The Viking's Wedding

by Jessica Knight

  Leiva lifts her head after changing the bandage on Abram’s neck. She hustles over to me, placing the basin full of bloody water on the counter. “Place her here.” Leiva points to the bed next to Abram.

  She does a quick exam of Thyra. The sigh that escapes her throat is nothing but relief, “Her throat is bruised. I’ll stich the leg and make a splint for the ankle. She shall need to stay here for a few days, but she will make a full recovery.”

  I nod. It is something I already knew. I pull the linen to Thyra’s chin and kiss her forehead before walking over to Abram’s bed. He looks terrible. He is pale. The bandage around his throat is thick and white.

  “He is a fighter. He is strong. I do not know how his heart is still beating in that wee chest of his, but it pounds, healthy.”

  “Will he live?” I take the boy’s hand in mine and cover it with my other.

  “The next few days are crucial. I’ve done all I can. I’ve stitched him, but he has lost a lot of blood. And my other worry is infection. I plan on changing the bandage every hour, and putting the herbal paste on it, too.”

  “Is he just asleep then?”

  “He passed out from the stiches. And then passed out again from cleaning the wound. I really like… what did that Kievan Rus’ man call it? Vodka? It is great for cleaning wounds but painful.” Leiva’s brows turn with sorrow.

  “Can I stay?”

  “I’d rather you go rest, Einarr. I will let you know of any changes.”

  “Where is Abigale?”

  “She’s taking a bath.”

  “Can I wait for her? I’d love to see her.”

  “You may,” Leiva yawns. “She will be out any minute.”

  I nod, staring at Abram and Thyra at the same time. How is it that the three people I care for most are in the medical wing? Is this the goddess telling me I deserve nothing good? It seems everything that comes to me, I make worse.

  But I’m too selfish to let them go.

  “Einarr!” a small voice squeals from my right.

  “Abigale!” I barely catch her in time when she slams against me, reminding me that I need Leiva to look at my own damn wound. I should not be used to having so many wounds that I forget they are there.

  “You are here,” Abigale’s big brown eyes light up when she sees me but get sad when she sees Thyra and Abram laying in the beds. Her small bottom lip starts to tremble, and immediately, I am out of my element again. What do you do when children cry? “Why is Thyra hurt? Abram is pale. He looks dead. Is he dead?” she starts to wail uncontrollably.

  I rush her out of the room, so she doesn’t wake them. “They shall be fine. There was an accident, but everything shall be fine. Hey, you look bigger than the last time I’ve seen you. Have you grown again?” I set her down on her feet, giving her a once over. “Aye, you’re bigger. You’re growing like a weed.”

  She giggles. “I’m no weed, Einarr. I am a lady,” Abigale corrects me.

  “My apologies, my lady.” I make sure to bow.

  “Apology accepted.” She curtsies.

  I’ll have my hands full with this one. I can tell. “You want to see if Leiva will let you come with me? You can help me build our home.”

  “Really? Can I build my own room? I don’t want to share it.”

  I scoff, “My little one does not share her things. Your things are yours. Aye?”

  “Aye,” she shouts, jumps on my back, and wraps her arms around my neck. “Giddy-up.” She kicks my sides.

  Abigale does a great job at taking my mind off the pain, but before I go anywhere and forget again, Leiva comes storming out of the medical corridor, her arms folded over her chest, “You, Warlord. I do not care how big and tough you are. You are going to sit down and let me fix that arm. You left a trail of blood on my floor.”

  “My apologies, Leiva.”

  “Just sit down and let me clean the wound.”

  I plop in the chair, with the kid still on my back, and Leiva rips my shirt sleeve off. I hiss as she pours clear liquid on it. It fucking burns.

  “You crazy woman. What is that? I think you like torturing me.” I hold my jaw tight as she starts bringing the skin together.

  “I want to be a nurse, just like Leiva,” Abigale chirps from behind my shoulder.

  “That’s very noble. I am sure when you are older, Leiva will love to teach you.”

  “Aye! I need some extra hands.”

  It takes longer than I thought to stitch up the wound. Abigale falls asleep with her cheek against my neck and her arms around my shoulder. “I’m glad you have opened yourself to love, Einarr. You deserve it.”

  I pat Leiva’s hand. I’ve known her for a very long time. “Thank you. I am out of my element.”

  “Really? To me, it looks like you are doing just fine.” She cuts the string with a knife and nods. “All done. Now, since it is so late, you and Abigale can stay here tonight, but tomorrow, you must give Abram and Thyra their space.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I yawn, bring the little one around to my side and lean back against the bed. My eyes close quickly, and my dreams are eaten alive with what could have happened today.

  Death becomes my nightmare.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thyra

  It’s been a few weeks since Leiva has released me from care and Einarr has treated me like spun glass. I’m fine. My throat is healed, my ankle is better, and yes, I have a scar on my leg from the cut, but that is to be expected. I’m starting to wonder if Einarr even wants me anymore.

  He has not touched me. Kissed me. Looked at me. He has done nothing except hold me, and I am starting to get angry. I want him. And I want him now.

  We just left the medical wing where Abram is. He is recovering still, doing well, but he has yet to be able to find his voice. We are afraid that the sword might have damaged his throat beyond repair.

  Einarr’s guilt has eaten him alive lately, and that may be another reason he has not tried to have sex with me, but my insecurities are starting to get the best of me. I need to know what is going on in his head.

  “Einarr?” I call for him as he slams the axe down on yet another piece of wood. He has been working overtime on the cabin to try and get it done, so when Abram gets out of the medical wing, he has his own room.

  “My love?” he replies the same way as he does every time.

  That right there should tell me all I need to know, but it doesn’t.

  He wipes the sweat off his brow and leans against the handle of the axe. His shirt is off. The sweat is gleaming off all the right places on his body. His muscles bulge. The scars just add to the entire package. I lick my lips when I think about taking his long cock in my mouth, and then I blush.

  I’ve never done anything of the sort. I will be terrible at it.

  I gather my dress, take a deep breath, and walk down to where he is.

  “I have… something to ask, my love.”

  Einarr frowns. “What is it?”

  I take another deep breath, try to decide how to say it, but then end up just blurting it out.

  “Do you not want me anymore?” I ask, unable to meet his eyes, so I twist my hands in my lap, running my thumbs over one another.

  The axe falls on the ground with a hard thump. The grass swishes to the side from Einarr parting it as he runs to me. He kneels, taking my hands in his. “What on earth would make you say something like that? I always want you.”

  “Then why haven’t we, you know,” my cheeks pink at the memory of him taking my virginity.

  He tilts my chin up with his hand, and when our eyes meet, nothing but love is pouring out of his copper eyes. “Because you’ve been healing. I do not wish to injure you further.”

  “I’m healed,” I practically whine.

  “Is that so?” He runs his hands up my thighs, gathering my dress in his palms. “How do you know?”

  “I just know.” I bite my lips, grinning as his fingers slide across my skin.

  “And where is Abi
gale?”

  “With Wulf and Trident. They are teaching her to hunt.” I tilt my head back as his fingers glide over the sensitive bead.

  “You sure you’re healed?” He pulls his hands away, and when he does that, I snap my eyes open with anger.

  My blood boils hotter than the sun right now because of the lust and rage coursing through my veins. I push him off me and stomp inside the house. “Get in here and fuck me, Einarr. Right now.”

  He has a slick smile on his face that he tries to hide with his large palm. He nods, standing up from his squatted position and meanders over to the front door. “May I come in, my lady?”

  I grab him by the pants and tug him forward, which he must have not been expecting because he stumbles, tripping over his feet until he lands in the big piles of furs we have in front of the fireplace.

  And he lands right on his back.

  Right where I want him.

  I slide the metal over, officially locking the door. I’ve been making sure to wear dresses that are very easy to take off, so all I do is untie the sleeves and let it fall to the floor. I wiggle out of my undergarments quickly and saunter over to Einarr. He spreads his legs, a large swell rising under his pants. He puts his arms behind his head, causing his biceps to flex.

  He is so big everywhere.

  I straddle his waist and rock against his hard cock.

  His eyes swirl with fire. “I didn’t know you were in such need to feel good, my love.”

  I shake my head, causing my hair to fall into my face. “Not to feel good. I’m in need for you, Einarr.”

  When I tell him that, he seems confused for a second. It breaks my heart that no one has ever made him feel desired. That is about to change. “I want you to sit back and relax,” I purr, slithering down his body until I am face to face with his large cock.

  I untie his trousers and part them, watching his thick rod bounce when released. The vein is thick on the side. And I have an odd desire to trace it with my tongue. His chest is heaving, and a thin layer of sweat has already started to shine on his chest.

  A clear bead of fluid comes out of his slit, and I reach out with shaky hands, grabbing the dollop with my fingers. I roll it between my thumb and index fingers. Smooth, wet, a little sticky, but not too bad. I meet Einarr’s eyes and put my fingers into my mouth, and his mouth drops open, watching me taste him.

  I moan around my digits, wanting every drop of his flavor against my tongue.

  “You taste good.” I feel hornier than ever. My body is on the edge of an explosion. My pussy is throbbing. My hole is begging to be filled by his cock. I slide up his legs until my center is right over his cock.

  His hands unwrap from behind his head and grope my tits. I moan, rocking on his long cock. He isn’t inside me, but the tip of his cock hits that special bundle of nerves. With every stroke, I get wetter, soaking his large piece of lumber between my slit. Wet sounds of our skin slapping together fill the room. Every time I rock back, his heavy sack cradles my arse.

  I don’t know if it is because I am so riled up, or if something is wrong with me, but feeling him pressed so close to me, my orgasm builds quickly. My mouth drops open as I stare at him, and his brow lifts with question. His hands land on my hips, and he rocks into me quicker. I am shaking wildly, in pure pleasure. I grab the roots of my long red hair as my orgasm bowls through me. I stop rocking, letting the spasms ride out the high they take my body on.

  I whimper when the last one stops the incredible sensation.

  “Thyra—”

  Einarr’s voice is half question, half moan, but I do not give him time to answer. I slide off his cock until I am face to face with the large beast again, and don’t think twice as I swallow it as far as I can down my throat.

  “Fuck! Thyra,” he growls. His hands cup my head as I bob up and down.

  I have no idea what I’m doing, but Sassa told me what to do. When I see somewhat of a frustrated expression on Einarr’s face, I pop off. “Am I doing it wrong? I’ve never done it before.” I wipe the corner of my mouth.

  “What? No, no, no,” he says, half delirious. “I’m trying not to come too soon. I want to be inside you.”

  “Oh.” That makes me feel all the confidence in the world. I grin and guide him back into my mouth, suck on the head, and wrap my tongue around the helmet, and then feed his long length down my throat. His girth stretches my lips as far as they can go, but I’m too eager to give up.

  His hand tugs on my hair, and then his hips start to move. He is fucking my mouth like he would fuck me. “Oh, Thyra, my love. Your mouth is perfection. You feel so good. It’s so good.”

  It makes me proud that even a man such as Einarr has succumbed to the inexperience of my mouth. I feel confident and beautiful and powerful. I can make him lose control like this with something I have never done before.

  He yanks me off his cock and flips me onto my back, making me yelp. I am staring up at him. His eyes are embers, glowing with desire. His body seems to vibrate as if he is holding back, but I do not want him to hold back. I want all of him. Everything he has to give. I want him.

  “Was I doing it wrong? Why did you make me stop?

  He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear and brings his lips down until they tickle my own. “Because when I come, I shall unload every drop of my seed inside you—where it belongs.”

  Before I can think, he pushes my legs apart and thrusts inside me in one long stroke.

  “Ah, yes!”

  “So fucking tight,” he grunts, starting a furious rhythm. His hands hold my knees apart as he keeps my legs spread. I can’t take my eyes off him as he looks where we are connected. “I belong here,” he gasps, through his rapid motions. “Right here, inside you, at all times.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I chant. Pleasure explodes through me.

  I try and pull my legs up and around his waist, but he keeps them spread. It is building the sensitivity. It is an overload of sensation. I never knew men like Einarr existed until I laid my eyes on him.

  The furs on the floor start to slide from the rough fucking he is giving me. His cock spreads me wide, penetrating me deeply. Deeper than I ever thought possible. I close my eyes and really take in the feel of him. My hands land on his chest. My nails dig into his skin, clawing, and scratching for dear life. Einarr pulls back and adjusts slightly, then thrusts back in to hit the sweet spot inside me. I lift my head, sucking his earlobe into my mouth, gaining another one of those gorgeous growls.

  His hand lands on my shoulder and pushes me down. I let go of his ear with a hard ‘pop’, and the man that meets my eyes is different. His wild abandon reminds me of a beast.

  Einarr has unlocked it, giving me all the reckless fury he feels with every stroke of my inner walls. The ends of his beard tickle my chest, and when he bites down on my lips, telling me to come, I do as the beast commands.

  And I shatter.

  All. Over. Him.

  He roars his own completion, filling me with every rope of come from every pump of his hips. I let out one last moan, along with a slight chuckle, as he thrusts one last time. He feels so good. I could lay in these furs by this fireplace for the rest of my life and be a happy woman.

  He has sweat dripping from the ends of his hair. Einarr’s eyes are still wild. He blinks a few times and those red brows furrow together for a moment. “Are you hurt?” he asks, running his hand down my body, cupping my thigh. “Did I take you too hard? I lost control. You just feel so good.” Einarr stays inside me, cock still hard and long.

  “It was perfect. Just what I needed,” I smile sleepily. I feel so much better now.

  He chuckles, kissing me on the cheek. “How about we take a short sleep, aye?”

  “Aye.” I stretch. The move causes his cock to slide out, and the beast growls.

  “I said sleep. I didn’t say I wanted to be out of you.” He turns us to our sides and guides his cock back in before he yanks one of the furs over us. “When we wake, I’ll make a f
ire.” His arms tighten around me until I’m as close as I can be, my back to his chest.

  I’m warm. Happy. Protected. Safe. I have the life I’ve always wanted. And it is with the man I love. In a house he built with his own two hands. Nothing has ever felt more like home. “I love you, Einarr,” I whisper quietly, on the verge of sleep and dreams.

  “I can’t wait to make you my wife. I’ve waited long enough.”

  Soon his breaths mellow out into an even, soft melody. The warm breaths puff against the spot between my neck and my shoulder, giving me a slight tickle, but nothing I ever want to stop. Einarr’s strong heartbeat pounds against my back. Between his heartbeat and his breaths, they play a lullaby, making it difficult to fight against the exhaustion pulling me under.

  I never imagined this being my life. I thought I would be the woman living with her father for the rest of her life because no one wanted a woman such as me. I’m not a fool. I know I’m not what other women look like, but I found a man that does not look like the typical man either. Together, we found our own happiness, our own love, and our journey. We found our way to each other when we needed each other most, and that makes peace settle in my soul.

  A small smile tugs my lips as I sigh, nestling further into Einarr. His arms try and pull me closer, but there is nowhere else to go. I fall sound asleep, happiness as my medication to pull me into summer night dreams, wrapped up in my warrior.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Einarr

  “How are you feeling?”

  I sit down next to Abram in the medical wing. The bandages are finally off, the stitches are out, but he will have an ugly looking scar. He matches me now, and I hate that. I do not want this life for him. I do not want him to be turned into some sort of freakshow. And that is how people will look at him now.

  “Like I got my throat slit,” he jokes.

  “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

  “Do what, Einarr?”

  “Make jokes. This isn’t funny. This would have never happened if it weren’t for me. This is my fault.” I reach for the fresh, red scar on his neck. It’s puffy; still healing. Some parts of his neck are black still from the blade burning his flesh. Ah, the smell. The smell of it burning is something I will never be able to forget.