My Viking Master

'Blocked on Amazon' special!

Sigurd Thorgest, chieftain Viking, will never forgive that irritating little wench, for forcing him to walk through his village without his clothes. Hilde Greylock, high-born female from a rival clan, is equally displeased with the man who strung her up by her toes.

What do Hilde and Sigurd have in common? Absolutely nothing...except they hate each others’ guts...and they’re married...to each other. Could their lives get any worse?

Move over Erik of the Norse and make way for My Viking Master! With offbeat humor that the Vikings were notorious for, this satirical tale follows the mishaps of Sigurd and his quest to conquer his tenacious little wife, Hilde. Though, surely the gods must be laughing. The last thing in Thor’s thunderous skies that Sigurd wants is to rut on the wench he married. Hilde fervently agrees. To her, Sigurd is an arrogant and nothing more than a repulsive beast and she wants nothing to do with him.


Published: 9/2004
Length: Novella 
Word Count: 29,894
Genre: Historical Romance
Rating: Spicy, Contains strong sexual language and explicit sex.
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)

BSG/332014MAD050314

 

MY VIKING MASTER
By
Angel Lynn


© Copyright by Angel Lynn, September 2004
© Cover Art by Eliza black, August 2012
ISBN 978-1-60394-725-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636


This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.



Hilde blinked several times at Sigurd, rigid in her stance and unmoving. Sensing her glare boring into him, Sigurd opened his eyes. He blew out a puff of air and sat up to glare back at her.

When she said nothing, Sigurd finally asked. “Why do you gawk at me like I have a horn growing from each side of my skull?”

Just to be sure Sigurd lifted a hand and touched his head. One never knew when he would be cursed by the gods.

Nay, no horns.

“Where do you expect me to take my slumber?” Hilde asked.

Sigurd shrugged. “On the floor or the bed. I care not.”

“I will not sleep on the floor!”

“Then sleep in the bed.”

“Not with you in it.” Hilde crossed her arms over her chest.

“I am not moving from my own bed furs, Hilde.” Sigurd couldn’t help but notice the way her folded arms pushed up her breasts. Gods bedamned! He wanted to bury his face between them.

“Then I will find another chamber.”

“I think not!” Sigurd bolted fully upright, threatening to get out of the bed. “You have disgraced me enough in front of my clan.”

“And what will you do if I leave this chamber?” Hilde tipped her head to one side, her pose showing every bit of the annoyance she was feeling. “Makes not a bit of sense anyway since we will announce there was no bedding.”

“I will follow you.” Sigurd wanted her to stay. He wanted to taunt her.

“Uch! Who cares.” Hilde waved a hand through the air.

“I will follow you naked as I am, if you attempt to leave this loft, Hilde Grey…Thorgest,”

Sigurd paused briefly thinking about his surname attached to her first. It fell from his lips comfortably and he thought it sounded rather pleasant.

“You would not dare.”

“Would I not? Everyone in this village has seen my wares already, thanks much to you.” Sigurd threw off the coverings giving Hilde an eye full of the wares in question.

“And here is fare warning, wife.” He emphasized the word wife, nearly in a condescending manner, just to remind Hilde that he had a right to her. “When I catch you I will touch you and touch you and touch you.”

“Touch me and I will scream.” With pleasure most likely, Hilde mused but wouldn’t think to say it out loud.

“‘Twill do you no good. My clan will merely smirk that my largeness is too much for you to handle.”

Of their own accord Hilde’s attention dropped to Sigurd’s groin. She flustered and blushed, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of his...

thingy.

It seemed to be changing in size. Her eyebrows rose as she studied the swelling flesh.

Bedamned overconfident bastard! On that same thread of thought, Hilde was befuddled at how she could move so quickly from desire to anger. The Viking would drive her to madness.

Sigurd groaned. Her eyes upon his manhood was inciting his lust again. Irritated that she affected him so, he mustered his ire, reminding himself that he was forced to marry the bedamned wench who was bent on making his life a misery. He started to rise from his bed furs, hoping to intimidate her.

“Nay!” Hilde held up her hands in surrender. Sigurd chasing her through the village with has arse bared was not what she wanted. ‘Twould be embarrassing to both their clans. “I will join you in the bed furs.”

She then pointed at his crotch. “But only if you cover that up.”

“Happily,” Sigurd replied, lowering his arse to the bed and tossing the furs over his body to conceal himself. “And wipe the worry from yer brow. I will stay on my side of the bed furs. ‘Twill not be a difficult task. Yer body is unattractive to me.”

‘Twas such a morbid lie, but he would not let her know that.

The insult ruffled Hilde’s pride. Stomping to the bed, she climbed in as Sigurd shifted over, putting as much distance between them as possible.

“I am not attracted to your body either, Khuwa.” Hilde reclined to her back, on top of the bed furs. She didn’t care if she would freeze this night. There was no way she was putting her body next to his naked flesh, not whilst it trembled with the need for him to touch her, kiss her, give her the pleasure that her cousin, Drifa had described.

Uch! Her emotions were frazzling. In one instance she was furious with Sigurd, in the next she felt passion. Surely she would lose her mind.

One month was such an eternity.

“Accursed wench,” Sigurd mumbled reclining to his back. He would not allow feelings for the pest to arise.

“I hate you, Sigurd Thorgest.”

“I hate you too woman. Now go to sleep.”

Disappointment seized them both, but Hilde and Sigurd were too stubborn to admit that they fiercely desired each other.