Page 50 of Mastered By the Viking King

“Ah, oh, it’s…!” She could hear their pubic hair meshing, strands scratching against strands.

He let out a strangled cry and shot forward, releasing her breasts, clasping her chest to his. He found her mouth in a wild, primitive kiss.

Tove fisted his hair, dragging on the roots, her release so near. She couldn’t stop; if she did, she’d surely die.

She ground and bounced her way to climax. In his big arms, she was safe to let it all go. He’d catch her—always.

It was almost there, the pressure as much as she could contain.

He slid his hand down her back, to the spread cleft of her buttocks. The sensation of his finger sliding over her anus finally spiraled her into orgasm.

She cried out, the sound lodging in his mouth as he pushed his finger up her asshole.

A spinning sensation lifted her into ecstasy. Her muscles clamped around him, her clit pulsing through swift, sharp shots of bliss.

His finger plundered deeper into her ass, then a new wave of release claimed her as he shot his seed deep inside her.

Still, they kissed, lips and tongues gliding around heavy, hot breaths.

Somewhere in her mind, she was shocked that he’d fingered her ass, but it felt so good she simply went with it, shaking and jerking through her orgasm.

A moan tore from his throat. His arms were tight as vines around her torso.

She released his hair and held his cheeks, his beard filling her fingers. “Njal…”

“My queen… you ride… well.” He pulled back and chuckled, his cheeks flushed, his lips wet from their kisses.

“My king… you have… your… finger in my… ass.”

A wicked smile spread wide. “So I do.” He wriggled it.

“Oh, for the love of Freya!” Her eyes fluttered closed.

That really shouldn’t feel so good.

But her cunny was still contracting through the aftershocks of her climax, and he was sending new waves of bliss through her pelvis.

“I will put my cock in this tight ass,” he said. “When you have been with child.”

Her mouth fell open. Now that she knew how big his cock was, she knew it wouldneverfit there. His finger was big enough.

“You’ll be begging for it.” He chuckled and withdrew from her ass, dragging her down so she was lying on top of him. He cupped her ass cheeks. “Was I not wrong when I said you’d be begging for my cock? For sex?”

“No, my wise husband, you were not wrong.” She pushed fears of his cock pushing into her asshole aside. She had yet to fall with child.

Thateventuality was still a long way off.

Right now, she had more immediate worries, and as she nestled into his neck to wait for her heart rate to settle, she tried not to think of him venturing into a wild winter sea.

Chapter 12

The morn after the feast Wanda helped Tove dress in a red gown with a golden-laced bodice. It nipped in her waist and pushed her small breasts up. Already, though, she felt like she was getting fuller; she was, as Wanda would say, “finally getting some meat on her bones.” She was glad; it would keep her warmer and give her more energy.

Knud and Frode were in the dwelling quarters eating a small meal of bread and dried fish. They had a new toy each—a small longboat whittled from oak. Njal had told them he’d take them to the shore when the sunlight was at its brightest so they could play in the shallow waves.

“You are looking very fine,” Wanda said, completing the finishing touches to a complex braid that stacked Tove’s hair on top of her head.

“Because of you,” Tove said, reaching for a silver brooch in the shape of Valkyrie wings. She pinned it on.

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