Page 60 of Mastered By the Viking King

Tove recognized the grunts of his release, and gave into her own. She knew her orgasm was forbidden, but she hoped her transgression would go unnoticed as he succumbed to his own.

Oh, but she was spasming around his cock, tightening and releasing.

He growled, a low guttural sound, and continued to plunge into her as his seed filled her cunny.

Had he noticed? Tove didn’t know, and she was too caught up in the bliss spreading over her body to care.

Suddenly, he stopped and withdrew, stepping away, leaving her cold and quivering.

She dropped her forehead to the table as his release slid down her thighs. Her sweet spot was pulsing, her sex trembling.

“Get dressed,” he said breathlessly. “Your people are waiting for their feast.” He stepped into her line of vision, tucking himself away. “And you look a mess, Queen Tove.”

“Aye, my king.” She straightened, her knees weak and wobbly. “I will be there.”

His jaw tightened as he studied her. “Did you…?”

“No.” She shook her head, pressing her legs together. “I swear. I took my punishment, that is all.”

“Good.” His eyes flashed, his lips a thin line. “Do not be long.”

He strode across the room, then disappeared through the curtain.

Tove wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. Her breath came fast and hard, her ass burning as if she’d sat upon hot embers, her body drenched in sweat.

She must never let Njal know she’d found her pleasure during her punishment. Goodness only knew what new way he’d find to reprimand her.

Chapter 14

Two days later, Tove stood with Knud, Frode, and Wanda as the new longboat was loaded for the journey.

Snow was falling, the air icy, her breath fogging in front of her face.

Caskets of pickled nuts and fish were passed along the pier, as well as water and mead in barrels. Wicker baskets of squawking chickens, blankets, spare oars, furs, and weapons were added to the boat’s supplies.

Tove’s heart was heavy as she stared out at the fjord. Even here in the shelter of the mountains the waves were choppy, white spray catching on their curls and spinning upward. She was sure the waters would be even more treacherous in open sea, the dark depths heaving and rolling, the boat tossed about as if the gods themselves were playing with it.

Njal barked orders to his warriors, his dark hair peppered with snow.

It was an uncomfortable, breath-shortening sensation. What if something happened to her husband? How would she live? She loved him. He’d quickly become her everything. She couldn’t imagine a life without him at her side—and in her bed.

After the flogging, her crime hadn’t been mentioned again. Her bottom still pained if she sat on something hard. She’d be sure to avoid the flogger in the future; it was mean, and Njal had been an expert at wielding it.

He heaved a barrel onto his shoulder and passed it over the water to Leif.

Halfdan ran up to him with a basket of daggers, which Njal nodded at. They were also passed to Leif.

“Wait! Do not leave without me, Leif, brother of King Njal.” A shield maiden, tall and strong, stomped up the pier. She held a heavy iron sword decorated with a gemstone at the hilt, and a shield in blue and yellow. Her legs were long and muscular beneath her dark pants, and her tunic was made of fine leather decorated with iron studs.

“Bodil.” Leif stopped what he was doing and straightened. “You are here!”

“In the past you have left me behind on raids. I will not be left behind again.” She stood, feet hip width apart, and pointed her sword at him. “If you even think about leaving me here, I will take off your cock in the dead of the night and make you eat it—every last bit. Then you can suck on your detached balls before I replace your eyes with them.”

Njal laughed, his shoulders shaking with it.

Leif frowned and rubbed his brow.

“So, Iamcoming with you,” Bodil said firmly. “Whether you like it or not.”

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