Anna Markland - Viking Roots Medieval Romance Saga 01 by The Rover Bold
Authors: The Rover Bold
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pendant of the goddess Freyja hung around her neck. She rubbed the talisman between thumb and forefinger, finding it strangely calming.
At last, when she feared she might die of heat in the confined space of the dining area, Bryk held out his hand. “ Kom , Cath-ryn,” he said, his deep voice rich with promise.
~~~
For the first time in his life, Bryk wished he didn’t belong to a tribe of men who were unashamedly vocal in their exuberance about sexual matters. He sensed his bride was skittish enough without the raucous cheers that echoed as he escorted his bride to their tiny chamber.
He had swallowed his pride and asked Poppa to arm him with words for the bridal bed, but hoped his lovemaking would demonstrate how much he cherished her.
Torstein had lit the candles as instructed, and the chamber smelled fresh, which was more than could be said when they’d first entered it earlier in the day. It had been a long while since he’d slept in a real bed and he trusted his thrall had made sure the linens were clean.
He didn’t intend to do much sleeping this night. Cath-ryn had awakened a long buried desire to sire children, to perhaps establish his own dynasty.
He pulled off his boots, then casually eased the overtunic and shirt over his head and tossed them away carelessly. She’d seen him do this before, so he hoped she wouldn’t be alarmed.
He knelt to remove her shoes. She watched, wide-eyed, her hands on his shoulders. Then she touched her fingertips to the silver amulets around his biceps. By rights they belonged to Alfred as the eldest son, but his brother had insisted Bryk have them.
“You were wearing these the night we met,” she whispered.
“ Ja ,” he replied. “My fader —warrior.”
She stared up at the amulet around his neck as he came to his feet. “Can I touch it?”
His throat had gone strangely dry, so he simply nodded.
She examined the rune sheet. “It’s green.”
“Copper,” he explained. “Green like your eyes.”
“ It has symbols, like the comb.”
Was he ready to tell her he loved her , to explain Myldryd? “ Rún ,” he replied, frustrated by his cowardice.
The silence stretched until she whispered, “You have nipples.”
H er innocence struck him full force. The prospect of being the first to possess her was highly arousing, but he would have to be patient and careful not to hurt her. He sensed passion in Cath-ryn and Freyja had granted him the right to unleash it.
He took hold of her hands and put them on his chest. “Touch,” he said. “Feel me.”
He fervently hoped she would soon want to taste as well as touch him. She kept her hands where he had placed them for a few minutes, then brushed her thumbs over his nipples. He tilted his chin to the rafters, swallowing hard to smother the growl that threatened to emerge as desire spiraled from his sack into his spine.
She withdrew her hands quickly, her face full of concern. “Did I hurt you?”
How to explain the fire flowing through his veins at her touch? He decided to take a chance. He brushed his thumbs over the nipples pouting against the fabric of her dress. Her mouth fell open and she closed her eyes.
“ Pain?” he asked.
She peeled open her eyes. “No,” she replied hoarsely. “I like it.”
She sucked in a breath when he did it again. Control of his greedy pikk was going to be difficult.
He put his palms over the brooches they’d used to pin the straps of her overdress, hoping he’d soon be cupping warm, firm breasts no man had ever touched. “Take clothing off.”
She hesitated only a moment, then reached to unfasten the brooches.
~~~
T o Cathryn’s relief, Bryk took over the task of unpinning the elaborate silver fastenings from her trembling hands. The woolen overdress slipped soundlessly to the floor, revealing the fine linen chemise Poppa had given her. She’d never worn such a garment, but suddenly she wanted it off, wanted to feel the golden hairs on his chest against her
At last, when she feared she might die of heat in the confined space of the dining area, Bryk held out his hand. “ Kom , Cath-ryn,” he said, his deep voice rich with promise.
~~~
For the first time in his life, Bryk wished he didn’t belong to a tribe of men who were unashamedly vocal in their exuberance about sexual matters. He sensed his bride was skittish enough without the raucous cheers that echoed as he escorted his bride to their tiny chamber.
He had swallowed his pride and asked Poppa to arm him with words for the bridal bed, but hoped his lovemaking would demonstrate how much he cherished her.
Torstein had lit the candles as instructed, and the chamber smelled fresh, which was more than could be said when they’d first entered it earlier in the day. It had been a long while since he’d slept in a real bed and he trusted his thrall had made sure the linens were clean.
He didn’t intend to do much sleeping this night. Cath-ryn had awakened a long buried desire to sire children, to perhaps establish his own dynasty.
He pulled off his boots, then casually eased the overtunic and shirt over his head and tossed them away carelessly. She’d seen him do this before, so he hoped she wouldn’t be alarmed.
He knelt to remove her shoes. She watched, wide-eyed, her hands on his shoulders. Then she touched her fingertips to the silver amulets around his biceps. By rights they belonged to Alfred as the eldest son, but his brother had insisted Bryk have them.
“You were wearing these the night we met,” she whispered.
“ Ja ,” he replied. “My fader —warrior.”
She stared up at the amulet around his neck as he came to his feet. “Can I touch it?”
His throat had gone strangely dry, so he simply nodded.
She examined the rune sheet. “It’s green.”
“Copper,” he explained. “Green like your eyes.”
“ It has symbols, like the comb.”
Was he ready to tell her he loved her , to explain Myldryd? “ Rún ,” he replied, frustrated by his cowardice.
The silence stretched until she whispered, “You have nipples.”
H er innocence struck him full force. The prospect of being the first to possess her was highly arousing, but he would have to be patient and careful not to hurt her. He sensed passion in Cath-ryn and Freyja had granted him the right to unleash it.
He took hold of her hands and put them on his chest. “Touch,” he said. “Feel me.”
He fervently hoped she would soon want to taste as well as touch him. She kept her hands where he had placed them for a few minutes, then brushed her thumbs over his nipples. He tilted his chin to the rafters, swallowing hard to smother the growl that threatened to emerge as desire spiraled from his sack into his spine.
She withdrew her hands quickly, her face full of concern. “Did I hurt you?”
How to explain the fire flowing through his veins at her touch? He decided to take a chance. He brushed his thumbs over the nipples pouting against the fabric of her dress. Her mouth fell open and she closed her eyes.
“ Pain?” he asked.
She peeled open her eyes. “No,” she replied hoarsely. “I like it.”
She sucked in a breath when he did it again. Control of his greedy pikk was going to be difficult.
He put his palms over the brooches they’d used to pin the straps of her overdress, hoping he’d soon be cupping warm, firm breasts no man had ever touched. “Take clothing off.”
She hesitated only a moment, then reached to unfasten the brooches.
~~~
T o Cathryn’s relief, Bryk took over the task of unpinning the elaborate silver fastenings from her trembling hands. The woolen overdress slipped soundlessly to the floor, revealing the fine linen chemise Poppa had given her. She’d never worn such a garment, but suddenly she wanted it off, wanted to feel the golden hairs on his chest against her
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