The Barbarian's Stolen Bride (Northmen Barbarians 1)

He set them aside and went for the edge of his tunic, looking at me in the process and lifting a brow a split second before he pulled the material up and over his head. He let it fall onto the floor beside his boots.

The air left me violently as I stared at his chest. He was completely masculine in every sense of the word. His muscles were defined under his golden skin, scars from long battles crisscrossing along his pectoral muscles, arms, even his lower belly. But the scarring made him even more attractive in my eyes. I should hate this man, find him disgusting for forcing my hand in marriage, but all I could do was appreciate the view. He was brutally beautiful.

And the firelight that flickered in the room and accentuated his body made me feel extremely feminine in ways I never even imagined. I’d never been with a man, never had one touch me, kiss me, or show me any kind of pleasure. And at my age that was unheard of. I was considered a spinster, someone people saw as having a defect because I had no one after me.

I should’ve been married and had children by now, but here I was, forced into marriage to a man I didn’t know yet had longed for from a far.

Longed for from afar? Had I ever admitted to myself that I was insanely attracted to Fenrir? Sure, I’d noticed how brutally arousing he was, but had I ever let myself really understand what I wanted with this male?

I desired him, thought about what it would be like to have his big, brutal body hovering over me as he took what he wanted. I imagined him holding my hands above my head, telling me to give him everything, whispering in that gruff voice that he’d give me everything as long as I surrendered to him.

I'd never thought I would want things so carnal and forbidden, but as I stood here looking at Fenrir, those thoughts and images kept running through my mind.

And then he stood and went for the laces of his trews, and I felt my eyes widen so big my brows surely reached my hairline. A small sound escaped me, one of shock… one of need.

Although I would never admit the latter.

And as he held my gaze with his, refusing to break eye contact, he undid those leather laces on his trews and pushed them down. I told myself not to lower my eyes and look at what was revealed, but of course telling myself that meant it was exactly what I did.

I appreciated the sight of his bare chest first, the way his muscles were starkly revealed. His pectorals were hard slabs on his upper chest, his nipples small and coppery in color. His abdomen was cut with rolling hills, and this utterly attractive V of muscle framed those abdominals.

And then I was following a trail of dark hair that led down from his navel and stopped at the trimmed black hair that framed the most masculine part of his body.

“Oh. God.” Those two words were breathless as they spilled from me, and there was no way I could look away.

He was massive. Huge. His shaft was as thick as my wrist, the length of my forearm.

In other words, there was no way he’d ever fit inside me.

But that didn’t stop me from growing soft and warm. Soaked. It was as if it didn’t care if he was far too thick and long to fit inside my body; it would prime itself regardless, and gods help anyone who tried to stop it from happening.

He stood still, as if he wanted me to look my fill, wanted me to get a real, good… hard look at what he was sporting.

And he was hard. Gods, he was so hard, and I didn’t even think he was fully erect yet.

I licked my lips, and I heard this gruff sound leave him. That had me snapping my head up and staring into his eyes with a no doubt startled expression.

“Did your thralla ensure you ate last meal?”

“My thralla?” I didn’t know why I repeated his question. He was asking if my personal attendants had ensured I’d eaten. Clearly he referred to Lila and Greta, and although I’d assumed they were as much, I thought they were part of Fenrir’s general staff. It seemed strange that I—a commoner and of low social stature—would have anyone wait on me.

“Lila and Greta,” he said, parroting my thoughts. “They are your personal thralla and there to serve and help you in any and all aspects of daily living.”

He was shamelessly still standing there nude, his penis growing harder and bigger the longer I stared at him. Yet he acted as if this wasn’t the most embarrassing and obscene moment of my life.