Viking’s Claim Read online Madison Faye (Kilts & Kisses #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Kilts & Kisses Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
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…Utterly and completely his.

My eyes start to close, the adrenaline flooding out of me as start to sink into sleep. I try and fight it, struggling to stay awake, but Tor just chuckles behind me.

“No, sleep, my love.”

“You… what did…” I groan, snuggling back into him and kissing his arms—loving that I’m still filled with his cock.

“What did you do to me?”

“Exactly what I’m going to do to you the second you wake up,” he purrs into my ear. “Now sleep, my love.”

“Goodnight,” I murmur sleepily, my eyes closing, and I know I couldn’t keep them open if I tried.

“Goodnight, husband,” I whisper happily.

“Goodnight, wife,” he growls back.

And I fade to sleep.

That is, until I wake up.

It’s the dark that comes just before the light when I do. The kind of pitch darkness where it takes a moment to see your hand in front of your face. Around me, the entire camp is silent, and so I know it must be very early morning. But still, something woke me.

I blink, stirring as I sit up in the bed. Tor’s big arm is still wrapped around me, and I smile happily as I kiss his hand before gently moving it away. There’s a part of me that pouts that his cock is no longer inside of me as I woke, but I want to roll my eyes at myself for being so… so… wanton. So eager. So hungry for him.

But then, he’s mine, and I’m his. And what I crave I can have any time. It’s a thought that makes me smile wickedly as the heat teases through me. Part of me wants to wake him for exactly that—perhaps climbing on top of him or slipping under the covers and rousing him with my mouth. But there’s a stillness outside that’s just so peaceful and intriguing that I find myself slipping from the bed instead.

I tug on his tunic, which fits me like a dress just past my knees, and I slip out the tent flaps. The camp is fast asleep—even the later night revelers who I’m sure were drinking by the fire up until recently. Beside Tor’s tent, there’s a small stream that flows through the camp—probably why they set up here. It’s not wide—nothing you couldn’t step across with a little jump, and my eyes follow it through the camp before tracing it back to Tor’s tent, and then the other way, where it disappears into the woods.

I know it’s late, and I know what I really want is bed, back with the man who’s stolen my heart. But it’s so beautiful out, and with the moon turning the little stream to quicksilvers darting through the trees, I can’t resist. I turn, and with my bare feet on the soft carpet of moss, dirt, and pine needles, I follow the silvery stream into the woods.

I don’t get far before I find the little pool where it begins, and through a pile of rocks, the spring that feeds it. I step lightly over to it, dipping a toe into the freezing cold pool and giggling as the iciness. I dip my foot deeper before jumping back with a grin. No, that’s too cold, even if it is beautiful. So instead, I lower myself to the bank, sitting on the soft moss and hugging my knees to myself.

It’s so peaceful, and part of me even considers falling back asleep out here on the soft forest floor, even though I know I should head back. But just then, I hear the soft steps of him behind me, and I grin.

“Oh good,” I purr softly, reaching back for him with one hand as I gaze at the pool. “I was just about to come find you. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Oh, very.”

I freeze, my heart jumping into my throat.

“Pretty if not for the whore sitting next to it.”

I lurch to my feet at the sound of Lord Chauntleroy’s voice, but he’s faster. Or rather, the ten men with him are faster. I open my mouth to scream, but a gloved hand clamps over my mouth, silencing my cry. I thrash, screaming muffled screams into the hand anyways as I thrash to break free. But it’s not happening, and as they start to drag me away, my blood runs cold as I struggle.

I bite at the hand, but the glove is a soldier’s glove, and the man it belongs to just chuckles as he grips me tighter.

“You little whore,” Lord Chauntleroy sneers at me as the whole group of us trample away from the Viking camp, and from Tor.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you? That I wouldn’t still marry you?”

My eyes go wide, staring in horror at him over the mouth over my mouth.

Lord Chauntleroy sneers. “Oh, I don’t want you after you’ve been defiled by those animals. But I’ll still be marrying you. A merger of our families is too important to me to let you just run off to be a savage’s slut.”



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