Besieged (8 page)

One week later

Geirwolf’s thoughts were in turmoil as he
walked toward the breeding stalls. He hadn’t touched Peggy in a sexual way for
nigh unto a week for he wanted her to come to him when she was ready. Or at
least for now, he mentally qualified, until her fears had been allayed.

But every night grew worse. Every night it
became more and more difficult to resist the temptation of burying his rigid
cock into her warm, pliant pussy or her talented, hot mouth…especially now that
he knew what both of them felt like. He had no idea how or if he’d make it
through even one more evening alone with her. He also knew, however, that he
didn’t want to frighten her, so he’d have to find a way to make it through the
evening whether she wanted to be sexual with him or not.

Geirwolf didn’t want to be an arrogant
autocrat who took what he wanted when he wanted it, consequences be damned. His
father had been that way when first his mother had been stolen, and if his
grandmother’s gossip could be replied upon (which it usually could) it had
taken the jarl’s wife a full four years to accept her place at his side. Four
years was a hell of a long time—a lot longer than Geirwolf wanted to spend with
Peggy feeling ambivalent towards him.

And so Geirwolf had held himself back, not
wanting to make the same mistakes his father had made with his mother. The
older couple was happy now, aye, but that happiness had come at the price of four
years they could never get back.

The last week with Peggy had been wonderful
in all ways except sexually. They were becoming friends, which was something he
had never before experienced with a woman. He even felt comfortable sharing his
feelings with her, which was something he had never before experienced with a
woman or a man.

Geirwolf had been raised to be stoic and
aloof, yet in a week’s time Peggy had managed to penetrate all of the walls
he’d spent a lifetime erecting. He had been raised to be autocratic and
domineering, yet the mere sight of his wife made him feel tender emotions he
wasn’t entirely comfortable feeling.

He wanted her—more than he’d ever wanted
anyone or anything in his life.

He was ready to be mated, and at
thirty-four years was far past the age that most warriors reached before they
took a bride. All of these years he had held himself back, hunting time and
time again for a female who gave him the right feeling. Peggy was that
female—he was sure of it.

He had watched her from afar for weeks,
studying the way she interacted with others, studying everything there was to
know about her. He admired her keen intellect, admired her independent,
adventurous spirit, admired too the beauty of her lush, fleshy form. He had
known the moment he’d clapped eyes on her back in outlander Barrow that she was
the one. The weeks he’d spent studying her had only confirmed it.

The image of Peggy, naked and wanting him
of her own volition, popped into Geirwolf’s mind—again. He sighed, knowing it
was but setting himself up for a fall to fantasize about an intimacy she wasn’t
yet ready to feel, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

He was already in love with her. He was
beginning to wonder if she’d ever fall in love with him.

Geirwolf walked stoically toward the
breeding stalls, realizing as he did that in the end the answer to that
question didn’t matter. They were wed. They would always be wed. Peggy would
always belong to him even if his love was never returned.

His jaw tightened as he considered the fact
that it was possible his wife would never want him. He prayed to the gods that
such would not be the case, but knew he had to prepare himself for that
outcome.

Geirwolf prepared to open the door to
Peggy’s private stall, expecting to find her already asleep for he was coming
to her later than usual. His hand stilled on the latch when the sound of soft
moans coming from the other side of the door reached his ears. Stunned, he
stood there in shock for a threadbare moment before a hot, all-consuming possessiveness
coursed through him.

She has taken a lover. My wife is
cheating on me…

Furious, and ready to kill whomever it was
that was fucking her, Geirwolf pushed the heavy door open with all of his
strength, inducing it to crash against the earthen wall. His heartbeat thumping
like mad, adrenaline rushing through his blood, he stepped inside the dimly lit
room, the sound of the door crashing shut behind him filling the small chamber.
“What!” he bellowed, “is going on in—”

His body stilled as his eyes adjusted to
the dim light of the chamber’s single lit torch. He swallowed over the quickly
forming lump in his throat as he watched Peggy masturbate on her back, her
fingers gliding over her erect, slippery clit as she rocked back and forth in a
slow undulation.

“I want you,” she whispered. Her eyes were
closed. Her voice sounded tired, a bit weary. “I’m sick of fighting it,” she
said hoarsely.

Geirwolf’s mind now realized that no other
male had fucked his wife, yet his body, still pumping full of primal
adrenaline, hadn’t quite caught up. His breathing was labored, possessiveness
swamping him. She was laid out on the mating bed, her legs splayed wide apart,
his for the taking.

Reacting instinctively, he came to her in a
territorial fashion, pushing his braies down to his knees as he stood before
her at the foot of the bed. Grabbing her thighs and pushing them apart, he
entered her wet flesh without ceremony, seating himself to the hilt in one
violent thrust.

“Fitta mi,” he hissed, his teeth gritting.
“My cunt.”

Peggy gasped when Geirwolf thrust inside of
her, then gasped again when he palmed her breasts and began to ride her body
hard. Her husband had a menacing appearance every day, but tonight he looked
downright dangerous, she thought. The tattoo of the dragon that snaked up his
left arm seemed to move as his muscles flexed in time with his thrusts.

“Faster,” she prodded him on. She had been
given a week to sort out her feelings and now she wanted him so badly that even
her nostrils were flaring.
“Fuck me harder.”

Standing before her at the foot of the bed,
her legs spread wide apart by his callused hands, Geirwolf gave her what she
wanted as hard as she wanted it. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs
and his jaw clenched hotly as he buried his stiff cock inside of her pussy,
over and over, again and again.

“Oh god,”
Peggy moaned, her head falling back and her back arching. She could hear the
sound of their flesh meeting, the sound of her pussy sucking him back in with
every upstroke.
“Oh god.”

“Come for me,” Geirwolf ground out. He
rotated his hips and slammed into her pussy harder. His fingers dug more
securely into her thighs as he picked up the pace and fucked her with fast,
merciless movements.
“Now.”

Peggy glanced down between her legs,
watching as her husband’s cock slammed into her flesh over and over again. The
sight of his heavily muscled body holding her comparatively smaller one
pinioned before him while his hips pistoned back and forth as he pummeled into
her was the most erotic thing she’d ever laid eyes on. She came on a loud
groan, her back arching and her eyes closing.
“Oh god.”
Her head fell
back onto the pillows, her nipples stiffening to the point of pain, her body
convulsing.
“Oh my god.”

Geirwolf fucked her even harder then, the
vein at his jugular bulging.
“My cunt,”
he ground out again and again as
if it was a mantra.
“Mine.”

He went primal on her then, pumping in and
out of her in fast, violent thrusts. He fucked her as if he was branding her,
like an animal marking his territory.

Geirwolf impaled her pussy over and over,
again and again. Perspiration dotted his forehead and his muscles clenched
tightly as his body prepared for orgasm. The look of pleasure on his face—that
expression that so closely resembled pain—held Peggy spellbound once again as
he buried himself inside of her to the hilt in a series of lightning-quick,
deep strokes.

“You’re mine, Peggy,” he growled, his teeth
gritting.
“All mine.”

He broke on a loud groan, his body
convulsing as he violently climaxed into her cunt. She threw her hips at him
the entire time, using the movement to suck all of the cum out of his cock with
her pussy. She kept the fast, furious movement up for a solid thirty seconds,
not relenting until he collapsed on top of her with a moan, spent and satisfied.

It was a long while before either of them
spoke. They simply laid there, holding onto each other as if the world had gone
mad and they were each other’s lifeboat to sanity. But then again, perhaps they
were.

“I love you, Peggy,” Geirwolf confessed. He
placed a gentle kiss on first one of her stiff nipples and then on her lips.
“I’ve waited my entire life to find you,” he murmured. “And I hope that one day
soon you will come to love me.”

Peggy ran her fingers through his silky,
sunny-blonde hair. “That’s assuming I already don’t,” she whispered. She
sighed. “And you should never assume anything.”

2 months later

It had been a long two months. Life in the
breeding stalls was, after all, rather boring and monotonous. There wasn’t much
to do once your training was complete—other than watch other terrified women
get trained during the days, then wait for your husband to come to you at
night. And oh, how she had come to look forward to the nights…

Geirwolf was, for lack of a better
expression, the best fuck on earth. He was attentive and possessed great
stamina and had also, she thought with a small smile, turned out to be orally
fixated—a fact Peggy would never complain about.

But it was more than the sex. It was also
the talking. They talked a lot, she and Geirwolf. About everything and nothing.
About the inane and the important. But mostly they discussed what their life
would be like when she became pregnant and left the breeding stalls.

She walked toward her private chamber,
knowing that Geirwolf would be coming to her soon, her thoughts on the
conversation they’d had last night.

“I can’t deny that I’m falling hard for
you, Wolf,” Peggy said, her hand absently stroking his chest. “But I also can’t
deny the fact that my work with the Inupiat is important to me. Or the fact
that if I do become pregnant I would want my mother to be able to see her only
grandchild.”

“Peggy,” he sighed. “I wish there was a way
to grant you your desires. Yet my people would literally kill me did I try to
take you from New Norway, if even for just a week or two.”

“But Wolf…”

He held a finger up to her mouth. “The way
our people have survived all these years is by remaining unknown to the outside
world. No one who comes here—no one—is allowed to leave once they set eyes on
New Norway unless it is to join the gods.” He sighed. “I cannot say I am sorry
you are mine, but what can I do?”

Peggy closed her eyes, her heart sinking. “Nothing,
I guess,” she whispered.

Geirwolf placed her hand on his erect cock.
He wanted to be sexual again, any fool could figure that out, yet contrarily
his thoughts seemed far away. His next words confirmed it. “The priests who
serve as interim to the gods have declared for a thousand years that we are to
live below-ground,” he murmured.

Peggy’s head came up. “Why?” she asked,
genuinely interested.

“Visions they’ve had. Visions of a future
earth where women are scarce.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s fascinating,”
she said truthfully. She was forever the anthropologist, always interested in
myths and legends. “So they believe that by staying below the ground—”

“—That our people will never suffer this
famine of females,” Geirwolf broke in. “For we will continue to breed women in
the numbers the gods intended, rather than become like the depraved who live
above ground.”

Peggy chewed that over, intrigued by the
prophesies that had fueled the invention of this culture a thousand years ago. “Interesting,”
she murmured.

And, once again, Peggy had dropped the
subject of her career and her mother. But even when she had caved in she had
also realized that, inevitably, the subject would come up again. Like tonight.

Peggy sighed as she plopped down onto the
bed. She had a lot of feelings swimming through her brain, all of them stemming
from the knowledge that she was pregnant.

Pregnant
,
she thought, her heart racing. She was well and truly
pregnant
. Ivara
had given her the exciting news this morning after she’d taken some primitive
looking, yet highly accurate, test. By now even Geirwolf must know, she mused.
So how did she feel about it?

Peggy raked her fingers through her hair,
asking herself that question for the millionth time since she’d been given the
news that she was to leave the breeding stalls tomorrow and go with Geirwolf to
his home. On one hand she was elated, not only because she got to leave the
boring stalls, but also because she was thrilled with the idea of having a
baby.

And not just any man’s baby,
Peggy…Geirwolf’s baby.

Geirwolf. She loved him—she was in love
with him. He had gotten under her skin just as she’d known he would and had
stolen her heart along with her body. And, just as Geirwolf had once predicted,
she now held her hands out to him in the nights, wanting him to hold her, to
love her.

Peggy bit into her lower lip, her thoughts
a mess. On one hand she was elated to be pregnant, but on the other hand she
was terrified. Being pregnant, after all, made her life in New Norway seem
more…real. More real and more permanent. She was a true New Norwayer now, a
full mate to the man who would one day rule the people here. She didn’t know
how to feel about that.

Being pregnant also meant something else,
something that made her eyes tear up just thinking about the reality of it…

Being pregnant meant going through the
delivery, and then through the joys and sorrows of motherhood, without sharing
the experiences with her own mom. She knew Geirwolf disliked talking about
these things for he felt as though his hands were tied where her mother was
concerned, yet Peggy knew that a great sadness would always live inside of her
without her mother in her life.

Growing up, her family had possessed little
money but a lot of love. Her mom had worked two jobs after her father had died
just to keep food on the table and a house over their heads. She had also
worked her butt off to put Peggy through college. The fact that she was so
close to becoming a Ph.D. was a point of pride her mother prattled on about to
anyone who’d listen—and even those who didn’t listen.

Peggy smiled, nostalgia overwhelming her
whenever she remembered her mom. How could she be totally at peace, she
thought, when her mother would never lay eyes on her grandchild?

“Hello little mommy.”

Peggy glanced up from where she was sitting
on the bed to a smiling Geirwolf. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, just as
they always did. He was holding a gift wrapped in a silk covering, which she
could only assume was meant for her. She supposed the gift was probably the
gold arm bangles women were given to wear when they left the breeding stalls.
“Hi.”

Geirwolf’s eyes narrowed. His gaze raked
over her nude body then back up to her face. “You are…different today.” His
expression was stoic as usual, yet uncertainty lurked in his wolf-blue eyes.
“Not so happy as I was hoping you’d be,” he murmured.

“No—no! I’m very happy!” she quickly
assured him. She shrugged, looking away. “Just not completely happy if you know
what I mean.”

“Your mother?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He sighed as he sat down next to her on the
bed. He was quiet for a moment, but then he said, “I want you to be completely
happy about this baby—our baby. We made this child together and he or she
deserves our devotion.”

“Oh Wolf I know that.” Peggy shook her
head. “How could you think that I—”

He placed a callused finger to her lips. “I
don’t think that.” He smiled. “But I want you to be happy.” He sighed like a
martyr, mumbling something about the unholy depths a man would sink to for his
woman. “Your mother—she is widowed?”

“Yeah.” Peggy’s forehead wrinkled. “Why?”

“I just needed to be certain,” he muttered.

Peggy gasped. “You’re going to steal her?”

“Yes,” he said without apology. “Since this
is the only way you will be happy.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Steal her?” she whispered to herself, her feelings in overdrive.

The thought of her mother coming to live
here—and being forced to walk around naked for crying out loud!—competed in her
mind with the thought of her mother cleaning rich people’s houses every day all
day long just to make ends meet. And, worse yet, she believed that her only
child was dead…

“Do it,” Peggy murmured, hoping she was
making the right decision. Her mother was a beautiful woman. The warriors here
would be tripping over themselves to get to her. “Just promise me she won’t end
up in the Commons or the Dungeon of Shame.” Her nostrils flared. “I mean it.”

Geirwolf blinked. “Why should she dislike
the Commons? And what in the world is a Dungeon of Shame?”

Peggy huffed. “Don’t pretend ignorance.
Ivara took us to both places and I know what they are.”

Geirwolf smiled slowly. It was beginning to
occur to him how it was that Ivara was able to break the reticence of brides
down in mere hours. She lied to them. “Do enlighten me.”

Peggy told him about her experience in the
Commons and about how the men there touched any woman they wanted to. She told
him about the blue-eyed devil who had pulled her down onto his lap and scared
the wits out of her. (Geirwolf would be having a long talk with his blue-eyed
devil of a brother.) And then she told him about the women who had been hung in
cages in the Dungeon of Shame, splayed out on all fours for the use of any man
who wanted them. By the time she was done talking, much to her disgruntlement,
Geirwolf was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

“How can you laugh about that?” Peggy
squeaked. “It’s deplorable!” This was the first time she’d ever seen him laugh
and she had to admit he did it quite sexily.

Geirwolf grinned as he sat her nude body
down on his lap. “That was all lies Ivara concocted. Truly, the Dungeon of
Shame doesn’t even exist.” He chuckled again. “She must get some of her widow
friends together for these little performances to scare the brides into
relenting.” One eyebrow shot up. “Pretty ingenious do you ask me.”

Peggy frowned. “I can’t believe I was taken
in by that.”

“I’m glad you were,” he teased. “I was
dying to breed you.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t help but
to grin at that. “And the Commons?”

Geirwolf’s expression turned serious. “It’s
a real place, but nothing non-consensual goes on there.” He shrugged. “Only
widows not bound to any warrior are permitted to go there. It’s a place where
they can do anything they’d like, sow their wild oats so to speak, before
settling on another warrior.”

“That’s why their pubic hair is shaved?
That means they are widows?”

“Ja—Yes.”

Peggy chewed that over for a moment. She
supposed it all made sense. The females she’d been trained with who had been
native New Norwayers wouldn’t have known about what went on in such a place
because they were too young to, so that explained their fright as much as the
fright of the non-natives.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Ivara’s
one smart cookie, I’ll give her that.”

Geirwolf chuckled at that. “It appears so.”
He shooed Peggy off of his lap and stood up. “Come. We can discuss this after
we get you out of these damn breeding stalls. I’ve been waiting for you to be
moved into our home for an age it feels like.”

Peggy smiled, his dark, brooding accent
sounding sexier than ever. “Me too.” She couldn’t wait to leave the stalls. She
wanted to find out if Michelle had settled in well, she wanted to see her
mother, and she admitted, she wanted to be with her husband on a full-time
basis.

Geirwolf’s body stilled. His eyes searched
hers. “Are you really happy about the baby?” he murmured.

“Oh yeah.” She grinned, then gently patted
her tummy. “I can’t wait to have your baby, Wolf. I hope she’s a girl so she
can give you major hell.”

He smiled at that. “I wouldn’t complain,”
he said softly. “I will love her. As I love you.”

Peggy stood up on tiptoe and kissed the tip
of his nose. “I’m glad you love me.” She smiled. “Because I love you too.”