Page 7 of Song and Sword
“N-no…” Sif managed. His hands—larger and more powerful than she remembered—circled possessively around her waist. Her breath caught as one hand slid downwards, cupping her mons over the material of her skirt. His other hand rose upwards, cupping her breast. Suddenly he was pressing into her again, molding her body to his, and she could feel the throbbing pulse of his need against the curve of her ass.
Sif was afraid that she was going to soak right through her skirt. Her body was sending thrills of pleasure everywhere. She couldn’t think of anything beyond having Hakon—herHakon—take her right here, against the railing, amidst the salt air and the sounds of the sea.
His hands. They were gripping the folds of her skirt, dragging the material up higher and higher.
What had she meant to tell him? Gods and goddesses, did it matter?
“Push your ass out,” his voice whispered in her ear, rough with rising desire.
I can’t say no to him. Freyja help me, I don’t evenwantto say no to him.
Sif arched her back once more to present her naked backside to the Viking. Her Viking. Her handstrembled on the railing as she felt the tip of his rock-hard length nestle against the petals of her sex.
Slowly, he pressed forwards. Agonizingly slowly.
“Gods, Hakon, do it!” she urged.“Take me!”
Sif heard his low chuckle in her ear, and he drove forwards, hard, sinking the full length of his shaft inside her. Her knees buckled, and Hakon held her hips firmly as pleasure blossomed inside the deepest parts of her.
“Sacred—” The rest of Sif’s ecstatic cry was cut off as Hakon drove into her relentlessly, again and again and again. Even as the waves of her first orgasm ran through her shuddering body, she was overcome by a second, and then the surges of pleasure seemed to blur, and the entirety of Sif’s world shrank to encompass only the feel of the wooden railing under her hands, the moonlight shimmering on the water, and above all else, the rapturous pleasure of being rammed by Hakon’s powerful cock.
Sif was afraid she might pass out and fall. She would have fallen, had it not been for her Viking’s powerful hands grasping her hips. Then, she could feel something change in the manner of Hakon’s rough taking of her. His thrusts seemed to be more urgent, driving harder, as if he was climbing towardssomething higher, and then she could feel her own body respond and climb with him…until finally, gloriously, Hakon sent a stream of cum into her battered pussy, just as she clamped down on his cock in a final convulsion of ecstasy, and the two of them were lost in the graceful downwards arc of post-orgasmic bliss.
Hakon brushed aside Sif’s golden hair, kissed the base of her neck, and gently withdrew.
“I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.” He smiled, pulling up his breeches. “You must think me some youngling bedding his first wench, to be so swift. I promise you, I will take greater care the next time we couple. Which I hope will be later tonight,” he added.
Sif adjusted her clothing, her mind working furiously.Oh, gods and goddesses, what have you done? Foolish girl! How are you supposed to tell him now?
“I…I have matters I must attend to,” she blurted, aware of how foolish she sounded. “I’ll see you as soon as I can, but for now I must go.”
Hakon lifted a hand as if to stop her, but Sif said desperately, “Hakon,please,” and something in hertone of voice caused him to drop his hand. Deeply unsettled in her spirit, Sif rushed off into the night.
***
It was a thoughtful, meditative Hakon who meandered his way from the shore towards the doors of the Swinging Hammer. Just as he mounted the steps, the doors burst open, and Hakon had to step to the side to avoid the body hurtling through the air like a runaway battering ram. His gaze followed the crumpled form as it bounced down the steps then Hakon sighed as he recognized the fellow.
“Gods above and below, Hvitserk,” he said, stepping quickly down the stairs and helping the man to his feet. “My brother only just got back. Would you have his first night home be an all-out fight?”
The recently tossed man made a show of brushing off his tunic and trousers before squaring his shoulders towards the doors once more. “Gunnar left this place owing me money, and I’ll see the debt repaid or the man humbled, by Thor!” Hvitserk announced to the night.
Hakon laid a placatory hand on the outraged man’s shoulder. “Hvitserk,” he said, shaking his head, “I was there that night, remember? I stood witness for my brother. My brother’s dog was nowhere near your cow when it took a fright and broke its leg. The dog was on a lead, attached to my brother’s hand. That was the judgement of the Thing, all those years ago. Let it go, man! You’ll get nothing but bruises for your trouble.”
“You’re all the same, you bloody Jomschildren,” snarled Hvitserk. “You act like a bunch of jumped-up little princelings with the sun shining out of your arses. I will have justice.”
“What you’ll have is a sore head,” warned Hakon. “I’ve heard enough out of you. Stay away, Hvitserk, or you’ll be down for the night.”
“Talk is cheap,” retorted Hvitserk. He surged forwards, only to be staggered by a jab in the nose from Hakon’s left hand, followed by a sweeping right hook that connected with the point of his chin. The loudmouth drunk was unconscious before he hit the ground.
“Talkischeap,” agreed Hakon. He pulled the unconscious man away from where he might be stepped on then laid the fellow on his side. “But we’ll hear no more talking out of you this night, I reckon.” After checking to make sure the man was stillbreathing, Hakon straightened up and entered the Hammer.
“What of the boy?”came the sound of a host of voices raised in song as he opened the door.
“The lad was raised in Ran’s Fjord, born to serve a Sea-Lord, with ne’er a siiiiiiiight of the Jarl’s daughter!”sang Gunnar Brynnson, enthusiastically, if not quite in tune.
“What of the girl?”sang the rest of the company of the Hammer.
Hakon interjected, before his brother could butcher the next line.“The lass was high and noble born, raised to a life of hail and horn, with ne’er a siiiiiiiiiight of the lowly lad!”
