Page 16 of Bats Out of Hell (Vikings Rock #1)

“T ell me…” Kenna murmured against the base of Haakon’s neck. Her eyes felt heavy and she feared a deep and dreamless sleep she would not wake up from was encroaching. “About your gods.”

“You want a saga?” he asked quietly.

“If you have one.”

“I have many. What would you like to hear about?”

She paused. “A love story.”

“A love story.” He chuckled, his chest shifting against hers, and his body hair catching on her nipples. “I will think of one.”

He was quiet for a moment, then, “I will tell you of Freya, the Goddess of War.”

“A goddess of war?”

“ Ja , she is a fine warrior viqueen with a chariot drawn by beautiful, strong, wild cats. She liked to race her brother, always determined to beat him.” He paused and kind of huffed. “As determined as her father, Njord, the God of the Sea, was that day he tipped us into the water and smashed up our boat.”

Kenna was quiet, imagining a wild, Viking woman, a viqueen, racing along in a chariot pulled by wild cats. It was quite the image.

Haakon ran his hand up her back as though checking her skin for returning heat. She pressed against him, needing all the warmth she could get.

“On Earth, in our realm,” Haakon went on. “A man lived, called ‘Otta.’ He was a simple man, with farmland, and worshipped Freya so much, he built a delicate and detailed stone shrine to make many offerings to her. Freya adored Otta because he was devoted to her, loved her, and so she looked down upon him often.” He paused. “Are you still awake?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He ran his hand to the small of her back and pressed her closer, his legs tightening in their twist with hers.

Kenna wriggled her fingers and toes. Life was returning to them.

“But one day, Otta found himself in trouble. His land was under threat. Others wanted to take it from him. He had no heirs and no recollection of his mother and father or any of his ancestors. So Freya came down to Earth and promised to help him, as he was such a pious follower. Otta was of course delighted to meet his goddess and even when she told him she must disguise him as a boar, he agreed.”

“Why did he have to be disguised?”

“Because she was taking him to another realm, Asgard, and he was not dead. For Freya is the Goddess of War and with that, she is the ruler of the Valkyrie and their job is to take the fallen to Valhalla.” He kissed the top of her head again, his lips lingering. “The Valkyrie are very beautiful, very strong and wise, just like you.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him.

His eyes were a softer blue than she’d seen them before and the frown line between them had gone.

“What happened when they got to Asgard?” Kenna asked, becoming very aware of his hands gently smoothing over her skin.

“Ah, that is where the story is interesting. They came across a cave, the home of a seer, and once inside, Freya demanded the seer give Otta a memory potion to learn of his lineage so that he could save his home and his lands.”

“And did the seer do that?”

“ Ja , not only did she do it, the potion revealed that Otta was a direct descendent of Frey, Freya’s own brother. This, of course, meant he could keep his land and all his possessions. He was a man of great standing. So he returned to Earth to live out his days happily.”

“I thought you said it was a love story.” She set her hand tentatively on the curve of Haakon’s hip, the warmth of his flesh seeping into her palm and fingers. Thankfully, her shivering had subsided. She was indeed coming back to life.

“It is a love story,” he whispered. “It is about two souls living in different realms who find each other, who worship, help, and respect each other. And of course, when Otta had lived a full and happy life, he was taken by Freya to her great hall, Sessrumnir, where he still sits today, at her side, as her lover and her equal.”

“‘As her lover and equal’?”

“ Ja , they are lovers now. Utterly devoted to each other.” He paused. “Freya is not just beautiful, but also powerful and magical and skilled in many things. Just like you are.”

“You did not want to marry me for my hunting skills and I am certainly not magical.”

“It is true, I wanted you because to me, you are like Freya is to Otta. I loved you the minute I saw you, my beautiful Kenna. If you wish for me to create a stone shrine and make sacrifices to you, then I will.”

“That will not be necessary.” She curled her fingers into his hip a little. “No one has ever called me ‘beautiful’ before.”

“Then this entire village is foolish. And it is good my men and I are here.”

She giggled, just a little. “I don’t think anyone in Tillicoulty is foolish.”

“You are beautiful and special,” he said, running his hand up her arm, to her shoulder, then back to her wrist again.

Everywhere he touched left a trail of warm sensation. A shiver of a different kind traveled over her skin.

“I just need you to understand how I feel, Kenna. I need you to promise not to run from me again.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.”

He frowned and swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment as if thinking. “If I hadn’t pulled you from the water, then—”

“I am glad you did, but I wouldn’t have needed saving had you not been chasing me.”

“I wasn’t chasing you.”

“That was how it felt.” Her shoulders stiffened in frustration. “You forced me to marry you. A man I don’t know. A man who only committed to my God yesterday. And then you want to bed me, plant your seed. Of course I ran.” She glared at him. “Wouldn’t Freya have run too? Wouldn’t she have done everything she could to get away?”

“You are right she would have.” He nodded, regretting being the cause of her frustration. “I am lucky not to have been turned into a boar for all eternity.”

“What I am trying to say,” Kenna went on, ignoring the hint of a smile tugging his lips, “is that I have spent my whole life proving that I’m just as capable as my brother, as Bryce, and the other boys, now men, in Tillicoulty. I can hunt and track and swim and run as well as they all can. I can help build a boat, sail and fish too. And while they have never had to prove themselves, they also have never had to worry about a Norseman getting washed up on the beach and claiming them.”

“You… You wish to be a boy?” His eyes widened.

“What? No…I wouldn’t want that, wouldn’t want one of…” She paused and again was aware of his cock between them. It wasn’t completely soft now and she could feel the tip, with the ring, pressing on her leg. “I wouldn’t want the appendage you have. It appears very uncomfortable.”

He chuckled and slipped his hand between their bodies, shifting his cock and moving his hips. “It is true a cock is the downfall of some men. Some use it like a brain, and others become incapacitated when struck violently upon it. The excruciating pain gives their enemy enough time to wield their sword.”

Kenna shifted so her head was on the pillow next to his. She pulled up the fur, glad to be more like herself, though her feet still felt like they had pins jabbing at them.

“That is one reason I don’t wish to be a boy,” she went on. “The other is that I’m as good a fighter and hunter as any man. More so, for I can be quieter, lighter, faster at times. I have good eyes and good hearing and I’m more patient. I do not wish to be seen as weaker than you, seen as a poor, weak girl in need of saving and caring for.”

“I understand.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Do you?”

“ Ja , Viking women would say the same thing to any man who wanted to marry them. Look at my sister, Astrid—she is skilled and independent and likes to be seen as such.”

Kenna was pleased he understood but also surprised. Was he telling the truth? “So you will let me hunt?”

“ Ja .”

“And fish?”

“ Ja .” He paused. “Of course.”

“Good.”

“So you are staying?”

“It depends.”

His face was so close to hers, she could see every swirl and lick of the neck tattoo that ended around his jawline where his stubble began.

“On what?” he asked.

“If you will see me as your equal.” It was a bold demand of a Viking—one who had been a monster to her yesterday, the stuff of nightmares the day before.

“My love,” he said softly, his eyebrows pulling low. “Why would I see you as anything else? Of course you are my equal.”

Her throat tightened with emotion. “Do you mean that? Really?”

“You have seen the two new chairs outside our bedchamber. They are of equal size. We will rule as equals, King and Queen of Tillicoulty, and one day, our lands may expand and so will our people. We will consult on matters, consider each other’s thoughts. I could not do it without you. Every king needs a clever, kind, and brave queen. Me even more so, for I am in a foreign land.”

“I didn’t think. I…” She lifted her hand to hover by his cheek for a moment and then dropped it to her side again. “I thought when you wanted to marry me, you just wanted my body, a supply of heirs, a slave to do your bidding, cleaning, and cooking.”

“That is not our way. That is not the Viking way. Where I am from, women are valued as much as men. Shield-maidens are as important in battle as warriors, and queens can rule alone, without a king, if they should wish.”

“That is true?”

“I promise, in the name of God, it is.” He drew his face closer. His gaze was intense, as though he were seeing right into her mind. His words had filled her soul with warmth the way his flesh had heated her body. He surrounded her, filled her, and it felt more good than bad.

Her fear of him was slipping away. He’d saved her at great peril to himself. And now he wished them to be equals.

“Please don’t run from me again,” he whispered, sliding his hand up to cup her nape. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, not now I’ve finally found you.”

“If you treat me as an equal, I won’t run,” she said quietly, her attention slipping to his wide mouth. “I will stay, here, with you.”

“And this is where I want you. Right here.” He pressed his lips to hers, soft but firm, warm and pliant.

She moaned. Her first kiss was surprisingly pleasant, considering it was a Viking kissing her.

He pulled back slightly and with his eyes closed, he murmured something in a language she didn’t understand.

“What did you say?” she whispered.

“My heart beats for you and only you.” He kissed her again. This time, his slick tongue poked into her mouth and touched hers.

She closed her eyes, her heart rate picked up further, and she curled her toes. A strange, tugging sensation caught her nipples and she pressed her thighs together when the sensation dipped lower.

His breath blew on her cheek and he slanted his head, deepening the kiss. His cock grew harder, pressing into her as he pulled her closer.

She broke the kiss. “Haakon. I do not know how it is in your world, but…”

“But?”

“I am… untouched.”

He frowned and swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. “‘Untouched’?”

“Aye, it is how it should be, how God says it should be on a wedding night.”

“I don’t understand.”

She’d have to spell it out. “I am a virgin, Haakon. No man has even kissed me before, let alone…”

“A virgin. Surely, you have had nights of pleasure during the long winter moons? What else is there to do?”

“No.” She scowled at the very suggestion.

“But I… Not even that one, that man…Bryce? I see how he looks at you.”

“Bryce! No. Definitely not and he doesn’t look at me like anything. He’s a friend is all.”

“Oh, he does look at you. I know my competition.” He traced the length of her nose with the tip of his finger, then over her lips and to her chin. He kept her face lifted to his. “He wishes to be more than a friend.”

“It is not what I wish.”

“But you wish to be more than my friend?” He raised his eyebrows.

“It seems I am already more than your friend, that is what you insisted upon in return for the safety of my people. I would sacrifice anything for their lives, including my own.”

“Your willingness to sacrifice is honorable, another thing that makes me desire you so.”

“You desire me…now?” Her stomach clenched at the thought of him entering her, of planting his seed with his big, pierced cock. She ached from her brush with death and her muscles pained her from shivering. She was sure his wild bedding routine would finish her off entirely.

“I desire nothing more than to enter you right now and stay there until night falls and day breaks again, until we are both exhausted from pleasure and our bodies slick with sweat, but…” He pulled back and tucked the fur closer around her neck. “Your ankle needs attention and I know that you need warm broth and rest.”

She nodded stiffly, relief washing over her, but at the same time, she was intrigued at the thought of him entering her and giving her sweaty pleasure. “That is true. I am not quite fully recovered.”

“But maybe,” he said.

“Aye?”

“No. It is not how it should be.”

“What isn’t?”

“I was going to tell you it will happen this night, that you should prepare yourself for me. But I wish to prove that we are equals and so…” His jaw tensed and he stood from the bed. His cock was hard and long, tapping up against his abdomen.

“So?” She tore her attention from his erection, a quiver going through her.

“So we will not join as one until you are ready. Until you instigate it.” He clamped his lips tightly and then sniffed, his nostrils flaring.

“But…what if I never…?” Which was a distinct possibility. “Want you.”

“Then I will not have lawful heirs.” He turned and reached for his pants. “Which will pain me enormously, but if it saves you pain, saves you from doing something you do not want to do, then it will be worth it. I will bear it.” He paused and threw his hand upward. “And I am sure my new God will give me strength as I forsake all other women for my tight-legged wife.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to say. He’d stolen any words she might have thrown at him. Never in all eternity would she have thought her new giant of a Viking husband would commit to such a thing.

Surely, he was lying.

He reached for his tunic, dragged it on, then threw another log on the fire. “Wait there, in the warmth. I will return with broth and tincture for your ankle. I don’t know where Astrid has got to.”