We Roam The Seas

by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt

  Grabbing her hips, Asgar positions himself before her, holding her just so to tease as he enters her just a little and then pulls out, hearing her moan only to cry in frustration a second later. Pulling her close he whispers in her ear, “You. Are. Mine.”, biting down on her lobe making her arch into him.

  Her breathing erratic, her body humming and ready to explode Freya breathes out, “I. Am. Yours.”, in hiccupping gasps, the last word not entirely off her tongue when Asgar thrusts with all his might, groaning as her warm, tight depths take him in and she screams, her body exploding into a million pieces as he holds her tight. Her body trembles against his as he makes love to her, her lips only leaving his when she needs to gasp for breath.

  “By the Gods, Freya,” he mutters against her skin as her muscles clench around him again in her second release, her head going back as she screams his name. He pulls her face to his, his forehead and nose brushing hers as he picks up the pace, her incoherent words lingering on his skin.

  “Look at me,” he growls, her eyes snapping open immediately. The green depths pull him in and wrap around his heart and he finally knows what he feels for her. This aching need in his chest that nags him day and night. “Freya, I..” he starts to say, bending his head farther down, pressing his skin tight to hers as the water sloshes around their movement. “Freya… I. Love… I love you.”

  Freya grips the sides of his face, looking in his eyes, seeing the truth and emotion plain as day before her and her soul opens for him, letting him in as tears find her lashes. “I love you…. Too,” she gasps, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and feeling him shudder under her touch. Her third release finds her, her clenching core bringing his and he captures her mouth as his manhood bathes her in his essence.

  They hold each other tight as they ride the waves of pleasure, kissing and touching, soothing their spent muscles. Asgar trails fingers down Freya’s spine as she lays her head on his shoulder, tracing small circles on his chest as more tears slip silently out and run from her cheek to his skin.

  “I love you, my beautiful,” he whispers, kissing her hair and freeing it from its bun; pulling his fingers through it to let the curls fall on her pale skin.

  “I love you, my husband,” she smiles up at him, seeing a different look in those blue pools that makes her heart sing.

  He kisses her sweetly, pulling her up and pushing them out into the deeper water. The cool liquid surrounds them, doing nothing to cool the heat between them. Nothing in Freya’s knowledge can cool what she feels for this man right this second. She loves him and he loves her. She giggles and he squeezes her tighter, laughing right along with her as the ripples from their lazy movement flow around them.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~

  “You see that, slave boy,” Callen spits out in Eska’s ear, their position within the waterfall hidden from Asgar and Freya’s view. “Your little wench loves the way he lays it to her. Look at the way she opens for him. Oh, hear that moaning? Yes, by the Gods, I think she’s a pro. You’re sure she was a maiden before this?”

  The fire haired man’s words make his blood boil, but, as he watches Freya being defiled by the barbarian, his blood freezes, his eyes narrowing in on their writhing forms beyond the wall of water concealing them within the cave. Looking to Callen, then to his brother Bracka, Eska can’t talk because if he does it will be nothing but a feral yell before he jumps from their hiding spot to slit the man’s throat.

  “She. Was. Untouched. I am sure of it,” he finally grinds out as Freya’s screams of passion echo in their dark space. When he had noticed the pair on the shore, Asgar stripping before Freya, Eska had wanted to jump out and kill him as soon as his back was turned, but the brothers had other plans.

  “Calm, our friend.” Barack says, placing a hand on Eska’s shoulder. “Tonight, it will finally be time. We get our revenge, you get the girl, and then we can share her.”

  The two men’s laughs threaten to break through their barrier and they quickly quiet, moving further into the darkness to make sure if Asgar happens to hear them, he won’t see them if he investigates. Eska’s hands clench at his sides, wanting this to finally be over, but, at the same time, hating the deal he had to strike for them to help him.

  “I will share her with you once.” He looks between the brothers seeing their evil grins as they nod. “After that, you leave us alone.”

  “Sure thing, friend.” Callen slaps him on the shoulder while sharing an unseen moment with his brother, both smiling as the clueless man nods between them. Oh, this night of celebration was going to be fun.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  “The sky is a beautiful red tonight,” Freya smiles, seeing the sunset through their open window as Asgar sits on the floor before her, the smooth strands of his hair flowing through her fingers as she braids it slowly. They have been lazy in their actions since their interlude in the waterfall that afternoon and Freya breaks out in a wide grin just remembering it.

  “It is,” Asgar agrees, leaning his head back on her knee so that he can see her face, “but not as beautiful as my wife.” He squeezes the back of her leg and places a light kiss to the inside of her ankle as he lifts her leg up, placing it over his shoulder as Freya blushes.

  Tying the leather bands in his braid, Freya flicks it over his shoulder and teases, “Be careful where you kiss, my husband, or we might be late for the feast.” She laughs lightly as his grip intensifies on her leg, squealing as his swift movement to his feet throws her on her back, splayed across the soft furs as he hovers over her.

  His intense gaze burrows into her, making her melt with anticipation and a hint of fear all in one. One of his large hands grips her hip as the other traps her face, the feeling of being his captive making a shiver run over her skin. His hand travels from her hip, roughly running over the thin material of her dress to land just on the edge of her breasts, his fingers teasing at the bare tops, playing with the hem of material.

  “Is my wife threatening me with her body?” The rumble of his voice rolls over her skin as he lightly grazes his nose and lips over her cheek, ear and neck. She whimpers and arches into him when his teeth graze the crux of her neck, his hand squeezing her breast gently through her dress.

  “We would surely be late,” he whispers, kissing her neck and then her lips as he looks her in the eye. He grins as he sees the pink shade to her skin, her chest rising and falling beautifully as he can tell her heart is racing. He sighs, letting his body cover hers as he takes her lips; slowly, purposefully drawing the kisses out as her hands glide up his sides to capture his face.

  Freya grumbles as his tongue sweeps out, tracing her lips and she pushes his face away. “We need to go before this gets to the point where we’ll never leave.” Her body is vibrating with need for him but she knows it will be disgraceful if they are late to the feast.

  Asgar moans in frustration, hoping she would have wanted to stay in bed, and placing his forehead to hers he huffs out a breath, pushing himself to his feet. Taking her hand and helping her up, he can feel the shake in Freya’s touch and he knows her body is on edge, wanting his attention and needing it to feel her release but that she is denying herself. He tugs her into his chest as she tries to walk away, wrapping his arms around her as she gives him a frustrated look.

  “My wife will deny herself pleasure at the gain of her people?” He cocks his head to the side, reaching down and brushing some loose hairs from her face and tucking them behind her ear. The feast and celebration will not commence without the future Jarl and his wife and it would leave the villagers waiting.

  “I deny myself only to wait for a better time,” she smiles patting him on the cheek and breaking from his embrace. At the door she tries to shake away the tingling sensation left by his touch, adjusting her dress at the chest to fix the areas he had man-handled. Looking over her shoulder lets her see Asgar just standing there with a slight grin on his lips. “Well come on.”

  She swings open the door, revealing the fading sunset and
the slightly chilly late summer night and she takes a deep breath, the smell of food wafting up from the great hall making her stomach growl. Asgar’s large hand encases hers as he laughs, pulling her from their little home onto the cart path. The coolness of the dirt seeps through Freya’s thin sandals, helping to calm the still blazing desire within and she takes another deep breath in, releasing it slowly so that her husband is none the wiser.

  Music is mingling with chatter as they hit the steps for the great hall, the cheerful and already rowdy occupants all greeting them as they weave their way to the dais. Parts of the side wall are propped open, letting the fresh night air cool off the celebration and letting nature know they are honoring it and its bounty yet to come. Greeting her new family, Freya sits to the left of Asgar, taking his hand when he rests it palm up on his arm rest; their fingers tangling perfectly with the sensation seemingly reaching into her heart.

  She sees the wink and smile he gives her, but it soon beckoned by her nieces and nephews as Asgar’s attention is pulled by his father and brothers. She is pulled from the dais by Asa’s boys, Egil, Fenris and Gleb, tugged along in a circle and they dance around in a circle as the drums pick up their rhythm. The boys laughs are joined with shouts of encouragement from the crowd, some joining in with clapping as some pound their weapons on the shield hung on the wall. The youngest, Gleb, starts to trip up at their pace and Freya swings him up into her arms, his giggles running out uncontrollably as she spins in the middle of the floor, his brothers dancing and stomping around her.

  She laughs right along with the boys and those watching, the happiness of the moment making her heart swell as she pulls Gleb’s face to hers, kissing his chubby little cheek as he wraps his little arms around her neck. The toddlers attention pulls at something within her and as the drums and pounding cut off, her dancing coming to an end with cheers and shouts around her, Freya holds the little boy tight as tears start to rim her lashes.

  Gleb’s little hands grip her cheeks as his warm brown eyes look at her, the dirt smeared smile making her laugh as he talks. “No cry Freya,” he grins, kissing her lightly on the corner of the mouth and hipping down into his brothers arms, disappearing into the crowd as they all start to dig into the food.

  The toddlers missing warmth and weight makes her feel empty and Freya wraps her arms around herself, a few of the tears slipping out silently. A familiar hand wraps around the back of her neck, turning her to look into those ice blue eyes as his warm, hard chest meets her shoulders.

  “Come with me, my wife,” he whispers, wrapping his arm around her waist as they quietly make their way down the ramp of one of the open sides. The pending darkness of the night surrounds them and barely one hundred steps from the hall, Asgar’s strong arms pull her behind a building, shielded from sight.

  The shadow from the building hides most of their features, but as Asgar’s hand finds her cheek, his thumb wipes away the tears that had fallen. With her back up against the rough wood, Freya’s heavy breathing cannot be hidden, the fire within her igniting just at the light whisper of his warm breath on her skin as he leans in.

  “Why the tears?” He asks, running his nose over her skin and kissing her ear, and then her neck, feeling her shudder as her breathing picks up. Asgar knows why she has become emotional; he has seen it in each of his sister in laws after their marriages right up until the moment they gave birth to their first child, and the thought of his love being pregnant with his child makes his heart swell. His knee pushes between her thighs, forcing them apart as his hand runs down the center of her torso, stopping just above his thigh at her apex, smiling at how her breathing had sped up even more. If he didn’t give her what she needs, he’s afraid she might faint.

  “I…I don’t know.” She gets out between breaths, her entire body lit on fire from his demanding touches. Being here out in the open was giving this encounter a naughty feeling and as Asgar’s thumb sweeps across her mound through her dress she can’t hold in the moan, arching into him with pleasure spikes running through her as her apex rubs along his thigh.

  “Yes you do. You know why.” He almost growls in her ear, cupping her through the dress possessively and covering her mouth as she throws her head back, her moans announcing she is ready to explode. He presses his body into hers, lifting her off the ground and pinning her to the building, loving the way her fingers grip into his flesh to hold on. “Tell. Me,” he demands, releasing her mouth to hear her gasps.

  Freya doesn’t want to state the reason out loud, thinking it will be too much to demand from this love they had just declared for one another, but as Asgar rolls his hips against her, almost sending her over the edge without his flesh even touching her intimately, she sighs. “I want to have a child,” she almost cries out, pulling his nose to hers with her palms on his cheeks. She reigns in the turmoil of emotions rolling around and says more calmly, “I want to have your child.”

  Silence falls between them, the sounds of the celebration in the not so far off hall wrapping around the darkness around them. He doesn’t move his face in her hands and his body pressed tight against hers as he lets the perfect image settle in his mind. His beautiful Freya lying on their bed, naked, her perfect stomach stretched and housing his child; there is nothing more amazing that he can think of. He can tell she thinks he is hesitant or even mad, her next sentence being almost a sob.

  “That is acceptable, is it not?” The waver in her voice gives Freya’s worry away and she recoils her hands from his skin, moving them to his tunic to stop the burn of their touch. She can feel the rumble of his voice deep within his chest before his lips meet her ear and he speaks.

  “Only one?” He asks, bunching her dress in his fist and shoving it up to her waist while rolling his hips into her now bare mound, her warmth seeping through his breeches making him grind his teeth as she whimpers. He knows he is driving her to be incoherent and he chuckles in her ear, the deep sound traveling out into the night. “Only one, my beautiful love? Only one child?”

  His question makes her heart sing, knowing he wants a child as much as she does she runs her hands down his chest, pulling at the laces of his breeches to free him. Tugging the last lace free, she grasps his shaft, stroking her hand up slowly hearing his sharp intake of breath, wanting him to know how much she wanted him in all ways possible. She can feel his grin against her cheek as she says, “I want as many as you will give me, my husband.”

  “Well,” he whispers, trailing his lips from one cheek to the other, kissing her sensually on the lips with each pass. “We better get started,” adjusting himself between her legs, resting the head of his shaft at her entrance, feeling her squirm in his grasp. Capturing her lips in a demanding kiss, Asgar bites her bottom lip as he thrusts into her, the warmth and clench of her depths almost sending him over the edge immediately.

  White spots start to edge her vision as Freya arches her back, giving Asgar the perfect angle to dive deep within her. She’s trying to stay as silent as possible, but the way his cock strokes every perfect spot she moans loudly, throwing her head back. He whispers in her ear in his native tongue to stay silent, the rough sound of his voice making the flame grow within her and she wraps her arms around his neck, burying his face against her neck as his thrusts become harder and deeper.

  Asgar can feel her muscles squeeze around him, the tight perfect feeling making him moan into her neck and he picks up his pace wanting to send her over the edge with him. “Show me what you want,” he growls, his flesh pounding against her as he pulls her hips down to him, her muscles clenching around his shaft, pulling his essence from him more so as he spills into her. Freya’s head goes back, his hand clamping down on her lips right before she screams out his name.

  The welcome weight of his body presses her up against the building as they try and reign in their breathing and Freya kisses the inside of his hand, moving it to her chest so that he can feel her heartbeat. Asgar’s warm breath on her neck moves up to her cheek, then lingers above he
r lips as her eyes try to see his features through the shadow of the night. His lips touch hers in hesitant, tender kisses, trying to bring her down gently from haze of their pleasure.

  “My soul may roam the seas, looking for adventure,” he whispers placing his forehead against hers as he pulls himself from her, lowering her to the ground, “but my heart, my heart will always be here.” He taps his fingers lightly on her chest, resting them there and rubbing in a small circle as he spies the smile on Freya’s lips. It is the truth and he is pretty sure he has known it since the first instance he set eyes on her, running into her father’s great hall.

  “I love you, my husband.” She tilts her face up, kissing him deeply, feeling the groan run through his chest as he wraps his arms around her as she sighs. She is safe with him, she knows this, and now she also knows they are one. She can feel the difference when he holds her and kisses her, the way she can sense his eyes on her now through the dark makes her feel wanted.

  “I love you,” he grins, kissing her forehead and pulling her to him for a long moment, something inside of him telling him not to let her go. He tangles her hair into his fingers, contemplating on the feeling of dread settling over his heart as he hears the celebration still running strong, but he shakes the feeling off, kissing her one more time.

  Stepping just to the edge of the building, Asgar adjust himself and straightens Freya’s hair as she laces his breeches for him, tying them tight and trailing her fingers along his stomach for a second, a wicked grin on her lips as he tugs her head back. “Come now, my wife, there will be plenty of time for play later.”

  They laugh together as they kiss, making their way back to the hall with their hands tightly entwined. Roars and cheers meet them as Asgar lifts her up into the lively atmosphere, a blush finding her when one of the men yells out asking if they had a good fuck.