Page 28 of Taken By the Barbarian King

I’ve never slept so well in my entire life. Especially after Thundar slipped into the bed after the lights were off and tucked me into his arms.

In the morning, more treatments followed. Hair done up in intricate braids. Some lotion that made my skin pleasantly warm. More lotion that made me shimmer under the bright Asygarthian sunlight. Then the wedding dress. Or rather… the scraps of a wedding dress. Made of fabric so light, I can barely feel it, and so sheer, it’s basically see-through. One piece wraps around my breasts and the other piece wraps around my hips. Jewels, glistening crystals of all shades of blue and purple are draped over every spare, uncovered inch of me.

The ceremony was simple, conducted on a raised platform set above a large snowy field filled with guests. Some were obviously aristocrats from the pompous way they held themselves. But behind them were thousands of subjects of the realm. Just normal people like me, like who I was merely a week ago.

According to Fiotrix, holding the ceremony outside and allowing the commoners to attend is apparently an affront to tradition, but Thundar insisted for my sake.

Go, Thundar.

In the end, the ceremony was surprisingly Earth-like. Love and cherish. In sickness and in health. All things I eagerly committed to and Thundar eagerly committed to in return. And after we were officially husband and wife, the royal council crowned us king and queen.

When we turned to face the people as king and queen for the first time, a battle cry erupted from those gathered to witness this historic moment. Feet stomping, metal clashing against metal, it sounded like they were about to storm the palace.

But Thundar beamed. “They are congratulating us,” he explained, shouting above the noise. “They like that you are like them. They are hopeful that we will lead them into a better future.”

I blinked back unexpected tears. I made a silent promise then, that I would do everything I could to fight for the people who have accepted me as their own.

Afterward, our celebration reception was surprisingly… medieval. Long rows of tables in a great hall. Giant platters of meat, vegetables, and fruit. Goblets of mylk and something that tasted like mead. We all ate with our hands. I had a discreet cloth placed at my seat. Thundar beamed when I used it to wipe my fingers.

The party is still in full swing when Thundar stands. “Fear not, my Lottie. This is the fun part of the tradition,” he says to me in a whisper.

I barely have time to process his words before he pulls my chair away from the table and sweeps me into his arms. I shriek as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, ass in the air.

“What the hell?!” I yell.

I flail, but his arms are tight around my thighs and his hair wraps around my torso, pinning me in place.

“Are you serious right now? This is supposed to be fun?” I struggle, but Thundar has no trouble carting me off like I’m a sack of potatoes.

The room erupts into cheers as their barbarian king abducts their queen–yet again. Yay. Fun.

Thundar doesn’t set me down until we reach the bedroom of his private apartment. And when he does, he tosses me onto the mattress. I land with a bounce and a squawk.

He stands next to the bed, hands on his hips, grinning so wide. He looks so damn proud of himself and god, he’s so handsome, I honestly have a hard time staying mad at him.

“Congratulations,” I deadpan. “You’ve liberated me.”

His lips quirk and his eyes twinkle. “Not yet. But I will.” He grabs one end of the fabric tied around my hips and in a single swift motion, rips it from my body. He does the same with the fabric around my breasts, leaving me naked, save the jewels.

“You’re beautiful,” he says in a reverent whisper. And honestly? When he looks at me like that, I feel beautiful.

I reach a hand out to him, to my husband, my king.

His wedding loin cloth is made of that same sheer fabric and it takes no more than a light yank for it to go falling to the floor. His cock stands up, hard and leaking, pointed straight at me. My mouth waters at the sight of him. Big and blue, muscular and strong. Long white hair flowing around his shoulders. Eyes that are as cold as ice and as warm as the sun all at the same time.

He looks every inch the barbarian king.

But I know better.

Thundar is no barbarian. He’s an honest, loyal man who wants to serve his people. He wants to change things for the better and make his world a place where every one of his subjects thrive. What could be more attractive than that?

Thundar climbs onto the bed and grabs a hold of my ankle. He plants a kiss right in the arch of my foot, then another on the inside of my ankle. He nibbles his way up my calf and by the time he makes it to my knee, I’m already soaking.

My pussy clenches in protest when he sets the leg down to repeat his actions with the other. Arch of the foot, inside of the ankle, nibble up the calf, lick the back of my knee.

Then two thick locks of hair wrap themselves around my knees and wrench my thighs apart.

I gasp as I’m exposed to him, unable to hide. My clit throbs against the cold air of the room. “Thundar!”

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