Viking's Claim (Kilts & Kisses #4)(20)

It’s… beautiful.

The clearing in the woods, with the old trees towering high above us, is lit with a number of small torches flickering widely. A small number of Vikings sit on benches hewn from fallen logs—Freya, and the men she was sitting with, and a few others. Part of me is saddened by the fact that my friends aren’t here, but I know they’d understand. They’d understand that marrying this man as soon as I possibly can is everything, and we can celebrate with them later.

To one side, standing by a boulder carved with runes and symbols and a small wooden structured adorned with flowers, stands the pagan priest. And there, beside him, is the man I’ve fallen completely in love with.

Tor.

I move like in a dream, the pale white dress Freya found in the trunk of plundered treasures loose on me as it flows behind me. I go to him, and I take his hands as I look into his eyes. The holy man says words in a language I don’t understand, but I know the meaning behind them. And I know how they make me feel when I lock eyes with Tor.

The moon glows down on us, and the air is full of the smells of the woods, and the torches. And this is everything I’ve always wanted, even if I never knew it until now. Words are said, we repeat them. We drink wine from a shared cup, the holy man burns a slip of parchment, and when he turns to me and smiles kindly as he nods towards Tor, I know it’s real.

We’re married.

I fall into his arms as the small crowd stands and cheers. And I’m still kissing him when Tor stands and strides away, right through the woods back towards camp. Back towards his tent.

“Come, wife,” he growls into my mouth.

“Anywhere you want to take me, husband,” I purr back, melting into him as he strides through the moonlit woods.





Chapter 12





Rhona




My back crashes against the big wooden center post of Tor’s tent, and when he crushes against my body and kisses me fiercely, I moan into his lips.

I’m married.

His.

Forever.

The thought sends heat blazing through me, my skin tingling and my heart racing with excitement as I kiss him hungrily, with everything I have, until we’re gasping for air. His mouth falls to my neck, making me cry out in pleasure as his lips tease my skin, teeth nipping at me just enough to take my breath away. His big hands slide over my hips, pulling me into him possessively and grinding the thick bulge in his breeches against my center.

The gauzy white dress that Freya found for me was a bit large for me, and so we ended up cinching it with one of her metal and bead studded leather belts. Couple that with the Viking sandals on my feet and the crown of flowers in my hair, and I feel like… well, some sort of forest nymph. Part lord’s daughter, part girl of the forest. And entirely Tor’s.

There’s no shame or regret about having already done what I know we’re about to do before we were wed. Because it was with him. With my husband. And knowing it’s Tor who took my virginity, and Tor and Tor alone who’ll have me, for the rest of our lives, is a thought that has me aching for more of him.

For all of him.

There’s a boldness to me that wasn’t there before—carnal knowledge filling me with power, perhaps. But whatever it is, my hands go where they want, without fear, or without trepidation. I trace my fingers down his chest, plucking at the ties to his tunic until it opens deep down his muscled chest. The Nordic Viking tattoos on his chest and shoulders draw my eyes, and I coo softly as I trace them with a fingertip. I lean in to kiss his chest as my hands peel his tunic up his muscled abs, pulling away from him just long enough for him to tug the shirt off and throw it aside. And then I’m right back in his arms, moaning as he kisses me.

Tor’s hands find my belt, tugging it open easily and letting it drop. It barely hits the dirt when his fingers find the ties to my dress, and when he yanks it open eagerly, his eyes blazing and a growl in his throat, I moan as his eyes drink in my body.

“Beautiful,” he purrs in that accent I love. His hands skim over my body, sliding the dress from my shoulders and letting it drop before his fingers tease over my skin. He cups my full breasts, thumbs rolling my nipples as his lips tease my neck. My hands drop to his breeches, shaking as I pull at the ties there. I open them, taking a deep breath, and I boldly slide my hands into his breeches.

God he’s so big.

I gasp as my fingers brush over his swollen cock, trapped in the confines of his pants and throbbing to be free. He pulses against my hand, and when I curl my fingers around him, Tor groans in pleasure. I tug at his breeches, slipping them down over his muscled hips. His enormous cock springs free, bringing a gasp to my lips as it lands heavily in my hands. I moan, stroking him slowly and softly, feeling him swell even harder in my hands as he groans in pleasure.

“Just like that, little bird,” he growls, hissing as I stroke his thickness. “Gods do your hands feel good.”

“As good as my pussy?” I whisper, the very words making me even wetter as the heat sizzles through me.

“Nay,” he growls. “Nothing in this world is as sweet as your pretty little cunt.”

I wasn’t there, but I remember Catriona telling me a story about seeing one of her father’s banner men and the wife of another lord in the stables once. I remember her blushing as she told me about the woman dropping to her knees and… and putting her mouth on her lover’s cock. I blush fiercely, just like I did when she first told me the story. But suddenly, I get it. It’s an act I’ve never imagined before, but with Tor, it’s like I want to explore it all.