Page 42 of Shared By the Vikings

“It’s clear you will only be tamed if you want to be.”

“And was that... to tame me?”

“Partly, for I am not Erik, I am Gunnvar Thun, we are different men, and we can please and discipline you in different ways.”

“Erik didn’t please me.”

“Not last night, in the shelter?”

“No.” She was still breathing fast. “He didn’t.”

His hold slackened though he didn’t let her go completely.

“I can stand on my own.” She staggered from his embrace and rested her palm on the tree he’d spanked her against.

“Are you well?”

She nodded. “I am.” She stared at a split in the bark; it was shaped like a fork. “No one has...”

“No one has what?”

“Touched me there before.” She reached for her pants and pulled them up over her ass, then fastened the button at her waist.

“What are you speaking of?” The leaves beneath his feet crunched as he stepped closer.

“I’ve yet to give up my maidenhead.” She turned to him. “That is why Erik didn’t lie with me last night. That is why... having you do that is...” She couldn’t find the words. “Is...”

“Ingrid.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I had no idea, you are a grown woman, I thought...”

“You forget, my father is king, I can’t give my maidenhead to just anyone.”

“You didn’t even with Raud?”

“No, I was never meant to marry him, remember.” She looked into his eyes. They blazed with something new, something that fascinated her and drew her in.

“I would have been gentler,” he said softly, his lips hovering over hers now. “Not with your spanking, you deserved that for risking your life and scaring me, but with giving you pleasure. I would have been much gentler.” He set his lips over hers briefly. “Forgive me.” He kissed her again.

She held her lips still for a moment, surprised by his sudden change and his newfound gentle demeanor, then she kissed him back. It was a soft exploration of mouths; his tongue peeked against hers as he pulled her to his body.

Sighing, she leaned against his chest. This man was an enigma. Wild wolf chaser one minute, then stern disciplinarian, giver of extreme pleasure, and now holding her as if she were the most delicate piece of fine crafted pottery.

“Ingrid,” he murmured, kissing over her cheek to her ear. “I am yours. I will not let the king down, I will protect you with my life as long as we are here.”

“My father would appreciate those words.” She hesitated. “Though likely you’d have to protect me from him, should you ever meet.”

Gunnvar frowned, creating two neat lines in his brow.

“I stole away in the dead of the night with Raud. With not a word as to my whereabouts and leaving him having to explain to a fat old bear-man that I wasn’t to be his bride.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m glad you did. You should not give your maidenhead to that type of man, or spend your life with him.”

She smiled and stroked the ink that spread over his shoulder. “I’m glad you understand.”

“I do.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small rock of charcoal. “Like this.” He held it at her forehead, then drew a line down over her nose, the cusp of her top lip, her chin, neck, and onto her throat until her tunic started. He then repeated the action on himself, starting at his brow. “The gods planned on us meeting, of sharing that moment with wolves, with each other, this is to symbolize that.”

She nodded as he drew the thick black line low on his chest, over his abdomen, navel, and to the dark hair that started before the waistband of his pants.

When he’d finished, he replaced the charcoal. “We should get back to the fire.”

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