“If you’re harmed, or if anyone attempts to, I would never forgive myself. No one is getting close enough to you to try.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Nine
Inga watched Ivar run across the village green before storming into Lena’s longhouse. She seethed as she watched her husband return to his lover. The blessing may not have been done yet, but as far as she was concerned, their marriage began when their fathers signed the papers. The man owed his loyalty and devotion to her. The longer Ivar remained in Lena’s home, the more convinced Inga became that she would need to relieve herself of the competition.
“Inga, what are you doing standing out here. It’s getting cold.”
Inga turned around to the voice of a young man. Her attention riveted to his hazel eyes and the strong jawline. He could not have been much older than her at sixteen, but he had the body of a young warrior. Her nostrils flared as he approached, and she smelled fresh pine and soap.
“Who are you?” Inga whispered as the man came to stand so close that their toes touched.
“Einar.”
“Just Einar?”
“For now.”
“And what will I call you later?”
“Your lover.”
Inga gasped and stepped back. While it instantly attracted her to the young man, she had not expected him to be so brash so soon. She shook her head and took another step back.
“You are far too presumptuous. Why would I ever take you as a lover when I am wed to the jarl’s son? Who are you but a warrior and the son of a warrior?”
“I am a warrior, but my father is a farmer.” Einar grinned as he admitted his father’s social status was even lower than she had assumed. While it was not true, she did not need to know that yet. He would test her to see whether her attraction would outweigh her snobbery. “However, I am a man who has already heard about the things you enjoy, and I can offer that and far more to you. Your father’s men will leave, and that will leave you needy. Ivar will never fuck you the way you want. That leaves me.”
“Why? Is it because of my position? The power I will have?”
Einar stepped forward until he backed Inga into the shadows of the building. He bracketed her head with his forearms and leaned in so close to her ear, Inga wondered if he might kiss her neck.
“I don’t care about your power. You will have none until Soren dies, and he is a man in his prime. What I want is my cock inside you. What I want is to hear you call my name as I pleasure you. If what I can see with your clothes on is any hint to what you look like without them, then I will be the luckiest man in this tribe.”
“You want to take what is not yours. What belongs to the jarl’s heir. You are bold to approach me. How can you be sure I won’t run and tell Ivar or my father or even Jarl Soren?”
“Because I saw your reaction as I approached. I hear the way your breath hitches. I believe I can even smell your arousal. I would wager if I stuck my fingers in your sheath, I’ll find you’re already soaking wet for me. Would I be wrong?”
“No,” Inga breathed on a sigh. Her eyes darted around to ensure no one could see them. “Prove to me you are worth it.”
Einar captured her mouth in a punishing kiss, nipping at her bottom lip before swiping his tongue beyond her teeth. He pulled back long enough to demand, “Suck it.”
Inga was only too happy to oblige. As Einar’s tongue thrust forward again, she drew it further into her mouth, applying enough pressure that it should hurt. Einar pressed his arousal against her mons as he squeezed her breast without mercy. His other hand began raising her skirts as she struggled with the laces of his leather pants.
“My tongue is only a hint of what I will do to you tonight. You shall suck my cock later, but for now, I will drive it into your quim until you explode. You are mine, Inga.”
The forcefulness of his tone made Inga’s core ache. While she was a demanding young woman, she longed for a man who would dominate her. She had to pay guardsmen to couple with her the way she wanted. Even the roughest of warriors did not meet her needs. She suspected Einar might. Einar spun her around and pressed her breasts against the log wall of the storage building they ducked behind. He ran his hand over one of her bottom cheeks before digging his fingers into the meaty flesh. She had an ample backside, and he spread her cheeks wide.
“By the end of tonight, Inga, there will not be a part of you that isn’t mine.”
Einar grasped her hips and impaled her with his rod. What he was not about to admit was Inga was the first woman he ever joined with, that this was the first time anything more than his hand had pleasured his cock. He thrust over and over, pressing her against the building. His need for release driving him to a frenzy, testing the little control he had, but he refused to finish so fast that he embarrassed himself. He had sensed what Inga needed long before he approached her. She was a spoiled woman who needed a man to master her. She tested every man she came across, seeming to hope to find one who would rise to the challenge. Not only did he desire her, but he desired the power being her lover would bring. Being the lover of the future frú would grant him access and information he would not gain even with his brother Eindride being Ivar’s closest friend. The access he desired was to Lena. He would settle for Inga as his lover for now, but he would prove to Lena that he could satisfy her far better than Ivar ever could.
Inga moaned as Einar continued to push her body harder against the wall. Being trapped between the hard wall and the hard planes of Einar’s body excited her. When one of her moans was too loud, he wrapped his fingers around her threat and murmured beside her ear.
“Don’t make me silence you, Inga. No one can find out about this. Do you want me to stop?” He pulled out and grinned when she whimpered.
“No,” she pleaded.
