Tyra stood near Strian and Bjorn as they skinned the animals.
“I found my three rabbits, but no cows for you,” Bjorn laughed at Strian.
“I’m sure I can feed my hunger nonetheless.” Tyra caught Strian tilting his head toward one of the shieldmaidens from Rangvald’s army. She understood that they were not talking just about rabbits.
“You two are disgusting,” she hissed.
“Then don’t listen, little sister,” Strian teased before taking a rabbit and a couple of squirrels to the fire he built.
This left Bjorn and Tyra alone together again. Bjorn reached over and plucked one of Tyra’s rabbits, but before she had the opportunity to complain, he began to skin the animal for her. Tyra offered her thanks, and they continued in silence. Tyra came close to cutting her finger off when she found she was looking at Bjorn more than she was the animal she was preparing to cook. His hair had come loose and grime still streaked his face, but he had never looked more handsome. His brown eyes snapped between her and the animal he chopped. His muscles rippled as he worked, and Tyra found her mouth going dry. She had stood near Bjorn almost every day of her life, but he seemed bigger, stronger, even more masculine than her ever had before.
“Why do you keep staring at me? Is there something on me? Are you disgusted at my filth?”
“Wha- what?” Tyra stammered. “You are no dirtier than I am. I was trying to figure out how to thank you for rescuing me once more.”
Tyra slammed her mouth shut when she realized what she said. She waited for Bjorn to pounce on her words, but he shrugged as he returned to gutting the rabbit before him.
“I saw you fighting him then I looked over and saw him land on you. There was no way you were going to push his dead weight off you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If your rabbit is ready, I’ll take it to the fire.”
Tyra was once more stunned that he said little more to her than the necessary pleasantries of working near one another. She handed him her meat and watched as he walked away.
The camp was subdued as the group ate, but once the meal was through, the mead horns and whisky jugs began to pass around the fires. The bloodlust was wearing off, and now the warriors welcomed the warmth and escape the alcohol provided as they tried not to recall about what they endured.
Erik grunted as he sat down, but he passed a jug of whisky to Bjorn who took a healthy swig. It moved to Strian before Tyra sniffed it. The smell alone made her cough. She let the liquid pass over her lips and tongue, tasting it. When she realized it had a smoky and peaty taste that she liked, she took a long swig too. She feared she would go up in flames as it burned down her throat and landed in her belly. She wiped her arm across her lips to muffle her cough. Strian clapped her on the back, her cough unpreventable. She pushed him away before taking the jug back from him. Prepared this time, she took several long swallows as the heat slithered along her arms and legs. She was ready for more when she remembered she had to share with the others.
The others laughed as she passed it to Freya who shook her head.
“Oh, no. The last time I was here, I was sure I was drinking ale, but they added whisky to it. I’m aware of what it can do to me.”
Erik pulled her closer and did not even flinch when Freya bumped into his injured side.
“I remember, too.” He kissed his wife in a way that had Freya standing again and dragging her husband away by the hand.
Tyra handed the jug to Strian, but he was looking at the woman he had been watching earlier.
“Go on. Don’t wait until the night is over,” Tyra nudged her shoulder against his. Strian grinned, and Tyra wondered why she could not find herself attracted to Strian. He was just as handsome as the other men, and it would have solved so many of her problems. But when he tousled her hair, she remembered why she thought of him more as a brother.
Rangvald and Lorna sat with their own people and the Sutherlands, so that left Tyra and Bjorn alone with the jug of whisky. They looked at one another before scooting closer together. Tyra pretended to hand the jug to Bjorn before bringing it back to her lips. She took another healthy swig before Bjorn took it from her with a laugh. He took several draws before he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. He offered Tyra the jug, but she shook her head. Her head already weighed a hundred pounds but was moments away from floating away. Bjorn put the jug down between them and looked at the stars twinkling above them. There were no lights flashing across the sky, but the stars looked like someone had thrown sand into the night and it hung suspended over their heads. Tyra watched the fire as the flames hypnotized her. Her head lowering to Bjorn’s shoulder, and it felt so right that she did not fight it. He shifted to wrap his arm around her waist, resting his hand on her hip. Tyra put her hand on his thigh as she shifted to curl into him. She realized what she had done when Bjorn sucked in a breath. She looked down at her hand then up at Bjorn as he clenched his jaw. She twisted further then reached back to move Bjorn’s hand from her hip to her backside.
“What are you doing, Tyra?” he whispered.
“Something I dream about everyday but never let myself do sober.”
She ran her fingers up the inside of his thigh until she got dangerously close to the cock she watched swell.
“Don’t do this, Tyra. You will regret it, and you’ll break my heart.” Bjorn’s voice was little more than a hoarse murmur.
“Break your heart? Like I usually do? Is that what you really want to say?”
Bjorn did not respond as his hand stroked her backside. She tilted her head up to look at him once more, and she watched the muscles in his jaw tick.
“What if I already regret everything else?”
He looked into her hazel eyes, her pupils dilated and her eyes glassy. He wanted to kiss her with every fiber of his being, but he would do nothing that she might hold against him later.
“You’re worried I will blame you for anything that happens. You fear I’ll say you took advantage of me,” Tyra’s hand grazed his cock as she rested it on his belly. Each muscle jerked and tightened as her fingertips glided over the ridges. “Bjorn, I have no one to blame but myself. I’ve held a grudge against you for something I was sure was the truth. You’ve already made me realize I was wrong that day. We both were. Rather than talk to one another, we both assumed the worst. Bjorn, you’ve always been there. No matter what I’ve said to you or about you, you have never given up on me. It’s aggravated me and made me lash out, but it’s the same steadfastness that I have always admired about you. You are brave, but so are the other men of our tribe. I understand now, though, that you are far braver than I ever realized. You have endured trials that few remember or give you credit for overcoming. Bjorn, you haven’t smiled since we left home. I miss it. I miss the way you make me laugh despite how you annoy me. I miss you.”
“What do you want from me, Tyra? How many times am I supposed to come running only to have you kick me? Why can’t you see, or rather accept, what every other person who sees us knows immediately?”
“And when you’re done?”
“Done?”
“Done with me and leave.”
“Woman, I have been in love with you since I was seven. Do you think I will ever be done with you?” Bjorn growled as he lifted her chin.
He lowered his mouth to hers as she opened to him. He brushed his tongue along her lips then the back of her teeth. He opened wider as he tried to devour her. His kiss poured his love and frustration into her. He did not touch any other part of her than where their lips met. His hands dropped away from her backside and her chin. He pulled away as abruptly as he began the kiss. Bjorn looked into Tyra’s hooded eyes, but whatever was there was not what he searched for. Or perhaps it was. He stood up and swept the jug off the ground before walking into the tree line.
Tyra watched Bjorn walk away with the jug of mead, and she envied him. She looked around and found one for herself. She had grown up with three large b
oys as her closest friends. It meant both she and Freya learned to drink with them, and they both developed a high tolerance. Bjorn’s kiss had sobered her, or at least her mind was convinced it had. Tyra pulled the cork from the jug and tilted it back. She had half the jug before stopped herself. She looked to where Bjorn sat against a tree, facing away from the camp, away from her.
She was in no condition to pick a fight and win, thanks to the effects of the alcohol. But she did not want to fight anymore. She could not. She would not. She pushed herself onto her feet and waited for the world to lurch or spin. When it stayed as it was supposed to. She pushed her shoulders back and walked toward the trees.
When she walked up to the tree where Bjorn sat with his legs stretched out, she was not sure if he was asleep since his eyes were closed.
“What do you want now?”
It surprised Tyra how sober he sounded too, but she knew he had to feel much the way she did. She was not entirely drunk, but she was not totally sober, either. She stepped a foot over him and lowered herself to straddle him.
“Doing what I need to. What I can’t stop thinking about. What we both need. Bjorn, I’ve loved you since I was five. I’ve always loved you, and that’s why you’re the only one who has the power to hurt me and scare me.”
She pulled at the laces of her leather pants, kneeling high enough to push them down from her hips. She then pulled Bjorn’s laces as he watched her. When he sprang free, Tyra moaned as she wrapped her hand around him. It had been so long since she felt him against her. She stroked him until he groaned and pulled her in for another kiss. Once more, it was as if he tried to devour her. She wanted to do the same. Tyra wanted to be so close she might crawl within his skin. She ran her other hand under his linen shirt as she raked her nails over his belly.
“I’ve never wanted to hurt you or scare you, Tyra. I have only ever wanted you to be happy and safe.”
“I know. But when my mind screamed I couldn’t have you, my heart ached with despair. Life has been offkilter for so long. The few times I imagined we had a chance, after, well, after that time, I pushed you away before you were gone.”
Bjorn wrapped his hand around Tyra’s and stopped her. He was certain he would expire on the spot, but he forced them both to focus on the conversation.
“But I never wanted to go anywhere. Why do you think I would leave?”
“Because those I loved the most left me.”
Tyra’s eyes filled with fat tears, and Bjorn swept his thumbs below her lashes to wipe them away. He encircled her in his arms and pulled her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head.
“I understand. Better than you can imagine. Every time you’ve turned me down was like losing them all over again, but I am a glutton for punishment. I keep coming back on the hopes that one of these days, you will accept me.”
Tyra shifted and grasped his cock again. He guided her hips, and together they lowered Tyra onto his rod. Neither moved, both reveling in how right it felt for their bodies to finally join again.
“Bjorn.”
“I know.”
As their lips fused together, this kiss was slow and languid. It was an exploration as they held one another, only their mouths moving. The kiss seemed to last forever until they both had to pull back for air. Bjorn ran his fingers along her chin and cheek where his stubble abraded her soft skin.
“I’m sorry if it hurts. I’ve made it red.”
“You’ve marked me as yours.”
“Do you mind that?”
“No. I want more. I want to be yours, Bjorn. I’ve kept us apart too long. No more.”
Tyra rocked her hips as Bjorn groaned.
“Tyra, this changes everything. If you have any doubts, leave now. If we continue, I will claim you as my own. I will kill any man who touches you. I will never forgive you if you betray me.”
“Bjorn, there’s never, ever been anyone else. You’re the only one I’ve loved.”
Bjorn dug his fingers into her bottom as he thrust into her.
“Mine,” she moaned as she sank deeper onto Bjorn’s cock.
“Yours. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Bjorn rolled them and pushed Tyra’s pants down to her ankles. He thrust into her over and over as she struggled to pull her shirt over her head then do the same to his.
“More. More. I want it all.”
“And you shall have it, Ty. You have my heart. Now you shall have my body and my soul.”
Bjorn kissed a scorching trail along her neck as he worked his way down to her breasts. He laved his tongue over her puckered nipple. His tongue was rough as he circled it then suckled hard enough to make her yelp. He hesitated a moment, worried he hurt her, but when she dug her fingers into his back, she made it obvious she wanted more of the same. He alternated breasts as he kneaded one and suckled the other. Tyra writhed under him as the pressure and ache grow low in her belly. She moaned as she thrust her hips to meet Bjorn each time he surged into her. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled his mouth back to her. She nipped at his lips, catching his bottom one between her teeth. He growled as she tugged. Her need and aggression pushed him over the edge. He fought to maintain control.
“Tyra, don’t fight it any longer. Find your release, my love. I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Then don’t.”
Tyra buried her face against his neck as her climax ripped through her, milking Bjorn’s cock. Her muscles clenched around him, drawing him in. He tried to pull out, but Tyra yanked on his hair and trapped his hips with her knees.
“Stay,” she begged. “Together.”
Bjorn held her against him as his seed shoot from him as his cock surely brushed her womb. His body seemed boneless when his cock stopped twitching within Tyra. She stroked his back with feather soft caresses. Her hold on his hair softened until she only rested her hand against his scalp. Once more, he tried to pull out, but her whisper was the same as before.
“Stay.”
“As one,” Bjorn breathed against her neck.
“Yes. As one.” Tyra smattered kisses along his shoulder and collarbone.
They lay like that until Bjorn’s body failed to meet his mind’s demands. He slipped from her and rolled so he would not crush Tyra. She slid from him and unlaced her boots before pulling her pants from her ankles. Bjorn sat up to do the same. Once they were both undressed, Bjorn pulled his fur cloak over them. He mindlessly ran his fingers over her petal soft skin. His body and soul rejoiced at finally making love to Tyra, but his mind would not overlook one detail.
“Ty, I didn’t pull out. I spilled inside you.”
“I know. I wanted you to.” She leaned up on her elbow. “I mean I’m not trying to trap you now that I’ve stopped running. I just wanted us to be joined through it all. I wanted--”
Tyra was unsure how to describe it without sounding sentimental.
“You wanted what I did. You wanted us to be as one with nothing between us anymore.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think you’re trying to trap me. I fear you will think I have done that to you. What about a babe? I didn’t think you wanted to be a mother.”
“Someday. But you’re right, I don’t want that now. I will ask Freya for some of her pennyroyal. I know that is how she keeps from getting with child.”
“Someday.” Bjorn whispered.
Tyra leaned back over him and pulled his face to look at her.
“With you.” She kissed him with a gentleness that surprised them both. It was beyond tender. “I love you, Bjorn Jansson.”
“And I love you, Tyra Vigosdóttir.”
They dozed in one another’s arms until the sun began to peek through the deep blues of early morning. Bjorn stirred first, but Tyra’s eyes popped open. Bjorn held his breath, waiting for the hammer to fall. He waited for Tyra to scramble away, swearing to never look at him again.
“Why are you holding your breath, Bjorn? It’s making your ribs stick in me, and i
t’s not very comfortable.”
Bjorn was unprepared for Tyra to tickle him. The air whooshed from his chest as he rolled to look at her, but she pushed his shoulder as her body followed him as she lay on his back once more. She ground her mons against his already stirring sword. She sheathed him and began to rock as her head fell back. Her hair had come loose from its braids some time during their previous lovemaking. The blonde strands whispered across Bjorn’s thighs as her breasts pressed toward the heavens. Bjorn sat up, wrapping Tyra’s legs around his waist. She rode him as she would her horse, her hips rolling as he gripped them. He pushed her down onto his length as his mouth latched onto her breast. Her moans spurred him on as he guided her into a harder and faster rhythm.
“So deep, Bjorn.”
“I know, my love. Gods, you are so tight. You shall make me finish just when we’ve gotten started.”
“So good... Nothing like it... So good...” Tyra only managed to exhale phrases as her body seized control, and her brain raced to catch up.
Bjorn cradled Tyra in his arm as he twisted them and pressed her back against the ground. Bjorn’s pace was slower this time as he thrust into her, circling his hips before pulling back and starting the pattern again. Tyra mewled each time he seemed to have sunk to the hilt but found just a tiny bit more to press into her. The pressure against her hidden button was bringing her closer to release as her body raced toward the finish.
She rasped her teeth against his shoulder as her need coalesced into a powerful climax that shook her from her core to her extremities. Her heart surely skipped a beat as she clenched around Bjorn.
Tyra & Bjorn (Viking Glory Book 3) Page 10
