Page 107 of Shared By the Vikings

They were all so confident about making Ravndal their new home, it gave her hope that it would all be okay. But she was unable to shake the nagging doubt. Her father was going to be livid with her. It would take all the mercy of the gods for him to find forgiveness. His army didn’t worry or concern her Viking lovers, but it sent a sharp needle of fear into her heart whenever she thought of the power he could bring down upon them.

She rubbed her rune stone, hoping it would bring her strength to get through this last big change in her life. Because then, all she wanted to do was live quietly and content with her men. She wanted to bear sons, make a home and a life in her beloved Ravndal.

With her hand resting on her lower belly, she walked to a loom. It held a green woolen blanket mid-weave. She picked up the shuttle and began to work. She needed to do something while the men gathered winter supplies.

A quiet tune spun in her mind as she worked, one she remembered from feasts as a child. She began to hum, the soft vibration in her throat pleasant. She was happy to be east again, happy to have found her loves. If her father banished them, they’d still make a life together, she was sure of that.

Ingrid worked for an hour, then took a drink of water. Sipping, she stared out of the window. Raud and Erik were working opposite ends of the small field. Each wore only low-slung leather pants, sweat shone on their muscular torsos and while Erik had pulled his long dark hair back, secured with a slim piece of rope, Raud’s hung around his face and neck, the ends curling and damp.

After a few minutes enjoying watching their skill and strength, she set to the loom again, her fingers working methodically.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d worked when she heard a noise behind her.

She turned.

Erik stood silhouetted in the doorframe.

There was something about the way he held his shoulders tense and the spread of his feet that made her heart rate pick up. Energy flowed from him and seemed to swirl around her.

He stepped in and set the scythe against the wall.

She swallowed as he came nearer. He wanted something... something from her.

What has he been thinking about in the field?

When he came close and light from the window caught the side of his face, Ingrid saw determination and dominance in his eyes.

He took her wrists and urged her hands behind her back. Once there he set his over her linked fingers and squeezed, as though ordering her to stay that way.

Then he placed his hands on her shoulders. Still he didn’t speak.

He’s been thinking of me. Of what he wants to do with me.

A thrill traveled through her and her breaths quickened.

He exerted pressure on her shoulders, so much pressure she was forced to lower, then bend her knees. He kept on pushing until she was on her knees before him.

He cupped her chin in his hot, work-rough hand, and tilted her face upward.

His eyes flashed and his lips were damp as though he’d just swiped his tongue over them.

Ingrid’s pulse beat loud in her ears. The floor was hard but she didn’t care. Her man wanted her, here, on her knees, and that’s what she’d do for him.

I’d do anything to make him happy.

With his free hand he released the buttons on his pants. He shoved at the waistband and his cock sprung free. It was hard and thick, the end glossy.

He held it in his fist and rubbed root to tip, his jaw tightening.

Ingrid’s mouth watered; she wanted to taste him the way she had Gunnvar. Take him deep into her throat, have his velvety skin ride over her tongue.

He used the pad of his thumb to press on her chin, urging her to open her mouth.

She did just that.

Canting his hips forward, his cock neared her. As his glans moved between her lips she had to widen until her jaw ached.

He released his cock and gathered her hair up, holding it tight to her scalp and keeping her locked in position.

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