by Jaid Black
He stared at her for a long moment, but said nothing. He blinked, then glanced away, his gaze staring absently at the moon overhead. “There is nothing you can do, nothing you can say, no defiant act you can make, that will get me to release you,” he said softly.
“But why?” she asked pleadingly. “Make me understand. Make me understand why you can’t let me leave and take a native woman as a wife—a woman who can better deal with being taken from everything and everyone she’s ever known.”
Geirwolf sighed. “Peggy…”
“Yes?”
He looked at her again, his grim features uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Would you believe me if I said I was sorry for what’s happened?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
She was surprised by how much it hurt to hear Geirwolf admit that he felt as though he’d made a mistake when he captured her. But then she could hardly blame him. She’d been far from kind or accepting of him since the very beginning. But then she could hardly blame herself. Because she hadn’t wanted to be captured in the first place. Her emotions, it seemed, were growing more and more confusing and uncertain.
“Well I am,” he murmured. “I’m very sorry.”
Her spine straightened. She suppressed the sorrow she felt at knowing he considered her to be a mistake, telling herself it was ridiculous to feel that way. “I see,” she said a bit stiffly.
“No.” Geirwolf’s gaze bore into hers. “You don’t.” He clasped her hands in his. “My English is not always so good. What I mean is, I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how difficult of a transition this would be for you.” He smiled. “My people have been capturing brides for a thousand years. And so I thought, in all my arrogance, that my way was the better way.”
He snorted at that, then released her hands. “For this I am sorry because had I really considered your feelings I probably would have forced the lust I felt for you at bay and made myself take a bride from the women here. But I didn’t and that truth cannot be changed. I can’t be sorry you are mine, Peggy Valkraad, so please don’t ask me to be, but I am sorry that you are unhappy that it is so.”
Peggy nodded, his words making her feel more content than they perhaps should have. “And now?”
One of Geirwolf’s eyebrows shot up. “Now that you are here how can I possibly regret the fact that you are mine? I could never send you away, Peggy. Never.”
She gave him a half-smile. “Despite all my screaming?”
His smile came slowly, the twinkle in his eyes restored. “Yes, despite the screaming,” he murmured.
They studied each other without speaking for a prolonged moment. Eventually Peggy glanced away, her sigh somewhat mournful. “Wolf…”
“Yes?”
“It does make me feel better to know that you’re sorry I’m unhappy, but I just don’t know that I can ever really be happy here. Because a part of me will always long to be free.” She sighed again. “And resent you for not giving me that freedom back.”
Geirwolf closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again and waited for her to make eye contact before responding. “I will not lie and say I would free you if I could because if faced with that choice I’m not certain I could be so selfless, but Peggy, you must understand that this choice is no longer mine. It never really was mine. Though I admit I planned to steal you all along.”
She squinted her eyes at that. “I don’t understand…”
“From the moment you clapped eyes on the men from the Hallfreor clan your choices had been taken from you.” Geirwolf’s eyes narrowed in a serious fashion. “The clans of New Norway have thrived for as long as they have for the simple reason that nobody knows of our existence. Whether I had desired you for my own bride or not, the warriors who accompanied me that day I stole you from the Hallfreors would never have let you go back from whence you’d come for fear you’d tell outsiders about our people.”
Peggy chewed that over for a long moment, her thoughts and emotions in turmoil.
“I’m sorry you are unhappy, Peggy,” Geirwolf murmured, “but there is no way my people will ever let you leave.”
She took a deep breath and expelled it. For some reason or another, knowing that Geirwolf didn’t have the power to let her go, that he’d never held that power, made it easier to let the anger toward him as a person go. She wasn’t quite ready to let her anger with the people of New Norway in general go, but it wasn’t the people of New Norway in general that she was married to. “So what you’re saying is that we’re stuck with each other and need to make the most of it?”
Geirwolf frowned. “You gave my words the grimmest possible connotation, but yes, I suppose this is what I am saying.”
She chuckled softly at that, the twinkle back in her own eyes. “I didn’t mean that quite like it came out but thank you for understanding.”
Geirwolf took her hands in his again, his expression serious. “Please, Peggy,” he murmured. “Let us begin again. Give me and our marriage a chance and I promise you I will never let you down.”
Peggy bit her lip, her gaze locked with his.
“You won’t regret it,” he said softly, his lips coming down to kiss her forehead. “I vow it.”
She closed her eyes for a threadbare moment, trying to sort out her emotions. When she opened them again she saw that Geirwolf was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her decision.
Her thoughts were in such chaos that Peggy ended up answering him without words. She couldn’t seem to voice her feelings aloud so she told him what he needed to hear with her body.
Without giving it any more thought, Peggy gave into her instincts and let go. Turning around, she hoisted the furs up to her waist and, trembling from the cold, clutched onto a nearby wall while exposing her naked pussy to him. Arousal shot through her at the sound of her husband sucking in his breath.
“Peggy,” Geirwolf said thickly. He came up behind her and roughly palmed her ass, kneading the two globes until they were warm and toasty. She could feel his eyes devouring her cunt, devouring her ass. “I’m glad you are mine.”
She closed her eyes as he lowered his braies to his knees, her nipples hardening. The feel of the frigid air hitting her pussy coupled with the possessive way she could feel his gaze boring into her exposed cunt made her soaking wet and ready to take him in.
But Geirwolf didn’t mount her. He stared at her pussy for a long time while his callused fingers kneaded her buttocks, as if memorizing the way her cunt looked. And then he sighed, a sound she wasn’t certain what to make of.
Geirwolf let her buttocks go, then pulled the polar bear furs back down to cover her. “I’m a sentimental fool perhaps, but I can’t take you like this. Not now.” He patted her gently on the buttocks. “Not until I’m certain you truly want me.”
Peggy closed her eyes briefly, stunned at the physical and emotional disappointment she felt at his words. Nevertheless, she made no protest when he took her by the hand and quietly walked her back to the breeding stalls. She supposed she should have felt embarrassed by the quasi-rejection, but oddly enough, she respected him more for it.
Life was getting very confusing, she thought on a shiver. Very confusing indeed.
Chapter 13
Two evenings later, Peggy came in from a day of watching other women be trained and opened the door to her private chamber. She found Geirwolf asleep on the bed, his big body sprawled out across it as he lounged on his back. Apparently he had come to her early tonight and had fallen asleep while waiting on her return.
She bit her lip. He looked so damn sexy just now, maybe even sexier than he looked when awake.
Her eyes flicked down to his groin. He was erect. Even in his sleep he still wanted her.
Peggy closed her eyes briefly, her emotions at war within her mind and heart. The tough-as-nails side of her, that side of her that had gotten her through her father’s death and then again through college and graduate school, wanted to keep Geirwolf at bay forev
er just to prove that…well, she wasn’t precisely certain what she was trying to prove. That she was strong perhaps? She sighed. Geirwolf had already told her at least ten times how much he admired her strength of spirit. So who was she trying to prove herself too? Herself perhaps, she admitted.
But the other side of Peggy, the nurturing side that wanted to love and to be loved, yearned to reach out to this man, to her captor…to her husband.
He was always so strong, she thought with admiration, her gaze flicking over the chiseled lines of his face. So strong and so kind…
Naked, her feet freshly painted and her pubic hair freshly trimmed, Peggy lowered her body to the bed and pulled Geirwolf’s braies down to his knees. His erection instantly sprang free, the thick piece of flesh pulsing as she palmed it.
“Peggy?” Geirwolf said softly, his tone confused. He blinked, trying to wake up. “What are you—” He sucked in his breath when she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, whatever he’d been about to say long forgotten. “Peggy,” he murmured, the fingers of one callused hand sifting through her hair. “That feels wonderful, my love.”
His love.
Peggy closed her eyes and gave herself up to her feelings, to her desires. She took his cock all the way in, deep-throating it until it touched her tonsils.
“Ja,” he breathed out, his muscles clenching as he twined tendrils of her coppery hair around his hand. “Yes.”
She sucked him feverishly, her mouth and lips working up and down the length of his steel-hard cock in fast, suctioning strokes. The sound of saliva meeting flesh competed with the sound of her husband’s breath catching.
“Ja,” he gritted out, his voice sounding half-delirious as he possessively tightened his hold on her hair. “Sug kuken min,” he said hoarsely, too far gone to speak in English. Suck my cock.
Peggy sucked him like a hungry animal, her face working furiously up and down the head and shaft. She brought her fingers into play as she sucked him off, massaging the sacs that lay tightly against his groin.
His moans grew louder as she took him in faster—deeper—harder—faster—deeper—harder…
“Peggy,” he groaned, his muscles tensing and his eyes closing. “My Peggy…”
Geirwolf came on a loud groan, his jaw clenching and his teeth gritting. He spurted hot cum into her mouth as his entire body shuddered and convulsed, moaning as she drank it all up.
Peggy made a suctioning movement with her lips one final time, depleting the head of any remaining droplets. She swallowed it, then glanced up at him, her expression vulnerable.
Would he act smugly because she’d caved in this much? Would he behave arrogantly, knowing as he did the power he wielded over her?
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice humble. His wolf-blue eyes looked anything but smug and arrogant. They looked grateful. And at peace. “That was a precious gift you gave to me.”
Peggy blinked, tears welling up in her eyes. “I—I’m scared,” she breathed out. “I’m so very scared.”
Geirwolf’s eyes softened. “I know, baby.” He held out his hands and pulled her down so she was laying on top of his chest. He kissed the top of her head, his hands gently stroking her back. “I know.”
Chapter 14
One week later
Geirwolf’s thoughts were in turmoil as he walked toward the breeding stalls. He hadn’t touched Peggy in a sexual way for nigh unto a week for he wanted her to come to him when she was ready. Or at least for now, he mentally qualified, until her fears had been allayed.
But every night grew worse. Every night it became more and more difficult to resist the temptation of burying his rigid cock into her warm, pliant pussy or her talented, hot mouth…especially now that he knew what both of them felt like. He had no idea how or if he’d make it through even one more evening alone with her. He also knew, however, that he didn’t want to frighten her, so he’d have to find a way to make it through the evening whether she wanted to be sexual with him or not.
Geirwolf didn’t want to be an arrogant autocrat who took what he wanted when he wanted it, consequences be damned. His father had been that way when first his mother had been stolen, and if his grandmother’s gossip could be replied upon (which it usually could) it had taken the jarl’s wife a full four years to accept her place at his side. Four years was a hell of a long time—a lot longer than Geirwolf wanted to spend with Peggy feeling ambivalent towards him.
And so Geirwolf had held himself back, not wanting to make the same mistakes his father had made with his mother. The older couple was happy now, aye, but that happiness had come at the price of four years they could never get back.
The last week with Peggy had been wonderful in all ways except sexually. They were becoming friends, which was something he had never before experienced with a woman. He even felt comfortable sharing his feelings with her, which was something he had never before experienced with a woman or a man.
Geirwolf had been raised to be stoic and aloof, yet in a week’s time Peggy had managed to penetrate all of the walls he’d spent a lifetime erecting. He had been raised to be autocratic and domineering, yet the mere sight of his wife made him feel tender emotions he wasn’t entirely comfortable feeling.
He wanted her—more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything in his life.
He was ready to be mated, and at thirty-four years was far past the age that most warriors reached before they took a bride. All of these years he had held himself back, hunting time and time again for a female who gave him the right feeling. Peggy was that female—he was sure of it.
He had watched her from afar for weeks, studying the way she interacted with others, studying everything there was to know about her. He admired her keen intellect, admired her independent, adventurous spirit, admired too the beauty of her lush, fleshy form. He had known the moment he’d clapped eyes on her back in outlander Barrow that she was the one. The weeks he’d spent studying her had only confirmed it.
The image of Peggy, naked and wanting him of her own volition, popped into Geirwolf’s mind—again. He sighed, knowing it was but setting himself up for a fall to fantasize about an intimacy she wasn’t yet ready to feel, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
He was already in love with her. He was beginning to wonder if she’d ever fall in love with him.
Geirwolf walked stoically toward the breeding stalls, realizing as he did that in the end the answer to that question didn’t matter. They were wed. They would always be wed. Peggy would always belong to him even if his love was never returned.
His jaw tightened as he considered the fact that it was possible his wife would never want him. He prayed to the gods that such would not be the case, but knew he had to prepare himself for that outcome.
Geirwolf prepared to open the door to Peggy’s private stall, expecting to find her already asleep for he was coming to her later than usual. His hand stilled on the latch when the sound of soft moans coming from the other side of the door reached his ears. Stunned, he stood there in shock for a threadbare moment before a hot, all-consuming possessiveness coursed through him.
She has taken a lover. My wife is cheating on me…
Furious, and ready to kill whomever it was that was fucking her, Geirwolf pushed the heavy door open with all of his strength, inducing it to crash against the earthen wall. His heartbeat thumping like mad, adrenaline rushing through his blood, he stepped inside the dimly lit room, the sound of the door crashing shut behind him filling the small chamber. “What!” he bellowed, “is going on in—”
His body stilled as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the chamber’s single lit torch. He swallowed over the quickly forming lump in his throat as he watched Peggy masturbate on her back, her fingers gliding over her erect, slippery clit as she rocked back and forth in a slow undulation.
“I want you,” she whispered. Her eyes were closed. Her voice sounded tired, a bit weary. “I’m sick of fighting it,” she said hoarsely.
Geirwolf’s mind now realized that no other male had fucked his wife, yet his body, still pumping full of primal adrenaline, hadn’t quite caught up. His breathing was labored, possessiveness swamping him. She was laid out on the mating bed, her legs splayed wide apart, his for the taking.
Reacting instinctively, he came to her in a territorial fashion, pushing his braies down to his knees as he stood before her at the foot of the bed. Grabbing her thighs and pushing them apart, he entered her wet flesh without ceremony, seating himself to the hilt in one violent thrust.
“Fitta mi,” he hissed, his teeth gritting. “My cunt.”
Peggy gasped when Geirwolf thrust inside of her, then gasped again when he palmed her breasts and began to ride her body hard. Her husband had a menacing appearance every day, but tonight he looked downright dangerous, she thought. The tattoo of the dragon that snaked up his left arm seemed to move as his muscles flexed in time with his thrusts.
“Faster,” she prodded him on. She had been given a week to sort out her feelings and now she wanted him so badly that even her nostrils were flaring. “Fuck me harder.”
Standing before her at the foot of the bed, her legs spread wide apart by his callused hands, Geirwolf gave her what she wanted as hard as she wanted it. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs and his jaw clenched hotly as he buried his stiff cock inside of her pussy, over and over, again and again.
“Oh god,” Peggy moaned, her head falling back and her back arching. She could hear the sound of their flesh meeting, the sound of her pussy sucking him back in with every upstroke. “Oh god.”
“Come for me,” Geirwolf ground out. He rotated his hips and slammed into her pussy harder. His fingers dug more securely into her thighs as he picked up the pace and fucked her with fast, merciless movements. “Now.”
