Ravish Her Completely (3 page)

“Help me,” she cried out, glancing over her shoulder again, and saw the beast barreling toward her. He had no shirt on, and wore only those leathers. He looked like a predator, and she was his prey. The way he stalked forward, an ax held in his hand, had her eyes widening and fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She turned and ran into the village a few more steps, but faltered when she saw several people stop what they were doing and stare at her. They wore clothing that was not of this time. The women had braids woven into their hair, and the men had longer hair and beards. They looked like the pictures she’d seen of Vikings and the villages in the Scandinavian area from centuries ago.

“I need help. That man,” she pointed behind her, saw the people look over her shoulder, and then saw their eyes widen. “He’s after me.” She switched it up to Norwegian, but they either didn’t understand her or didn’t care.

The women gathered the children, and the men ushered the females away, then stood their ground and held their swords and axes in front of them, as if on the defense. She spun around, saw the beast man coming at her, and felt the world tilt. Why wasn’t anyone helping her?

“Du tror du kana kjøre fra megoki, konna?” He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground. She tried to scream out, but he placed a hand over her mouth and stifled the sound. “Jeg er en rekker.” He stared at the villagers, and she heard the same word being shouted over and over again.

Dýr.

Agata could roughly, crudely translate that word, and knew that it meant “Beast”. She stared wide-eyed at this man that now held her, his hand still on her mouth.

“Ja konna. Jeg er
Dýr.”

The beast had claimed a wife, and Agata was right in the middle of the lion’s den.

Agata stared at the man, hating that he’d chained her up like some kind of animal, but supposed he was smart for doing it. She’d run if she had the chance, get far away from this barbarian and try to get back to her life.

God, how her boring, lonely life sounded like heaven right now. She looked down at the chain and wrapped her hand around it, giving it a tug. It was attached to the wall across from her, and wasn’t budging.

“I’m not a dog to be tied up, and I’m not your prisoner.” It had been a day since he’d dragged her away from that worthless village, filled with worthless people that wouldn’t even help a woman that was being kidnapped. The sun had risen, and she hadn’t slept more than a few hours, afraid of closing her eyes and not knowing what he’d do to her.

He hadn’t hurt her, but then again he kept her chained up, forced water down her throat, and spoke in harsh grunts in a language she wasn’t familiar with. They couldn’t even communicate, or at least he pretended he couldn’t understand her, and she sure as hell couldn’t understand what those villagers said. How was he supposed to have her comply with anything he wanted? He’d taken her, stored her away from the real world, and she had no clue how to get out of this.

He looked over at her, but then walked away and left the hut. She sat up straighter, tried to peer out the door, but he came back all too soon carrying two fish strung up on a line. She wrinkled her nose at the strong scent. They were clearly fresh, but they certainly had that fish smell going on with them.

He kept his gaze locked on her as he moved over to the wooden, chipped and scarred table pushed against the wall. He pulled it back so he could keep his eye on her, then started running a knife up the belly of the first fish. He did the same with the second, and ripped the insides out of the animals, tossing the remains into a wooden bucket.

She hadn’t spoken to him since, but he hadn’t said anything to her either. Maybe he preferred silence, but Agata wasn’t about to sit here and make this easy for him.

“I’m not going to be your wife. I’ll never give in to you willingly.”

He glanced up at her with just his eyes, his head still downcast, and his hands shoved up the belly of the fish.

She straightened her shoulders. “I won’t be your konna.” She used the word he’d said to her, called her. It meant wife, that much she knew. This language he spoke was similar to Norwegian, but it was its own dialect, confusing and thickly accented. She picked up on words here and there, when he spoke to her, but other than that she was in the dark. “Do you understand me?”

He continued to stare at her as he worked on the fish.

“No. Konna.” She pointed to herself and shook her head. He stepped away from the table, went over to the basin of water he kept by the fire, and after a few moments of cleaning his hands off he moved over to where she sat on the pallet. He was an intimidating man, and the sight of him easily put fear in her.

“Já.” He pointed to her. “Konna.” The way he said it, telling her that she was his wife, was said with so much force, so much pure, unadulterated determination, that for a second, just a moment, she believed him. How could she feel any kind of lust for this man, this heathen? Surely they were close to civilization. Agata could find help, maybe play along with him until his defenses were down. She could act like she wanted this, wanted him, and then she’d escape when he trusted her.

Looking around the hut, she tried to calm herself, tried to get in the mind frame that she’d need to be in if she was going to pull this off. This man was far from stupid, she could tell that by the way he watched her, took in every single movement she made, and appraised the situation. Nothing got by him, and she always felt his stare on her. He was a hunter, clearly, a madman that was living out in the middle of nowhere and living some kind of fantasy where he was a Viking or some shit.

But then what about that village? Was this a community that wanted to live primal, that wanted to have no modern comforts? This was all so strange and confusing. Agata thought about the last night she remembered, about the old woman, the words she’d said, and that potion Agata had drunk.

God, what if she had been transported somewhere? It seemed so ridiculous to even think about, but it made sense to a point. The woman had talked about the In-Between, another world. At the time Agata hadn’t thought anything of it, but what if…

He started speaking again, hoarse and clipped sounds.

“Okay.” She held her hands up, showing him she submitted, or at least she did on the outside. He gave a gruff nod, made this deep noise, and took a step closer to her. She tried to stay in place, tried not to move back, but his presence was intimidating.

The way he looked at her right now, stared at her face, then lowered his gaze to her breasts, told her this man wanted her, wanted her all. How could she possibly accept this, or at least pretend to?

****

Stian was still angry with this woman for running from him. Of course he knew it was normal for her to be afraid. He didn’t know where she came from, what she was called, or how she got here. But none of that mattered, because she was here now and his for the taking. He sat on the edge of the pallet, saw her tense and watch him warily, but she had conceded. She might speak a language foreign to him, but he understood her body, her submitting in the way all people did when they knew they would not be victorious. She was his wife, his
konna
, and she’d understand that right now.

He reached out, took a strand of her long blonde hair, and lifted it. The light from the sun and fire reflected off the honey colored locks. He leaned forward, kept his gaze on her, and saw her tense even further. He brought those strands to his nose and inhaled deeply. She smelled faintly sweet, and although she needed to bathe and get the dirt from her body, she was a gorgeous creature.

Stian knew she’d give him strong warrior sons because he could see the strength pouring from her. She needed to learn his language to better understand what he wanted from her, and to obey him.

He pointed to her chest. “Konna.”

She licked her lips and it took her a second, but she finally nodded. “Wife.”

He played the word in his head. “Wife,” he repeated. It sounded strange coming from his lips. “Wife. Konna.” He said both words, wanting her to say it, to live it.

She watched at him with these wide blue eyes, still frightened with him,
of
him. He looked into her eyes, and reached out to grab her hand. He placed it on his chest, and a shudder worked its way through him when her flesh touched his. Her hand was warm, much smaller than his, and it felt good on his bare skin. “Dýr.” He wanted her to know that he was a bear, a beast of a man. He’d been born this way, violent and aggressive, maybe a curse from the gods, but a monster nonetheless.

“Is that your name?” she said softly.

She was asking him something in this soft lilt, or so it seemed from the way she phrased it and watched him with this confusion on her expression. This language she spoke was a strange dialect, one not from this area. Was she from the seas, or dropped down from the gods for him alone? It seemed unlikely, as the gods had not looked down upon him favorably since the death of his parents.

“I’m Agata.” She took her hand off his chest, but he allowed her to. “Agata.” She placed her hand on her chest, and he realized she was telling him what she was called.

“Agata.” He played her name over and over in his head, said it out loud, and grew pleased with the way it sounded and made him feel.

She nodded after he said her name. “Yes, I’m Agata.”

“Stian.” He straightened, proud of who he was, despite the hatred and fear others thought of him in the village. “Stian.” He pounded on his chest with his fist.

“Stian,” she spoke softly again.

“Stian, já.”

She gave him a smile, and the sight had the male part of him rising up and wanting to take her right here. But he wouldn’t rut between her thighs like an animal, no matter how much he wanted to right now. He’d let her grow comfortable with him,
make
her comfortable with his touch, yearn for it even, before he slid his cock into her body.

He pushed her hand away, looking at the way her full breasts pressed against the strange looking clothing she wore. He picked at the fabric, felt the texture between his fingers, and wanted to tear it off.

“Lauga,” he said, needing her to be cleaned before he touched her in the way he wanted. He stood, looked down at her for a second, and let her look at the way she had his cock hard. Just looking at her, smelling her, had his shaft pressing uncomfortably tight against his leathers. Her eyes widened, and he grinned, knowing that she had to be frightened of his size.

Stian was a large man, a reason why he’d gotten the name “Beast” from the other villagers. His cock was no different in the size department. He’d need her stretched, primed and ready for when he took her for the first time.

But Stian had self-control, had patience, and he forced himself to move away. He collected the bathing supplies: basin, buckets of water, and cloth. They needed to clean, needed to eat, and then he’d lie with her, touch her, and make her crave him. He may have kept her for his own, clearly against her will, but he’d never take her sexually, never force himself into her. He wasn’t a good man. He was a warrior, a killer, and always took what he wanted. He’d raided, pillaged, and plundered after he’d been banished, and although he lived a somewhat solitary life anymore, he was still very much a warrior.

Once the water was heated and he had it in the basin, he faced her and gestured for her to come forward. “Agata, koma, konna.” He gestured for her to come to him. He would bathe her, see her nude form, and make her clean for him. Then they would eat, and he’d show her that although he was hardened he’d be gentle … he could be gentle.

She took a few moments to move off the pallet, but when she was close enough to him that he could touch her he crouched in front of her and removed the chain. From his knees he looked up at her, saw that she watched him hesitantly, withdrawn almost. She’d warm up to him, come to trust him and need him. She’d soon realize that he was the one that could provide for her, would always provide for her and keep her safe.

He slowly stood, kept his hands on her waist, and looked down at her mouth. Her lips were parted, red and slightly wet from when she licked them. Her white, little teeth started to tug at her bottom lip. He cupped her cheek, felt her body retreat slightly, but then something snapped in her eyes and she relaxed.

“This is freaking insane,” she said under her breath. She said in her strange language, almost as if she spoke to herself as she was not looking at him, and finally glanced at the basin. For a moment she just stared at it, then closed her eyes. He could see she was trying to build up her strength, and he couldn’t help but feel pride that
his
woman was strong.

“I don’t think we’re at that point in our relationship where I’m comfortable getting naked for you and letting you see my rolls.”

He watched her, let her speak her strange and foreign language, and started removing his clothing. Her eyes widened, and she moved back a step. He let her though, let her retreat this one small space. He removed his leathers and boots, tossed them aside, and stood before her naked. She looked at his chest, moved lower yet, and when she looked at his cock her eyes widened and her mouth parted.

“You’re uncut … and so hard.”

His dick jerked with every second she looked at him.

“God, you’re huge.” She slowly lifted her gaze to his face, and he watched as her pulse beat faster and harder at the base of her throat.

He shook his head slowly, reminding her that if she was speaking to him he couldn’t understand anything she said. He could have been crude and lewd, grabbing himself and stroking off until he came right in front of her. But he didn’t want to be a bastard. He wanted her to grow to want him, desire him, and because of that he’d have to channel his patience in all things when it came to his new, young wife.

He held his hand out, and she eyed it. She shook her head, lowered her gaze to the ground, mouthed something soft and low, and his annoyance over her reluctance grew. But when she exhaled roughly and moved closer, he made himself calm. She placed a hand in his, and he pulled her closer. Tonight they’d bathe together as husband and wife, even if it wasn’t an officiated union. She was his. He wasn’t letting her go, and for Stian that was all he needed to have his claim on her.