Mastered By the Viking King by Lily Harlem

Chapter 5

Tove’s new husband strode to the doors and flung them open, the gale whistling inside.

“Wanda!” he yelled into the storm. “Wanda!”

He slammed the door and marched out.

Tove studied the remnants of the feast spread out on a long table. The fires would need tending soon. Perhaps she should do it.

But before she had time to reach the first log, the door pulled open again, and Wanda appeared. Her hood was peppered with snowflakes and her hands buried in her cloak. “My queen.” She closed the door.

“Wanda, I should tend the flames.”

“No, that is not your job.” She pushed down her hood. “I will do that, but first…”

“First what?”

Wanda took Tove’s hands. Her skin was cool. “The king has requested something of me.”

Tove tipped her head. “He has?”

“Aye, he has told me to prepare you for bedding.”

“Bedding?”

“It is your wedding night. He wishes to claim you.”

“Oh…” A rush of nerves curled in her belly. Her thighs tensed, as did her buttocks, the skin there tingling.

“Sweet girl.” Wanda cupped her cheek. “You may be our queen, but you are also untouched. Am I right?”

Tove nodded. “I have been living alone with my mother. Of course I am untouched.”

“But not for much longer.” She took Tove’s hand. “Come this way, the king’s quarters are at the rear of the Great Hall. We have no need to venture outside to get to them.”

Tove followed behind her new maid, past a long trough that held glowing embers, a pot hanging over a fire, and a cask of mead. A chicken scratched in a corner, hunting for dropped morsels.

Wanda drew back a heavy, dark curtain.

Another big room was revealed. Furs lined the floor, another thin trough held smoldering logs, and candles shimmered, their flames dancing with the shadows on the timber walls.

Dominating the room was a big bed strewn with more furs. The huge wooden ends of the bed were carved with elaborate designs. To the right was a long piece of furniture crowded with treasures—brooches, amulets, pins, and silver coins.

“This is where you will live now,” Wanda said. “It is a grand room, don’t you think?”

“Aye, it is beautiful. Warm, too.”

“It is always warm for the king and queen.” She pointed behind Tove. “You can weave there, and when you have bairns of your own, they will sleep behind this curtain.” She revealed a small cubbyhole with a cot.

Tove suddenly remembered something. “The king’s sons. Where are they?”

“Since the first queen was banished, they have been with his sister, Helga.”

“I see.” She paused. “When will I meet them?”

“Soon. The king wants them to spend time with their new mother.”

“Me…”

“Aye, Tove, you.” She urged her to the bed. “Come, we do not want to keep King Njal waiting when he returns.”

“No, we don’t. I don’t.”

“You must remove your clothing.” Wanda pointed at the crown. “And I can help you with everything but the crown. Unless the king is here, you and you alone must remove your crown.”

“Aye, I understand.” She took it off, handing the heavy, bejeweled crown to Wanda.

Carefully, Wanda placed it on the treasure table, alongside a box with a dragon’s head clasp.

“Turn,” Wanda said. “And I will release the lacing on your tunic.”

Tove spun around, her gaze now on the bed. That was where she would offer her body to her new husband. On the silver furs she’d spread her legs and take his cock.

A new wave of nerves took hold, and she sucked in a breath.

“Do not be afraid,” Wanda said, working swiftly. “Sex is a great passer of time, especially in the long winter months. I do not know what I would do without my Erik.”

“A passer of time?” Tove spun around. Was that how Wanda saw it?

Wanda laughed. “Oh, your face, my queen. It is a sight.”

“But… but doesn’t it hurt? How can pain be a great passer of time?”

“Hurt?” Her smile fell, and she undid the top laces on Tove’s tunic. “Aye, it might, the first time.”

“Might? It will—a lot. Have you seen how big King Njal is? I’m sure his cock is just as huge.”

“It has been said that it is.” Wanda reached for the base of the tunic and lifted it over Tove’s head. Tove put her arms up as the material was lifted.

“So, I am right,” Tove said when she stood in just her smock. “It will pain me. I must prepare myself for torment.”

“No, you must prepare yourself to relax when he puts his cock inside you. And you must try and enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it? How will that help?”

“If you enjoy it, your cunny will become slick for him.”

“Slick?”

“Wet, like a waterfall. It will make his journey deep into your womanhood much easier. It is Freya’s way for us women.”

Wanda pulled the tunic off, then stooped to remove Tove’s boots. When she’d done that, she stood back up and surveyed Tove. “There, now you are ready.”

Tove looked down at her nakedness. Her small breasts were pert, the nipples tight peaks, the light brown hair at the juncture of her thighs thick, and her flesh pale.

She ran her palms over her tender behind. “I thank you, Wanda, for your kindness today.”

“I will always be here for you, my queen. I am not your mother, and may the gods protect the queen’s mother always, but I will act as caregiver, and guide when I can.”

“Thank you.” Tove beat down a rush of emotion. She would have liked her mother at her side, today of all days. Her father, too, to see her become queen.

Wanda smiled and set about stacking logs in the fire trough. When she’d finished, she straightened and faced the curtain leading to the Great Hall. “The king has returned.”

Tove sucked in a breath and clasped her hands in front of her pubic hair. This was it. The time had come to surrender to the will of her husband… the king.

“The gods are with you on this path,” Wanda said. “I will see you ‘morrow, my queen, unless you need me before.”

Tove nodded, but didn’t speak. Her throat was dry, nerves getting the better of her. She licked her lips, her gums, and wished she had another horn of mead to sup.

How could she get wet like a waterfall when she felt so dry?

Wanda disappeared through the curtain, leaving Tove with the sound of the howling wind competing with the rush of blood in her ears. Her heart was pounding against her sternum, her knees weak. The blood seemed to have rushed to her spanked bottom, which was heating once more.

Suddenly, the curtain was thrust aside.

King Njal walked in, the curtain swung back into place behind him.

He took four big strides, then his gaze landed on her.

He came to an abrupt halt, his eyebrows lowering. He sucked a breath through his gritted teeth.

Panic warred with Tove’s other emotions. He didn’t like what he saw, she was sure of it. She was too thin, her breasts too small. Her hair was too thick, her legs not long enough.

She cast her gaze to the floor and stared at her feet. She knew she was no goddess, but had always hoped a husband would find her attractive.

Judging by Njal’s reaction, it seemed he found her hideous.

What should she do? Run? Renounce the crown and throne, and take off into the storm, sacrificing herself to the wolves and the gods?

A ruffle of material told her he’d thrown his fur off. It landed in her peripheral vision. “I am sorry, my king.”

“Sorry?” His tilted his head and studied her.

She nodded, her eyes misting. “Aye, I am sorry you find me disgusting to look at.”

“Disgusting?” He stomped over to her. “What are you talking about, wife?”

“I am not the goddess you deserve as your queen.” A tear over-spilled and she swiped at it.

“I do not wish for a goddess in this life.” He pinched her chin, forced her to look up at him. “I wish for a woman.”

She stared at his face, frustrated that she didn’t know him well enough to be able to guess what he was thinking.

“I wish for a woman who will take my cock, and give me more sons.”

“I will try.”

“To take my cock, or give me sons?”

“Both.” Another tear escaped, and a shiver wound up her spine.

“The seer has told me of our destiny.” He scooped up her tear on the tip of his index finger and drew it into his mouth. His tongue poked out and he licked his lips. “And our destiny is to be together. Starting this night, you belong to me, your body, and your heart. In this life and the next.”

“I wish for that.”

The right side of his mouth twitched, and something in his eyes softened. “Then we have a good starting point.” He released her. “And start we must. Get on the bed.”

Oh, for the love of Odin, this is it.

She did as he’d asked, the warm furs silken on her bare skin as she slid to the center.

He picked up a jug from a small table, and poured mead into a horn before taking a slug. “Here.” He passed it to her. “Drink.”

She took it, downing the mead gratefully.

He set the horn aside, then stooped to remove his boots. He discarded them, then pulled off his tunic, revealing his bare chest.

Tove snapped in a breath. Her husband was godlike. His muscles were round and hard, his skin coated in ink that swirled and curved over every rise and dip of his upper arms. Body hair snaked from his sternum to his belly, thickening at the band of his pants—pants that hugged his groin and stretched over his wide thighs.

He pushed at his clothing, his movements fast and efficient, and stepped from them.

Tove hugged her knees to her chest and stared at his cock bobbing from dark hair. The huge tip was smooth, the shaft flushed and thick.

He took it in his big fist and rubbed base to tip.

All of Wanda’s reassurances were blown out to sea. Tove knew this was an impossible marriage. She would never fit King Njal into her body. How could she? She was a small, mortal woman. He was a huge, royal giant.

“My cock is anxious to meet the cunny of my new wife,” he said, coming to the edge of the bed. “It is hard for you.”

Tove couldn’t stop staring at the tip peeking from his fist as he worked his erection.

“And if I thought you disgusting, my cock would not be hard. The more beautiful I find a woman, the harder my cock.”

“You… you think I’m…” She flicked her attention to his face. “Beautiful?”

“Aye.” He crawled onto the bed. “What king wouldn’t want an untouched maiden with pert breasts and clean skin in his bed? What cock wouldn’t want to sink deep and release pleasure in that maiden?”

His face was close to hers now, and he stopped working his cock. “I am going to claim you now. For this night—and every night—you are mine, in summer and winter, when times are good and hard. You, Tove, are my wife and my queen—and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

He kissed her, his lips determined, his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

Surprise caught in her throat as she stared at his closed eyelids. His beard was prickly on her chin but not in an unpleasant way. She caught the rhythm of his kiss and poked her tongue forward to connect with his.

He groaned and tipped his head, deepening the stroke of his tongue.

Tove closed her eyes, lost to the new sensation. Her belly did a small flip as a warm glow filled her chest.

He slid his hand over her knee and down to her ankle, tracing and learning the shape of her. Then he wrapped his fingers around her foot and dragged her leg straight.

She gasped and gripped his shoulder, their lips staying connected.

He did the same with the other leg, and pulled her down the bed until she was lying on her back and he was over her.

“Wife,” he said against her lips. “Am I the first man to kiss you?”

“Aye.”

“Do you like it?” He pulled back a little.

She stared into his eyes. “I think you should do it some more before I make up my mind.”

He chuckled, a deep throaty sound, then kissed her again.