When Agata wakes up in the middle of nowhere after drinking an herb concoction given to her by an old Norwegian woman, she is confused and just wants to get home. She doesn’t get time to think about her situation because a towering man with battle scars and wielding an ax takes her as his property. Although there is a language barrier between her and the barbarian, she understands the word he keeps calling her: wife.
When Stian Dagmar finds a woman alone and unconscious in the woods, the first thought he has is that he wants her as his wife. She will probably fight him, struggle for her freedom, but being with him is a lot safer than what his world will give her.
Can Agata accept her new life and the feelings for Stian that grow within her, or will she go home the first opportunity that arises?
Be Warned: spanking, anal sex
“I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you,” he said, and lowered his head and inhaled again at the base of her throat. She was tense beside him, tried to move away an inch, but he tightened his hold on her waist, and pulled her snugly against his body. He was hard, so fucking hard his balls ached and he yearned to bury his cock inside her lush little body.
“Please, this isn’t right. This isn’t what I want,” she said in a soft, breathy voice. She tried to remove his hand from her waist, but she put no strength behind it. He didn’t know what she’d said, but he could assume she was telling him that she didn’t want this. She might say that, fight him to a point, too, but he also picked up on the little movements she made, as if she were trying to refrain from letting go and letting him touch her the way he wanted. He pushed her hand out of the way and continued to slide it along the slope of her waist, moving his palm forward until he placed it right on her mound.
She was hot, scorching even, and his cock gave a mighty jerk. He’d put leather back on, and only did so because it would help his desires be cooled off slightly. He didn’t want to frighten her, but have her get used to the feeling of him touching her. Moving his hand lower until he cupped her pussy, the only thing blocking him from her bare heat and flesh was the fabric of her shift. He rubbed her, touched her in a way that had her ass pressed right up against his cock, and had her murmuring things in a soft, breathy voice.
“God, why am I allowing this?” she said softly in a voice that was a little strained. He wished he knew what she spoke of, but soon he’d correct that. Soon she’d speak his language, and he could tell her that she was his irrevocably.
Her hands were tightly woven in the hides, had the material wrapped between her little fingers hard enough that her knuckles were white. He rubbed her, applied enough pressure that he started to feel her wetness seep through the material, and growled out in approval. He wouldn’t fuck her, not until he knew she was ready and willing for him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make them both feel good in the meantime.
“So soft and sweet, wet and mine, wife,” he said right by her ear. The way she trembled for him, tried to push him away yet pressed her ass closer to his groin, told him that this female was strong-willed as much as she was giving. He didn’t expect her to give in so easily, or at least he didn’t want her to.
Stian didn’t want a weak female. He was a warrior, and because of that required a woman that could give as good as she took. She’d need to be able to protect herself and take a life if need be.
“You’ll make a good wife, a good mother to my strong sons,” he whispered against her ear. He would teach her his language, show her how they could communicate with each other eventually. Until then they could use their bodies to say what they needed.