Her Viking Saviour (Lore & Love Trilogy #1)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Unaccustomed to riding horses for such a long period, Wynflaed's buttocks were numb from her constant bouncing in the saddle. They had ridden till night fell, and she had done so without complaint no matter how sore her arse had gotten. She was distracted by the awe she felt when she watched Torben track Freydis’s path using his skills and instincts. The route Gunhilda had given them was the main route with a shortcut overgrown with trees. Once Torben was confident the trail they followed was Freydis’s, he took them on his own shortcut to cut her off. He had told Wynflaed there was a risk she would still beat them according to the indent of the hoof prints. She had been travelling at a gallop. He also spied an apple that had been nibbled on but not eaten to the core–the way Freydis ate her apples.

They alternated between a trot and gallop, and he pointed other things out to Wynflaed. Settlements to the east, mountains to the north, the furry flashes of various scurrying animals as they zoomed by. It was getting colder as well. Having lived in Northumbria, she was no stranger to the cold. But the cold here was different–instead of biting, the air was more like sharp little slaps. Only the skin on her face remained uncovered and that’s where she felt it most. She found it invigorating instead of discomforting. The riding, however, she was done with. Thankfully, they would soon be setting up camp.

Torben found a spot for them to rest for the night, and she said a prayer to God, the gods, and any who would hear her. She needed to feel the solid earth under her feet. The spot he had chosen had soft grass that would feel nice underneath the furs, and there was a large rock formation with an overhang to keep them dry if the weather turned to rain. He even found a spot with a small stream, and she could not wait to splash cleansing water against her face. Too impatient to wait for him to help her down, she pulled off her gloves and hopped down off her horse.

"God’s bones," she groaned loudly and grabbed her rear in pain.

"Wynflaed! You should have let me help you down, are you well? Did you injure yourself?" Torben asked in a panic as he rushed over and took hold of her.

"My arse is killing me!" she exclaimed without any care for manners and rubbed her fleshy posterior. She expected surprise or sympathy at her outburst. What she did not expect was for Torben to throw his golden head back and roar with laughter. Even the horses snorted and glanced their way at his reaction.

"What is so amusing, you pig?" she stormed over to him with a wince and pounded him on the chest.

"Wynflaed, Wynflaed, my sweet Wynflaed. That fiery, sharp tongue of yours never fails to make me smile," he said and pulled her towards him, so she pressed against his length. He removed his own gloves and moved his hands to cup her buttocks and gently massaged the flesh with his fingers. Relief spread through her extremities and mixed with erotic sensation as her body started to tingle.

"Ahhhh, ooooh," she groaned out loud and rubbed her face in his chest like a purring cat.

"Does that feel good, Elskling?" His voice was a raspy whisper. She could feel him hardening against her and she gyrated against him.

"It feels wonderful, Torben, your hands always do," she whispered back, her own voice husky as she reached up to kiss him, pulling his head down to meet her.

Their kiss was hot, wet, ravenous as their tongues mated in wild abandon. He kept one hand on her buttocks and the other firmly entangled in her hair. Two animals out in the woods. No sooner had she had the thought than Torben growled and tightened his grip in her hair, pulling her head back.

"I want you now."

With ease, he scooped her up and laid her down on the grass, peppering kisses down her neck as he lifted up her skirts with a demanding urgency. Feeling the same urgency, she moved her own hands eagerly to his pants and pulled them down until she had his pulsating shaft in her grasp. It was so quiet all she could hear was their rough breaths as they stimulated one another with their hands and their lips continued to mate frenziedly. The heavy coat at her back created a layer of warmth on the cold grass. Not that it mattered with the burning desire spread through her limbs. Their bodies still clothed, all that was exposed was their primal need. She did not know where she started and where he ended–they were one in mind, soul and body.

"Take me, Torben, take me now!" she demanded in a desperate plea.

She opened her legs wide to accommodate him, desperate to feel him at the centre of her core. He took hold of himself and roughly thrust inside her in one swift motion. A satisfied groan escaped him.

"We can be anywhere, Elskling, but when I am inside you, when I am with you, it feels like home," he whispered raggedly as he thrust deep inside her. She gripped his back, wanting all his weight on her as her legs tightened around his waist.

"I am yours, Torben. Always. You are my saviour. You are my home."