I place a hand over her mouth, allowing her to make noise. I love that I make her like this. So wild and disheveled.
“Mine. You’re mine, Thyra,” I grunt as my balls pull tight to my body. I am going to come in my pants for the first time in my life, but it will be worth it. This moment will stay with me forever. Our first kiss. We have given into our temptation, and nothing has ever felt better. How she fits in my arms. How I fit between her legs. It is fate. She is my destiny.
“Einarr, something is happening. I don’t. It’s so much. I’m so sensitive.” She puts her hands on my chest but does not push me away. Her breasts are heavy and pulling that material tight with every large inhale she takes.
“Trust me,” I whisper. One of my hands grips her large arse, and that is all it takes for my eyes to roll in the back of my head. My body vibrates. My knees nearly give out. Even through the clothes, my come leaks out of the thin linen.
Her eyes widen. “I feel you.”
“You do that to me.” My voice has changed. It’s deep, lethal. If anyone catches us in this position, I will kill them. Her passion only belongs to me.
I give one more hard rut against her covered pussy. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as I put my hand back over her mouth, and a muffled whine leaves her throat. I keep my cock between her thighs, pushing harder and faster against her. A gush of her wetness soaks her undergarments and dampens my dick.
When she comes down from her high, I smile, brushing her hair behind her ears and kiss her again, this time with less need and passion, but full of love and care. I break the kiss and lay my forehead against hers. “I’ve been waiting for that since I first saw you.”
“Me too,” she gasps, choking for air.
Damn it; she looks fucking beautiful. Her cheeks are red, lips swollen from our kiss, my cock wet from her come, but most of all, I have my favorite lady in my arms. She feels so small. I know that I will make sure she is always protected.
My body is shaking from the after tremors. “You’re breathtaking, Lady Thyra.”
She giggles, “Please, call me Thyra, Einarr.”
The sound is music to my ears. The best thing I have ever witnessed. I could die a happy man now because I feel like I’ve experienced the best thing this world has to offer.
I run my fingers over the ridge of her collarbone, thinking about the guests showing up for her party tomorrow. “I can’t have you with another man. It will kill me, Thyra. You’re made to be in my arms.”
“You were made to hold me.” She nestles her head against my chest, sighing peacefully against my heart. “I do not want another man, Einarr. I only want you. It’s always been you.”
I hold her against me, not wanting to ever let her go. It is settled. The day after tomorrow, I shall crash her party. And I shall kill anyone that tries to stop me.
Chapter Thirteen
Thyra
The party isn’t until tomorrow, but the guests start to show for the party today. Some have traveled from around the world to be here. To marry the commander’s daughter and the Queen’s best friend, and have a tie in with one of the most notorious Warlords known? It is too good to pass up. Even if they do not find me to their taste, they would be stupid not to try and get into the good graces of Grimkael.
And that is why I have been dreading this. These men don’t care about me. They care about the position they would gain from marrying me.
I peek out my window to see a familiar red flag. Denmark. This must be Lord Matteo Schmid and his father, Matteo. It never fails to make me chuckle that men like to name their offspring after themselves. I understand family names, and since Matteo is royalty, I suppose it suits him.
He is a handsome man, but nothing like Einarr. Matteo’s hair is blonde, and he is lean. Too lean for my taste. Lord Grimkael greets them, extending his hand to meet theirs.
I turn away from the window, unable to watch anymore. I don’t want anything to do with these men that are coming so far to win my hand. It isn’t right. I should tell them to go away, but Father would not be happy with me.
“Thyra, my lady, what is wrong?” Einarr shuts the bedroom door and slides the lock into place so no one can get in.
“Einarr!” I run to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He feels so good, so warm, so right. I lay my cheek on his shoulder as I cry.
“Aye.” He pulls back and cups my face with his large hands. I’ve never felt small, but he makes me feel delicate. “What’s wrong, love? Talk to me.”
“The men. They are starting to show up for the party. I cannot stand to watch them come here and be greeted as if they are friends. I want none of them. I only want you.”
“I know. It’s how I was able to sneak into your room. Everyone, including your father, is preoccupied with the guests. I had to take my chance to come to see my favorite Lady.”
“Your only Lady.” I poke his side as I sniffle.
He moves his fingers to my chin and tilts my head up and stares into my eyes with his copper eyes. “My one.”
I sigh as our lips meet in a soft kiss. Electrical currents swim between us, crackling the air, heating my body with lust and desire.
There shall never be another man. It will always, ever be Einarr. If I end up in someone else’s hands, I will never be happy. I will imagine they are Einarr every day, for the rest of my life.
“Let them come. The party will happen, but no one shall take you from me.”
“How can you be so sure, Einarr? They are here. They are coming. Burgundy, Ireland, Kievan Rus’—”
“Kievan Rus’? I thought your father loved you?” Einarr smiles a bit, trying to make me laugh, but it doesn’t work.
“How can you be so calm about this? Do you not care?”
Tears start to break free and rush down my cheek.
He steps back, a stricken look on his face. “Care? You think I want one of these men, someone who is not me, to lay a hand on you? You think I want you warming someone else’s bed and not mine? I’ve dreamed of you, Thyra. I’ve been falling in love with you since the moment I first saw you. We fought it. We fought this.” He grabs my hands and kisses my knuckles. “You’re where everything begins for me. I shall die before another man gets to taste your lips.” He rubs his thumb down my bottom lip. “I shall die before another man gets to intertwine his hand with yours.”
He raises our hands and slides our fingers together, locking them tight. “I’ll die before another man gets to be inside you. You’re mine, just as I am yours.”
“Thyra! Come say hello to your guests,” my father yells from down the hall.
I gasp. “Hide!” I hiss, pushing Einarr to where my closet is, but he does not budge.
He is laughing when he turns around, slides the lock over, and then opens my closet door, stepping inside. “Don’t make a sound,” I whisper.
“Lips are sealed.” He grabs the door handles, disappearing behind the heavy mahogany.
I clear my throat and rush over to my bed, stuffing my hands under the pillow and pretend to cough.
“Thyra?” my father bellows.
I lower my voice, as if I’m straining to speak, “In here.”
Heavy boots pound against the floor, and a part of me holds my breath. I suspect he will yell at me. We haven’t spoken since we got into that fight.
My bed dips from his weight, and his hand brushes over my forehead. “Dear girl, what is ever wrong? Are you ill again?”
I open my eyes from a fake nap and cough again. “I hope not. I’m just feeling a little under the weather. It is nothing serious. I can go meet the men. What are they like? Are they wonderful?” I cough again to the point my throat hurts.
“Nonsense, Thyra. You must rest before your party. I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I know how much you have been looking forward to this. And as for the men, they are handsome. A little fragile looking, but you do not need to go for the fragile ones.”
I want to say it is him that has been looking forwar
d to it. I used to be excited about it, until my feelings for Einarr kept growing. My father grabs my hand, giving it a soft squeeze. I keep my mouth shut and bite my tongue like a good daughter. My father and I have not been able to see eye to eye, and it is causing a lot of discord.
“I am sorry, Father. I want to be well for tomorrow, though. Please, tell them I am sorry.”
“Absolutely. I’ll make sure to tell them.”
I let go of his hand, a bit fast. It may give him the impression I do not want to hold it, but I am anxious for him to go. I want time with Einarr.
My father stands, blocking the rays of the sun coming through the window. He keeps his back turned to me and lets out a long sigh. “I know things have been bumpy between us, Thyra. You’ll see it is for your own good.”
“I’m tired, Father,” I say, flipping over to my other side. I want nothing to do with this conversation.
“Of course, I will let our guests know you shall see them tomorrow. Rest well, dear.” I wait until I hear the door close again and sit up.
“Einarr?” I whisper.
He opens the closet door again and steps out. Einarr slides the lock into place again.
“He’s wrong, you know.” I watch Einarr’s face for any reaction. “My father has no idea what is best for me. Or he would know that what is best for me is you.”
“Aye, I know. I don’t care what he thinks, Thyra. You are meant to be mine. I know I’m not what any father chooses for their daughter, but I can be a good man for you.” He sits down next to me and wraps his arm around my waist. “I do not know why you would want me. I’m nothing but a beaten, scarred up man, but I shall never take you for granted. I want to love you for the rest of my days, Thyra.”
I straddle his waist, ignoring the pounding of hooves outside, signaling another man showing up for the party. I lean my forehead against his.
“You are not broken. You are not beaten up. You are beautiful.” I run a finger down the scar on his face, the one he hates so much. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
“And how is that?” The timbre in his voice deepens. Einarr’s wide palms scale up my legs until the palm of his hands grip the meat of my hips.
“You are – sexy.” I cannot say the word without blushing, but I do not break eye contact with his. I love seeing his reaction. His eyes are wide, red eyebrows raised with shock, but it gets replaced with lust a moment later.
He rubs his hand over my arse, and the growl that leaves his chest makes liquid heat pool between my legs.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” he says.
“As much as I want you.”
The scar over his top lip pulls when he grins. “I doubt that.” His fingers dig into my globes, jerking me forward over his hard cock.
My face heats from the feel of his cock between my legs. I lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips, once, twice, before he pries my mouth open with his tongue. The feel of his tongue against mine, the smooth taste of man, has me whimpering into his throat. I want him. I will always want him. I never want to give myself to another.
I break the kiss by leaning up. I bring my fingers to the knot in the front of my dress and pull the string.
Einarr’s hand stops mine. “What are you doing?”
“I want you, Einarr. Only you. I want you to be my first and my last.”
“Be sure, because once we start, I do not think I will be able to stop, Thyra. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
I push the shoulders of my dress down my arms. “I’m sure. No one else. I only want you.”
He pounces on me like a wild animal, pressing my back against the bed. “I wanted us to be married. I thought that is what you would want.”
“I just want you,” I moan, running my fingers over his tattoos and through his hair as he licks the swell of my breast.
“Look at me.”
I snap my eyes open at the warrior above me. His beard is long, tickling my chest. His wild red hair cascades over his shoulders. Those copper eyes are dilated to black. Against the scar, it looks menacing, but it turns me on. Einarr is a protector. A fighter. He kills for the people he loves, and I’m one of them now.
I’m blessed by the goddess.
“I want you to see the man that’s taking you. I want you to see the man you shall have in your bed forever.”
“How could I not know it was you? I wouldn’t dream of anyone else.” I place my palm against his cheek.
Before I can say another word, Einarr rips my dress down the middle, growling like a beast. His muscles bulge. The veins pop in his arms until the material rips right in half at the bottom. He peels it off me, leaving me in my undergarments. I watch him closely. His eyes close, and his chest rises and falls in rapid beats.
He is trying to hold himself back.
“Rip it off me,” I whisper. I cannot believe those words just left my mouth. “I want all of you, Einarr. Give me all of you.”
My hand lands over his heart, pushing the linen to the side when I feel a ridge. There is a nasty scar over his heart. It’s as if someone tried to cut out the beating organ. Oh, if I could, I’d protect him from pain forever.
He does not ask questions. He does not wait. There is no hesitation. I gasp in anticipation as the flimsy white material is yanked off my body. The air tickles my skin.
“You will never need this contraption.” Again, he rips the corset off my torso, ruining the expensive material. I’ll have to hide that, so father does not find out.
I’m bare before him. Never in my life have I been in the nude before anyone. It takes all I have not to cover my body. I’m sure he has seen the best of women. His large, callused hands skim up my body, melting into my curves. He cups my heavy breasts, somehow gentle and rough at the same time. The sensation sends tingles up through me.
“Fucking gorgeous. The goddess is blessing me with such a gift, such a woman,” he whispers in awe as he eyes me up and down.
This time, it’s my turn. I dip my hands under the thin linen shirt and slowly reveal his thick, muscular body. His skin pebbles. His abs clench. The more I lift the shirt, the more I reveal the scars littered across his body.
Oh, this man. This man deserves all the love in the world. And I cannot wait to be the one to give it to him.
Chapter Fourteen
Einarr
The feel of her hands against my chest is better than any dream I have ever conjured about her. My lungs struggle to expand with her every touch. Every sound leaving my mouth is shaking. I must remember to be quiet. It is too hard to think with her hands on me.
When her fingers get to my collarbone and lift my shirt off my head, I have to keep my eyes closed, because I am afraid if I open them, she will have disgust in her eyes, or worse, she won’t even be there. It has been so long since I have let a woman see me. All of me. Usually, when I am with a lady, it is under cover of night, where she can only feel my scars, not see them.
But Thyra is different. I want her to see me for me. And to some people, I am frightening.
“Open your eyes,” she whispers, running her nails down my chest.
I take a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth. Slowly, I flutter my eyes open, readying myself to realize this moment is all in my head, but when my vision clears, there she is. Red cheeks, red hair spread across the pillow, stark against the light blankets. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.
Reaching out my hand, I run my knuckles down her face. “You are heaven sent.”
She leans her cheek against my palm, nestling further into my touch. No one has ever wanted my touch like she has.
If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. I wish to live in this moment forever, relive it over and over again until time takes my soul from this earth.
I lean down, taking her lips in a slow, kiss. If we are going to do this, I want to take my time. I want to explore every inch of her. Taste every part of her skin. I want to keep going and nev
er stop. I want this feeling, this mind-numbing, heart-throbbing, cock-hardening feeling, to never go away. I want it to consume me.
When I pull back to get my first look at her breasts, I nearly come right then and there. Fucking perfect. They are big, round, perky, and the nipple is a light pink, hard, and waiting for attention. Her stomach is next; the beautiful curves finally revealed to me.
My one is naked before me.
My eyes take her in. All of her. I roam up her legs that are slowly twisting together. Nerves, perhaps. If she could feel my heart, she would be able to sense that I, too, am nervous. My hands tremble. I reach out and touch the soft skin of her legs and skim up until her thick, wild, red bush is in my sight.
A target.
A bullseye.
I run my nose over the soft hairs and inhale her scent like a mad man. I suppose I am. Madness infects me like a disease when it comes to her.
“You smell divine,” I mutter. The scent of her makes my cock twitch drastically. I squeeze the shaft tight with my fist, stopping the impending orgasm. It’s been so long. I need to get inside her soon, or I won’t be able to last much longer.
That’s how much she affects me.
I flick out my tongue. I must have a taste of her nectar. She whimpers, as I slowly circle my tongue up her wet folds. A tight hold grips the hair on top of my head while the other hand caresses the tattoo on the side. A sting of pain shoots through my scalp, traveling down to the tip of my cock. It’s a good thing I have not let go of my cock, or I would have come right then and there. And my seed, if it shall be anywhere, shall be deep inside of Thyra.
Planting itself in her womb, hopefully to bear my children.
Removing myself from her sweet strawberry field feels just like having an arrow yanked from my gut. It’s painful but needed if I want to make this good for her. Come is oozing from my slit, threatening to explode at any moment. But I can’t. Not yet. Every touch seems to take me into a frenzy. I need to calm myself in some way.
The Viking's Wedding Page 10
