Steinn – Lily Harlem

Steinn tightened the embossed leather band around his head—a safe passage gift from his father many years ago—and gripped the hilt of his iron sword. Despite wanting to spring into action, take what was rightfully his, he remained rooted to the ground and watched… Her. His new Pict bride. At this moment she was marching through the village of Achnaryrie and reminding him of a winter storm in the Northlands. She was frosty like a biting wind, and words rattled from her tongue as though they were hailstones. Her glares were icy, including the one she’d given him during their nuptials. Still, for the love of Odin, she was a cute little wench. With an upturned nose, eyes the colour and shape of exotic nuts he’d come across on his travels, and hair so black it had the bloom of a bruised damson when the sun caught it. She was lithe and strong, too, her skirt catching on her legs and arse as she moved. He’d caught a glimpse of her full breasts when she’d unlaced the front of her gown just before the ceremony and then re-tightened it. She’d seen him looking. So he’d smiled, licking his lips and imagining the taste of her honeyed flesh on his tongue. Yet it was her tongue he’d seen. She’d poked it out then turned her back on him. Possibly the sweetest rebuke he’d ever had.

If he were honest, his cock had swollen against his trousers—not enough to hinder walking to the wedding ceremony, but enough to have to adjust himself. Of course, at that moment in time, she could poke out her tongue, turn away, rebuke him all she wanted. But not now. Now she was his. His wife. His first wife. His last wife. Steinn only intended to marry once. The way his parents had. Theirs was a solid love, one that deserved great respect and had shown him the way—his mother obeyed, his father protected and provided.

And this was how it would be between him and Gladys. Jarl Brandr had made this bold decision for his men and these women, and Steinn was happy to go along with it. More than happy, for many years at sea—since he’d been only fourteen summers—had given him a yearning for a soft female in his bed. One who would mate with him morn, noon, and night and in the winter spend many days under furs with him, naked, and doing all of the things he’d dreamed of doing with a woman of his own. Stepping into a small goat pen, Gladys hoisted up the front of her bridal outfit—a grey woollen affair that didn’t appear to have one stitch or thread of love in it. Not that it bothered Steinn, it just made her all the more radiant. In fact, if she wore a princess’s gown, it would be dull compared to her beauty. He pulled in a deep breath and looked around the village. A feast was being prepared, to celebrate the union of Vikings and these Pict women. And what a feast it would be.

What a celebration. His stomach rumbled at the thought of the pigs and goats that were being bled ready for cooking. And he longed for mead to wet his throat. This would be a good land to settle, once they got the neighbours under control. Gladys ducked into a chicken coop, appeared to collect eggs, then after stepping over the fence again, she stomped into her house. Our house. When she disappeared from view, he could have sworn on Thor’s balls that the ground stopped trembling beneath her heavy footfall. He chuckled. For a slip of a thing, she certainly made her presence known. Dragging in a breath and ignoring the hunger in his belly, he headed for his new home.

The roof could do with some repairs, as could the small hut his wife kept goats in. But that would only be a day’s work, and with a woman to bed down with at sun-fall, it would be a happy day with a happy end. Just as he reached the entrance to the house, the heavy piece of oak that was the sturdy door came within an inch of his nose, and the slam of wood on wood rattled through his brain. He stepped backwards, pleased it hadn’t given him a snout like a pig, and stared at a gnarled knot on the surface. Haps she hadn’t known he was there, about to step over the threshold of the marital dwelling for the first time. Maybe she was so busy and excited about being bedded by him she wasn’t thinking straight. Ja, that was it. And who could blame her. He raised his right foot and kicked the door open. It whacked against the wall, and when it tried to bounce back he stopped it with his flattened palm.

The dwelling was dark, with just one hatched window and a fading fire. “Get out of here, you barbarian.” His wife’s steel-laden voice told him of her whereabouts. He ventured farther in, his eyes adjusting to the dark. And just as well, because right in front of him, in midair, was a clay pot. It wasn’t moving, it was just getting bigger. Which could only mean one thing: it was heading his way on a direct course. He ducked to the right, and it skittered off the door and disappeared outside. “What are you doing, woman?” “You heard me. You have ears, big ugly ears, now get out before I kill you.

” He laughed. “My mother always said I had big ears, too.” He plucked the left one. “But I’m attached to them, so you’ll have to get used them, wife.” He took one more step in. Another pot headed his way. Again, he dodged it. This one bounced on the wall then rattled onto the hard floor. “Wife, stop that.” “Not until you leave or I kill you.

” “Stop saying that.” He walked up to the fire. “We are husband and wife now, I will not have talk of killing one another. The gods have seen us bound for life, as was their plan for our destinies.” “It might have been their plan, but it wasn’t mine.” She backed away from him, towards a darkened corner that held a thick straw mattress and a jumble of furs and woollen blankets. “And I never agreed to it.” “Of course you did.” He released his belt. “I heard you say the words with these big ears of mine.

” Again he laughed, thinking she might join in. She didn’t. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Removing my belt.” “Why?” She waggled her finger at him. “No, don’t tell me, I know why. You want to consummate our marriage. Well, I’ll tell you a thing or two about that—” “Woman, my sword, axe, and dagger are heavy. I wish to remove them when I am relaxing in my new dwelling.” Her mouth hung open as he set his belt and weapons on a barrel turned on its end.

“And what a home. Needs some repairs, but it’s good and solid.” He placed his hands on his hips and glanced around. “Been up for a few years.” It wasn’t a question, but she replied anyway. “Aye, ten. My husband built it.” “Your first husband, your dead husband.” “Aye.” “Well, he’s not here, I am now.

You must forget about him and everything you had and did together. He is dead, and I am alive.” “His name was Angus.” She looked away. “And I loved him very much. How can I just forget him?” Steinn frowned. He’d been insensitive. He could be sometimes, so his mother had said when she’d smacked him around the head for it. “Ah, on behalf of all the gods, I didn’t mean nothing by it, didn’t want to upset you.” He paused.

“Just telling you how it is now.” She turned her back on him and lowered her head. “Gladys.” She didn’t reply. Steinn nibbled on his bottom lip and let his gaze roam her body. From her slender shoulders, neat waist, and curved behind, he liked what he saw. He reckoned he’d like it even more without the hindrance of clothing. He reached over his left shoulder and fisted his woollen sweater. He dragged it over his head and tossed it down next to his belt. His heart rate picked up as the cool air washed over his torso, and he thought of her soft breasts pressed against his chest.

He could hardly wait to feel her nipples on his tongue, in his mouth, between his teeth. And as for her cunny… He’d bet she was warm, wet and tight, just as a wife should be. And if it had been some time since she’d been with a man, all the better. He might even be able to pretend she was a maiden. A strange noise gurgled from her throat. “What are you doing?” he asked, toeing off first his right then his left boot. She didn’t answer. He smiled. Haps she’d become shy during her barren, husbandless years. No fear.

He’d soon get rid of that emotion, and he’d even sooner remind her how much fun mating was. “Take off your gown,” he said, peeling down his leather trousers. “No.” He removed the last of his clothing. His cock was thick and heavy and fully erect. “Ah, you want me to do that for you.” “No, I—” “I understand.” He glanced at the table to his right. On it were the eggs she’d collected in a small basket. He lifted it to the floor then wiped his forearm over the surface, removing a few crumbs.

It would do nicely. “I know what you need, wife.” “Do not call me that.” He hesitated. “I can call you Gladys if you prefer.” “It is my name.” He smiled and stepped up behind her, gripped her waist, and pulled her to him. His cock jutted into her lower back, and her head slotted beneath his chin. She gasped and stilled. But only for a moment, because then she wriggled within his hold.

“You like what you feel, huh?” he asked against her ear. “Get off, get off me.” She tried to lunge from his grip. Steinn chuckled. She was feisty, a little whirlwind of energy. He couldn’t wait to get inside all of that wildness and feel it gripping his cock. “I want you to—” “I know what you want, Gladys. I know what you need.” G 2 ladys snatched in a breath as Steinn spun her to face the room. His firm grip, big hands, and huge body behind her were no match to her female muscles.

The table was in front of her. The one Angus had made as a gift on their wedding day. The legs were sturdy and the surface dipped and worn with use. Steinn tipped her forward, fast and unexpectedly, and she slapped her hands down on the wood. She was lodged at a ninety-degree angle. “What are you doing, you beast?” She twisted to look at him. Caught a glimpse of his naked torso, and after feeling a dense wedge of flesh jutting onto her back, knew exactly what he was planning on doing. “You know full well our marriage must be consummated, Gladys.” “I demand you let me go.” “I will do no such thing.

” He leaned over her, his broad chest spreading on her back and his weight trapping her against the table. “I want you. Now.” “I have no wish to consummate a marriage I didn’t want.” He stilled for a moment. “But you did want it.” “No, no I didn’t.” Was she finally getting through his thick skull to his dim brain? Again he hesitated. “You said the words before your god, before everyone. They were promises.

” He lifted up slightly, though he remained holding her in place on the table with the flat of his hands. “And that makes you mine. Mine to protect, care for, discipline, and fuck.” “No. I don’t want any of that.” She flung back her head, hoping to catch his face with her crown. She was in luck and felt a satisfying throb race over her skull as it connected. He yelped. “Woman. Stop that.

” “No, I want…” “That hit my nose.” “Good.” She tried to push up but could go nowhere. He’d folded his arm over her back, a pincer-like grip squashing her onto the table. “I know what you want, and you’ll get it,” he said, a little breathlessly and with excitement and determination lacing his tone. He dragged at her gown. The hateful old thing she’d worn for her miserable wedding ceremony. She’d hoped Steinn would see her in it, hate it, and decide she wasn’t the wife for him. No such luck. “Don’t you dare pull up my gown,” she snarled.

Air washed over her bare lower legs. “I demand—” “I demand you shut up, Gladys.” “No, I…” Her words were cut short by a rag being shoved between her teeth. As if bending her over, raising her skirts, and about to…do what he intended on doing wasn’t bad enough, he’d filled her mouth up to stop her protests. I’ll kill him for this. He was yanking at her gown again, pulling the heavy material up, up higher, jamming it into the hollow of her back until her bare buttocks were exposed. His naked body was hot against hers, like sitting beside a fire, the Devil’s fire. Using his foot, he kicked her legs apart, and her pussy was exposed. She was open, vulnerable, a plaything for him. And she knew damn well he was going to play his hideous game.

“You have a great arse, wife.” He smoothed his palm over first her right buttock, then the left, the work-worn ridges on his skin catching on her soft flesh. “Better than I dared hope when I saw you first.” Gladys whimpered and stared out of the open window to the green fields beyond. She was relieved no villagers were there to witness her held hostage for the pleasure of an ugly barbarian. “And skin so pale,” he went on, still caressing her. “Which I’m sure will pink nicely if you require a spank. Oh…now I think of it, that hit on my nose…” A hard thwack landed on her arse The sting of heat raced over her flesh. She spat the rag from her mouth and jerked forward. “Stop that, you brute.

” Another slap, then another. He landed four on each buttock while he held her down. All hard and fast and making her burn with humiliation and anger. Angus had never spanked her. Had never had need to. They’d worked out any differences like adults, not animals. “Ja,” Stein said, caressing her arse again. “You do pink up nicely.” “How dare you spank me?” “I do not require bravery to spank my wife,” he said, leaning forward and speaking into her ear. “For you are mine.

Can’t you tell?” “I don’t…mmmph.” He’d rammed the rag back into place. More securely this time. She had to concentrate for a moment to stop it going too near the back of her tongue and gagging. Her eyes watered. “That’s it, you keep still and quiet and think about why you deserved that spank. Though it was not harsh, for this is us getting to know each other, as husband and wife.” She shouted around the rag. Told him in no uncertain terms she’d never view him as her husband. But comprehensible words didn’t come out.

He made a strange growling sound and slipped his fingers down the cleft of her buttocks, over her rear hole and to her pussy. She tensed. Being touched there was alien after so long abstaining from sex. “Are you wet for me?” he asked, pushing two fingers into her. “Ah, you are…a little. Good, we can work with that.” She screwed up her eyes and gritted her teeth on the rag so hard her jaw ached. Her pussy tightened around his invasion, and she curled her toes in her boots. “You have never been fucked by a Viking.” She wriggled and tried to escape him.

He’d pushed in deeper, his knuckles shoving up against her pussy lips. “I know that,” he said, “because your cunny is tight, it grips me. Had you taken a big Viking cock, that would not be the case.” He laughed. “Men from your lands have worm cocks.” Gladys threw her head back again, wishing it had made contact with his. It didn’t; he was standing upright. She raged onto the material in her mouth. Tried to draw her legs together but was prevented by his foot and leg. Suddenly he stilled.

“Sorry, was that insensitive? I’m sure your Angus was…” His words tailed off. “Never mind.” She hated to hear her real husband’s name on this ogre’s lips. “Keep still,” he said, withdrawing his fingers from her. “It is time to consummate.” His cockhead nudged her entrance. Impossibly wide and hard, he pushed forward, parting her delicate flesh. She thrashed and bucked, putting all her energy and muscle into escaping. “I can tell you enjoy a good hard mating,” he said. “You are excited for it.

You want to feel me, all of me.” “Mmmph!” She yelled through the rag. Every curse word she could think of rattled around her brain. “I am also excited, wife.” In one wild plundering lunge, he thrust to full depth. The cramming in of his cock was raw, intense, and filled Gladys until she was sure she’d burst. Her eyes watered, her breath caught in her chest—a great big bubble of shock—and her pussy struggled to take his huge shaft. “Ah yeah, thanks be to the gods because you make me think of Valhalla.” His balls pressed up against her, his lower abdomen a solid wall on her tingling buttocks. She arched her back and tried to dislodge him.

It was to no avail. “Wife, you can see now how well we fit together.” He gripped her hair, catching it in a rough ponytail, and dragged her head back. At the same time, he half withdrew then shunted into her again. The breath huffed from her lungs, billowing into the rag and snorting down her nostrils. He repeated the action, his flesh slapping onto hers. “Aw wife…we are…going to…have so much…fun together.” He punctuated his words with thrusts. “People will be…jealous of…our love and…devotion. Wish they had…sex fun…like we do.

” Gladys was sure not one single person would think that, and if they did she’d put them straight. Steinn was a big brutish bully and not the sharpest dagger she’d ever come across either. “You love it,” he said, “your pussy is hugging me.” She continued to moan her complaints as he shunted into her. She was well and truly trapped and being well and truly screwed. The pounding went on and on, her nub rubbing on the table. Her breasts now lifted off it because of the arch in her back—it was that or lose her hair by the roots he was holding it so tight. Much to her annoyance, her nub swelled and then throbbed. A pressure was building, a pressure she remembered from her time with Angus. Please, no.

Not with this monster. Not that. More tears welled. Her body was betraying her. There was no doubt about it, this was starting to feel nice, more than nice. His cock was rubbing a place inside her she hadn’t even known existed. Her pussy was really wet now, soft noises filling the air as well as her scent. “Find your pleasure,” he said gruffly. “I won’t release until you have my love…that is how it will be for us…now and always. I am not a selfish lover.

.

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