called to Ivan and dug his heels in.
Ivan seemed to gather his energy beneath himself, then sprang forward into a fast canter.
Duna clung tighter to his mane as they raced away from Asmund and Nadir’s longhouse. The wind caught in her hair and she was glad of Halvor’s strong arm around her.
They traveled in the direction of home, passing several pastures, and following the river, but just before they reached their land, Halvor pulled Ivan to a halt.
“What are we doing?” she asked, looking at the elderberry bushes to her right.
“I’m not waiting until we get home,” he said, slipping from Ivan and landing with a thud on the ground.
She gulped when she saw the iron set of his jaw. “Not waiting for what?”
“You know what, Duna.” He gripped her waist and pulled her from Ivan.
She was in his arms again and he was kissing her. This kiss was urgent, his tongue tangling with hers and his hands roaming to her ass and pulling her closer, closer still.
Her heart rate picked up. His erection was prodding her stomach through their clothing. And it was as big as she remembered.
He took several paces away from the horse, then turned and urged her to sit on the long meadow grass. He then kissed her, and his lips didn’t leave hers as he pressed over her until she was lying flat on her back…
“You have my mind spinning and my body aching,” he murmured against her lips. “And now I have to relieve that ache.”
He dragged at her dress, bunching it up around her waist, then pushed at her undergarments.
She helped him and kicked them off. Her cunny trembled. This was it, the moment she’d both feared and longed for.
His breaths were coming hard and fast. His eyes were narrowed, his movements swift and efficient. It was as if he’d become possessed, only one thing existed in his world.
Getting inside her and spilling his seed.
He fumbled with the button on his breeches. “Spread your legs, wife.”
She gulped and did as he’d asked.
His cock sprang free, but he didn’t grip it, instead he brought his hand to his mouth and spat in his palm. “I hope you’re wet for me,” he said. “But if not, this will help.”
He reached down and gripped his cock, coating it in saliva. He then arrowed the tip at her entrance.
She held her breath. The domed head of his glans was impossibly wide. It would never fit.
“Relax, my little Celt wife, try to let me in,” he said. “It will be better for you.”
He pushed forward.
Despite her wanting him so badly, her body resisted and she cried out.
But he didn’t stop. He continued to forge in, staring into her eyes as he did so.
With effort she managed to relax a little and accommodate him. He took full advantage and drove in deeper.
He groaned and his eyelids drooped. “Your cunny is Valhalla.”
“Halvor,” she gasped. She couldn’t take it all. She’d been right, he was too big.
“You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “We fit perfectly.” Sweeping his mouth onto hers, he curled his hips forward and thrust in to full depth.
A stitch of pain sliced through her cunny. She gasped and closed her eyes.
Almost immediately he pulled mostly out, then shoved balls deep again.
Duna gripped his tunic and struggled to catch her breath. She was so full of him. He’d taken control of her body, buried so deep into her. But he did fit. She had taken him.
“Take pleasure,” he gasped. “From my body.”
“I… I don’t know how.” The pain was easing. A sense of elation went through her that she could accommodate her husband’s cock.
He rested more heavily on her, and his body rubbed over the nub in her cunny he’d stroked with his tongue the night before; the nub that had resulted in a mind-blowing experience that resembled thunder and lightning shooting through her body.
“Ah, yes, Halvor.”
“That’s it,” he said. “Take it there, find pleasure… but don’t be too long about it, woman.”
He picked up the pace. Not kissing her now, but staring down at her with a look of concentration.
What he was doing with his hips, rolling over her nub was incredible. And along with the intense filling in her cunny, his cock thick and hard, she was soon able to feel the buildup of pressure she’d enjoyed the night before.
“Is it there?” he asked, sweat dampening his brow and his hair falling forward.
“Yes… yes… nearly.”
He gritted his teeth. “Odin, give me strength.”
“Oh, Halvor, it’s so…”
“Let it take you.”
She clapped her hands over his cheeks and held his face to hers, then allowed the pressure to release. Bliss burst through her cunny. Her belly tightened and it was hard to breathe.
“Ah, fuck.” His eyes widened. “Your cunny, squeezing me like… that.” He threw his head back and roared, the way he had at the lake.
As her pleasure extended, his cock throbbed inside her.
She knew his seed was releasing and she clung to his wide shoulders, loving how it felt to be giving the man she adored such pleasure.
He shook, his muscles were like iron, and he pounded harder and deeper.
And then he stilled. He lowered his head from the sky and stared down at her. “My love,” he said. “That was better than I’d ever dared hope it could be.”
“I feel the same.”
“I did not hurt you?”
“No…” It had a little, to start with, but she didn’t want to worry him. “It was good, more than good.”
“And you found female pleasure, the way you did last night on my tongue.”
“Yes. I didn’t know that happened for a woman during coupling.”
“I wouldn’t have known if it hadn’t been for a wench down at the port teaching me about it.”
“Do not talk of other women, for we are married now.”
“It was a long time ago.” He kissed her. “And I promise to only sink my cock into your cunny, for as long as we both live.”
“That’s a good promise.”
He withdrew then flopped onto his back and rested his forearm over his eyes. He blew out a breath. “And it must be reciprocated; I am the only man who will ever touch you, from this point forward.”
“You are the only man who ever has or ever will.” She propped onto her elbow and slid her hand into the gap in his tunic, between two buttons and stroked over his nipple.
He turned to her. “What are you doing?”
“You like touching me, I want to touch you, husband.”
“My body doesn’t hold the same interest as yours.”
“It does to me.”
“It does?”
She could feel heat rising on her cheeks. “Of course. You are a handsome warrior, full of strength and power. I want to admire that about you.”
“In that case.” He sat, fisted his tunic between his shoulder blades and drew it over his head. “Here I am.” He tossed the clothing aside and lay back down.
She smiled and drank in the sight of his naked torso. Broad and sun-kissed, his pectoral muscles were square and his abdominals bricked. His cock was semi-hard, resting on his straw-colored pubic hair, and his breeches shoved down to his thighs.
Slowly she traced his nipples, enjoying the way they tightened beneath her touch.
“Duna?”
“Shh.” She tipped forward and laved the right one with her tongue.
He released a low, rumbling groan and she had to suppress a smile. He was enjoying her treatment of him.
She moved over his body, tugging his left nipple into her mouth and biting it gently.
“Fuck, no woman has ever done that,” he muttered. “You are a surprise a minute, wife.”
“I hope I can keep that up.” She smiled, then resumed kissing over his chest and bestowing attention on his nipples. As she did so, she slid her touch to his waist, over his stomach, and to his navel. She was learning his shape and the heat of his skin. She was surprised when he trembled slightly beneath her touch, especially when she caressed the hair between his belly button and groin.
“Duna,” he murmured. “If you carry on I may have to bury inside your cunny again before we make for home.”
“I would not object to that.”
“Good.” He reached for her dress. “Take this off. If you are seeing me, I wish to see you.”
She allowed him to tug it over her head, and then kicked away her undergarments completely.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his gaze roaming her body. “And with Odin gracing us with a sunny day for our wedding, you are even more so in this dappled light.”
She sat back on her heels and cupped her breasts. “I am glad to please you with my looks.”
“You do, and you will always.”
“Even when my hair is silver and my face creased with wrinkles?”
“I will think you even more beautiful then, because we will have spent our lives together.” He slid his hand to his cock.
Duna followed his movements and was pleased to see he was growing hard again. Her cunny fluttered, she was still damp with his seed, but wanted him inside her once more.
“Sit on me, here,” he said, angling his cock straight up.
“Sit on you… on it?”
“Aye.” He smiled and with his free hand urged her astride his thighs. “That way you can fuck me.”
“I can fuck you?”
“Well, sort of.” He smiled, lines creasing from the edges of his eyes to his temples. “As much as I’ll let you.”
“I’ll take what I can.” She rose up and allowed her cunny lips to brush over the tip of his cock.
“Aye, like that, you’re a natural at this, my beautiful Celt.”
“I have a good teacher.”
He released his cock and gripped her thighs. “Now lower yourself, take me deep.”
“I’ll try.” As she’d spoken she’d sat a little, allowing his cock tip to stretch her entrance.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.
“Am I paining you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “My instinct is to go fast, pull you down, but I want you to enjoy every tiny portion of my cock filling you.”
“I am.” She tipped forward, her hair swinging and placed her hands on his chest. She took him in some more. “Oh… and that…”
“Feels like Valhalla.”
“Something like that.” He was easing in with more grace this time. The glide was smooth and delicious. No pain, just exquisite stretching sensations as his dense cock lodged high.
“More,” he gasped. “Please, all the way. I need you.”
“And I need you.” She held her breath and sat fully on his cock. It was hard to think of anything other than him being inside her, but she took a moment to enjoy his expression of bliss. Her husband was a handsome man, but in this moment, ecstasy gripping him, he was surely the most beautiful man ever to have walked the Earth.
“Ah, fuck, yeah, move, Celt, now.” He’d accompanied his words with a thrust of his hips and clamped his fingers on her thighs. “As if you’re on a horse, going faster and faster.”
Duna rotated her hips, gasping as her nub caught on his body. Quickly she discovered which movement created the building of pressure and caused Halvor to groan in a long, guttural way.
“Take your pleasure,” he demanded after several minutes. “When you can.”
“Yes, Master.”
“And don’t stop, damn it.” He opened his eyes and stared at her. “If you stop I will spank you until your ass is redder than the roses on the pathway.”
“I won’t stop.” Nothing would make her cease the action of her hips. The pleasure had grown inside her. All she had to do now was release it. “Oh… oh… Halvor, it’s here.”
“Take it!”
She tumbled into a wondrous ecstasy that she had total control over. For about three seconds. Then Halvor sat, wrapped her in his arms and thrust his hips upward at the same time as he pulled her down onto him.
He released a roar that tangled with her cries of release.
She shook as sparks of white-hot delight shot over her skin. Her cunny spasmed around Halvor’s cock. His seed poured into her yet again and he yelled out each time more shot from him.
Eventually he stilled though he kept her in his vise-like grip.
“My wife,” he said, kissing her hot cheek. “I knew you were wild from the first moment I saw you.”
“Wild?”
“Wild and wonderful, almost untamable.”
“Almost?” She found his lips and pressed hers to them.
“Aye, almost, because no matter how domesticated I make you, I get the feeling you’re always going to become a wildcat when you’re naked in my arms.”