Viking, me.

Chapter 7 - Somethings coming!

Throwing myself down on a pile of animal pelts I sobbed into the fur. How God? How can I keep him from doing this? It feels so sinful. But what he did felt exhilarating and sent thrills up my body.
The door swung open and slammed closed again. My tears had stopped and I turned around, resting on one elbow. Sven had strode to my feet and towered over me. His hair a little windswept and his eyes glinting in the dark. My instincts told me he wasn't trough with me. I swallowed slowly.
I remember the day I fist met him. I just had spent that entire conversation with my grandmother now past, thinking about his roughed handsomeness, and I can't help but fall victim to his body now.
He knelt down over me, his muscular arms flexing, he held is own weight over me. My hand was taken in his and he pressed it to his lips. I just stared at him. He left my hand above my head and glided his hand down the contour of my arm and stopped at my breast. He lent in close to my ear, his breathing slow and normal sounding.
"Kiss me" he said his request caught me off guard.
His hand continued down to my knee and he hitched my skirt up. His face hovered just an inch from mine. My knees felt like unsettled water, or a wind tossed leaf.
His skin against mine was a strange sensation. He circled a spot with his thumb.
"Kiss me!" He demanded. His voice harsh. He knelt over me using his now free hand to yank my chin up to his lips. He trailed hard kisses against my neck and up to my chin and then my mouth. He commanded my body and forced a pleasured moan pass my lips when he slid his hand up to the top of my thigh.
He slid his tongue into my mouth and
the shock of his tender flicks on my tongue, had be stolen to his demand.
"Your mine, and I'll have you when I want you" his words were growled out but I wasn't too concerned right now. Lost in his lust I couldn't help but respond naturally.
"I've got to go, get ready!" He said pushing up and getting up for the floor and grabbing a cloak from the floor.
I let my breath leave my lungs, what has just happened? He walked from the house and I sat up. God almighty why? Guilt seeped in and a realisation of the words that were exchanged.
I miss home, with the chasid kisses on my cheek from the man who was courting me. This is quite different.
"Hurry it up!" He called I scurried up off the floor and followed him out he door. Coming out into the day light again, I was greeted by Sven and two other Nordic men.
"Hun er veldig vakker sven!" One said sliding his rough hand around the back of my neck. He laughed and looked at Sven. I glanced at him, his eyes stony and set on this mans throat. As if he'd be ready to slit it
Sven shoved his arm and his hand Came away from my neck. He grabbed my hand and quickly and rushes us off and down into the main road.
Within seconds of reaching the village centre there was a ruckus. Men and woman dressed like Knights, but with out the clinky metal helmets.
Sven had bundled up my hands and my arms were now wrapped around his arm.
"Do women fight?" I ask unable to tear my eyes away. Sven nodes and looks on. Dumbfounded by the customs I can't take my eyes off the women dressed for war. There was a hush and the man from the boat stepped out from the large thrown house.
Glancing sideways to Sven his eyebrows furrowed and he uttered something under his breath.

"Something's coming" he whispers.
The grey haired man rose his arms and spoke in a grand tone. His words meanings lost on me but the people were rallied, shouting in agreement.

Sven's voice rang clear above the rest, unsure of what he said but the people stopped completely and turned to look at him. I itched under the staring eyes.
Sven kept talking and people joined in with cheers.