Mastered By the Viking King by Lily Harlem

Chapter 11

Aweek had passed since Tove had married King Njal and become his queen. After the spanking for touching the dragon box she’d managed to avoid another by being careful to obey his instructions and demands.

But that hadn’t meant their conversations about Halsgrof—and the people there—had been without debate. They bounced ideas off one another, enjoying the way their minds thought differently. Tove came up with an idea to create another pier so that the existing one wasn’t so crowded with longboats. Njal was keen to learn about her farming experience, and why the grains had spoiled.

She was surprised to learn he had sent willing villagers across the ocean to Wessex two summers previously. His travels there had led to a deal with King Egbert to farm some of his land—good fertile land, better than the fields around Halsgrof.

“And they have harvested?” she asked.

“Aye, they should have by now. Their days are warmer and longer in England, and a freeze comes later. I am looking forward to hearing how they have stocked. It is why I am anxious for my brother to return with news.”

She took his hand. “What will you do if he does not?”

He looked at her steadily. “I will take Viking warriors to Wessex and search for him.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Will you take me?”

“No, my love.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Because I wish you to soon be with child. You might be already. It would not do to have you at sea when you have my baby in your belly.”

She rubbed her stomach. She didn’t feel pregnant, but she hoped she would fall with child sooner rather than later. The prospect of carrying Njal’s third son filled her with happiness.

“King Njal.” Halfdan entered the Great Hall. “I have news from the boat maker.”

“Sune?”

“Aye, my king. He has nearly completed your new longboat. He wishes for you to inspect it.”

“At his boatshed?”

“No.” Halfdan shook his head. “It is moored at the pier.”

Njal stood, a grin spreading. “We will go at once. The queen and I are anxious to see this great longboat.” He grabbed her new cloak, a beautiful red fur complete with lined hood and ornate silver clasp.

She stood, and he wrapped it around her shoulders, fastening it snugly. “I am excited for you to see this longboat. Sune is a master at his craft. When it is ready for the ocean, we will make a sacrifice to Njord, the god of the wind and the sea, to ensure it stays on the path of its fate—even in storms and high waves.”

Tove was caught up in her husband’s excitement as they strode through the town together, cloaks wafting behind them. Townsfolk smiled and nodded, stepping out of their way. Tove noticed a few curious looks; she was still a new queen, and they were getting used to her.

A horn blew, signaling the king and queen were arriving at the pier. Njal wrapped his arm around her waist as they stepped to the end.

A beautiful longboat with towering dragonheads and a gleaming oak hull bobbed against the pier. The masthead reached into the heavy, dark clouds with a red flag whipping from the end. The sail was strapped tight, and shields lined the sides of the boat, above the oar holes.

Sune sat on the end, one leg over the side as he ran his woodworking plane down the rail one last time, blowing away the curling shavings.

“You have done it!” King Njal said.

Sune looked up, and when he saw the king he smiled and leaped to the pier, plane in his hand. “It is nearly complete. I await an anchor from Erik, and then she is seaworthy.”

King Njal jumped aboard, then held out his hand to help Tove onto it.

For the first time in her life, she stepped onto a royal longboat. A thrill went through her. How her fortune had changed.

She stared around in awe. “It is a thing of beauty.”

Sune beamed at her. “Thank you, my queen.”

“You have a gift from the gods,” she said.

“I am blessed in many ways.” He bowed low. “Most of all to have such a wise queen.”

Tove understood what he was referring to. “I trust your wife Ysar is a happy woman now?”

“Oh, aye,” he smiled. “I keep her satisfied and provided for. That way I have a quiet life. Happy wife, happy life… eh.”

Tove smiled. “And Astrid? How is she faring?”

“I believe she is well. I send coins with her sister, and I look forward to teaching her son to be a boat builder.”

“You are a good man.” Njal gripped his shoulder. “And this is a fine longboat, the biggest yet.”

“Aye, my king. It will take fifty warriors, plus supplies. You will easily journey to Wessex upon her.”

“That is good, because I may have to go very soon.”

Sune’s brow creased. “The weather has turned. Winter is upon us.”

“Winter will not stop me searching for my younger brother.” Njal banged his chest. “It is my duty to him, and to our dead father and mother.”

“Aye, I agree, but…” Sune stared out at the slate-gray fjord. Wind whipped over its surface, creating small, dancing twisters that sparkled with snow.

“But nothing.” Irritation laced Njal’s tone. “Indeed, when will the anchor be ready?”

“In two days, my king.”

“Good, then it is settled.” He leaped up to the front masthead and circled it with one arm. He hung outward over the water. “My people, my warriors! In two days, we will travel west to search for Leif and his men. They should have returned to Halsgrof during the last moon. It is our duty to find them.”

There was a moment of suspended silence, as if time itself had been frozen, while the king’s words settled on the crowd. Then a huge cheer went up. Warriors slapped each other on the back, the excitement of travel drawing whoops of delight. A horn sounded, dogs barked, and Njal punched the air, the fur on his cloak shivering in the wind. “May the gods be with us!”

Tove buried her hands in her clothing, searching for warmth. Her father would never have ventured out in such seas, but his boat had been a lowly fisher boat that sprang leaks often. Nothing like this royal vessel.

She looked at Sune. Unlike the other faces on the crowded pier, he wasn’t smiling. Instead, he appeared worried.

“Tonight, people of Halsgrof,” Njal called out, “we will feast. I wish my warriors to be well fed and rested before the journey.”

Another cheer boomed through the crowd.

Njal jumped down and scooped Tove into his arms, spinning her around beneath the mast. “I feel better already. I have made a decision to find Leif. And I will.”

She gripped his shoulders. “I believe you. You are a mighty king and a brave seafarer.”

He caught her mouth in a kiss, his tongue sneaking in.

She closed her eyes and sighed. No matter how cold it was beside the fjord, if she was in his arms she was warm.

But that didn’t stop a small chill of dread going through her heart. If Leif had set sail and not returned, the same fate could befall her husband. How would she live without him? How could she even breathe if not at his side?

* * *

When the sky was thick with stars and the snow had finally stopped falling, the feast began.

The long tables were stacked with fruits, pickles, smoked fish, and bread. Four goats had been butchered, their meat cooking over wide grates amid dancing flames. Mead flowed into horns, and the villagers jostled and laughed, dragging chairs and benches around so they could sit and conduct loud, raucous conversations.

Tove sat beside Njal on her throne. Knud and Frode were on small stools between them, eating and discussing the sagas of the gods.

A plate of food had been passed to her, and she nibbled at it, enjoying the different flavors. It was a still a novelty to be without a painfully empty belly, though one hunger had been replaced by another.

Now, she hungered for her husband—his body, his kisses, his cock. They made love at sunset each day, then often again in the night. She looked forward to their sexing—he never left her unsatisfied—and when they were naked together, she loved having him buried deep inside her, until she had no other worries in the world.

A willow flute rang out, an older Viking warrior with a long gray beard whistling a loud and happy tune. The feasters clapped along, grinning even as they continued shoveling food into their mouths. A horn joined in the tune, several people stamping along with it.

“They are excited,” Njal said. “For the journey west.”

She nodded.

“What is the matter?” He frowned at her.

“It’s just…” She knew she should be strong; she was the queen, after all.

“Speak.”

“I am fearful for you.” She paused. “I cannot imagine a life without you.”

He chewed upon on a hunk of bread, tearing it with his teeth, then stood. “You will not have a life without me.”

“But it is dangerous out there. You are fearful for Leif as I am for you.”

He gripped her wrist and tugged her up. He didn’t stop when she got to her feet. He kept on lifting her until her eyes were level with his, her legs dangling above the ground. “You will not lose me.”

“That is my greatest worry.”

He looked down at his sons. “Wait here, with Wanda.”

“Aye, Father.”

Njal stepped down from the platform, still holding her close. He stomped past the willow fluter and a fire cooking another chunk of meat.

“What… what are you doing?”

“I am banishing your worries,” he said, kicking the curtain to their private dwelling aside. “The best way I know how.”

“Oh… I…”

He dropped her on the bed. “Remove your clothes.”

He was tearing at his already, shoving free of his tunic, belt, boots, and pants.

Tove was quick to do the same, dropping her fine new clothes to the floor without a care for them at all. Her crown landed on top of the pile.

Within seconds, they were both naked. He was hard, and his eyes brimmed with need. “My beautiful little queen,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Open your legs for me, let me into your body.”

He crawled over her and she spread her thighs, looping her hands around his neck.

His cock nudged at her entrance. She was already wet for him, and he drove in, riding to full depth on the first thrust.

She cried out and buried her face against his skin. “Oh, my king.”

“Aye, squeeze my cock like that.” He groaned.

Her cunny clenched around him and she rubbed onto his body, stimulating her sweet spot.

Another groan tore from him, and he half pulled out, then slammed back in.

“Njal,” she gasped.

“Like this…”

Suddenly, she was turning, rising up. He’d rolled to his side, dragging her with him. She was still impaled on his cock.

“Ride me.” He urged her to sit, her legs folded on either side of his body. “Ride me a like a horse.”

“A stallion,” she gasped, adjusting to the new sensation of sitting down fully upon his hardness.

“Aye, a stallion.” He gripped her hips and encouraged her to move. “Move on me.”

Her sweet spot rubbed against his wiry pubic hair and solid body. It made sense, this position. She arched her back and gripped his hands. Her hips seemed to take on a life of their own as she ground against him, stimulating her with every movement.

“In the name of Odin,” he gasped. “You are a beautiful queen.”

“Oh, Njal… I’m…” The pressure was building so fast. Yet, she was in complete control. She sped up, loving how it was looming before her. The release was going to be intense and breath-stealing.

He freed her hips and clasped his hands over her breasts. She added hers over the top, gripping him tight.

Her plait swung against her back, her cunny leaking arousal. His cock was so deep, so thick, and it filled her absolutely.

“Ah, oh, it’s…!” She could hear their pubic hair meshing, strands scratching against strands.

He let out a strangled cry and shot forward, releasing her breasts, clasping her chest to his. He found her mouth in a wild, primitive kiss.

Tove fisted his hair, dragging on the roots, her release so near. She couldn’t stop; if she did, she’d surely die.

She ground and bounced her way to climax. In his big arms, she was safe to let it all go. He’d catch her—always.

It was almost there, the pressure as much as she could contain.

He slid his hand down her back, to the spread cleft of her buttocks. The sensation of his finger sliding over her anus finally spiraled her into orgasm.

She cried out, the sound lodging in his mouth as he pushed his finger up her asshole.

A spinning sensation lifted her into ecstasy. Her muscles clamped around him, her clit pulsing through swift, sharp shots of bliss.

His finger plundered deeper into her ass, then a new wave of release claimed her as he shot his seed deep inside her.

Still, they kissed, lips and tongues gliding around heavy, hot breaths.

Somewhere in her mind, she was shocked that he’d fingered her ass, but it felt so good she simply went with it, shaking and jerking through her orgasm.

A moan tore from his throat. His arms were tight as vines around her torso.

She released his hair and held his cheeks, his beard filling her fingers. “Njal…”

“My queen… you ride… well.” He pulled back and chuckled, his cheeks flushed, his lips wet from their kisses.

“My king… you have… your… finger in my… ass.”

A wicked smile spread wide. “So I do.” He wriggled it.

“Oh, for the love of Freya!” Her eyes fluttered closed.

That really shouldn’t feel so good.

But her cunny was still contracting through the aftershocks of her climax, and he was sending new waves of bliss through her pelvis.

“I will put my cock in this tight ass,” he said. “When you have been with child.”

Her mouth fell open. Now that she knew how big his cock was, she knew it would never fit there. His finger was big enough.

“You’ll be begging for it.” He chuckled and withdrew from her ass, dragging her down so she was lying on top of him. He cupped her ass cheeks. “Was I not wrong when I said you’d be begging for my cock? For sex?”

“No, my wise husband, you were not wrong.” She pushed fears of his cock pushing into her asshole aside. She had yet to fall with child.

Thateventuality was still a long way off.

Right now, she had more immediate worries, and as she nestled into his neck to wait for her heart rate to settle, she tried not to think of him venturing into a wild winter sea.