The Barbarian's Stolen Bride (Northmen Barbarians 1)

He stood in front of the pit and just stared down, drinking out of his goblet as he watched those flames. His body was huge, and I couldn’t stop looking at it, couldn’t stop watching the way the muscles of his back contracted and relaxed with every little shift in his form.

His tunic hung past his hips, but his ass was beautiful, his leather trews formed perfectly around his muscular backside. I felt a wave of desire slam into me. My breasts tingled even more, and I clenched my thighs together and stifled a moan as I felt this unfamiliar wetness settle right in the center of my body.

I quickly downed the mead, sputtering and coughing, some of the alcohol slipping down my chin. I quickly wiped it away, my cheeks feeling hot from the embarrassment that I couldn’t even drink liquid properly. But I was thankful he didn’t watch me, his focus still trained on the fire as he drank out of his horn goblet. I stayed where I was, setting the cup down on the table, afraid to move, not sure what to do.

He finished off his drink and finally glanced over at me, still not speaking. He’d only said those two words since coming into the room, and a part of me wanted things to stay exactly like this because it was easy. But another part of me wanted to get things moving. The sooner it was done, the sooner it was over with, right?

But on the heels of that thought, of him moving things along, I felt more heated wetness spill between my thighs, and I clenched my legs together tighter. I had no idea what I was feeling, this tingling warmth crushing me.

Lust. I felt hard, consuming lust for this male.

“Relax.” I didn’t know why that one word had my shoulders easing, but I felt myself obeying his command. “You look upon me as if I am a ravenous wolf about to devour you.” He turned and made his way toward me, and I held my breath once more, not sure why this involuntary act kept happening around him.

He was so close to me now, so close that if I exhaled, our chests would brush together. Fenrir reached out and set the goblet on the small table, his upper body bent forward slightly, his mouth right by my ear. I could feel his warm breath along the shell and moving against my skin. Involuntarily, I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open.

He didn’t move for long moments, and then I heard him inhaling, felt his fingers move along the side of my neck as he pulled some strands of my hair up and out, rubbing them between his fingers. I heard another deep inhalation from him that shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was.

“Relax, Prima.” I caught myself before moaning softly at the way he spoke my name. “You act as if I’m going to throw you on the furs and rut between your thighs right away.”

Why was it so arousing when he spoke so obscenely?

He pulled back, and I had to slowly blink open my eyes, feeling embarrassed that he saw how much he affected me. And that was clear by the small tilt at the corner of his mouth, as if the very thought of him arousing me pleased him to no end.

“Do you think I’m some kind of bastard who takes from a woman who isn’t willing?”

I smoothed my palms up and down the sides of my shift, afraid to speak because I would surely stumble over my words. “But I am not just any woman. I’m your wife.” And in our world, being a wife meant ownership. I didn’t agree with it and never saw myself getting married, if I was being honest. The thought of a man being able to dictate what I did, where I went, who I even spoke with, was distasteful to me.

Besides, it wasn’t as if I had suitors or anyone interested in me. I’d been too focused on surviving and making money so I ensured that I always had food in my belly and warm clothes on my back.

He tilted his head to the side a little bit and continued to stare at me, as if he were really thinking about my words.

“Despite your circumstance for being here,” he lowered his gaze along my form, up and down. His eyes grew hooded… heated. “And the gown you wear,” he murmured deeply and looked back at my face. “ I’m not the ruthless barbarian everyone thinks that I’d throw you over my shoulder to have my wicked way with you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t even breathe at the moment, let alone respond. But it was clear he wasn’t looking for me to answer him. He turned and headed over to the bed, sitting down on the pallet of furs and exhaling wearily. He sat there for a moment as if catching his breath, but then he started unlacing his boots before taking them off with almost meticulous motions.