Loki's Daughters (19 page)

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Authors: Delle Jacobs

BOOK: Loki's Daughters
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"Thor's hammer. Gone. They got everything." Voices around him echoed his thoughts.

"Every damn boot and tunic."

"They can't have gotten far. Come on." Egil hobbled over the pebbly shore, and Ronan followed, quickly realizing how tender his feet had grown through an entire winter of wearing boots.

"Ow! Damn!" Tanni stumbled, lifted his foot, hopping.

"Ow!" Shouts, grumbles, oaths colored the air.

"Ouch! Hel's tits! Thorns!"

Stinging pain stabbed Ronan’s foot. He bent to examine it. "Burrs!" He yanked the barb out of his skin.

Ahead of them, the trail was littered with burrs, scattered like grain sown in the fields. And there they stood, naked as the gods had made them, in the chilly, bright day, and nothing for it but to set out walking, very carefully.

The rocky trail soon smoothed into fine dirt, and the scattered burrs grew scarcer as they came closer to the village. The path widened as the valley spread out and trees thinned.

"Let's hurry," said Egil.

Ronan spread out his hands as sudden inspiration seized him. "Nay, let's not. Odd, that they should pick such a ploy. Maybe there's something they're curious about."

"What?"

"The obvious. Or at least, it's going to get obvious. Take a look." He pointed down the path. "They're hiding in the bushes to watch something."

Egil slowed, checking out the shrubbery ahead. "Aye, there's something they've come to see."

"Damn women," snorted Bjorn. "Got no respect, that’s what."

"No fear, I’d say," Olav retorted. "We've been too easy on them. They need something to worry about. A good scare."

"Aye," Tanni agreed, suddenly hopping on one foot again, picking at his sole. "Let’s shake them up a bit."

Aye, it was about time. Time they really got even. "Then let's show it to them. Think, men. Think about those tits."

"What do you want to do, Ronan?" asked Egil with a laugh. "Start an orgy?"

"Just show off. Use your imagination. Tell me you haven't thought about what's under those kirtles. Just think about it. Imagine yourself with one of them in your arms, what you'd be kissing. Show them what they're missing."

Hearty chortles spread through the group as they marched, Ronan at the lead. He figured there wasn't a one of them that didn't have plenty to display.

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

"They're coming. Hide." Selma dashed up the path and ducked into the bushes at the edge of the ash grove, gasping for breath.

Arienh winced at a bad idea that was getting worse. The men had discovered the plot far too soon. They weren't ready, but she seemed to be the only one worried about it. Not even Birgit. But then, Birgit had always been ridiculously daring.

Raucous male shouts came from the forest path.

"Maybe we should go, Birgit," she urged, tugging on her sister's arm.

Birgit shrugged her off. "Not yet. I've got to see who wins."

"I'll concede. I'll do Mildread's laundry. I’ll do it for a month. Come on, they'll see us here."

No one seemed to hear her. Birgit shook her head and peered through the bushes, squinting hard as if that somehow might improve her sight.

The very ground pulsed with heavy footfalls. Naked men tromped around the bend in the path, Ronan in the lead. Arienh gulped.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Birgit, straining her eyes.

"That they're all nude," Elli whispered, her eyes big as daisies.

"Well, I know that. How big are they?"

Selma craned her neck around Elli to see through the dense shrubbery. "Don't look so big to me. Maybe the cold does shrink them."

Elli shoved Selma aside so she could peek through the opening. "Well, they've got cold enough in that water to shrink them right off. How can they stand it?"

"It's probably nothing to them," said Mildread with a quiver in her voice. "Maybe Arienh is right."

Arienh tugged at Birgit again. "They're Northmen, remember." By Arienh's experience, it would make no difference at all. Ronan was no bean sprout, even in the freezing rain.

"I heard Vikings never bathed. That's what Father Hewil said." Elli scowled, yet couldn't take her eyes off the men.

Mildread grumbled something under her breath. "I'd say he was wrong," she said. "Maybe we should-"

"The question is, who wins the bet?" Selma asked, still peeking around Elli. "They look pretty large to me."

"Come to think of it-oh, dear."
 
Mildread grabbed Elli's arm.

"Oh, dear, what?" asked Birgit. She stood up, trying to see.

"They're-erect."

"Erect?" Birgit strained to see.

"Aye. As in-erect," Arienh replied. "Get down, Birgit. They'll see us." She tugged her down by her arm. "I think Mildread and Elli will be doing lots of laundry."

"A month's worth," agreed Selma, her eyes wide with fright. "Let's get out of here."

Mildread bolted.

With a bevy of squeals, Selma and Elli spun around and scurried down the path.

The strutting men broke into a trot.

Arienh's anxious gaze quickly scanned the lot of them. The closer they got, the bigger their organs became. Her eyes caught Ronan’s attention fixed directly on her. She gulped. "Come on, Birgit, let's go."

"Wait, Arienh. I want to see, too."

"You don't understand. They're-they're coming, Birgit. And they're not just nude, they're-erect. And really big. Can't you see it?"

"Of course not. Are you sure?"

"Birgit!" Arienh tugged at Birgit's arm, but Birgit just stood there.

The pack of naked men marched closer, coming within Birgit's range of sight. Birgit’s pale green eyes rounded as her jaw dropped open. She froze where she stood.
 

A battle cry roared out, like berserkers on the attack as the Vikings dashed forward. Arienh's courage failed. She dropped her sister's arm and fled. She screamed as Ronan's huge arm snagged her waist and swung her up into his arms, then over his shoulder. Her fists pummeled futilely against his back.

"Run, Birgit!" she screamed.

Birgit spun around to escape. Her foot caught a rock in the uneven trail, and she fell, arms flying. Egil leapt and caught her, taking both of them rolling onto the dirt path.

"Let me go!" Arienh screamed, suddenly more fearful for the sister she had deserted than herself. "Let me go! She's hurt!"

Ronan laughed as he knelt beneath the trees, among a sprinkle of old leaves and new violets. He swung her to the ground, pinning her with his massive thighs. "Nay, she's not. Egil has her."

"Has her?" Arienh pushed against his chest as he leaned over her. "He's on top of her. Let me go."

Ronan glanced back. "Looks now more like she's on top of him."

Egil's great rumble of laughter burst forth. His voice boomed. "Not the usual way for a tumble, girl."

"Stop him! He's-he's-"

"Naked?" Still Ronan grinned as he imprisoned her among the violets with their conspiratory heady aroma. "As he has no clothes to put on, you should not be surprised."

"But he'll hurt her. He'll-"

"Easy, love. Egil will not hurt her. I have no clothes either. Don't you worry about that?"
 
Ronan leaned his magnificent body over her, his eyes grew dusky, his voice gravelly. "Did you get to see what you wanted, sweet? Is it enough to satisfy you, do you think? I'll show you more if you like."

As if there were anything she hadn't seen.

With her face captured between his hands, Ronan teased at her lips with his tongue, and nipped with his teeth. "Like that, love? I think you do. You're touching me, Arienh. I like it when you touch me. It feels like a caress. Is it a caress, love?"

She jerked her hand away from the enticing ridge of his spine just at the very moment she realized she had been fingering it. The hand floated downward past the blocky bone of his hip and the hard curve of buttocks.

"Even better," he said, sounding like he had gravel in his throat. "I think you like to touch me, don't you?"

Arienh flung her hands into the air and balled her fists, determined not to let her fingers touch his flesh again. "You are so arrogant," she said with a snarl. "Let me go."

"Let you go? A prank for a prank, my darling."

"But-"

His voice became a husky purr. "Don't you think a man can contain himself when he should?"

"It isn't very funny." She lay still, her fists balled, unable to move without touching him again. And she would not.

"Neither are burrs in the foot, if it's your foot. But 'tis a dangerous game you're playing this time, girl. 'Tis a good thing it's with men who won't do you harm."

"Let me go."

"Soon. I'm not finished yet." Ronan drew her tightly against his body, molded to him from thigh to breast. His hard erection pressed against her thigh so that she could discern its entire length and shape. His lips descended to hers. Softly, gently, he ferreted out the urgent passion she had been burying, exposing it for what it was.

She should make him let her go. She should break this bond. But it was so sweet, tingly. The tip of his tongue caressed like a feather, as if it tickled her whole body, all the way down to her toes.

She moaned. Sweet saints, why had she done that?

That wasn’t all she was doing. Her hands escaped her control again, eager to touch every part of him. She traced the elegantly masculine curves of his spine and back. Hungry, hungry for all of him.

A tremor shuddered through him, and his body flexed and tensed, grinding into hers while his knee forced her thighs apart. His eyes deepened, dark, like a storm out to sea. Anchoring her head between his hands, he drove a deep kiss into her, voracious, as if he meant to consume her. Deep in her core, something wild stirred and sprang to life. Something wild, meant to devour him in turn.

"Touch me again, love." His words were a ragged whisper.

What was he doing to her? He had the power to reach inside her and control her.

Then, his hands let go as he raised up and hovered above her, touching only where their lips joined. His tongue still probed. Excited tremors still rippled through her. He held her prisoner only with his kiss.

She could do it, break the kiss. Just stop. She could. Just stop. It was not so wonderful that she could not, just... quit... just... she could not let go.

His eyes squeezed closed as another shudder rippled through him. With a reluctant sigh, he sat away from her, drawing deep, ragged breaths.

Arienh sat up, staring, too stunned to move.

"It was meant to be a joke," he said between gulps of air. "I’m sorry."

Sorry? A joke? It was more like-she didn’t know what it was like.

"Go on, leave," he said.

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