Enslaved by the Viking: A Medieval Short Story (2 page)

H
is men made
great merriment of tossing Konrad into the cool river and scrubbing the blood, dirt and sweat from his body and clothing in preparation of his wedding.

Less than an hour later, he strode through the streets, stripped clean of his old life and ready to begin his new one. He only hoped his comely bride would not end it before it began by slipping a knife into his throat as he slept. He would have to convince her that their union would be one of mutual benefit and pleasure.

His cock swelled at the promise of the pleasure. Yes, indeed, he would have the most beautiful, strong woman to be his bride and thus rule this land with the blessing of the people.

From experience, Konrad knew nothing was ever quite that simple. Based on his sore jaw from where Brigid had slapped him, he concluded it would not be boring. With a grin, he met Brigid in the village commons where a large gathering of people awaited the wedding ceremony.

Dressed in a deep green gown, her raven-black hair hanging long to her waist and a wreath of flowers crowning her head, Brigid stood in the middle of a group of women who brushed her hair and plucked at imaginary flecks of dirt.

The hand fasting ceremony happened so quickly, Konrad barely recalled the words of the priest conducting it. All he knew was that once it was done they would convene in the great hall for the feast and before the sun set, he and his bride would consummate their marriage.

Would the day never end?

His men sat at the head table laughing, drinking and toasting Konrad and his bride.

Brigid sat beside him, her head held high. She drank not a drop, nor did she eat. She stared straight ahead, watching over the women in her charge, her eyes narrowing when one of Konrad’s men became too amorous with the serving women.

After many toasts and much food had been consumed, Konrad turned to his wife. “Wife, it is time.”

She nodded, her face stripped of emotion.

Konrad had a huge task ahead of him to woo the beautiful Brigid over to his camp. All he needed was to be alone with her for the night to lay siege on her heart.

C
aitlinn
and three other women led Brigid out of the great hall and into the master’s chamber where they stripped her of her clothing and helped her into the bed.

She allowed them to do this, but asked that they bring in food and drink for she expected her husband would be hungry and thirsty through the night.

The women giggled and hurried away to her bidding. Caitlinn stayed. “If you are unhappy with your husband, I will help you to escape.”

Brigid shook her head. “This is my path to secure our future.”

She had her own way of dealing with the men that would use a woman like a mat and wipe their feet on her. Beneath the mattress lay the bag of herbs she’d unearthed from beneath the fairy tree. Once she and her new husband were left alone, she’d offer him a beverage laced with the sleeping herb. Then she would plot his demise and her liberation.

T
horsten
and five other men gave the ladies a few minutes head start before they hefted Konrad onto their shoulders and carried him up the stairs to the master chamber.

“Do you need instruction on how to bed the lady?” Thorsten asked. “I would be happy to show you where to jab your sword.”

“Perhaps she would prefer one of us to demonstrate the act first.” Another man pumped his hips to more laughter.

There was much teasing and jostling before Konrad finally reached the master chamber. The men threw open the door and marched him in, dropped him on his feet and ripped the clothes off his body. Then they lifted him yet again, dumping him on the bed already occupied by Brigid.

She lay with the furs fully covering her body, only her creamy white shoulders visible.

When Konrad landed beside her, she scooted over as far as she could, but the bed wasn’t that wide and he still lay against her. She’d drop off the bed if she leaned over any farther.

Konrad turned to his men. “Enough! Now out with you so that I can claim my bride in peace.”

“Not until we bear witness that this wedding has been consummated.”

“Out!” he bellowed.

The man grumbled, backing out.

“If you have difficulty getting it in…” Thorsten grinned from the doorway. “Just call out.”

Konrad lifted a candleholder and flung it.

Thorsten closed the door before it hit and clattered to the wooden floor.

Alone at last, he turned on his side and studied Brigid.

She stared at him for a moment, then rolled out from beneath the furs and stood, naked in the light filtering through the shuttered window. Her pale body glowed, the curves soft and flowing, her breasts even fuller than he’d imagined when he’d touched them through her bodice.

She crossed the room to a small table set against the wall laden with food and a pitcher of mead. “You must be thirsty after all the food.” As though she poured drinks while parading around the room naked all the time, she took her time performing the function and then turned to face him, giving him a full view of the prize for which he’d bargained.

From her long, raven hair down to the tips of her narrow feet, she was a vision of what Konrad presumed how a goddess would appear.

His cock sprang to attention, stiff and hard as his sword blade. His lips curved upward, his body tensing in anticipation of driving deep inside her.

She approached him with the cup of mead, carefully handing it to him with meek humility and care.

Konrad had not expected her to become so submissive and complacent about her new status so quickly. He’d fully expected to have to wrestle her into his bed that night and he couldn’t deny his disappointment. He liked that she had a fiery temper and a sharp tongue. He’d worried that settling down might dull his battle skills. With a woman like Brigid, his senses would remain alert.

“Here,” she said handing him the cup. “Drink to our union.”

“After you.” He refused to take the cup, giving preference to her, letting her know that he respected her and would treat her fairly.

She shook her head. “I do not want to dull my senses for what is to come.”

He liked that answer, considering the plans he had to ignite her senses. Taking the cup from her hands, he set it on the table beside the bed. “Lie with me, wife.”

Her eyes widened and she reached for the cup again. “I will after you have refreshed yourself with a drink. I fear once we get started, you will need the liquid to sustain you through the long night.”

“I will drink then.” Again, he took the cup from her and set it on the table, capturing her hand in the process. “Come, wife. To bed.” Then with a sharp tug, he landed her on top of him, her breasts pressed to his chest. “Right now I wish to show my wife how good marriage can be.”

She struggled to free her hands. “How can something be good, if you have to imprison me to accomplish it?”

“A wife must allow her husband the chance to prove to her he can make her appreciate the finer points of making love.” He rolled her to his side and released her hands. “You are free to go,” he said. When she scooted toward the edge of the bed, he added, “But our bargain states you are be my wife. And in that I expect you to be my wife in all ways or the contract is broken and I will choose a more willing woman.”

B
rigid froze
. The damn man would not drink his mead and now he threatened their contract if she did not consummate the marriage. Her sister’s beautiful face and the faces of the other women in her clan flashed before her. She couldn’t let them down.

Slowly, she lay back against the fur and closed her eyes. “Do with my body what you will. It is but a vessel. You will not win my heart or soul.”

For a long moment, nothing stirred on the bed. Then Konrad slid up next to her. The movement made her flinch, the heat from his body warming hers. “Is that a challenge, wife?” he whispered, his breath stirring the loose hairs around her ear.

She shivered, her body tensing at his nearness. “Not a challenge. The truth.”

“Challenge accepted.” His lips captured the lobe of her ear and pulled softly.

Brigid never realized how sensitive her ears were until that moment. A moan threatened to rise up her throat. She steeled herself for his assault.

When it came she was unprepared.

His lips brushed across her eyelids as soft as thistledown. Her belly tightened and her breasts ached. What was wrong with her body?

Weathered fingertips glided across her cheekbone and down the length of her neck scraping ever so lightly.

Her skin practically reached out to him to deepen the touch.

When he pressed his lips to hers, he demanded nothing, his tongue tracing the seam.

Her lips tingled so much she gasped, parting her teeth.

His tongue slipped between and caressed hers.

He tasted of sweet mead.

Curling as if of its own reflex, her tongue dueled with his, thrusting when he thrust and swirling in a desperate battle of wills, taking her mind off where his fingers went until they flicked the tip of a nipple.

She arched her back before she realized what she was doing. When he trapped the nipple between thumb and forefinger, a moan escaped her lips on a soft puff of air.

The man had yet to lie on her and poke her with is man staff, yet she was halfway to begging him to commence. Deep in her center blood stirred, flowing thick and hot, spreading fire to every inch of her body.

Where he was tweaking her nipple she could picture him taking it into his mouth and suckling until she cried out. His fingers only toyed with the tip until she thought she might scream.

“Get on with the bedding,” she hissed, impatient, frustrated and needy like she’d never been before.

“These things take patience.”

“Patience be damned.” She grabbed his hand from her nipple and cupped her breast with it, squeezing it tight enough to hurt a little, hoping that little bit of pain would bring her back from the insane edge upon which she teetered precariously.

His hand massaged her breast and moved to the other.

Brigid’s breathing grew more rapid and she twisted against the furs, even the soft furry friction causing her to squirm.

Konrad’s hand slid lower, skimming across her belly, ever closer to the center of her desire, that warm, wet channel aching to be filled. Rough fingers wove into her furry mound, parting her folds to slide across her center strip, flicking it gently.

Brigid dug her feet into the fur and lifted her hips, crying out. When he flicked again, her world shattered into a million tiny points of light, each prickling across every inch of her skin. Her hips rocked and she rode the sensation like waves crashing against the seashore.

At last she fell back to earth, that place between her legs wet and ready to receive her husband. He slipped a finger inside her and swirled in her juices. It wasn’t enough to satisfy her throbbing ache. She wanted more. No, she needed more or surely she would die.

She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him over her, parting her legs for him to settle between.

“No,” he whispered, capturing her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling. “Not until you are ready.”

“Do it!” Her fingertips dug into his hips, urging him to take her.

He resisted, his buttocks tight in her hands. “Only if it is what you want.”

“It is,” she said, her mind chaotic with feverish longing.

“Beg me and I will consider it.”

Past pride, past the stubborn need to control her world, Brigid cried, “Please. Take me.”

Konrad thrust into her, his cock stretching her channel so deliciously tight. When he bumped against her maidenhead, she winced, well beyond caring and willing to breach the pain to quench her thirst.

Konrad bent to kiss her swollen lips, his tongue pushing past her teeth as his man staff breached her barrier and filled her as only man can complete a woman.

As he moved in and out of her, she rose to meet him, matching his rhythm until he came to a shuttering stop, his body rigid, and his jaw taut as he shot his seed.

Brigid wrapped her legs around his waist and held him there, rejoicing in the newfound sensations so powerful they shook the very foundation of her world.

When at last he collapsed beside her, he pulled her into his arms and held her, his lips pressed to her temple, his hand cupping her breast.

Brigid felt she could die then and there, convinced she would never feel as incredible again. She reminded herself this strong and worthy warrior was her husband, the man who would protect her people. And she would have him in her bed for the rest of her life, doing those things he’d done to her that night. A warm glow of happiness threatened to make her giddy with delight.

“Making love is not so bad after all, is it?”

She lay in his arms, schooling her face to boredom when it was far from what she was feeling. “I can tolerate it.”

He chuckled. “Tolerate?” Konrad squeezed her breast and flicked the tip of her nipple.

Her back arched automatically, pressing her deeper into his palm.

“I suppose I could learn to like it,” she admitted. “With time.”

“I plan to be here for a very long time.” He rolled to his side and reached for the cup on the table beside the bed. “You were thoughtful to provide a drink. I find myself quite thirsty after bedding my beautiful wife.”

She lay in the heat of his regard, satiated and drowsy.

When Konrad lifted the cup to his lips, memory crawled out from the fog of lust and Brigid’s eyes widened. She flung herself across him, knocking the cup from his hand. It flew across the room, spilling its contents across the wooden floor.

“If you were thirsty, all you had to do was tell me. I would have let you drink first.” He laughed softly and pulled her into his arms. “Ah well, I can drink of my wife and slake my earthly thirst in the morning.”

Lying across the Viking, Brigid found she liked being on top of the mass of muscles and sinew. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad being married to the beast. She could always poison him later if she grew bored or tired of him. But for now, she would partake of what the marriage bed offered and enjoy it. Brigid slid her hand across her husband’s chest and down his belly to his hardening man staff. Ah, yes. She had use for such a Viking.

I
f you enjoyed
this short story, you might enjoy a much longer one in a book co-authored by Elle James and Delilah Devlin.