Ravish Her Completely (9 page)

Stian didn’t look back to see if Agata listened to him. She was a stubborn, strong woman, but he needed her to leave and find safety. He could handle these men that thought to come here and take from him. It didn’t matter that he was outnumbered or if he died tonight. He would take out as many as he could, and do so, sure with the serenity in him that his wife had gotten away. There was no doubt that if they killed Stian they’d kill Agata. But before they took her life they’d torture her, rape her, and wouldn’t stop until she no longer breathed.

These men, the villagers he’d grown up with, were cruel to anyone that crossed them, and wasn’t a part of their village. They would consider Agata an outsider. It didn’t matter that Stian had claimed her as his wife, because he’d been banished, and was therefore an outsider, too. But he’d known since the moment they told him to leave that they’d come for him. It was just a matter of when.

He swung his sword with a mighty roar, and sliced the man that came forward right through the middle of the belly. His enemy fell to his knees, looked right at Stian, and started gurgling blood as he cursed him before he took his last breath. The redness spewed from his mouth, covered his chin and chest, but Stian couldn’t take the pleasure in watching him die. The man fell to the ground face first, and Stian started cutting down the attackers.

Left, right, decapitated, a gaping wound through the arm. He attacked with fervor, didn’t stop until blood coated the air in a thick, tangy and metallic scent and flavor. The liquid covered Stian’s chest and face, and as he turned to take out one of the men coming forward the tip of his assailant’s knife sliced through Stian’s cheek.

Stian wiped the blood from his face and moved to take out the second man. Stian stared at the body before him, and felt no remorse over taking yet another life. He slowly lifted his gaze away from the corpse, and slid it up his bloodstained legs covered in leather, over his chest, and snarled at the fact he had his enemies’ blood on him.

He curled his hand that didn’t hold his sword into a fist and clenched his jaw. He had only been with his woman for such a short time, but these bastards thought to take her from him. Even faced with this impending battle all he could think about was Agata, praying to the gods that she’d been smart enough to leave, to listen to him.

“Fuck,” he gritted out. He straightened and ran a hand over his face, feeling the mixture of sweat and blood covering his palm.

An arrow came flying through the air, and he lifted his sword and blocked it. He swung his sword with a mighty roar, and sliced it clean through the man that came charging forward. Stian did this over and over again, taking men down that came to strike at him, feeling rage and power move through him. Another body fell to the ground, and another, and another.

Stian loved a good fight, loved the feeling of defending himself, and now the woman he cared for. But Stian should have been prepared, because he’d known they wouldn’t stop if the elder died. He was foolish, and this was his fault, his doing.

A man gave a mighty yell, swung out his ax, intending to take Stian’s head clean off, but Stian was ready. He blocked the ax with his sword, and right when he would have stumbled back from the force the man’s head fell to the ground. Stian stared at the headless body, and lifted his gaze to see Agata standing there, an ax in her hand, and blood sprayed along her body.

He pulled her behind him, and cut down another man coming after him with one mighty swing of his sword. The men around him saw how many he’d taken down, and he would give them more pain, take more of their lives. A few in the distance stopped, looking unsure as they stared at their fallen comrades in arms.

“Come on, come after me. Try and take what’s mine,” Stian shouted and slammed his fist on his chest. Rage, adrenaline, and excitement coursed through him. A gust of wind picked up and moved Stian’s hair. He felt Agata breathing hard behind him, and he felt pride his woman had taken out a threat, but was pissed she hadn’t listened.

With the violence surrounding them, Stian focused on the man that was closest to him, the one that seemed like he had big balls and wanted to be the one to end this. He would soon taste the tip of his sword. He moved forward at the same time Stian lifted his sword and grinned.

“Stian,” Agata said in an urgent voice. He pushed her back a few feet, and the two men charged forward, their swords raised, and their voices ringing out loud and clear. Their swords clashed together in a ring of metal against metal.

“You actually thought to come here, take my woman and destroy me?” Stian said in a fierce voice. The other man and moved back a step. Stian swung out again, but the man was strong, determined. Stian grunted and growled out, wanting this man to lie lifeless beneath his feet like the other his men that thought they could take from him again.

“You should have been put to death when you were a child, not banished.” The other man swung his sword and grunted when Stian blocked the move.

They went at this for several moments. Blood and sweat dripped into Stian’s eyes, but he refused to stop, refused to back down. Stian thought of his life as a child, the abuse he went through, the fact no one in the village helped him, and thought to send him away because he’d had enough of the torment. They’d never given him a chance to explain why he’d done what he’d done, even if they’d already known.

With a mighty roar he sliced his blade through the other man’s throat and watched him fall to the ground. For several seconds he stared the man’s blood spew out of his throat and cover the ground. The other few men now retreated, accepting their defeat. He turned when he felt Agata touch his back. She had wide eyes, looked shocked, but she cupped his cheeks and leaned up and kissed him on the lips.

“I told you to leave,” he said against her mouth. Gore and death surrounded them, but having this woman beside him, pressed up against him, had warmth and hope filling him. He was pissed, angry that she didn’t listen to him, but pride filled him as well because his woman hadn’t buckled under the threat. She’d come out and fought beside him, and he loved her for it. Yes, Stian Dagmar actually felt
love
, and it felt pretty incredible.

****

Agata stood in front of the sea. The wind blew her hair around, and she held the satchel of herbs in her hand. She looked at the water, at the mountains surrounding them, then turned and looked at Stian who stood beside her. He had a cut on his cheek, deep, but not bleeding any longer. Blood covered them both, and she felt like death surrounded them, but she felt free.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” she said in English, knowing he probably wouldn’t understand all of that.

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “Death lasts with you, even after the fact.”

She’d only caught a portion of that, but understood him enough and nodded. “I know that, Stian.”

He pulled her into a hug, and she rested her head on his chest.

“I don’t want to leave, Stian,” Agata whispered.

Stian pulled her back and had this hard look on his face.

“Truly?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” Pulling back from him and staring at the sea, she tightened her hand on the satchel and took a deep breath. Opening the small bag, she scented the herbs right away. They were pungent, spicy, and reminded her that if she took them right now she could be back home.

A home that offers you nothing.
At least in this life you can be someone, learn to care about someone so deeply it take your breath away and makes you want to fight for him.
And without thinking, she dumped the contents into the sea, and watched as the water drank it up like a thirsty man.

“What was that?” he asked.

“My past,” she said without taking her eyes off of the sea. She turned and faced him, smiled, and knew this was where she belonged. “And now I have my future.”

Four years later

Stian looked at his female, his wife, the woman that had captured his heart so long ago. Things had certainly changed for the better in his life since he’d met Agata. They no longer lived in the small one room hut, but had a bigger place that was safe and had plenty of room for their children to grow and run in.

He’d built their new home by hand, making sure she had a view of the sea, but had the protection of the forest. They were miles away from the village, and after that incident where he should have slaughtered all of those men that came to hurt what was his, he’d found a little compassion that Agata willed up in him and let them live, most of them that was.

He ran his hands up and down her back, his still-aching erection pressing against her moist center. He’d pounded her good and hard, claimed her and made her cry out for more. But even her whimpering for release hadn’t made him go slow or soft, hadn’t made him relent.

“My wife, you seem tired,” he said and smiled. She rolled over and grinned at him, but elbowed him in the chest. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. Her blonde hair was longer than it had been, done in braids, and sweaty from their fucking.

“That’s what happens when my husband nearly fucks the life out of me,” she said and grinned, thrusting her ass toward his cock.

“Who said anything about us being done?” He nuzzled her neck, and growled out at the fact his cock started to harden once more. He moved back enough that he could look at her bottom. The globes were big and round, and his hands itched to spank her until redness coated them. “I know you want me stretching and filling you with my seed. Or maybe,” he said softer and kissed the side of her throat. “Maybe you want me stretching your pretty ass with my dick.”

She moaned out and thrust her bottom out once more.

He lost it, so far gone from his need to be inside of her again, that he lifted his hand and brought it down on her left ass cheek. She made a squeal of surprise, and he grinned. Something in him snapped, and he pushed her so she was on her belly.

He did it again and again, alternating between her cheeks until both mounds were a vibrant red. Stian stopped when he saw her clenching the hides in her hands, and moved back an inch to see her ass and pussy in clear view. She was soaking for him again, so wet in fact that her cunt glistened from her cream, and her juices slid down her inner thigh.

“See what you’ve done,” she said in a light, tempting voice.

“I see, Agata,” he growled out in arousal. He smoothed his hands over her back, across her generous hips, and along the crease of her ass. He spread the cheeks wide, took in the sight of her tight hole, and the red, swollen cleft of her pussy. His mouth watered for a taste, and his cock jerked in response.

Grabbing her hips in both of his hands, he reveled in the curviness of her body. Lifting her hips and positioning her so she was spread wide for him, Stian brought her bottom flush with his groin. She braced herself on her hands and knees, and pressed her ass closer into him. He ran his hand up her spine, moved her hair over, and stared at the graceful arch of her neck. Her back was smooth and flawless, her bottom succulent and perfectly round. Agata had an ass that made warriors fall to their knees, and had the gods singing in the sky.

He squeezed her ass, gripping the skin and parting it slightly once more. He was perfectly still behind her, his focus on the tight hole that he was about to fuck. Gods, he loved smacking her ass, loved fucking her back here, too. She was all but grinding herself back on him.

Stian grabbed his cock, stroked himself from root to tip, and loved that she gasped out in pleasure. He slid his finger slowly between her cheeks and rested on the tight hole in the center. “Agata, tell me how much you want my cock back here, filling you, making you come.” He placed the tip of his dick against her anus.

She looked over at him, and her blonde hair slid along her shoulder and covered one of her breasts that swung freely.

“Fuck,
Agata
.” He closed his eyes and grappled for control. “The way you make me feel, even after all these years, makes me feel like I’d never be the same without you.” He
knew
he’d never be the same without her. “I could devour you right now, and it would never be enough. It would never be enough, Agata.” He bent down and kissed both globes of her ass. His sack was heavy, but he knew she’d take all of it, knew she’d beg him for more. Her pussy lips were smooth and swollen and the most beautiful red color.

He slid his fingers across her soaking slit and brought the fluid to the tip of her clit, lightly stroking it. Feeling a jolt of pleasure wash over him at hearing her moan, he continued his ministrations. Stian brought his fingers back to her pussy hole, coating them in her juices until her cream slipped down his hand. Plunging them back into her body, he groaned when her pussy clamped down on them.

“You’re driving me crazy, Stian.”

“I’m just starting, Agata.” Grabbing her ass cheek, he spread her again and brought his soaked fingers to her asshole and coated the small hole with her arousal. It glistened in the soft light, making his cock jerk hard.

She tensed. Ever so slowly, he slid one finger into her and let her muscles adjust to the size. He played with her for a little bit, stretching her hole with his finger, and then added another one. When he thought she was good and stretched out, nice and slicked up from her lubrication, he slipped his fingers from her and placed the tip of his cock at her anus.

He started to push into her and gripped her hips. She clenched around his cockhead, and once he was past the tight ring of muscle, he slid deep inside of her easily. They both groaned when he bottomed out, and he clenched his teeth at the pleasure that coursed through his veins. “That’s it, Agata. Take all of me. Do you feel how much I fill you?”

“God, yes,” she gasped out.

He started to pull out of her, but before she groaned he pushed back inside. Over and over he pumped in and out of her, starting slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

“Oh, yes, Stian. Yes.”

He tightened his hold on her hips, and really started fucking her. When he knew he’d come far sooner than he wanted, he reached around her belly with the hand that he hadn’t had buried in her ass and teased her clit. The little nub was swollen and hard, and he rubbed it back and forth until her whole body tensed and she threw her head back and groaned out her orgasm. She may have been on her hands and knees, but he could see her face, and watched the flush spread up her neck and cover her face.

He bent forward, not about to deny himself, and wrapped his hand loosely around her throat. Placing his mouth right on hers, he kissed her until they were both panting. He pumped harder, faster inside of her, until their skin slapped together.

Wave after wave of pleasure shot straight up his spine. His balls drew up tight, and he had to pull away from her and suck in a lungful of air. He held onto her hips so hard he knew there would be marks on her flesh, but he got a possessive thrill from the knowledge. He liked knowing she would wear his mark of ownership, because she was his, irrevocably.

He slowly pulled out, the head of his cock almost popping free, before he plunged back inside. She looked over her shoulder at him, her mouth parted, her eyes wide, and her face flushed. Their bodies were dotted with perspiration, and he wanted her soaking wet for him all over. He swallowed roughly and closed his eyes, knowing he was about to fill her ass with his seed.

For several long, intoxicating seconds he came, and when he couldn’t come any longer, he gently pulled out of her. He would have collapsed beside his wife, but he moved over to the basin of water he kept by the fire in their room and grabbed a wet rag to clean her with. She was on her belly now, her ass red from his spankings, her eyes closed. He put on a pair of leathers, and grabbed her shift that hung over the wooden chair by the fire. Stian cleaned her the best he could, then slipped in the bed beside her. She was warm and full, and he loved her more than the day before.

He stared at his wife, remembered their conversation years before when she’d spoken of where she’d come from, of the old woman and the herbs, and he knew that everything happened the way it should have. He’d hid nothing from her, told her about his life, everything he’d done. Speaking so openly with her had made them closer. Every day he loved her more; every moment he knew he’d die for her because she was his world.

“Are you happy, Agata?”

She turned over to face him and knitted her brows. “Of course I am. You’ve made a good life for us, Stian. You’re a good husband, a good father, and I know that staying here all those years ago was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

He smiled and pulled her closer. She was his, and nothing would take that away. It had been four years since he’d found her in those woods, and things had changed for them. She was his wife, the mother of his children, and the woman he was supposed to be with. They had three children now, and were trying for their fourth. Hell, he’d try having children with her until they could no longer.

Then, as if their little ones read his mind, they came running down the short hallway that led to their bunks, and climbed up on their large pallet. Their oldest, a son named Thorbjorn, a little over three years of age, had a big grin on his face as he cuddled up with Agata. Petrine was only a year younger than her older brother, and she was the spitting image of him. And lastly, their youngest, the baby, at less than a year old, was his son Amund.

Stian grabbed the baby from Thorbjorn, who acted more like a father to his younger siblings than the older brother. He pulled all of his children close, and leaned down to kiss Agata. She took the baby from him, and he smirked as she brought his son to her breast to nurse. Pride filled him that his children were here, and that the gods had given him all these gifts of happiness.

He had a beautiful family, two sons and a daughter that were strong and healthy, and would grow to be warriors just like their parents. He stared at Agata as she pushed her hair, which was in braids, over her shoulder as she brought Amund to her breast. The baby latched onto her breast as he nursed, and Stian loved watching her feed his child, loved the connection and bond he felt when he was with his family like this. The way she hummed to the children until they fell asleep, until they were nestled beside them, had love filling him. He’d never thought he’d feel this kind of emotion, but every day, every second, he felt them ten times over.

Stian curled his arm around Agata’s waist and pulled her closer. He stared at his son as he nursed, ran his finger over Thorbjorn’s head, and leaned over to kiss his darling Petrine on the head. He might be a hardened warrior, killed countless people to survive, but these four people were his world. He had never known that there was something he could love, could hold close, but Agata had opened his eyes and heart.

Stian knew that he would fight a thousand warriors, and take out anyone who threatened his family, without even thinking. He’d never feel lonely or isolated again, not as long as he had the laughter of his children filling their home, or the warmth of his wife beside him.