Page 121 of Shared By the Vikings

Before Ingrid had left she’d set a huge iron pail of water over the fire. Now it was steaming, and after hanging her furs on a hook Tali had put by the door, she lifted it down.

When her men had built the house, they’d fashioned a wooden container, like a barrel cut in half but much bigger, and set it near the fire. It could be filled with water and had a drain so when it needed to be emptied the water flowed outside the house.

Right now it was half full of melted snow. Ingrid tipped the bubbling pail of water from the fire into it, then added a glass of goat’s milk. Her handmaiden had told her that it was good for her skin, so now, once a week, Ingrid liked to bathe with it.

After adding more logs to each fire, Ingrid took off her clothes. She’d ensured all her errands were done before she’d headed out with Helga and her sons. This was a special day, one that happened once a month, when she had a day without the children to enjoy being with her men—men who had no inhibitions about bending her over and mating when the children were around, but given the choice, Ingrid preferred privacy.

She sank into the warm water. Her sigh mixed with the milky steam floating in front of her face. It was so deep her shoulders could dip beneath the surface.

Winter was a hard time, but being a princess with adoring, capable men and a handmaiden made it easier for Ingrid.

After a few minutes of warming her body through to her bones, she reached for a small knife and a bar of chestnut soap. She’d sharpened the knife in preparation of her next plan.

She canted her hips, so her mound protruded from the water. After lathering her pubic hair, she took the razor-sharp knife and began to scrape it away, from the roots.

It took some time and required a lot of concentration, but eventually Ingrid had a bare mound and bare pussy lips. She set the knife and soap aside and sank back into the water.

Her newly exposed skin tingled in the warmth. Her pussy lips were plump and smooth. She hoped her men would like it.

A mellow mood of contentment washed through her as she relaxed and listened to the familiar crackle of logs in the fires. She was content with her lot in this life, and hoped for more of the same in the next. The gods had been kind to her, blessed her with health, love, and sons.

But a daughter would be nice too.

She smiled at the thought and stroked her belly. There was plenty of time, and always plenty of opportunities to fall with child again.

The wind rattled the door and she was grateful for being inside. She thought of her men, wild and skilled, hunting for the family. They’d be tired and hungry when they returned, which she hoped wouldn’t be long now.

Before long the thud of horses’ hooves beat through the bellow of the storm. She heard deep male voices; she wasn’t sure whose for they were whipped away on the wind.

Again a little thrill of anticipation went through her. Who would be the first to see what she’d done?

After a few minutes the door opened. A flurry of chilled white flakes rushed in as if trying to escape the dervish dance of the storm.

Gunnvar and Tali were quick to follow, slinging their fur hoods down and stomping snow from their boots.

Tali slammed the door, securing the latch. “We got two.”

“Two boars?” She smiled and settled deeper into the warm water to escape the cold that had traveled in with them.

“Ja. One is hung to bleed in the spare stable, the other Erik and Raud are returning with.”

“Will they be long?”

“No.” Gunnvar removed his warm layers, then walked to the barrel and poured a horn of mead. “Let’s sup to our success. We will eat like the kings we are tonight.”

Ingrid smiled as he drank deeply. Her father was still alive and healthy, but her men had become close to him, advisors as such, and would all serve Ravndal well one day—as her husbands, and each a king in his own right.

But not for a long time.

Ingrid gave frequent sacrifices to the gods to secure her father’s health; she had many more sons to bear that she wished him to meet. And also, when her men became rulers of Ravndal and its large territory, Raud taking the helm, they’d be busy. Too busy for...

Tali poured a drink, as he raised it to his lips she stood from the water.

It rained down her body, small white-tinted rivers trickling over her nipples, from her fingers, over her ass and her bare pussy.

“Little wolf,” Gunnvar said, his concentration on the juncture of her thighs. “What have you done?”

“Do you like it?” She rubbed herself.

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