JENIKA SNOW

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 CONTENTS

Copyright
A Real Man Series
Viking

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8

Epilogue
Newsletter
Coming Next
Excerpt: You’ve Always Been Mine (You’re Mine, 2)
About the Author

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VIKING (A Real Man, 9)
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
Jenika_Snow@Yahoo.com
Copyright © January 2017 by Jenika Snow
First E-book Publication: January 2017

Photographer: Sara Eirew

Cover model: Alex Boivin
Photo provided by: Sara Eirew

Editors: Kasi Alexander / Lea Ann Schafer

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of
this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s
imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely
coincidental.
Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that
would violate the author’s rights.

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Book 1: Lumberjack
Book 2: Virgin
Book 3: Baby Fever
Book 3.5: A Real Man: Volume One
Book 4: Experienced
Book 5: Roommate
Book 6: Arrogant
Book 7: Feral
Book 8: Dirty
Book 9: Viking
Book 10: Coming soon

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 She’ll be his greatest conquest.

Ingrid

I should have been afraid of him, the brutal man with the violence covering him and blood on his face.
But he’d saved me from a fate worse than death. He was a Viking, a man who took what he wanted
because he could, because no one dared to cross him, to go against him.
And he claimed me.
I was his now, and I didn’t want to fight that.

Gunnar

From the moment I saw Ingrid I knew I wanted her as mine, as my wife, the future mother of my
children. I’ll go to any lengths to keep her by my side, to make her see I’m not letting her go. I may give
her the option to leave, to find her own way, but the truth is I would follow her to the ends of the earth
to keep her close.
I’m a Viking, a savage, dangerous and violent. I don’t give up when I see something I want. I’ve been
searching for Ingrid my whole life; I just didn’t realize it until I looked into her blue eyes.
She will be mine. No matter what.
Warning: Hope you like your men filthy, brutal, and willing to slay for the woman he’s claimed,
because in this story you’re getting it all and then some. It’s dirty, totally unbelievable, and probably
holds no real historical facts, but it’s fun and hot and hits the right spot. It is what it is, so hang on and
enjoy the ride.

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 1

Ingrid

I should have left when everyone else had. Now I was probably going to
die…or worse.
We’d only known they were coming, had heard they were destroying,
taking, making it their own, such a short time ago. But we’d run out of time.
They were here, and I was the only one still left, making sure everyone had
evacuated safely. This was our home, and of course everyone wanted to
defend it, but we weren’t fools either.
We wanted to survive.
It was the middle of the night, the moon high, the glow paving the way for
their quest, for their destruction. There was no time to gather anything more
than what I’d already packed.
They’d own me if I didn’t leave now.
They’d own me, destroy me.
Savages. They were beasts, barely human, running on instinct to conquer,
to pillage.
The scent of fire, of my home burning, slammed into me so hard I
couldn’t breathe. Tears tracked down my cheeks, and I was unable to stem
them, didn’t even try. I grabbed my pack, which held only the essentials, and
picked up the small blade. If I had to fight, to protect myself, I’d do it with
every ounce of strength I possessed. I sneaked out the back, hearing grunts
and roars from the men intent on taking what wasn’t theirs.
I’d make my way through the forest, toward the creek, and keep going
until I hit the next village. The others, who had escaped in time, would have
already warned them, and they would have already moved out. I doubted I’d
even be able to catch up with them. I wasn’t a hunter, and definitely not a
tracker. I’d be searching for them, but probably dead long before I ever
reached them.
God, such a depressing thought, that my life could end before it even
started.
But they’d escaped. That was all that mattered.
“Where are you going?” The gruff words came from behind me, and
before I could run, someone grabbed my hair and yanked me back. I cried out,
my pack dropping to the ground as I reached for the strands, trying to pry his
hands off or at least ease the pain. I still held the knife, keeping it close to my
side, ready to use it when I was in a better position. Or, I’d try to use it.
He dragged me back to the center of the village and tossed me to the
ground. I was crying hard, my eyes blurry, my heart racing.
And then they descended on me, coming closer, their dirty faces, their
huge bodies and horned hats looking frightening, like they were demons sent
to rain down on us, to torment us.
I knew what was to come, but I’d fight them tooth and nail, make sure
they hurt before they brought me under. I swung out, the beast in front of me
having his head turned and not seeing what I was about to do. The blade
sliced right into his gut, but I wasn’t sure how deep it went, seeing the layers
he wore. He grunted, and I got a bit of pleasure knowing I’d at least hurt him.
I expected the blows to come, the pain that would surely be inflicted on
me after what I’d done, but I’d still fight to the end.
The sound of a battle cry wrenched through the air. The men around me
took a fighting stance. I searched the village, seeing nothing but flames and
smoke. The shadows crept around where the flames didn’t lick.
A grunt.
A cry of pain.
The scent of blood in the air.
The feeling of my enemies life force covering me.
It all hit me suddenly, and I fell forward, bracing my hands in the dirt, my
breathing labored. I could hear fighting all around me, and I expected any
second that final blow that would end my life.
But it never came. And when the silence stretched on, I lifted my head
and looked around. The Vikings who’d destroyed my village were around me,
their bodies bloody and broken. My heart thundered, and my throat was dry. I
couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the thick smoke that surrounded me like a
cloak, but my fear of what was out there. Of who had killed my enemy.
And then I heard heavy footsteps coming closer, but the fire raged on,
making it impossible to see anything. I tried to stand, but my legs didn’t want
to work. I heard my heart thundering in my ears, felt the pulse at the base of
my neck.
The man who came into view was not a savior, a hero that had saved the
day. He might have killed the men who’d hurt me, but he was still a Viking.
His short dark hair, the leather, fur, and blood from his enemies that he wore
making it known he’d seen violence…he’d delivered it himself. But although
he was the same as the ones who’d terrorized my village, he’d also killed
them, stopped them before they could take from me what wasn’t freely
offered.
And then I saw several more men step up behind him. It was clear they
were with him, part of his clan, as their shields showed the same coloring, the
same crest. Their focus was intense, their attention trained right on me. They
conversed with each other in a dialect I wasn’t familiar with. When the Viking
in front of me started speaking, this time to me, I could only shake my head. I
didn’t know if they meant me harm, or if they were worse than the ones
they’d killed.
“Please, I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening.” I lifted my
dirt and blood covered hands, knowing they were shaking. These Vikings
probably didn’t understand me either.
“You’re afraid of us.” The one I’d seen first spoke to me, his words clear
and his accent thick. He knew my language.
“Yes,” I whispered. There wasn’t any point in lying. He could see how
clear my fear was. It was written along my body, in telltale signs.
“You have nothing to fear from us.” He held his hand out to me, and
although maybe I still should have been afraid, should have tried to outrun
them, to escape, the truth was I did feel safe. I didn’t know if they were telling
me the truth, but they’d killed the men who had destroyed my home, who had
been about to do unspeakable things to me. They could have harmed me ten
times over by now, but they didn’t, they hadn’t.
So I lifted my shaking hand and slipped it into his bigger one, his palm
covered in blood, his strength clear.
He helped me to stand, and I had to crane my neck back to stare into his
face. He was huge, his body wide, muscular. I could see his eyes, a bright
blue that didn’t look soft. I could see the violence and danger reflected in
them, staring right into my very being. I was aware of the destruction around
us, of the bodies littering our feet. I could even feel the other two men
watching us.
I knew I should say something, anything, but I was lost in this hazy
feeling of confusion, slight fear and…warmth.
And then he leaned down slightly so we were eye to eye. He lifted his
hand, cupped my cheek, and said in a voice so deep, so masculine I couldn’t
help but shiver, “You’re mine, female.”
I didn’t know what my fate was, but at this point I had nothing else to
lose.

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 2

Gunnar

I led my men through the woods, kept a steady pace, needing to get back to
the boat, to my village. But my thoughts were on my new wife. I stared at the
female…my female. She was small, her blonde hair in plaits matted with soot
and blood. She looked back at me, her wide blue eyes showing confusion and
maybe a touch of fear. I’d told her she was mine, and she was. From the
moment I saw her, watched the fighter in her emerge, I knew I had to claim
her as my wife.
I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, of us. Something in me tightened as I
looked at her, my heart beating a wild tempo, my body humming. From the
second I’d seen her kneeling on the ground, her fear written on her face, her
strength so monumental and surrounding her like a second skin, something in
me had awoken.
We’d been tracking the raiders for days, always one step behind. But we’d
gone through the night, hunting them like the animals they were, and finally
found them…destroyed them. We’d been after the brutal clan for longer than I
wanted to admit. They were bastards, that clan, going from village to village,
claiming what didn’t belong to them. When we’d first come up against the
savages back in our village, they’d slaughtered many of our people. We might
have seemed like them on the outside, brutal and unforgiving, but we were
not cold-blooded killers. We did not get pleasure from hearing the screams of
victims.
“What do you plan on doing with her?” Thorsen asked, his voice gruff,
the displeasure evident. He spoke in our native tongue, a dialect not familiar
in these parts. I knew the female couldn’t understand us, and I wanted her to.
I didn’t want her thinking we kept secrets.
 The truth was, despite our mission to end the violence from this beast of a
clan, I’d wanted a female as my own. I’d wanted to have a wife, a woman to
carry my strong daughters and powerful sons. And when I first saw this little
warrior, a princess in her own right, a shieldmaiden waiting to be brought to
the light, I knew she was mine.
“He wants her as his,” Viggo said, another Viking warrior in my group.
He kept his head lowered, but his focus was trained ahead as we made our
way through the harsh forest, putting her destroyed village behind us.
I looked at the female. I didn’t even know her name, but I didn’t need to
in order to know she was mine in every conceivable way.

Ingrid

I DIDN’T KNOW where they were taking me, but they hadn’t hurt me, and in fact
one of them—the Viking I’d first seen—seemed to be extra gentle with me.
I tripped over a fallen log, but before I fell forward, strong arms gripped
me around the waist, righting me. I turned my head and stared up at the
Viking.
He placed a hand on his chest and said, “Gunnar.” I stood there for a
second, his hands still on me, his big body warm, pressed right up against
mine. He tapped his chest with his hand again. “I’m Gunnar.”
I nodded. The feeling of his big, hard body pressed to me, his strength
surrounding me, made me feel all female.
“Ingrid,” I managed to say, my voice soft, my breath increasing. I watched
his eyes become heavy-lidded as he looked down at my mouth. I thought he
might have kissed me then, and for some inexplicable and insane reason, I
didn’t think I would have stopped him. But he stood there for long seconds,
not moving, his breathing heavy. He straightened, made sure I was righted,
then moved away. “Where are we going?” I asked, the only words that could
have made an appearance at this moment.
“Our ship,” one of the other men said. “We need to keep moving.”
I started walking ahead of Gunnar, with one man in front of me and the
other behind my Viking.
My Viking?
I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. I needed to focus on what I
was going to do. Staying with Gunnar seemed like the best way for me to stay
alive, but I also didn’t know if leaving would reunite me with my village.
Do I want to go back there?
 Truth was I had loved my village, loved my community, but I’d wanted to
leave, to explore. I’d wanted to find my place, to make a name for myself. I
had no clue if that would ever have happened, but I wanted to find out. At
nineteen I was old for not having a husband or children. I wanted those
things, but I didn’t want to be expected to have a certain path, to go a
particular way that others thought were right for me.
We walked again, for hours it seemed. My feet hurt, and when my belly
growled, I felt a nudge. Gunnar was by my side, his expression so intense,
focused right on me. “Eat and drink.” He handed me the animal horn that he’d
had hanging from his belt, and I drank deeply from it. He then handed me a
piece of dried, salted pork. I had no doubt he would have picked me up and
carried me if I’d complained. He was certainly watching me hard enough to
notice any little ache I might show on my face. The men behind us murmured
softly to each other, but I was focused on Gunnar.
We continued walking, my feet aching, my confusion of what I was going
to do still so thick in me. And then I saw the water…saw their frightening
ship. We made our way through the clearing, the other Vikings now leading
the way. Gunnar grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop.
“You are not a captive,” he said in that deep, husky voice of his. “You’re
free to go.”
I was a little stunned, because I’d assumed he wouldn’t just let me walk
away. True, he hadn’t hurt me, had even been caring to me, but seeing as
they’d made me go with them…I just thought I wouldn’t have a choice.
He pointed to the left. “The villages that way have been destroyed by the
raiders.” He pointed to the right. “You might have luck that way, although
word probably got out and everyone left, if they were smart.”
Yes. Everyone probably had fled. We all might be small villages, but we
knew how to survive.
“Or…”
I glanced at him again, my heart in my throat, these unexplainable
feelings slamming into me.
“You’re welcome to come with us, to come with me.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, looked both left, then right, but
knew what I’d find out there.
Nothing for me.
If I went with Gunnar, I’d find adventure, experience. If I went with him, I
could try and see what living was really like.
“And you’d just let me leave?” Maybe it was foolish to even ask, but
before I could stop them the words had come forth.
But he didn’t answer, and I had a feeling this Viking would have followed
me to the ends of the world to keep me close.
Seconds moved by, minutes, and I glanced down, knowing what I wanted
but still so confused. I was afraid of experiencing life but so thirsty for it. I
could search for my village but there was no guarantee I’d find them. And
even if I did I’d be in the same situation as before. I’d have no outlook on my
own path.
I lifted my head, and looked into his blue eyes. Maybe this was fate.
Maybe this was the gods giving me a chance to finally experience and
understand what life really was.
And then I knew what I wanted, what I had to do.
“I’d like to go with you.”

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 3

Gunnar

O nce on the ship I showed Ingrid where she could sleep—on my pallet,
surrounded by my things. I hoped she was warm and comfortable enough. I’d
rather be cold myself, and have the elements batter against me, than to let her
suffer. I also set up a hide that draped over her, secured to the sides of the
ship, to give her—us—some privacy, and allow her some reprieve from the
rains when they started. I wouldn’t claim her on this ship, not for the first
time, because when I held her, I didn’t want my fellow warriors watching.
I had given her the option to leave, but truth was I wouldn’t have let her.
I’d claimed her. She would be my wife. I couldn’t let her walk away, not
when I’d just found her. I would have followed her anywhere, and convinced
her she was mine.
Thorsen and Viggo were watching me when I stepped away from her,
making sure she’d fallen asleep. No doubt they were confused and annoyed
by this change of plans. The other warriors readied the ship for our departure.
“You’re really keeping her?” Viggo asked, his voice controlled, his
emotions in check.
“She’s mine,” I said sternly. “I’ll take her as my wife, as my mate. I told
you that. I meant it.”
“We’ve just barely conquered the raiders,” Thorsen replied.
I stopped, looked between the two men, and felt my need for Ingrid rise
up so powerfully it rivaled any battle I’d ever been in. “She’s mine. If you
want to fight me for her…”
The men looked at me, but they knew not to press this, that if I said
something, it went. They also knew I wouldn’t have been this adamant on
anything unless it was what I wanted. “She’s under my protection, and
therefore under yours as well.”
Both men nodded. That was it, the end of it, sealed in fucking stone.
Now I just needed to make Ingrid see that she would be mine.
My wife.
My mate.
The future mother of my children.
Nothing will take her from me.
We set sail back to our home. I wanted her to see she’d be welcomed, that
no matter what I’d keep her safe. Even though she had a fire inside her that
made me hard, made me proud, it was my job to watch over her.
I let her sleep and get her strength up as we kept on course toward my
village. She’d certainly need it for what I had planned when we got to the
village, for what I’d do to her, how I’d claim her.
And she’d want it from me. She’d beg me for it, and scream out my name
as she came unhinged in my arms.
She’d understand I was the only one who could ever make her feel alive.

Ingrid

“OPEN FOR ME, Ingrid,” Gunnar said softly, his deeply accented voice spearing
right into the most intimate, heated parts of me. He had this command to the
way he said things, to the way he wanted me to bend. It wasn’t in a
controlling way, but more that he wanted to care for me. I’d felt that the
moment he’d killed the men trying to hurt me, looked into my eyes, and told
me I was his.
“Let me feed you.” His voice was low, almost seductive in quality.
I parted my lips, and Gunnar slipped the piece of meat into my mouth.
When I closed my mouth, his fingers were still between my lips. The way his
body tightened, his pupils dilated, and his breathing increased told me this
was affecting him just as strongly as it had me.
The sound of the wind beating against the hide he had draped over us, a
makeshift wall and roof, a bit of privacy and protection, made this fluttering
start in my belly. He was taking care of me, wanting me to be happy,
comfortable. I’d only been here with him for a short time, but already I felt
myself falling for the rugged, strong Viking. He was unlike any male I’d ever
come across. Even the best, most revered warrior in my village didn’t hold a
flame to Gunnar.
The sound of the rain pelting on the hide, a gentle rocking from the boat,
and the warmth coming from Gunnar could have lulled me back to sleep.
My tongue touched the tip of one of his fingers as if it had a mind of its
own, and I heard a deep groan come from him, like a blade hitting a thick tree
trunk. He went for another piece of food to feed me, but I shook my head.
“I want you full, content.”
I felt a rush of heat spread through me. “I am.” In more ways than I’d
admit.
Only after a few seconds of staring at me, maybe seeing if I was being
honest, did he nod and push the food back. Although I’d never been on a
Viking ship, the pallet under me was comfortable. It smelled like Gunnar, this
woodsy, masculine aroma that surrounded me. I shifted on the pallet of furs,
feeling myself become uncomfortable in the best of ways because of the close
proximity of Gunnar.
He handed me a pouch of water, and I took a long drink from it. I didn’t
miss how he was focused on my mouth when I dragged my tongue along my
bottom lip, collecting a droplet of water on it.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked. I guess I’d just gone along with it,
figuring that was part of the adventure. But I was curious.
“My home,” Gunnar said, his voice seeming thicker still. “Your new
home. We have another day of travel.”
I smoothed my hands over my clothes. They were dirty, and I was in
desperate need of bathing, if only to feel better about myself.
I want to look good for Gunnar. I want to please him.
The words played through my head, a truth that I was still slightly
confused about.
“Once we are back at the village, I’ll prepare a warm bath, with oils and
dried flowers, only the best for you.” His voice had gone an octave lower, and
that tingling started in my belly again, moving through me swiftly.
My heart was racing, the image of Gunnar bathing himself, running a
piece of hide over his muscular body, filling my head in the most erotic of
ways. I’d never had a man sleep with me, never felt them between my thighs,
bringing me pleasure as they took their own. But from the moment I watched
Gunnar slay those men, felt his body heat seep into mine, and heard his
declaration that I was his, something in me had shifted toward him. I wanted
him more than I’d ever wanted anyone, more than I ever thought I could.
It had me feeling alive, desired, wanted.
And that should have scared me more than anything else.
 Gunnar

I WISH I had been able to give her warm water, not only to make her happy,
but also to marvel at her curves. I could see the way her breasts rose and fell
under her shift, and my body reacted instantly. My cock, always semihard
when she was near, sprang forth like a beast. I was insatiable for her, wanting
to claim her, make it known she was mine in every single sense of the word.
I reached out, took a strand of her long blonde hair, the plait smooth, a
shine coming through some of the dirt in her braid. I was pleased she didn’t
move away from me, that she seemed to enjoy me touching her, given the fact
that she panted even more.
“What did you mean when you said I was yours?”
I lifted my gaze to her face. I brought that plait to my nose and inhaled
deeply. There was this undercurrent of sweetness and earth. “It means exactly
what it means.” I started undoing the plait, my focus on her eyes as I moved
to the other one and undid that, the tight waves moving along her face. “It
means I’ve claimed you, that you’ll be my wife.” I pushed the hair off her
shoulders, slid my finger along her gently curved collarbones, and held in a
groan. “It means I’ll protect you until I draw my last breath, until the sun
stops shining.” I leaned in an inch closer. “It means that if anyone thought of
touching you, I’d rip out their heart and serve it to them as dinner.” I heard
her swallow, a little sound coming from her. I could have taken her right then,
but that wasn’t how I wanted this to start. That’s not how I wanted any of this
to begin. “Tell me what that sounds like to you, Ingrid.” I waited for her to
answer me. I needed her to.
“It means you won’t let me go.”
The way she said that told me she understand the depth of it all. “And…”
I urged.
“It means I am yours—”
“And I am yours.” I leaned in and kissed her then, slanted my mouth on
hers, made her take my tongue, urged her to take mine in return, to suck on it.
I groaned, reached out and cupped the back of her head, and fucked her
mouth like I’d be doing to her pussy soon enough.
I pulled away far too soon, but if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to
stop myself. I wouldn’t have been able to wait, to make this right for her. I
could be a patient Viking, and I sure as hell could wait for my mate until I had
her on my pallet back in my village.

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 4

Gunnar

I stared out at my village, my home. Everyone gathered by the shore, lining

the white-pebbled beach, their welcoming smiles letting me know where my
heart was. I turned and looked at Ingrid. I’d wrapped a thick fur around her,
her slender body so much smaller than mine.
“Home,” I said, the pride in my voice evident. She nodded and smiled,
and I wanted to pull her in right then and there and kiss her until she was
breathless. To think I’d gone on this mission to end the lives of demons, to
take them down and bring peace within my village, only to find my future
wife. I kept her close, needing her right beside me, protected, safe.
I glanced at Thorsen and Viggo, both men keeping their warrior
expressions in place, their hardened exteriors the type of men they were…the
type of men we all were. They just hadn’t found the one woman they wanted
to claim, to make theirs. Rutting between furs was all they’d know unless they
could feel that pull, that need to fight heaven and hell, the very gods, to make
sure this female stayed right by their sides.
And when their time came—and I knew it would—they’d fall to their
knees, just like I had when I’d first seen Ingrid.
Once we were docked and off the ship, I led her through the village. I
assumed she noticed the way people regarded us, the way they showed their
respect in addressing their leader. I took her toward my hut, wanting her to get
out of the chilled air, needing to get her alone. It was nice having her close on
the ship, but we were never fully alone. I wanted to be able to look at her,
make her comfortable, and see that pleasure wash over her face. I wanted to
be the male that gave her what she needed.
“You lead the village, their king?” she asked, the fur still wrapped tightly
around her. I wanted to rip it off, to see what lay beneath.
“I do. I am, although I don’t want to be held in that regard. I make sure
they are fed, protected. I make sure they are safe with the help of the other
men.” I lowered my head slightly, my focus on her, watching as she looked
around. “It’s why we went after the raiders. They took from us, put this
community in danger. They’d killed out people. I couldn’t stand for that, the
warriors in this village couldn’t let them get away with what they’d done.” I
could see the question in her eyes. She probably thought Vikings were all the
same, and I suppose in a sense we were all alike in that we wanted to provide.
“You don’t take from others?” Her voice was soft, as if she were hesitant
in asking the question. I’d never hurt her, and she’d come to find that out soon
enough. My priority was making sure she was happy and safe.
“We do, but we don’t kill for sport. We kill to protect, to keep what’s ours.
If we need something to make our village thrive, we don’t question how to get
that, how to provide. If someone stands in our way, trying to stop us from
making sure we can get what we need for our people, we take them down.” I
cupped her cheek. “But the raiders we killed, they’d been out for nothing but
blood. Raping, killing, that was their sport. They were not true men, not males
that cared about anything but themselves. Hurting others is what gave them
pleasure, not making sure their people survived.”
She nodded, and I could see she understood what I meant. I focused on
the village again, seeing my hut in the distance. We made our way closer, and
I pushed the wooden door open for her, allowing her to enter first. There
wasn’t much to it, but it was warm, a fire already roaring from a villager
who’d no doubt seen our approach. My bed was thick, the furs making up the
pallet more than wide enough to accommodate both of us and keep my wife
warm.
“I’ll have some food brought in, and then get a bath ready for you.”
The way she looked at me, the appreciation in her eyes, made me feel
proud I could give her this. I quickly found Finn, a young boy desperately
wanting to become a skilled warrior. He ran off to get my female food, as well
as hot water for her bath.
“You were born into it, this position?”
I took a step closer to her, saw the way her pulse beat frantically beneath
her ear. “No.” I took another step closer. “I fought for the title, killed the
tyrant who had led us.” Her eyes only widened a fraction. I could see on her
face that this wasn’t news to her. She had lived in a village, and most
practices were done most places. If you wanted to rule, you needed to be
willing to die, to kill for it.
I looked into her eyes and reached out to grab her hand. Her skin was
warm and soft. Her palm fit perfectly in mine. She was just so small
everywhere, so tiny, feminine. I wanted her right then and there, but her needs
came first, not the other way around.
She gave me a smile, and the sight had every part of me rising up, almost
saying fuck the bath, fuck the food. I desired to make her feel good, to meet
her needs that way. It might be hard to control myself, but I wouldn’t be an
animal with her, not the first time at least. I wanted Ingrid comfortable with
my touch, craving it, begging me for it. And once she was soft and ready,
primed for me, then I’d spread her thighs and push my cock deep into her
body. I watched as she lowered her gaze to my chest, then descended even
further to my leathers. Her eyes widened, and I knew she was taking in the
stiff erection pressed against the material.
My cock was big, just like the rest of me. I’d need her stretched, primed,
and ready for when I took her for the first time, for when I claimed her pussy
as mine.
Finn entered, a crate of food in his arms. Another young man pulled in a
bath basin. Finn set the crate down and went out, coming back a few moments
later carrying two jugs of water. He filled the basin and left the hut once more,
doing this over and over until the basin was filled with steaming hot water.
The other young man had been setting up a table and food. A feast was spread
out, a bath was prepared, and my woman would be well taken care of.
“Come, my sweet Ingrid.” I gestured for her to come to me, needing her to
obey, to let me take care of her. I saw the way she stared my body, the arousal
in her eyes, the confusion that she could feel anything for me after such a
short time. I was a man and she was my woman, and I wasn’t letting her go. I
couldn’t.
I would bathe her and run my hands along her smooth, creamy skin. I’d
wash her hair, take the wet strands between my fingers, and watch as she
reacted to my touch. Then I would take her to bed. I wanted it to be gentle,
sweet for the first coupling, but I was a warrior, a hardened and skilled
fighter, a killer. I was raw and untamed on the best of days, and taming my
passion for her was almost an unspeakable promise.
I was brutal, but I’d be gentle. I could be gentle.
I got down on my haunches and started undoing her boots. I worked the
leather off, rubbing her feet in the process, and looked up at her from my
crouching position. Once those were off and to the side, I went for her pants,
then her shift. She didn’t stop me, and in fact breathed harder, her little hands
in fists at her sides, as if she had a hard time controlling herself. I knew all
about that. I placed my hands on her waist, moving my thumbs over her
smooth skin, and although she was now naked for me, I kept my focus on her
face. And when I looked down at her mouth, I held in a groan at the fact that
her lips were red and slightly swollen. She’d been biting them, bringing the
blood to the surface.
“You want me, wife?” I asked, feeling my eyes growing heavy-lidded.
She licked her lips and nodded, and I didn’t hold in my moan then. “Then
we’ll bathe together. I’ll wash you, make you clean, feel good.”
She breathed harder, her full breasts rising and falling. I looked my fill
then, taking in the creaminess of her skin, the way her nipples were pink and
hard. Her waist was tucked in, tiny. She was so small compared to me, almost
fragile. And between her legs... I ran a hand over my face, feeling the scruff
under my palm. Blond hair covered her pussy, but I could see her slit, knew
she was wet for me.
Despite the fact that the hut was warm, so warm I felt beads of sweat line
my back, I saw her flesh pucker as if she were chilled. I started removing my
clothes, and when I was nude, I let her have her fill of me. She looked at my
chest, moved lower yet, and when she looked at my cock, her eyes widened
slightly. My dick was hard, so hard it ached. I wanted to touch myself, to ease
some of the strain I felt, but I refrained. I didn’t want to be a bastard about
this. I wanted Ingrid to be the one to pleasure me, to touch me, to see what
she did to me in all ways.
My dick jerked with every second she looked at me.
I held my hand out. “Come here, Ingrid.” My voice was pitched low. I
was immensely pleased that she came to me right away, slipping her hand into
mine, allowing me to pull her into the hardness of my body.
“I want to bathe with you, want to wash you, tend to you.” I watched as
she swallowed, the slender line of her throat working from the act. “You want
that, don’t you?” I felt pleasure when she nodded, when the little pants of her
warm breath went along my chest. I was hard as fucking stone right now, and
tonight I’d claim Ingrid.

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 5

Ingrid

G unnar was all hard, cut muscles. He was all male, all powerful, and all
mine. I don’t know the exact time I decided he was mine, the same way I was
his. I didn’t even care, because it felt good, right.
And he was so big…everywhere. I stared at him, at the cut lines that made
up his form, at the Norse tattoos that covered his golden flesh. I let my gaze
follow the scars that marked his chest and arms, and surely his back, too. He
was a brutal warrior, had probably seen countless battles.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured under his breath, his arousal for me
apparent in his expression but also in the thick, monstrous rod he sported
between his legs. “I want you, want to devour you, make you cry out in
pleasure.”
Wanting to be honest with him, I opened my mouth, needing to tell him
this was my first time, that although I wanted this, I might not be what he
expected…needed. “I’m untouched,” I said, my voice soft, my emotions
reserved. He might not want me, might want a female more experienced, who
could handle the passion a warrior like him could provide.
“Sweet Ingrid,” he said and cupped my face, bringing his lips down on
mine. He kissed me softly, but I could feel the fire deep in him, the need to
take me in the way he was: raw, unhinged. He pulled back, and I swore his
dick got harder, thicker. His blue eyes were trained right on me, and he looked
so intense, so wild.
“I need to touch you,” he said on this guttural groan.
“I need you to touch me, Gunnar.”
The only thing he did was to let out a harsh sound of pleasure before
stepping up to me. He cupped a breast, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t even
breathe. I was wet right now, my nipples hard, my body tight, feeling like I
was on fire. He ran his thumbs over the peaks of my breasts, and tingling
spread through me, making me shiver, making me moan as if on command.
“You’re ready for me.” He didn’t state it like a question. He said it like he
knew me so well, despite the fact that we’d only been in each other’s
company for a short time.
He does know me so well. He knows what I want, what I need. I can see
that reality on his face, in the way he touches me.
“I’ll be gentle, my female.”
My heart thundered, and I found myself shaking my head. “Maybe I don’t
want gentle.”
His nostrils flared, and I knew those words had done something intense to
him. Gunnar had his hands on my waist and, in a matter of seconds, lifted me
into the air. I was forced to brace my hands on his shoulders to balance
myself. But he had a tight hold on me, and I knew he wouldn’t let me fall. He
turned us around, and he had me in the tub moments later, moving in behind
me. The bathing tub was on the smaller side, and with two bodies in it the fit
was tight. But I had a feeling that’s exactly what Gunnar wanted.
I was in front of him, with his big, muscular thighs on either side of me,
and his huge, hard cock prodding my back. He had his hands on my knees,
smoothing them up and down, and I marveled at the white crisscrossed marks
lining the backs of his hands. They were the hands of a warrior, one who had
seen battle, who had survived. I placed mine atop his, the water making my
motions slick, smooth. He was tense behind me, his big body coiled tightly,
telling me he was really trying to keep his control. I softened toward him
more. He could have easily overpowered me, taken me like a savage, a beast.
Before I knew what was happening, he turned me around, the water
splashing over the edge of the metal. I gasped from the sudden movement,
from my skin kissing the chilled air…and especially from the way my thighs
were spread on either side of Gunnar’s. His waist was lean, his dick a hard
rod between us, the tip peeking out of the top of the water. He had a cloth in
his hand, and I didn’t stop him from running it over my back, along the curve
of my bottom, and over the outside of my thigh. He moved it over my belly,
up my rib cage, and finally engulfed my breast with his cloth-covered palm.
His hand was so large and masculine. A shiver worked its way through me. I
was immensely aroused, so ready for him that I would have told him to take
me right there and then and not felt ashamed about it. The sound that left him
was gruff, maybe even barbaric.
God, it made me hotter.
“You feel good on top of me, my female.”
 And you feel good under me, my Viking.
I didn’t say those words aloud, couldn’t say anything. My throat was too
tight, the words stalling on my tongue, refusing to submit, to reveal
themselves. He was hard between my legs, his monstrous shaft prodding me,
almost demanding entrance into the most sensitive, intimate part of me.
“I want you, want to take you right here.”
I closed my eyes at his accented words, his voice deep, his body pressed
right up against me.
“But when I take my wife for the first time, it’ll be in the bed we share.”
He pushed my hair off my shoulder, the ends wet, sliding along my skin like a
lover’s touch…like Gunnar’s touch.
The rest of our bathing was done without anything more than Gunnar
touching me, stroking my flesh with the dried flower- and oil-infused cloth.
When he’d washed my hair, making sure every part of me was clean, perfect,
and content, he helped me out of the bathing tub. He dried me off with gentle
motions, paying attention to every part of me, making sure no droplets of
water lined my flesh.
Desire coursed through me violently, weaving its way into my body,
making me a servant to it. He rose from his haunches. Gunnar made me feel
like such a helpless female, yet strong in my own right because I knew the
effect I had on him. And then he lifted me up, and I was forced to brace my
hands on his chest or I would have toppled over. He smelled clean, like pine
and fresh ocean air with a hint of salt. We might have just bathed together, but
this was his scent, the way he always smelled.
I felt my body grow warm, my nipples harden, and I became wet between
my thighs.
“It’s time to rest,” he said, his command not to be broken, but I wasn’t
tired. I wanted to feel his hard body pressed against mine, desired to submit to
him in a way that had us joining as one.
I could have argued, could have told him I needed him then, but I didn’t
want to force anything.
When we were on the pallet, he moved behind me, wrapping his arm
around me, pulling me in tightly toward his body, and making me feel
protected. I could handle myself, had been trained somewhat in my village to
protect myself, but I was physically weaker than Gunnar. That was just a fact.
He made me feel like I didn’t have to be afraid of what would happen the next
day, if I’d be alone, and not knowing where to go from there.
The feeling of his very large, very pronounced erection digging into the
small of my back had my entire body coming awake. I stared at the fire, at the
flames licking over the wood. I listened to the howl of the wind, the villagers
talking softly right outside the walls. And if I listened carefully, I could
almost hear the sound of the water lapping along the shore.
I breathed out slowly, squeezed my eyes shut, and tried to stem off my
arousal. I knew Gunnar would take me if I asked, but for some reason I was
holding back.
Why? Why not let Gunnar claim me, make me feel like a real woman?
Why not let this fierce Viking take control like I know he can? Let him claim
me, conquer me fully.
The sound of him inhaling my hair had this tingle spreading through me. I
felt it start in my pussy, racing up my body and settling in my lips.
No, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I didn’t want to stop what was clearly
moving between us. Maybe it was fate or the gods or just intense attraction
that had this fire rushing between us. Whatever it was, I wasn’t about to stop
it, hide it, or bury it inside anymore.
I shifted, turning so I was facing him now, and inhaled deeply. The scruff
on his face had my fingers itching to touch his square jaw. He was so
masculine. His chest was bare, the tattoos and scars lining his golden flesh
making every part of me want to surrender.
“My Ingrid.”
My breath caught at the way he said my name.
There was no stopping this, because I knew once Gunnar had me, there
really was no going back.
But I don’t want to go back, and I don’t know if that should make me
happy or incredibly scared of what my future holds.
I wouldn’t stop this.
I won’t. Can’t.
The fire in the center of the room crackled, licking over the wood, heating
the hut as well as my body. The small dots of perspiration lining my spine had
nothing to do with me being warm and everything to do with my arousal. My
nipples were hard, almost aching. I wanted Gunnar with a fierceness I’d never
experienced before. And although I felt the hard rod between us, the evidence
of his need for me, I knew if I said I didn’t want this right now, he wouldn’t
push me. He’d give me the time I needed, no matter how long that might be. I
knew that as well as I knew he wanted me. I felt that honesty in his touch, in
the way he looked at me, spoke to me. He was a true warrior, a real man.
But there would be no waiting. I wanted this now.

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 6

Gunnar

I f she told me she didn’t want this, I’d respect her wishes, even though my
balls ached, my cock was hard, and I wanted her so fucking badly I could
taste it.
I looked down at her chest, her breasts the perfect size for me to cup in my
hand. Her nipples were hard, ready for me, for my mouth. A harsh groan left
me, my arousal like a beast rising up from the water that surrounded my
village.
I smoothed a hand down her side and saw the way her breathing
increased, her chest raising and falling rapidly. She was a virgin, untouched.
She’d be mine in all ways, claimed only by me.
“All mine.” I didn’t bother hiding the possessiveness that came from me.
If she hadn’t figured out already, she’d see soon enough that she was mine,
and anyone who tried to take her from me would meet their death at the end
of my ax. I lowered my head and inhaled at the base of her throat, her scent
sweet, like the oils and dried flowers I’d used to bathe her. I’d wash her every
night, make sure she was content in my arms, that she was pleasured in all
ways. I’d be the one to see to her needs, to make sure she never wanted for
anything.
I rested my forehead against the side of her neck and groaned deeply.
Fuck, I was so stiff, my balls drawn up tightly to my body, the need to be
buried in her pussy riding me hard. I needed to push through her innocence, to
claim her maidenhead, to make her fully mine. I moved my palm along the
dip of her waist, along her outer thigh, then over her belly. I felt the heat from
her pussy and clenched my jaw, trying to control myself. I wanted to spread
her legs and plunge into her right now, but I wasn’t a savage. I could control
this, make it good for her first time. My cock gave a mighty jerk, the bastard
wet at the tip, pre-cum making an appearance.
“Tell me what you want, my female.”
She closed her eyes and made this soft, innocent sound.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
I wouldn’t make her wait, wouldn’t make either of us suffer. “Then spread
for me, sweetness.” When she obeyed so nicely, I slipped my hand between
her thighs, a guttural groan leaving me when I felt how wet she was for me.
“You want me to make you feel good?” I said against the corner of her mouth.
“Yes,” she moaned.
But I shifted, turning her so her back was to my chest, her ass pressed
right up against my dick. My cock throbbed painfully, making me close my
eyes and grind my teeth. I slipped my hand between her legs once more and
rubbed my fingers through her slit.
Up and down.
Slow and easy.
Her hands had the animal furs in a tight grasp, her knuckles white with
how fiercely she held them. I rubbed her harder, a little faster. Her arousal
covered my fingers, and I growled in approval.
“That’s it, Ingrid. Get nice and juicy for me. I want to slide right in once I
claim you.” She gasped after I spoke, and I gently nipped at her shoulder as I
continued to rub her cunt. “Tell me you’re mine, that you’re my wife, mine to
fuck, to cherish.”
She gasped for me again. “I’m yours. I’m yours.” Her head was tossed
back, her blonde hair scattered along the dark furs, a startling contrast.
I growled. I felt like this wild animal resided in me, wanting to be free, to
devour Ingrid. “So soft.” I slid my finger faster up and down her slit. “So
sweet.” I ran my tongue along her throat, following the path with my teeth.
She shivered for me, reacting to my touch in all the ways I needed her to. She
submitted to me but was strong in her own right. I needed that in my female,
needed one who could be a match for me…a warrior.
I moved my fingers from her pussy, sliding my hand along her belly and
holding it there. “And one day soon my sons and daughters will grow in here.
You’ll give me strong children, won’t you, sweetness?” Moving my hand up
her belly, along the curve of her breast, and stopping on her neck, I whispered
for her to look at me. She obeyed so nicely.
“You want me to claim you, to break through your maidenhead and claim
your virginity as mine?” She nodded slowly, her mouth parted, her breathing
harsh. “Say the words.”
“I want you, Gunnar.”
 “Show me where.”
She took my hand and placed it right between her thighs…right on her
wet pussy. “Right here,” she whispered.
I cupped her cheek and kissed her, made her take my tongue, made her
know I couldn’t wait anymore.
I was going to take my woman, and by the end of it she’d be sated,
content, and all mine.

Ingrid

GUNNAR HAD his big body over mine, the heat from the fire and him covering
me, causing beads of sweat to line my body in the best of ways. He took hold
of my face, his hands huge on my cheeks, his gaze on me intense,
commanding. I watched as he looked at my mouth, his pupils dilating, his
arousal written across his expression.
“I’m never letting you go, Ingrid.”
His words were fierce, his determination to hold that above everything
else coming through like a chilled flash of air around me. He said something
to me in his native tongue, some of the words familiar enough that I knew he
called me beautiful, sweet, and so gentle.
“Kiss me,” I whispered, wanting to feel his lips on mine again, the power,
the passion that came from him and stole everything else away. There was
nothing else that mattered except being with Gunnar and letting him dominate
my body in only the best of ways.
He didn’t make me wait, didn’t deny me.
He kissed me like he owned me. He does own me, every part of me, and I
need that like I need to breathe. Gunnar’s lips were firm, so full and powerful
that I couldn’t help but surrender to him. I swallowed the deep sound he
made, tasted the flavor of him on my lips, on my tongue. I grabbed his biceps,
the muscle underneath my palm twitching, his power coming through clearly.
“I’m going to devour you tonight, wife, so thoroughly you won’t be able
to think about anything besides what I’ll do to you in this bed.”
The feeling of his hands on my face, of his fingers stroking my flesh,
seeming to memorize me, had me arching into him. I felt the hard rod
between his thighs prodding my cleft, a huge appendage that had me wet,
needy. The feel of his hand skating up my arm, landing on my neck, holding
me gently in place, told me of his strength. He could overpower me if he
really wanted to, and that made me hotter, made me aroused even more.
 “So sweet, Ingrid,” he murmured, and started thrusting himself against
me. He didn’t penetrate me, just kept a slow and steady humping motion,
pressing into my slit, bumping the little nub that tingled at the top of my sex. I
felt something building within me, felt this tightening at the base of my back,
stars dancing behind my lips, and my body feeling like it was being
swallowed whole.
I gasped and dug my nails into his arms, holding him to me.
“That’s it,” he groaned and went faster as he pushed against me, his shaft
sliding through my folds, bumping that little bundle of nerves, making me cry
and writhe for him, under him.
And then something snapped. I felt myself grow higher, felt the world
rush around me, sweeping me away. I tossed my head back as the pleasure
slammed into me. All the while Gunnar never stopped moving, never stopped
pressing himself against me, making me cry out at the intensity of the
pleasure.
The fire running through my veins could not be ignored, could not be
extinguished. I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to be consumed by it forever.
He kissed a path along my collarbone, his voice low, growling in intensity.
He’d slowed his thrusting, but I felt how hard he was. He was a steel sword
between us, his need evident, physical. Despite the explosion that happened in
me, I was so wet, so ready for him. He grunted, murmuring in his native
tongue.
“You’re primed for me, giving me all I want, all I need.” He ground his
hardness into me a few more times before stilling, his breathing harsh and his
body corded with strength, tense.
But I didn’t want him to stop. He ran his tongue up the length of my throat
until a shiver worked its way through me. Gunnar lifted his head and looked
down at me, a fire behind his eyes.
“I need you now, Ingrid.”
I took a deep breath and licked my lips. “Then claim me.”
He flared his nostrils, his eyes glazing over with lust, with the need to do
what I’d said, what I desperately wanted. The way he kissed me stole my
breath but made me want so much more. He groaned against my mouth and
grabbed a chunk of my hair, tilting my head back, making my throat arch,
bared.
I gasped when he ran his tongue back down my neck and along my pulse.
Wetness coated my inner thighs, a testament to how worked up I was, how
ready I was for him. I felt his hand on my leg, moving behind to skate along
the curve of my ass, and down lower until he gripped me behind my knee and
pulled it up and out. I was spread wide, and he nestled in farther, resting his
full weight on me, pressing me down onto the fur. I gasped, my sensitivity
startling.
He ground against me now, the tip of his shaft pressed right to my
entrance.
“Gods,” I whispered. He had his hand between my thighs, and I made this
sound in the back of my throat at the sensations traveling through me. His big
fingers found my soaking slit, and he started teasing me.
“Wrap your legs around my waist. I need you closer to me.”
I wrapped my thighs around his waist, my pussy coming in contact with
his hand fully now. We both made deep sounds. The hot, hard length of him
rubbed along my inner thigh at the same time he stroked me over and over
again, teasing me, tormenting me.
“So ready for me,” he groaned out. “So receptive, Ingrid, my wife.” He
immediately took possession of one of my breasts with his mouth, moving his
tongue along the stiff peak, biting at the tip gently. Shocks of pleasure
slammed into me. His hot breath skimmed over my flesh, and I sucked in a
deep breath, feeling dizzy, light-headed.
“I’m going to fuck you, sweetness. I’m going to make you take all my
hard inches, make you weak-kneed from the passion I have for you.” He
moved his hand out from between my thighs. “And when you don’t think you
can handle anymore, I’m going to make you ride me deep and hard, all night
long.”
He moved back slightly, lifting his hand, and I could see that his fingers
were glistening from my arousal, from my need for him. My breath stalled
when he sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking all my desire off the digits.
The sound he made was like a wounded animal. His abdomen rippled, the
muscles on his stomach clenching, the hills and dips coming out in stark
clarity under his tanned, tattooed, and scarred flesh.
He gripped himself, his shaft hard, so big and long my throat tightened,
and stroked himself from root to tip. He was ready for me, and I worried that
maybe he wouldn’t fit, maybe the pain would be too much even if I was
worked up for him I couldn’t think straight.
“You like watching me touch myself, needing you like a fucking beast?”
I could only nod. He continued to watch me. With every stroke he made,
the foreskin was pulled back, revealing the slit and clear fluid at the tip…a
testament to how turned on he was, how much he wanted me. That was a
heady, exciting reality, and one I clung to.
This is all because of me.

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 7

Gunnar

I ngrid was so innocent. She was mine, and I’d treat her right, make her
happy, pleased…I’d make her know there wasn’t anyone else in the world for
me.
I’d been trying to keep my desires under control, to not frighten her or
make her think I was a beast. But I couldn’t control myself anymore, not
when she was ready for me, not when I was liable to come before I was even
inside her.
And that wasn’t going to happen. When I let loose, I’d be deep in her
body, making her take my seed, making her smell like me.
I’d mark her.
I looked at her for a suspended moment, just watched as the firelight
licked across her body, her curves. The scent of her was intoxicating, making
me feel like I’d downed copious amounts of mead—I was drunk on her. I
lifted a chunk of her blonde waves, smoothing the strands between my
fingers, and brought them to my nose, inhaling deeply. I’d always know her
scent. I’d imprint myself on her, take her very essence into my body for all
time.
I heard her swallow, saw the slender line of her throat work from the act. I
didn’t want to torment her any longer, didn’t want to do that to myself either.
As it was I found myself pressing against her, shoving my cock into her slit,
feeling it slide up and down her slick heat.
“I could devour you until there was nothing left.” I moved close again so
our mouths were inches apart. “And still it wouldn’t be enough, still I’d be
hungry for you.” I watched as she licked her red, succulent, lush lips. I’d have
her mouth wrapped around my cock soon enough. Right now I needed to feel
her quaking for me, needed to have her pussy clenching my shaft, bringing
herself to that pinnacle.
“This will be your first time, but I’ll make you scream with pleasure.” Her
breasts rose and fell harshly, her breathing rapid, wild. “No more waiting.” I
leaned forward and claimed her mouth in the only way I knew how, in the
only way that mattered.
Possessive.
All-consuming.
Brutal.
She started kissing me back desperately, holding on to my shoulders with
her little hands, digging her nails into my flesh, making me hiss in pleasure.
“I am so hard for you, Ingrid, so ready for you, wife.” I knew it would
always be like this. “I need to feel myself filling you up, need you to take my
seed, to be marked by me.”
“Gods, Gunnar.”
I groaned in response.
She made soft noises of desperation and need.
I slipped my hand behind her nape, curled my finger into her soft flesh,
and kissed her harder, more demandingly. When she lifted her hips, my cock
slipping faster, harder against her cleft, a low growl spilled from me.
I couldn’t control my breathing and felt my cock stiffen even further, the
heavy sac beneath it drawing up tight to my body. I growled and dragged my
other hand up her slender hips, along her flat stomach, and cupped a large
breast. Tweaking her nipple until she squirmed beneath me, until she made
soft sounds, had been the goal. Thrusting my cock against her only made my
need for her heighten.
“Do I make you feel good, my female?”
She nodded her answer. That was good enough for me. I started licking a
path along the curve of her neck, into the hollow at the base of it, and panted
against her throat.
“You make me feel drunk.”
“Gunnar,” was her response.
“Part for me, let me see what’s mine, Ingrid.” My voice was rough, harsh
from my arousal. I leaned back, giving her room, watching as she obeyed.
The sight of her lips spreading, showing me her pink center, her wet slit, had
me groaning like a ravaged beast.
“Please,” my wife moaned. “I need you.”
Resting my forehead on hers, I tried to control my breathing. I reached
between us, took hold of my shaft, and stroked myself for a few seconds. My
cockhead was wet from the constant pre-cum that came from the tip, and I
knew I could come from this alone. She watched as I pleasured myself, and
my whole body grew even tenser at that fact.
“Spread your lips for me.” I stared into her eyes. “Let me see how pink
your center is.” And when she did just that, and I saw her pussy opening, the
place I’d soon dominate, I fucking lost it.

Ingrid

I SHOWED him the most intimate part of me, a place no one had ever touched,
had ever seen.
And Gunnar looked at me as if I was a feast and he was starving.
I couldn’t help but stare at where he gripped himself. He was so long, so
thick. My inner muscles clenched at the thought of him fitting himself inside
of me.
A warrior who was so brutal and beautiful.
“Look at me, my female.”
I forced myself to lift my gaze from his impressive, almost frightening
manhood. His eyes watched me, regarding me with a blue intensity that had
my heart racing. I wasn’t afraid of him, although maybe I should have been.
Maybe I should have felt more fear, more apprehension for what he wanted
from me…with me.
If it was possible, I grew wetter between my thighs.
This flush stole over me, rushing along my limbs, along my neck and
face. And the longer he stared at me, the more he controlled me with a
pleasurable haze, the higher my need for him grew.
He placed his hands on my inner thighs and slid his big fingers along my
skin, sending fire rushing through me. And then he pushed my legs open even
wider, the muscles protesting, screaming, burning in only the best of ways.
“As much as I want to push into you right now”—his throat worked as he
swallowed—“I need to taste you with a desperation that rivals anything else
I’ve ever experienced.”
My stomach hollowed in and out as I breathed roughly. He had his hands
by my pussy, his fingers by my lips. He spread me apart, the cool air drifting
along my exposed flesh. He was lowered between my legs, his mouth right by
my intimate part.
“You smell so fucking good, look so incredible.”
I closed my eyes as soon as I felt his tongue on me, flattened, hot, wet. He
licked me from pussy hole to the little nub at the top of my sex. Then he
sucked that engorged little bundle into his mouth, and my upper body rose off
the bed from the sensations that slammed into me. He had a hand right under
my breast, holding me in place as he licked and sucked and brought me to a
place that surely the gods visited.
He held me open, licking me until I gasped, sucking in air, trying to stay
conscious. And then it was like something broke inside of me, that same
intense pleasure that had me soaring, grasping, clutching for something solid.
The sounds coming from me were broken, pleading. The sounds coming from
Gunnar were like a wounded animal, a starved beast.
Only when I tried pushing him away, so weak, so sensitive, did Gunnar
move back. I forced my eyes open, not even realizing I’d had them shut. He
had his hands braced on the bed on either side of my shoulders, his huge
warrior body blocking out everything else. I stared at his mouth, his lips
glossy from what he’d been doing to me, from what he’d wrung from me. He
didn’t make me wait to know what he’d do next. He gripped my chin, leaned
in, and kissed me, forcing me taste myself on him. He speared his hand in my
hair and pulled on the strands forcefully. I felt the hot, hard length of him
press between my thighs as he continued to kiss me. But what I really wanted
was to have his shaft at my entrance, pushing into me, stretching me…owning
me.
And then without breaking the kiss, he reached between our bodies and
had the tip of his dick at the entrance of my body. Everything in me froze,
stilled. I didn’t breathe, didn’t even think my heart beat at that moment.
The fierceness that covered his face, and the way he looked down at me,
as if almost waiting for my permission to proceed, had a flush stealing over
me. This was not just a man, not just my husband. He was a Viking, brutal,
raw with power, maybe even barbaric when the time called for it. He took
what he wanted, no doubt, expecting compliance, submission. But right now
he waited for me, waiting to make sure I was okay.
I smoothed my hands over his inked arms, the muscles flexing underneath
my fingers.
“I’m ready for you.”
He groaned deeply and closed his blue eyes. “You’re mine. You belong to
me.” When he opened his eyes again, I could see that truth reflected back at
me. This was about me being his possession. This was about me being his in
all ways, the same way he was mine.
When I felt his body tense even further, I knew what was coming. He
pushed deep inside of me in one thrust, breaking through my maidenhead,
making me untouched no longer. I arched my back, my breasts thrust out, my
mouth opened on a silent cry. The pain was immense, his size making me
gasp. I knew he was big, that there would be discomfort, but the stretching,
the burning of his penetration had tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
Gunnar leaned down and licked those tears away, took them from me, my
pain, and gave me pleasure. He started moving then, back and forth, over and
over again, slow, easy, steady. The heavy weight of his balls pressed to my
bottom every time he thrust into me.
He didn’t say a word, just kept his eyes locked on mine, his concentration
clear.
His massive chest rose and fell as he breathed. “Never have I felt anything
so incredible as being deep in your pussy.” Gunnar buried himself to the hilt
in me, and I felt my eyes widen, my lips part slightly. My inner muscles were
clenching rhythmically around his girth.
“So good, my Ingrid.” He pulled out so the tip was lodged in my body. A
heartbeat passed, and then he thrust back in. We both cried out in pleasure.
“Yes,” I whispered.
It was as if that one word set him off. He went primal, savage then. His
harsh grunts fueled my lust.
He was fucking me now. There was no other way to say what he was
doing.
He moved in and out of me until our skin was slapping together, our sweat
mixing as one. Gunnar pulled back and looked down the length of our bodies
at where we were connected. I followed suit. I moaned at the sight of him
tunneling in and out of me, his thick shaft covered in my glossy desire and my
virginal blood.
He grunted out his pleasure, and mine increased. I gasped, and he held my
hips in such a tight, unyielding hold. He kept me in place as he claimed me, as
he made it known that I was his, using his body, pleasuring me to the ends of
the world.
Gunnar buried himself deep inside of me, over and over again, bringing
me to the very heavens with each thrust. I felt full, so stretched, the pleasure
and pain mixing as one, making me light-headed, crazed for more.
And then in one powerful thrust he pushed back in, his pelvis to mine,
pushing me up the pallet, my back sliding along the furs, the burn intense and
so good.
“Gods,” he groaned, his body so big, so hard above me. He filled me, his
hot seed touching every inch of me, slipping from where our bodies were
conjoined. He cursed and murmured harsh things. His eyes were closed, his
neck strained, his face in an almost painful expression. He finally relaxed atop
me, his heavy weight a delicious sensation.
“This is how a warrior feels when he finds the one he wants to keep.” He
sounded like he was speaking to himself. He opened his eyes and glanced at
me. “This is surely what Valhalla feels like.”
When he pulled out of me, we both made disappointed sounds. Before I
could move, he had his arm around my middle, pulling me tightly to him,
laying a kiss on my shoulder.
Our skin was sweating, pressed against each other, so erotic, so pleasing. I
felt the wetness from his desire and mine coat my inner thighs. He had a hand
between my legs, as if knowing what I’d just been thinking. I gasped and
shifted when he slipped a finger into me, pushing his seed back into my body.
“I belong here. Always.”
He pumped his finger into me lazily, and I sighed, feeling heat rise in me
again.
“Mine,” he said huskily, and I felt perfect, so much so I actually smiled.
Gunnar leaned down and kissed my forehead, a sweet and gentle act that
seemed so misplaced, given a first look at him. He slipped his finger from me
and pulled the hide over us. I felt myself start to drift to sleep, content, safe,
happy. I didn’t know what the future held, but what I did know was that I was
exactly where I was supposed to be.

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 8

Ingrid

A chill washed over me and opened my eyes. The furs were down around my
waist, my chest was exposed, and despite the fire that burned in the center of
the hut, keeping everything warm, I was cold.
Because Gunnar wasn’t next to me.
I stretched, my body deliciously sore in all the right places, and slid my
hand over to where he’d slept. The furs were chilled, but the remembrance of
his heat, of what we’d shared, would forever be imprinted in my mind and
body.
He’d owned me in a way no other male ever had.
He’d claimed me so I would only crave him.
Even now, just thinking about what we’d done, what we’d shared the
night before, made me flush. I was wet, ready for him again.
I heard grunts a short way from the hut, sounds of men fighting, of
warriors trying to defeat each other. I got a flash of the night in my village,
the death, the violence.
I moved off the bed and grabbed a shift. I slipped a leather shawl over my
shoulders, tied my hair back with a leather tie, and made my way toward the
door. I pulled it open and looked around, but didn’t see anything at first. I
ventured away from the hut, following the noise, and came to a crowd of
villagers. They were in a circle, and I could see through the break in bodies
two massive men fighting.
And one of them was Gunnar.
The closer I got to the crowd, the more people noticed me. They parted,
letting me in, allowing me to see the fight. No, this wasn’t a fight but training.
I could only stand there and watch as Gunnar and another huge man
fought. They had axes, sparring with each other. Their bodies were corded
with muscle, their strength saturating the air, covering me, making me feel
immensely feminine. I couldn’t take my gaze off Gunnar. He fought with a
focused, controlled expression, his movements strategically placed, precise. I
was transfixed as I watched them fight hand-to-hand. Although they were
equally matched—or appeared so in height and weight—I could see the skill
in Gunnar’s moves.
He said something to the other man in their native tongue. Giving him
instruction, I realized.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as I watched Gunnar. He moved as
if he were a wild animal, stealthy, experienced. I was drunk off him, the sight
of this man all mine, this beast of a male that protected what was his, even if
that meant killing.
It seemed like days I stood there watching them, transfixed by them. But
then Gunnar got the upper hand, taking the other Viking down, making him
surrender. Gunnar was sweating, his wide, muscular chest heaving up and
down from the exertion. He held his hand out, helping the other male up.
They gripped each other’s forearms, a warrior’s touch.
The other man left the center of the circle, and when I turned my focus
back to Gunnar, I saw that he watched me. My heart thundered at the heavy-
lidded look he gave me, the heat between us, the chemistry I knew he felt as
well, moving between us powerfully.
“Your turn, sweetness.”
I swallowed, feeling everyone watching me, waiting to see what I’d do,
how I’d handle myself.
I reached out and took the ax he offered, the weight almost making my
arm drop to my side. But I held it, kept it up, not letting the blade touch the
ground.
“Show me how you protect yourself.” He stood before me, his ax at the
ready, although I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, knew he wouldn’t let anything
happen to me. He wanted me to be able to protect myself if I had to, if the
time ever came.
Someone beside me handed me a shield, and coupled with me holding the
ax, my arms ached, the burn settling into my muscles.
“I’d never let anything harm you,” he said softly. “But I need you to be
able to handle yourself in case.”
All I thought about in that moment were those beasts coming to my
village, trying to take what wasn’t theirs.
And then Gunnar came forward, his eyes focused on me.
“Always keep your gaze on the other person, but also watch your sides.”
He made a show of looking side to side. “Enemies will come at you from all
directions. You have to be ready for anything.”
I nodded. My throat was tight, my heart racing. He came forward even
more, his movements slow. When he lifted his ax, I raised the shield. He was
going so slow it was easy enough for me to block his blow. I felt like I was
holding my breath.
“Now come at me, ax raised, arm straight. You want to hit me here,” he
said and hit his chest with the hand that held the ax. “You want to make sure
you get a fatal blow, that they can’t come back at you.” He took a step closer.
“Because they will, Ingrid. They’ll come after you if you don’t hit them
where it counts at the first go.”
I swung my weapon, knowing how to handle myself to a degree, but
nothing like how these warriors had been trained.
He blocked the move.
Over and over we did this, sparring with each other, playing this game of
swinging and blocking. I knew he was going easy on me, but I felt pride in
myself for holding up, for keeping this going. I was a strong woman in my
own right, and I wouldn’t be brought down. Gunnar saw that in me, could see
that I was an equal. That was one of the reasons I had fallen for him.
That realization slammed into me.
I had fallen for him, saw my life tied with his, and didn’t want that to end.
My thoughts made me falter, and Gunnar was on me, his big body pressed
to mine. “Be alert. Always.”
I moved back but tripped over my own foot. I went backward, my ax and
shield falling from my grasp. Before I hit the ground, Gunnar had me, my
body pressed tightly to his, his strength cradling me, protecting me.
I called up the little training I did have and jabbed my leg out. He must
have anticipated it because he blocked the move and backed away. He had a
grin on his face.
“Good, Ingrid. Very good, my wife.”
He came at me, to subdue me. I blocked him and kicked out. My leg
coming in contact with his body was slightly painful, but it made me feel
alive.
“I have a little warrior on my hands,” he said, grinning. And then he had
me in his arms before I could stop him. I was panting, breathing so hard I felt
dizzy. Sweat beaded my brow, sliding down the valley between my breasts.
He watched me, the amusement fading the longer we stared at each other. He
started breathing harder too, and I felt his arousal press against my belly, that
huge iron rod of a cock that had stretched me so good the night before.
I was getting aroused.
 For so long neither of us moved, didn’t even speak. We shared the same
air, our focuses locked, the fact that people were around us, watching us, not
even a concern. I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself leaning
in and kissing him, needing his mouth on mine.
He groaned, reached behind me, and took hold of my hair in his fist. I
loved the sting of pain, that tug of him controlling me, owning me. I felt us
moving backward and let him carry me away, the fighting forgotten.
When I pulled back, I saw we were in the hut again, the privacy
surrounding us. Although truth was I wouldn’t have cared if everyone saw us,
if they watched what my husband, my Viking did to me. I stared into his eyes,
saw fire in the blue depths, icy flames of passion, of need. I knew what was
about to happen, where this was headed. I was pleasantly sore from last night
and ready for more.
I knew I’d always be ready for more with Gunnar.

Gunnar

I STARED AT MY WIFE, the cream dress she wore, the flowers on her head,
around her crown, making her seem like a gift from the gods.
She is a gift from Odin, my own prize to forever cherish.
We held our swords up, touching them, sealing our union. The words
being spoken, tying us together, having this union official, played through me.
I was stronger because of Ingrid. Everyone watched us, my loved ones, my
people.
Her people now.
When the sword ceremony was finished, we held hands, a woven piece of
fabric tied around them and our arms, bonding us. All the while Ingrid smiled,
her gaze locked on mine, the truth and genuine emotions for me clear. I loved
this female, had since the moment I stared into her wide blue eyes, her face
covered in our enemy’s blood.
And then she was mine in the eyes of my people and our gods. I pulled
her in, cupped the back of her head, and kissed her. I didn’t have to make a
huge show of this, but I wanted to. I wanted everyone to see she was mine,
that I’d show her how I felt for her, how she made me feel, no matter where
we were. When I pulled away, the cheering of our people was loud,
surrounding us, making us whole.
“My wife,” I whispered. I cupped her face, kissing her over and over
again, never able to get enough. She’d come with me, taken a chance on the
unknown. She was so strong.
“A feast fit for the gods.”
Everyone seemed to roar out in unison. Ingrid laughed, her smile wide,
her eyes bright. I pulled her against my side, and together we turned and
looked at our people. They cheered, waving flowers, colorful cloths and flags
in the air.
This was what I’d been missing, what I’d been searching for, fighting for.
I just hadn’t realized it until Ingrid came into my life.

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 EPILOGUE

Gunnar

I watched as the pleasure washed over Ingrid’s face, saw her cheeks flush
further, her mouth part, and heard her cry rise above everything else. My heart
thundered, a war drum beating against my very soul, the very heavens, as if
knocking on the gods’ door.
“Gunnar,” she whispered, and I came right then, filling her up, making her
take all my seed. When she’d wrung me dry, my balls emptied in her tight,
warm pussy, I slowly pulled out of her. Our bodies were dotted with
perspiration, and I didn’t stop myself from leaning forward and running my
tongue between her breasts. She tasted salty and sweet, and all mine.
I collapsed beside her, breathing like the winds that whipped around our
longship when we sailed. Looking at Ingrid, I was struck by my love for her,
by the fact that I made her smile daily.
“You’re happy, sweetness?”
She had her eyes closed, but the smile she gave me told me she was. That
had pride filling me.
“I am,” she whispered. I pushed the damp hair from her face, slid my
finger along her jawline, over her neck, and kept descending. “They’ll be
waiting for us.”
I grunted, not caring if the other warriors were in the main hut with mead
and food. I’d rather starve and please my wife any day. “Tell me you’re
happy, that I make you that way.” She turned over and faced me, and I slid my
hand down her belly. My child rested in there, safe, warm, healthy. She had
her hand over mine, her smile still in place.
“You make me happier than I can put into words.”
I leaned down and kissed her, taking in her very breath, the very essence
of her.
“Do you wish things were different, that you could change your decision
with me?”
She shook her head instantly. “Never,” she whispered. “This is where I
belong. I knew that the moment I looked into your eyes back in my destroyed
village. I knew I was meant to be here with you. I can’t explain any of it, but I
don’t want to. I want to be able to enjoy this, to not worry about anything else
because I know this is where I’m supposed to be, by your side.”
I pulled her in close, kept her tucked against me, my hand on her belly,
my life content. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. Right here.
With me.”

Ingrid
Nine months later

“SO STRONG, so beautiful.”

I could hear Gunnar, but my heart was thundering in my ears, my body
was damp with sweat, and the pain I felt racked my entire body. But this was
all worth it. I was going to have our baby. Our lives would change for the
better. The scent of herbs burning and the traditions of our people surrounded
us.
And then my child was born—our son or daughter—and it felt like the
heavens opened up, brought down the gods and Valhalla itself into my life.
The little cry that came through was one of a warrior. Whether boy or girl,
this little baby would be strong, would be proud of where he or she had come
from.
“A son,” Gunnar said with pride. I felt my smile stretch across my face.
Once the baby was cleaned and wrapped in warm cloth, Gunnar handed
him to me.
“A son, Ingrid.” He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “You
make me so happy.”
I smiled up at my husband. Then we both looked down at our son.
“Little Lachlan,” I whispered, touching his head, the blond hair like the
softest fur I’d ever felt.
“He’ll be strong, know how to fight, to defend.”
I nodded.
“He’ll know that his family, his people love him.”
I looked at Gunnar then. “He’ll know of our history, of our path,” I
supplied. Gunnar rested his forehead on mine, and we breathed the same air.
Family wasn’t just about Gunnar and me together. It wasn’t just about the
baby we’d welcomed into our community.
It was about the world we were in, the people that surrounded us, and the
love we had for each other. I knew without Gunnar, without me agreeing to
come with him, my future would have been bleak and dark.
It was my Viking that made my world bright, made me look at each day
with a positive attitude, and brought this little baby into our lives.
Together we were stronger than anything else.
He was my Viking, and I was the strong woman by his side.

The End

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 EXCERPT: YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN MINE (YOU’RE MINE,
2)

Erik
Welcome back: Twelve years later

I t had been so damn long since I’d been back to this town.
Twelve years.
One hundred forty-four months.
 Six hundred twenty-five weeks.
Four thousand three hundred and eighty days.
It seemed like a lifetime ago.
It was a lifetime ago.
But I never stopped thinking about her.
I stared at the sign that greeted us. Blue Springs. The town I’d moved
away from all those years ago. I was a different person now, a man. I was a
Marine, had seen violence, horror. I had a bad leg to show for it, scars, a
memory of what I’d done in my life. My memories held darkness and pain,
but it wasn’t just about getting injured while fighting that stayed with me, that
coated me like this thick second skin.
It was about who I’d left behind.
The town held so many memories for me. When I’d first left, as a child,
not knowing how to cope, I’d cried myself to sleep so many times.
“Can you believe we’re back here after all this time?”
I turned and looked at my mom. I knew she was tired, scared, and pissed
most of all. But she put up a good front. She stayed strong, and I knew it was
because of me. Even if I was a grown man now and should be taking care of
her, still she tried to shelter me. Even though I’d seen war and death, been on
the receiving end of it all, still she was a mother.
I knew it was for me.
I reached out and took her hand in mine. “Everything will be fine. I’m
here now, he’s out of our lives, and we can start over.” Well, it was starting
over in the place we began, but she knew what I meant, I was sure.
And if I ever saw my father again, I’d kick his ass.
Not only did we uproot our life all those years ago because of his new job,
but it was only recently that we found out he’d been banging the office
secretary for the last five years.
He threw away his family for a piece of ass, a twenty-something-year-old
piece of ass at that.
My mom smiled. I was really proud of her for not putting up with his
bullshit and having the strength to leave. I rubbed my leg absently.
“Is it bothering you?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“No. It’s just a habit.” When a bomb had gone off, shrapnel had gone
straight into my leg. Now I had a scar that ran the length of my thigh to my
knee. I told myself things happen for a reason. Although I was no longer on
active duty, I’d earned a Purple Heart, and was now home to be with my mom
during this shitty time.
She left, and I left with her.
No way in hell would I let her do this alone. Even at twenty-two I knew I
had to be there for her. I could finish school in Blue Springs. I’d already
applied for the spring semester at the community college, and I’d find work
somewhere.
“I hate that we had to leave all those years ago, only to come back and
stay with your cousins and aunt.”
I shrugged. “It’s better than staying there with that asshole.” I had my
hands on my thighs, wanting to punch him right in his fucking face.
“He’s still your father. Don’t talk about him like that.”
I clenched my teeth but was respectful enough not to say anything else. I
could have said a shitload about him. Him fucking that woman explained a
lot; why he’d seemed distant, stayed later, was gone on “business meetings”
on the weekends. He’d neglected us to get his dick wet.
Yeah, I had no fucking sympathy for that bastard.
Silence stretched on for long minutes, and my thoughts went back to all
those years ago, to happier times, to a person that hadn’t ever let me down.
Paige Masterson.
She’d been my best friend since kindergarten, and for the next four years
we’d been inseparable. Leaving her behind when we moved had been the
hardest damn thing I’d ever done. I might have only been a child, but even
now I still remembered her. I remembered the sweet smell of her and how she
made my heart race.
“It’s a shame you lost contact with Paige,” my mother finally said,
breaking up the silence.
I stared out the passenger side window.
It was a fucking tragedy that we lost contact. But I was back in town now,
and I had the rest of my fucking life to make it up to her, to be there for her in
all the ways that counted.
I thought back to how it had all gone away, how we’d drifted apart. I
should have tried harder, been a better friend.
For a year after we moved I wrote to her every day. And if I was lucky I
was able to call her. But back then my parents didn’t have a cell phone with
unlimited minutes. We didn’t have the Internet where I could Skype with
Paige. I was at the mercy of letters, a calling card if I was lucky, or my
parents being generous and letting me call her long distance.
But seeing her again, actually coming back to Blue Springs back then
wasn’t an option, not when it was a three-day drive straight through, and I
didn’t have my license. My parents also couldn’t afford a plane ticket.
And by the time I was old enough and had enough money, we’d drifted
apart, to my devastation.
So those few phone calls had been my saving grace.
 But as the years went on, those letters we wrote back and forth grew less
and less. Schoolwork, friends, and the distance put this wedge between us. I
hated that it had come to that, loathed that we hadn’t tried harder to stay
connected. Then I’d gone into the military right out of high school. Four years
later and here I was now, coming back, wounded, my heart still beating for
one girl.
“Yeah, it’s a shame.”
It is a fucking tragedy.
But I never forgot about Paige.
I never stopped thinking of her as my best friend, never stopped seeing
her as my soul mate.
And coming back to town had this excitement tunneling through me the
likes of which I’d never felt.
“Although she won’t recognize you,” my mom said and started laughing.
She glanced at me, eyeing my arms and neck. “You went crazy with the
tattoos and working out. I doubt even your cousins will recognize you.”
The working out wasn’t just for my sanity, but because I had to be strong
to be a Marine. Not just in body but in mind, as well.
I stared out the window again, thinking about her, imagining what she’d
look like now. We might have sent pictures back and forth as the years passed,
but I hadn’t seen one of her since we were thirteen years old. Was her dark
hair still long and wavy? Did her blue eyes pop with color still? The last time
I’d physically seen her had been when I was a devastated ten-year-old,
wanting to hold her tight and not let go. I could still hear her voice in my
head. How much had she truly changed?
As drastically as me?
God, I want to see her so badly.
Even through the shit storm that was our current situation, I’d anticipated
coming to Blue Springs and reconnecting with Paige. I had no doubt it would
be like I’d never left. You don’t have a friendship like that without knowing
that person even a thousand years later.
But the one thing that stuck with me, like a living nightmare of reality,
was the possibility that she had someone. Hell, she was twenty-two now, the
same age as me. For all I knew she could be married, have children.
The very thought of her with someone else, of having a family without
me, made me so damn anxious I shifted on my seat.
No, I wouldn’t go there. If it came to it and I found out she did have
someone, that she was happy, I’d gladly take her in my life as a friend.
I’d take her any way I could have her.
Are you sure you can just let go like that, though?
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Find Jenika at:

@jenikasnow
jenikasnow

www.jenikasnow.com
Jenika_Snow@yahoo.com

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