Ægir's Woman - Kirsty's Story

Not that in her time as an apprentice to her mother as healer and midwife, she had not had ample opportunity to acquaint herself with the basics of the act. Still knowing how something was done, watching a stallion cover a mare, or even the occasional glimpse of a drunken customer and barmaid had not adequately prepared her for all that being a 'wife' meant.

Especially since she learned that she was not merely Eirik's wife but his brothers as well. The girl who had thought perhaps to die a maiden had not one barbarian husband, but three. She smiled as she saw the youngest brother Balder stand and walk towards her. They had become more than merely lovers, husband and wife, friends almost.

He was the only one that spoke even a bit of her language, though she caught wisps of the Saxon tongue from his brothers, she was not sure if they realized she spoke it as well as her own.

He was stunning. Much taller than the men of her village. His muscles bulged in ways that she had never imagined other than on a horse. It was his long blond hair, so different than her own that spun its web about her heart. More than one night, she had spent with his head between her bosoms as she ran her fingers through it after they made love.

He smiled as he knelt next to her, handing her a bowl of the stew, it was the same most nights. She had dared not ask what was in it. Greasy and heavy, but food was food, especially after a hard days travel. She took a bite with her fingers and forced it down though she knew it would sit upon her stomach like a stone until morning.

Balder brushed her hair back from her face as he sat upon the cold, hard ground beside her, "Eirik has decided that this night it shall be Einar who shares your favors."

The way that he seemed to force the words out made her feel as if he was no more pleased than she was at this sudden turn of events. "Why?" she asked as she stopped with the next bite poised at her lips.

He shrugged, "Does it matter? Eirik says, we all do." He sighed as he avoided making eye contact, "That includes you especially, dear wife."

Bronwyn was not sure what to say. Her position as the new wife of the Jarl might be vastly above her old as the bastard and Devil's own. One thing she had learned in her limited time upon this earth, a woman's fate was never her own. Be she high or base borne; her path was set by men from the moment of her birth until her death. Hers was simply to endure.

She nodded in answer and expected him to walk back and join his brothers, but still, he lingered as if there was more. After a long silence, he stood up and was about to walk away when he turned, and his eyes met hers, "Einar is not an easy man, Bronwyn."

She swallowed back a twinge of apprehension at his warning as she fought to keep the food down. She would not be beaten. This was as good a chance as any she had ever hoped for a new life. And while it might not be her childhood dream of the lordling father come to claim his long lost daughter, it was more than she had dared hope for.

Her gentleness and keen mind had won over Balder easily. She even saw chinks in Eirik's cold demeanor. She would find a way with this brother too. Discover what it took to melt this Norseman's heart of ice as she was his brothers. She would make way for herself, a new life, a better one, as much as any woman could. So 'fights alone' had better beware. He was about to meet the 'pure breasted' one...and she was playing for keeps.

Despite her earlier resolve, Kirsty found herself reading and re-reading the same passage. She could not concentrate. Those piercing eyes seemed to be almost reaching across thousands of miles for her. Damn it; she did not need or want this complication. Or did she? Had she not thought earlier about wanting even a small taste of passion? Maybe this man was her answer. He was certainly far enough away to be no real threat to her safe little existence.

She debated it all for several long minutes before dashing off a short response that thanked Svein for his message and opened the door, just a crack, for further communication. It was barely dusk, but she was tired, tomorrow was another day at work, and honestly, she was horny. Far more so than usual. She powered off her tablet and laid it back on the nightstand as Little Miss curled up at the foot of her bed.

Kirsty felt the sexual energy strumming along nerve endings, dancing from one erogenous zone to another as if her body was on fire. She often got aroused when reading her books. Heck, she had masturbated more in the past two months than her whole life up to that point. But this was a new level of need.

As she lay back against the pillow and closed her eyes, Kirsty allowed her hands to slip beneath her oversized t-shirt. They kneaded and squeezed her decent sized tits for several minutes until her breath was coming in short gasps. Still, it was not enough; her fingers began to pinch and twist her nipples that were throbbing and begging for attention. She stifled a moan as she felt the electric shock straight down her less than flat tummy to pool between her thighs.

They fell open as one hand followed the path of those tingles and under the elastic waistband of her knickers. They are not as bad as the ones favored by Bridgette in that movie, but they are not far off. Boy shorts was the popular term, but since no one would be seeing them, she might as well dress for comfort rather than sex appeal.

Her fingers brushed through the pubic hairs that proclaimed her a true redhead until they found her clitoris. It is already engorged and pulsing with need as she began to massage her outer lips, the indirect stimulation designed to prolong her pleasure. She fought the urge for a couple of minutes to take things further, to rub against the nub itself.

Edging, it was something she had learned at that site, that oh so naughty site. Her breath caught as her nipple puckered even tighter. One thought led inevitably to another. His face. Those intense fucking eyes, she bet they were blue. Norway. Her Vikings. His presence was much too overpowering to be sweet and considerate Balder. Was he Eirik, the one born to rule and lead? Or Einar, the one who fought alone?

Something about the man said that he was destined to rule. What would it feel like to be on the receiving end of that stare? Would her knees tremble as her fingers were now, coming closer and closer to her swollen love button? Would she be able to catch her breath even? No, no way, she could not do that even now, just thinking about the man.

Her whole body arched off the bed as she cried out. Her orgasm had taken her so suddenly, by such surprise, without any warning that she had not even been able to stifle the scream. It was, without a doubt, the most powerful one of her whole life. Her whole body was still tingling, alive with desire, and needier than she could ever remember being.

"Kirsty, are you okay?" came the sound of her flatmate. She did not sound close, perhaps at the top of the landing.

Thinking quickly, she yelled out, "I'm fine. Little Miss just sank her claws into me is all. I'm sorry if we bothered you."

"As long as you are fine, don't worry about it. The cat can sleep up here with us if she is bothering you, you know we adore her too," called Becca, a woman she had known since university, her flatmate for six years and someone she still would consider more of an acquaintance than a friend.

"Thanks, but we're good now," Kirsty could only hope the woman did not insist on coming down to make sure for herself.

She was relieved when Becca replied, "Well, good night, then."

Kirsty waited to hear the soft footfall that confirmed she was indeed going back up the stairs to the room that she shared with their other flatmate, Lauren. A couple of months back, the two women had confirmed what she had suspected for some time, that they were a couple. Not that it bothered Kirsty, she had no problem with them being lesbians. It was just a reminder of her loneliness, feeling like a third wheel even at home.

Maybe she should think about looking for a new flat. But where would she find anything as decent, safe, and close to the hospital? Especially for the rent, she was paying here. So, like other things in her life, Kirsty just let it slide.

She really should have caught on to this submissive thing sooner, considering how much she hated and deplored confrontation. Whenever any of her friends asked where she wanted to go, what she wanted to do, she always found a way to avoid even that simple a question. Unless it was work, she just did not like making decisions.

Even one as simple as whether she should get up and take another cold shower or roll over and try to go to sleep. She pondered the dilemma for a couple of minutes, but that only made things worse as she realized how horny, there was no more polite word for it than that, how horny she was. Worse than she could ever remember being and she had not even read one of the naughtier bits of the book tonight.

The explanation was obvious...him. Her blue-eyed, she was convinced they were blue, Viking fisherman. The more she lay in bed and thought about him the worse it got, until with a "Darnation," she pulled herself from her comfortable bed, put away the leftovers, and stood for several long minutes underneath the shower as cold as she could take it.

Why did it not help? When she finally got out, her nipples were harder from the almost freezing water pounding on them, and the rough terry cloth of the towel made her want to scream. She dared only pat down there. She knew if she rubbed herself dry, it would lead to more rubbing of another kind and she had already disturbed her flatmates once this night.

Besides since when had she ever? Twice in one day? She really must stop the edging. That had to be it. Yes, she would stop the edging, maybe even cut back on her reading, she decided as she went back to her room and climbed in bed. She tossed and turned uncomfortably for quite a while.

Even when she did finally fall asleep, it was dream-filled and restless. She had had these erotic dreams before, but never like this. Blue eyes piercing her soul, demanding things she did not think she was capable of giving — things she wanted to taste and feel so very badly, though.

The hardest part was her dream Dom finally had a face, but it was not one of the hard-bodied male models from the cover of her raunchy e-books. It was his. Her rough fisherman. Svein.