Sven: Filthy Modern Vikings

by M. , ChaShiree

  “The day for what?”

  “The day when I make you my wife.” She bolts upright as if her ass is on fire.

  “What? Are you serious? How did you...I mean…oh my goodness. Really?!?”

  “Yes baby. Grab your sarong and bathing suit. Meet me down at the beach in 30 minutes. I’ll be the handsome one in shorts waiting for you, precious.”

  “Sven. Is this really happening?” She asks. I can hear the tears in her voice and go to her immediately and pull her into my arms.

  “Hey, hey. What is this?” I ask wiping her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I just…I almost sabotaged this for us. How could I live not ever knowing your love? I love you so much. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

  “Baby, I know I am just a man and all, but I swear the vows are supposed to be said at the wedding.” I want her to laugh. She does, before leaning up on her toes and kissing me.

  “You’re right. Don’t worry. There is plenty more where that came from. Now go away so I can get ready.”

  I walk away. Temporarily. Knowing that when all is said and done, Cymion Gentry, will be my wife.

  Chapter Eight

  Cymion

  Holy shit. I'm getting married today. I'm equal parts excited, nervous, and a little sad. Excited, because duh, I'm getting married and nervous for the same reason. The sadness that I am feeling stems from my brother and sister not being here. Also, my mom's not here. I know she's insane and under my dad's thumb, but she's mom. Going through my bag, I pull out a white one-piece suit as well as a purple sarong. Then I shower, get dressed, and make my way down to the beach.

  He is standing barefoot by the shore with the insanely blue water gently lapping at his feet. This is my future and my destiny. Next to Sven is a regal looking man, who is wearing khaki board shorts and a sans shirt. If I'm honest, he looks like The Rock. Sven takes my hand and I join him.

  "I am Magistrate Ratu Jone. Shall we begin?" I nod and turn to face the magistrate.

  “Yes, sir,” Sven says.

  "You have opted for a traditional American ceremony, non?" The magistrate says with his decidedly French accent.

  "We have," Sven replies. I bounce from one foot to another. I'm anxious. I want to be his wife already.

  "Excellent," he says and begins speaking the words. Words I've heard before. But they were words that meant less nothing before and mean everything now. It's the man. I am suddenly his wife. He kisses me, further cements what I already knew. Heading back into the villa we spend the next few days in our bed, only leaving when absolutely necessary.

  * * *

  The last month as his wife has been nothing short of amazing. He's been the most attentive man I’ve ever met. He showers me daily with more love and affection than I ever thought possible. Not to mention the fact that he's made me come more times than I can count.

  Every day we’ve swam in the ocean, laid in the sun, and ate fresh local fare. While I’d love to stay in paradise, I miss my family and my friends. All good things must come to an end. I’m expected in Boston and I literally would rather be anywhere else but there. As Sven helps me pack up the ridiculous amount of clothing, mostly bathing suits we’ve acquired since being here, I realize he did this for me. I mean I knew that, but it dawns on me that he loves me so much that he would do anything for me. Looking across the bed at him, I toss the last of my pile into the suitcase and climb up on the bed.

  “What are you doing?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  “I love you,” I say, looking down at him.

  “I love you too,” he says as I jump into his waiting arms with my legs wrapping around his waist.

  “Fuck me, husband. I need you,” I say as I am kissing him.

  He leans down with me still in his arms and comes down on top on top of me kissing my neck. My legs are wrapped around his waist. He moves my legs in order to pull my bikini bottoms down. I watch as he unties his board shorts and his cock pops out, already hard and ready for me. Gripping it, he drags it through my folds wetting it with my juices before surging forward in me.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “So tight. Always so tight.”

  “So good. So good.” I chant over and over until we come together.

  Roughly thirty hours later we land at Logan Airport in Boston and make our way to the police station in a cab. I head inside while he pays the cab driver, since it’s pouring down rain.

  “Ms. Gentry,” Detective O’Brien says from behind me. I plaster on my best ‘fake it, until you make it smile’ and extend my hand to him.

  “You are looking very beautiful,” he says smiling. I pull my hand from his. Before I can correct him, Sven is by my side.

  “That’s Mrs. Jorgensen to you. What have you called her in for?” He demands impatiently.

  “Mrs. Jorgensen? That was quick,” the detective says.

  Sven starts to say something, but I grab and squeeze his hand instead. We don’t need a brawl in the police station.

  “It was, but when you are in love the length of time doesn’t matter. Shall we get to the matter at hand?”

  “Very well. This way,” he says leading us to a small nicely furnished room. Have a seat.” We do so.

  “Thank you,” I say, trying to bridge the awkwardness and not succeeding in the least.

  “We have completed our investigation. Kent Richards has confessed to hiring a Bryson Hodges to tamper with your brakes, subsequently hit your car and ran you off the road. Do you know Mr. Hodges?” He asks after I gasp. I swallow before answering.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “He is or was, my mechanic.” I say in a stronger voice.

  “The only thing Kent let me keep from my childhood was the 1973 Stingray I inherited from my maternal aunt Sally. Lucy needed a lot of work. Bryson is the best vintage car mechanic in Boston.”

  “Lucy?” The detective asks.

  “The car. My aunt named it Lucy and I thought it was cute,” I say laughing.

  “Anyhow, Bryson was the only person I spent any time with who wasn’t family. He’s an old man. Why would he do this? How did he get access to my normal car the Land Rover?”

  “Mr. Richards let him into your garage it seems. As for his reason, money. Mr. Richards found out Mr. Hodges granddaughter, the granddaughter he raised, got into Harvard. He needed money to pay her tuition. Apparently, your husband thought your death was worth roughly $70,000 dollars.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  “Well, since both of them confessed and pled guilty there is not going to be a trial. Mr. Hodges was sentenced to twenty-five years a few days ago. Mr. Richards’ attorney keeps delaying his sentencing hearing.”

  “I see,” I say.

  “I just wanted to keep you informed and let you know that the case is closed. Hopefully you will now be safe”

  “And that couldn’t have been done over the damn phone?”

  “Sven, please,” I say quietly. “Thank you, detective. Is that all?”

  “It is. I don’t think we will have any reason to be in touch about this case anymore.”

  “No reason,” Sven says under his breath. Once out on the street, he pulls me into a hug.

  “That was interesting,” I say.

  “And how does all that make you feel?” He asks.

  “Well, it’s a bit anticlimactic. Honestly, I thought there would be more to it. I don’t know why he did it. It couldn’t have been to keep his secret. I found him minutes before the accident. Why did he want to be rid of me so badly, like that? I would have divorced him.”

  “We may never know, baby.”

  “I just want to move on. Can we go home now?” I ask as a phone rings.

  “Are you going to answer that?”

  “What?”

  “Your cell phone is ringing.” It didn’t work on the island, so I haven’t heard it ring in a while, I didn’t recognize the ring tone.

  “Oh shit,” I say looking at the phone. I answer it. “Hey Mom,”

  �
��Where are you?”

  “In Boston,” I say without thinking.

  “Oh, thank God. I need to see you. Where are you staying?”

  “Where are we staying, Sven?” I ask.

  “Boston Harbor Hotel,”

  “Mom,” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “I heard him. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Thank you for taking my call, Cymion. I love you, dolly,” she says hanging up.

  That’s when I burst into tears. She hasn’t called me that since I was ten and started finishing school.

  “Baby?” Sven asks.

  “Let’s go, please. She sounded like she needs me.” And if that doesn’t fuck with my head, nothing will. That woman is usually unreadable. Numb to what’s going on around her.

  “Of course,” he says pulling up his Uber app. This should be fucking interesting.

  Chapter Nine

  Sven

  I want to see her mother as much as I need a hole in the head. To say I am more than pissed and unimpressed with how they treat their children is an understatement. But given how emotional Cym is at the prospect of seeing her, I know I am not going to deny her what she wants. I am however, going to put her mom on notice as soon as she walks in the door, and remain by my wife’s side for the duration of her visit.

  Cymion on the other hand is a nervous wreck and it is pissing me off even more.

  “Baby calm down. I don’t like seeing you worked up like this. It's not good for the baby either,” I say rubbing her baby bump.

  Her stomach is not big yet, but it's poking out enough that I can feel the hardness that is my seed growing inside her. Knowing my son or daughter is in there makes me want to beat my chest and roar it from the rooftops. It also makes me horny as fuck.

  “I know. But I can’t remember the last time she actually reached out to me. What do you think it means?”

  “I don’t know baby. But I will be right here the entire time.” Like I would be anywhere else.

  Knock. Knock.

  I tell her to stay on the couch and go to answer the door. I am poised to put her on notice, but as soon as I see the tear tracks down her cheeks, I figure she has probably had enough attacks for one day. I hold out my hand to her.

  “Mrs. Gentry. My name is Sven Jorgensen. I am Cymion’s husband. She is waiting for you. Right this way.” She shakes my hand as I usher her into the room and sit down beside my woman.

  I immediately notice the change in her. She seems… humble. Almost, beaten down if you will. Cymion notices it too if her gasp and shaky voice is any indication.

  “Mom. What’s wrong? What’s happened?” It takes a second for her to look up. When she does, I would be a cold bastard if I didn’t admit a little part of my heart lurched for her.

  “I’ve left your father,” she says almost hysterically. “After 30 years of being his wife, his secretary and event planner, the mother of his children, and I thought I was his partner; I find out he is sleeping with his accountant. A twenty-four- year-old little girl. I confronted him. He laughed and walked away from me like I was nothing to him. I spent the best years of my life trying to make his life perfect, while he tore me down every chance he got and alienated me from my own children. He didn’t even give me the courtesy of looking me in the face. I couldn’t take it anymore and left.”

  “Mom. I am so sorry. Dad was a lot of things, but I never pegged him for a cheater.”

  “My darling, please don’t apologize to me. I don’t deserve your sympathy. Not when I have been less than a worthy mother to you and your siblings. All I can do now is hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me. And maybe…help me. I have no idea what to do. I have been nothing for over thirty years.” Her father is truly a piece of shit.

  “Mrs. Gentry. Cymion and I would of course welcome you to accompany us back to Bleak. My older brother has a vacant home I am sure he and his wife would be okay with you to occupying while you figure out your next move. However, there will be some stipulations. Your husband is never to step foot there. I don’t want him anywhere near my wife. You want to go back to him that is your business. Leave us the fuck out of it. Understand?” I don’t give a fuck about how harsh it might seem. I won’t have her father upsetting my woman and child. Cymion squeezes my hand, calming me like only she can.

  “I understand Mr. Jorgensen. Thank you for your generosity. I am so happy both of my daughters found strong men to love them. How is Tabitha?”

  “She’s fine mama. Getting ready to give birth any moment. She is driving Loki crazy.” We both laugh thinking about the last time we saw him.

  “And Payton. How is your brother?” You can hear the regret in her voice as she inquiries about the children she pushed aside for her husband.

  “His wife is not too far behind Tabby.” Cymion yawns beside me and the protector inside me rises up.

  “Come on baby. You and the baby need sleep.” It isn’t until I hear the gasps from her mother that I realize what I let slip out.

  “Cymion. Are you pregnant as well?” She asks with tears in her eyes.

  “Yes, mama. We are having a baby,” she rubs her little tummy as she says it.

  “I am so happy for you darling girl, after all you have been through. I can only hope you and your siblings will allow me to be a grandparent to your children.”

  “Of course, mama. We all love you.” They embrace and cry for a few seconds before I pull them apart. Even happy tears are too much for me to take coming from the woman I love.

  We agree to meet in the morning and head back. I just hope her mother is not playing with her emotions. I can’t promise the lessons I learned to not harm a woman would deter me if she fucks with my wife.

  Chapter Ten

  Cymion

  Back in Bleak we are greeted with a party at UTGARD. Fuck, I am feeling overwhelmed with the fact that EVERYONE I know is here. I am exhausted, and while I appreciate the sentiment coming off a month-long vacation, I just want to get back into my groove. But I also don’t want to be a bitch, so I grin and bear it.

  Stacy, my amazing new mother in law, apparently knew about Sven’s grand plan. She pulls me into a hug that I kinda melt into. She is about the nicest woman I’ve ever met. Even her big eighties hair is endearing.

  “Thank you for all of this, Mrs. Jorgensen,” I say gesturing.

  The decor is exactly what I would have selected if I had actually had a wedding reception. The one I had with Kent was done by Kent's mother, Wilhelmina. That woman hated me more than I ever thought it was possible to hate someone. Thank the fuck that the bitch is out of my life. My new life has already started.

  “Call me Stacy, please. I know this is a little much, but tonight was the only night. Loki and Hank are booked solid with reservations and private parties for the next three weeks,” she explains.

  “I totally understand,” I say looking around the room.

  “How far along are you?” Stacy asks surprising me.

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “Oh, honey. I’ve had seven children. I can see the signs.” I laugh with her.

  “Sixteen weeks. We aren’t really telling anyone yet.” I give my little tiny bump a rub.

  “My lips are sealed. You know my son has it bad for you, right?”

  “I do know that, Stacy,” I say smiling.

  “When he told me that he was basically kidnapping you and taking you to Fiji, I tried talking him out of it. But I am glad he got you to marry him,” she says smiling. “And who is this?”

  “Oh right. Stacy, this is my mother Fallon Gentry. Mom, this is Sven’s mom, Stacy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Stacy says at the same time my mom says “pleasure.” They shake hands and start talking about all the babies running around Bleak and Moosehead these days. I am barely paying attention when I see Tabby rush up to us. Well, rush as much as she can with that pregnant belly.

  “Is it true?” She asks out of breath.

  “Calm down, Tabs. Is what
true?”

  “Sven talked to Loki and Loki told me. Did you really leave that jackass?”

  “I really did,” my mom answers loudly.

  Prior to this, she would have scolded Tabby for airing our dirty laundry in public. I am amazed at how shedding the clout of my dad has given her a whole new personality. This is the Fallon my aunt Sally told me about. The way she was before my dad broke her spirit. Tabby pulls our mother into a hug and before I know it Payton and Perry are joining in as well. Perry is my father’s brother’s son, but he loves my mom.

  “I know I have a lot to apologize and make amends for, but…” I put my hand on her arm. Essentially, she is an emotionally abused woman.

  “Mom, you have nothing to apologize for. I am a little older than the girls. I was there. I know how he was. I should have taken you with me when I left.”

  “I wouldn’t have come then, Payton. It was something I had to decide for myself.”

  “I know mom, but I should have tried.”

  “Don’t think about. I’m fine now. Ready to start over. It’s scary, but I can do it,” she says with a shaky smile.

  Later in the evening, I am sitting with Sven on the couch in our house. We got mom settled at Erik and Lanie’s old house and came right home.

  “I want a shower and our bed,” I say wistfully. “And ice cream. Do you think the ice cream is still good?”

  “Does ice cream go bad?”

  “I don’t know,” I say getting up and checking the freezer. “Damn. This is some old ass ice cream,” I say, tossing it into the trash, while yelling to Sven who is still in the living room.

  “I can go get some,” he says walking into the kitchen.

  “Nah. Let’s go to bed instead,” I say, changing my mind.

  “Let me fuck you instead,” he says, quirking an eyebrow at me.

  “Isn’t that what I said?” I ask pulling my shirt off followed by my bra. He pulls his own shirt off and unbuttons his shorts letting them fall before kicking them off. I shimmy out of both my jeans and panties.