Taming His Viking Woman

by Michelle Styles

  ‘Do you like my improvements?’ he asked, breaking the awkward silence which had sprung up.

  ‘I wondered where they had come from.’

  ‘Byzantium. A present.’

  Sayrid nodded, hating the small curl of jealousy at the woman who had given him the hangings. ‘An expensive present.’

  ‘I saved the man’s life and family. He owed me.’ He nodded towards them. ‘It is the first time I’ve had them hung.’

  ‘They look like they were made for this room.’

  His smile became positively wolfish. ‘It helps to set the mood, particularly when there is a naked woman in my bed.’

  Her face burnt worse than before. ‘After this afternoon, I didn’t think you would require any assistance of that sort.’

  ‘Sayrid!’

  ‘What do you expect me to say?’

  It was his turn to look uncomfortable. ‘Not that.’

  The bed sank under his weight. She struggled to keep her place and not tumble towards him. The ropes were far looser than they should have been. She made a mental note to get them seen to.

  ‘Do you want to be here?’ he asked in low voice, reaching towards her.

  She put her fingers in his palm. He covered them.

  ‘I’m trying to be understanding. I want what is best for everyone. Discord helps no one.’

  ‘My men have been teasing me all day about my evident desire for you and my very bad temper.’

  He raised her captured hand to his lips. The tiny touch made her feel like a precious piece of glass.

  A flame flickered in her belly. If she hadn’t loved him already, she’d fall for him now. She bit her knuckle. She couldn’t love him, not so soon. And her love was doomed. She couldn’t be the sort of woman he required. But she could have tonight, her heart argued.

  ‘I’m trying to uphold my end of the bargain.’

  ‘What, greeting your husband from bed?’ He gave a bark of laughter. ‘Who taught you that trick?’

  ‘The new gown is far too pretty and delicate. Inga pointed out that I had already torn a shoulder seam.’ Her cheeks burnt. ‘I believe it happened in the storeroom.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m going to show you what it is like to go slowly. I am going to treat you how you should have been treated yesterday.’

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he laid a finger across her lips. ‘Hush. I’m in charge and you will obey me for once.’

  He followed his order with a kiss that took her breath away, gentle but persistently persuading. She opened her mouth and drew his tongue in.

  One hand cupped the back of her head while the other trailed down her neck, making feather-light touches which did strange things to her insides.

  He went ever lower until he reached her nipples. He rolled first one and then the other between his thumb and forefinger until they ached. She arched her back, wanting more as the heat began to rise in her middle.

  He lazily moved his mouth down her body. He took each nipple in turn, drawing small circles, tugging at them and tracing their outline. With each touch, the heat inexorably rose. Her hips writhed under him, seeking relief.

  She tugged at his tunic, needing to feel his skin against hers.

  He nodded and slowly took it off. The torchlight turned his skin into gold. Her fingers traced the faint sprinkling of hair on his chest, accidentally brushing his nipples which hardened under her touch.

  He groaned but allowed her a chance to explore. With each touch, her confidence grew. She grasped the waistband of his trousers. But he shook his head and captured her wrists, raising them above her, making her arch her back so that her breasts jutted out.

  ‘Let me enjoy you,’ he rasped out.

  He sank down, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her body, teasing her. His tongue lapped at her navel, round and round before dipping lower.

  She gasped as his head went to the apex of her thighs.

  ‘Let me taste you. There. Please,’ he said in a ragged voice.

  Unable to speak beyond little moans, she nodded.

  He wedged her thighs wider and his mouth touched her intimate core. Wave after wave of pleasure hit her as his tongue thrust slowly into her. When she thought she was about to die from the need of him, he divested his trousers, exposing his rampant erection.

  He parted her thighs and drove deep. This time her body opened, taking the full length of him with ease. She wrapped her legs about him, urging him onwards. Their bodies moved like one. And she learnt what joining could really be like as the world exploded into a million potent points.

  Later, she lay in his arms. Her muscles ached, but she felt complete.

  The torch flickered and sent strange shadows over his skin. Languidly she traced them. ‘Now I understand what you mean about beds being better.’

  He ran his hand along her shoulder and stopped.

  ‘Is there something wrong?’ Her stomach dropped and she braced herself for his excuses of why he had to leave.

  ‘How did you get the scars on your back? Kettil swore you were never wounded, not severely. Someone marked you, Sayrid.’ He pinned her to the bed, preventing her from slipping off. ‘I noticed them yesterday when the tunic you were wearing slipped from your shoulder in the water. They are not sword cuts and they are different colours, almost like runes.’

  ‘They are from a long time ago.’ Sayrid hugged her knees to her chest. She should have known he’d discover them. It had been too much to hope for. All the vile predictions her stepmother had poured in her ears would come to pass. ‘They’re unimportant.’

  ‘From your father? Did he do this to you?’

  She let out a breath. ‘Yes. I took the beatings to prove I was as strong as any man and that I had what it took to become a warrior.’

  ‘These go far beyond mere beatings. And there is almost a runic pattern to them. They haven’t healed like normal scars.’

  ‘My stepmother rubbed salt and different-coloured sand into them.’ Sayrid put a hand to her head. She’d stumbled half-blind with pain from the room after the beating, but had felt proud as her father hadn’t managed to cow her as he had Regin, only to be confronted with her stepmother.

  Afterwards the only person besides Auda who had helped her was Regin. She owed him her life.

  ‘Can we speak of this later? I know what you will think of them. My stepmother used to make me repeat her words. She took great delight in saying them.’

  ‘Let me see your scars. And I will tell you precisely what I think of them.’ Gentle hands turned her over. She forced herself to lie still.

  There was a sharp intake of breath and then silence.

  ‘I understand if you wish to go. My stepmother warned me that men would find them repulsive and flee my bed. That even if a man should marry me, he would discover them and leave.’ She shrugged slightly and drew on all of her reserves to keep her voice emotionless. ‘Somewhere in my tortured brain, I thought I could prolong our courtship and have a few days to look back on.’

  She waited for him to go. He did not move, but continued to remain next to her.

  ‘Hush now. Relax.’

  Slowly he traced the network of the scars with his fingers. His lips swiftly followed. With each press of his mouth, it seemed like her stepmother’s voice faded from her mind until it signified nothing.

  When he’d finished, he turned her over and raised her chin so she was forced to look directly into his eyes.

  ‘These are honourable scars, Sayrid. You received them because you were defending people who were smaller and weaker than you. How anyone could be so twisted and perverted to think otherwise, I’ve no idea. And that is my honest opinion. I would like to run your stepmother through with my sword, but she isn’t worth the effort.’

  Her throat worked up and down, but no sound came out. He thought them honourable. They did not repulse him.

  ‘I see no shame in having been a shield maiden or protecting your family. Where there is shame is in forcing y
ou to make the choice. In the branding of your back. Making you seem like you were little more than a thrall.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Your stepmother is lucky that I do not make war against women or her life would be at an end. Your father is dead and it will be up to Odin to judge his actions. I know I wouldn’t want a man like that to serve on one of my felags.’

  Sayrid gave a little nod as she drew her knees into her chest.

  ‘Why would I be put off by the scars? I have a network of my own. And having held you in my arms and sampled your mouth, why would I flee your bed?’ He pressed another kiss against the nearest scar. ‘You don’t know men very well and you certainly don’t know me.’

  ‘I am a coward, Hrolf. My father always called me one and I’ve proved it,’ Sayrid said, concentrating on the nearest tapestry. ‘I should have confessed about my scars before. I used them as a reason why no man would ever want me. It made me fight harder, but truly I was scared.’

  ‘Hush, you are one of the bravest people I have ever met.’ He laced his fingers through hers. ‘Trust me with your story. Explain to me why you did what you did. I want to know everything about you.’

  Suddenly the words poured out of Sayrid. She explained about the beatings and the mockery. And after her back healed, she became determined to show them that she wasn’t broken and she remained steadfast in her resolve to protect her younger siblings.

  When she reached the shuddering end of her story, explaining how grateful her father had been when she had returned with gold from her first voyage, Hrolf said nothing. He reached for her and dragged her back against his chest.

  She lay there, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She managed to stifle the words confessing her love for him. It was far too new and scary.

  He brought her face to his. ‘I will be the best husband I can be, Sayrid, but don’t ask me to love you. I’ve vowed never to love a woman. My father died because he loved too much. I won’t make his mistake.’

  She gulped hard and swallowed her words, fiercely glad that she had not confessed her growing feelings for him. ‘I understand.’

  ‘I hope you do.’ He dragged her mouth back to his. ‘I hope you do.’

  Chapter Twelve

  The sound of a horn broke Sayrid’s sleep a few mornings later. Hrolf was already up and pulling his tunic on.

  ‘We have visitors…from the land,’ she said, stretching. Her body ached in many places, but a strange feeling of peace infused her. There was something about waking up with Hrolf by her side. She was slowly coming to grips with the domestic arrangements. She’d even discovered that she enjoyed baking once she got the hang of it. There was something therapeutic about pounding bread and making cakes. ‘They’re friendly and known.’

  Hrolf paused in his dressing. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘The length of the horn blast. We’ve a little time yet.’ Sayrid looped a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘You’d hardly think I wouldn’t have devised an early-warning system? Auda needed to know if she had to hide when I wasn’t here to defend her. It works. Even my father was impressed. Of course he took the credit when Kettil asked.’

  He gave a brief laugh. ‘If Kettil had allowed you to lead a felag, who knows what markets you would have conquered?’

  ‘I will take that as a compliment.’ Her heart panged. If Kettil had put her in charge of a felag as she had begged, she’d never have met Hrolf and would never have known what it was like to feel like a woman in a man’s arms. It went against everything she’d been taught—putting her needs and desires ahead of the needs of her family.

  She hugged her knees to her chest. Less than a week married and she was already thinking like a woman with her heart instead with her head. Before when she woke, her mind whirled with all the things she had to get done to make everyone safe.

  ‘It is important to be prepared. Common sense.’

  She waited for him to wish her good morning or make some lover-like remark.

  ‘Any idea who it could be? Does your warning system extend that far?’ he asked, changing the subject as he buckled his sword about his waist.

  ‘You are teasing now.’

  ‘With you, I’ve discovered anything is possible.’

  A great hollow opened within Sayrid. He might have lain in her arms all night. Their joining might have meant something to her, but it meant very little to him. He was doing what came naturally to a man, but his heart was not engaged.

  ‘I’m no sorceress and don’t possess the gift of second sight.’

  ‘How long do we have? Can you tell me that much? Given the remoteness of the location on the peninsula, I can’t believe the horn only sounds just before people arrive. You need time to assemble your men.’

  ‘After the first horn sounds? A little while.’ She hugged her knees to her chest and wished that Auda or Regin was here. Despite being in the hall where she grew up, she had no one to confide in. ‘Whoever it is will be friendly. There has been no second or third blast.’

  ‘I will make my men ready.’

  ‘But they will be friendly.’

  He lifted a brow. ‘You have your system and I have mine.’

  ‘If they’re friendly towards me, they will be friendly to you.’

  ‘One would hope so…’

  She started to get up, but her muscles ached in places where she had never dreamt she had muscles before and she collapsed back with a groan. ‘I feel worse than if I had been fighting!’

  ‘You stay in bed.’ His face had become like a mask again. She searched it, trying to find the man who had held her through the night and who had made her feel valued as a woman. In his arms, the voice that had mocked and haunted her for so many years fell silent. But that man had vanished, leaving behind a determined sea king who had no need of her.

  ‘This shouldn’t take long, particularly if your early-warning system is accurate.’

  An ice-cold shiver went down her spine. He was expecting someone and expecting them to bring trouble. And what was more infuriating, he wanted her out of the way. As if she couldn’t handle a sword! She fought better than most men.

  She shook her head. ‘You picked the wrong sort of woman. I want to see who has arrived. News travels fast, but I didn’t expect it to travel this fast. It is sure to be innocent. I’ve no wish for pointless feuds if someone takes offence at not being properly greeted by the woman of the house.’

  ‘As you wish…’ He buckled his leather chest-protector on, before grabbing one of his velvet cloaks. Very much the lord of the hall, but prepared for war.

  ‘Despite my words you dress for battle. Who do you think it could be?’ Sayrid grabbed her clothes and began dressing.

  ‘Your brother.’ He gave a half smile. ‘Here I was hoping to spend the morning in bed with you. All in all your brother seems to delight in making me do things I’ve no wish to do.’

  She fastened her belt about her middle with furious fingers. ‘Regin is on his way to see my stepmother, doing his duty finally. Why would he come here? It is at least a week overland to reach where she lives with her latest husband.’

  ‘Your eyes flash adorably when you are angry.’

  He tilted her chin upwards. His thumb lazily rubbed the bottom curve of her lip. The fire inside her roared into full flame. It was all she could do to stop from dragging his mouth to hers. ‘And you are trying to get around my questioning.’

  He let her go. Her traitorous body cried out in protest. ‘All my instincts scream that your brother is most likely to come here instead of visiting his mother. How often has he visited your stepmother in the past? Why does he want to mislead everyone? He was the only one to leave the village.’

  ‘Never, but there were reasons. Something always came up.’ Sayrid regarded the tapestries. Some of Regin’s excuses had been pretty slender, but she had accepted them because she had no wish for a return visit. ‘Once he was going to go, but turned around because he caught a fever. He didn’t want to give it to
my stepmother.’

  ‘How noble of him.’ He coughed. ‘How will your stepmother feel about his marrying a woman without a dowry?’

  ‘He still knows his duty.’

  ‘And the damage to my ship, how do you explain that?’

  ‘He is not in league with Lavrans. He just isn’t.’ A deep chill filled her bones. ‘There must be another traitor.’

  ‘If I were disaffected and had just lost my inheritance, who would I turn to? It has to be said, Sayrid.’

  The words acted like ice water. He was doing it deliberately. How little respect he had for her even to make that sort of suggestion.

  ‘You’re completely wrong. Auda swore that he had gone to see my stepmother and pay his respects now that he is properly married. Why would Regin lie to Auda?’

  ‘And you are certain Auda told you the truth.’

  ‘Auda is my sister.’ She ticked off the points on her fingers, trying to piece the events together. ‘Blodvin left a rune for her to find. It is possible I suppose that Regin changed his mind when he sobered up.’

  ‘Nevertheless, would you care to wager?’

  She stuck her chin in the air. Once these travellers arrived, she looked forward to hearing his abject apology. He might think he knew about people, but he didn’t know her brother. ‘Happily. You’ll allow me the freedom to keep up my fighting skills, even though I haven’t completely honed my housekeeping skills. I want to train with your men. And I want to train Inga with them as well.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to do such things.’ Hrolf’s eyes blazed. ‘She prefers sewing and weaving.’

  ‘She is trying to master tafl. We played ten matches yesterday. You were busy when she wanted to play a game with you.’

  ‘The last time you wagered with me, you lost.’ He captured her chin. ‘If I am right, you will stay with the women and not train at all. Is that high enough stakes for you or would you prefer something less important?’ He nodded towards the bed. ‘Maybe something where we both can win?’

  She wrenched her chin away. He thought he could control her with sex!

  ‘Then my luck is bound to change.’ She stuck out her hand. ‘I accept your wager.’