Ægir’s Bride

Kirsty sipped her morning tea as she watched Monika swing. The storm had finally chased them back to the house after dark last night, but even then she knew Bjorn was reluctant. She was reminded once more of a couple of teenagers sneaking in after curfew. They had stopped downstairs only long enough to raid the refrigerator.

Even at breakfast this morning, the usually jovial Bjorn had remained withdrawn and sullen. Only in her arms had he been the man she had come to love. Even then though that shadow remained. They had made love a couple more times once they made their way to her room. And it was making love, no kinky stuff at all. Well almost none, the man's kisses were lethal after all. Each time though, he had been almost paranoid about pulling out of her before he came. That still hurt, bothered her. Even if she had agreed to give it, him, time.

Of course, Sven had only made things worse with his equally sullen attitude over breakfast that morning. He had barely spoken three words the whole time, but he was constantly sneaking glances in her direction when he thought no one was looking. She was not certain what to make of that...or him for that matter. He had been the one that woken her, sent her to Bjorn, so why the attitude. Other than their 'fight.'

She smiled...fight. It was not like her actually. She tried to remember a single argument with Raj, but she could not. She frowned, was that because neither actually cared enough to disagree? She shook her head. What did it matter now? He had his wife and the baby she was expecting. And she had her...three husbands. She laughed aloud at the idea.

"What's so funny?" Mikael's baritone caressed her mind.

She turned and smiled up at him around the brim of the mug, "The idea of three husbands actually."

He nodded, but she noticed the cloud that passed over his face as he ignored her comment, "How is she doing?" He frowned as he ran his hand through his darker blonde hair, "I really do appreciate all you are doing with her...with us. She seems so much more...I don't know...relaxed. Thank you," he stammered.

Kirsty saw the tension written all over his face, his stance. Something was wrong, very wrong. If it had been Bjorn, she would have simply asked. But though she and Mikael had a truce, she still was not confident talking with him except when it came to his daughter. So she stuck to that and hoped he would reveal whatever was bothering him in time.

"She truly is a wonderful little girl, Mikael. All of you have done so well with her. I am sure that you would have found some way to reach her even if I had not come," she began.

He shook his head, "No, we could never have done this...not as quickly, not like you have. I just wish..." he trailed off. Kirsty noticed him clenching and unclenching his hands at his side, "Odin be damned Sven, why now?"

Kirsty frowned at him, "What do you mean, why now? What has Sven got to do with anything?"

Mikael turned to her, his face dark and sullen. "Sven insists on going back to sea."

Panic rose inside of her. Why she was not completely certain? Was it that this place was still so new, that she could not imagine it without them? Of course, she would miss Bjorn and Mikael. But maybe it was Petrine's stories that niggled most at her mind. Lars. Whatever it was, she was not going to over-react. 'Never let them see you cry.' "Why? When?"

Mikael sighed heavily, "He wanted to leave today, but Bjorn and I insisted we wait until tomorrow morgan at least. As for why? Do you think the great, high and mighty captain shares that with us?"

The vitriol dripped from each of his words. For the first time, she thought about what it must truly be like for them, for Mikael and Bjorn. It was not like they got to choose their career, they were born to it. What's more the very order in which they had been born placed Sven over them. Not skill or merit, though she did not doubt that he had those. But so too did both of his brothers. It seemed intensely unfair somehow.

"We'll just see about that," she said as she placed her hands on her hips and turned to storm through the woods for another confrontation with the man.

Mikael shook his head and reached for her. His hand wrapped about her upper arm and brushed innocently against her breast. The way her body flamed to life though was anything but. She sucked in a deep breath and bit back a low moan that escaped as a whisper anyway.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he cast his eyes towards the ground. That drew her own eyes downward as she noticed the thickening in the front of his jeans. She smiled at the knowledge that truce or no, she could still have some effect on her bad boy. His voice too was husky as he asked, "Where are you going? What do you think you can do?"

"I am going to give him a piece of my mind, that is what I am going to do. Who does he think he is to kidnap me and then just dump my ass here all alone after less than a week? I barely know this place. And while I like your mother and father, even she admits that big bed is lonely. Hell, no, what is the man thinking?" she raged uncharacteristically.

Mikael inhaled deeply, "We already pointed all that out to him, Kirsty. He said that this was our life and you had better get used to it."

"He said what?" she fumed until she feared that she looked cartoonish with wisps of smoke curling out her ears. "Take over here. I have a few things to say to Mister Cool."

Mikael shook his head and tightened his grip on her arm, "Leave it for now, please. Bjorn and I will ask my father to try speaking to him after dinner tonight. I promise."

She jerked her arm away, "No, enough is enough. He can't do this. If Ægir's Captive is going back to sea, I will be on it. If being abandoned like this before I even know my way around is how it is going to be, you can take me back now." Even as she said the words, her throat constricted, tightening until she would have sworn she felt Bjorn's hand on her throat.

But it was the dark look on Mikael's face that kept her frozen to the spot as much as his painfully tight grip, "No, no, we will not. You fucking belong here. You are ours. And if I have to fucking tie your ass to that bed again, you are not going anywhere. I have lo..."

Mikael turned his head away as he released her, "What about her? What about my daughter? She is coming to care for you already."

She heard the tightness in his voice and though he did the best to keep his back to her she thought perhaps his eyes glistened a bit brighter in the morning sun. 'Yes, but do you?' she wondered. The fact that his friend façade had cracked enough to release her 'bad boy' if only momentarily was a good sign...she thought.

"I have to try," she whispered as she turned and walked towards the woods that lead to the dock and the boat. This latest turn of events weighed heavily upon her. Was this Sven's way of punishing her for their argument yesterday?

And if it was, what then? She might have boasted to Mikael that they could take her home, but his threat of tying her to the bed was far less binding than the tightness she felt in her chest at the thought of it. The thought of leaving this place...leaving them. She was not even certain that she could.

***

Sven watched her rage out of the woods. He did not need to guess what was on her mind. The only question was which of his brothers was he beating to a pulp for telling her before he could. He shook his head. He knew how this must look to them, but the truth was that they all could use a bit of breathing space.

Her included. For the past week, she had been passed from brother to brother like a bone among a pack of wild dogs. She needed time to think, time alone to learn this place, their way of life. And if his mother insisted upon sharing family secrets, she could educate the woman on just how much of the time she would have on her own.

At least until she had other things to occupy her mind. Things like a baby. He inhaled as she stormed up the deck towards him. He plastered a smile in place. Let her begin this one, "God morgan."

"God? There is nothing good about it. What do you mean you are going back to sea?"

He loved the way her ears matched her hair then. He focused on that as he began, "We are fishermen. That means we fish. Fish are found in the sea. Thus we must go to sea...often."

"I get that, but why now? Why so fucking soon after dumping me here?"

It was the same question, he had been asking himself all morning. Yes, they needed the money. Their little bride expedition had not been cheap either in time or the money they invested in those false documents.

Then too a few days at sea might give him and his brothers an opportunity away from her to get some things straight...one way or another. He could certainly use the chance to release some of this tension by smashing his baby brother's pretty face to pieces.

But the honest truth was that he simply needed to get away. Away from her for a few days. Some time to think. To clear his head and come up with a plan. Their argument yesterday had shaken him. To begin with, he was not used to arguing with women. Period. His lovers never dared such things. Oh, they might try whining or cajoling but even then he simply moved on to the next one.

But not her. As submissive as she was, she still found the back bone to stand up to him. Hell, his brothers had rarely done that. "Are you such a mouthy brat with my brothers?" the words were out of his mouth before he could censor.

"No, it just seems to be you that angers me so damned much," she replied with her hands on her hips.

He nodded as he picked up a length of rope. His cock hardened at the thought of all the things he could do to her with it. "Lucky me," he chuckled.

"And you did not answer my fucking question. Why now?" she demanded with hands on her hips, which only emphasized her hour glass figure.

"I am the captain. I decide when, where and for how long we fish. I certainly don't owe you an explanation," he growled when she would not drop it.

She squared her shoulders and took a step forward, "That might work with your brothers, but I am not a member of your fuckin crew. I am your wife."

Sven had had enough as he tossed the rope about her waist like a lasso and pulled her forward into his arms. He was fully hard the moment her body touched his. He tightened the rope even more, making sure she had no doubt about his reaction to her.

"Wives have less say than crew, Kirsten. What is the problem? Haven't you had enough cock in the past week? Little Miss Prime and Proper, who went six years in a relationship that was most asexual, you got addicted to it now? Was baby brother too upset last night to fill that tight, greedy pussy with enough come?"

Her eyes flamed, but there was a glint in them that told him he had hit a nerve. Any other time with any other woman, he would have been smart enough to withdraw while he was ahead. This woman did something to him. Got under his skin. Made him throw caution to the wind.

One hand slipped between them and between her lush thighs. His fingers dug into her jeans that covered liquid heat that scorched them even through the rough material. "No more pants. I will make certain that baby brother orders you new clothes before we leave. Or I will fucking do it myself. I want this sweet cunt bare and ready any damned time I want it from now on."

She struggled in his arms, fighting the rope. "Fuck you, Sven. I'll wear what I god damn want. And here is something else for you to remember: I decide who I fuck and when. I am the one that chooses who comes to my bed. And for the record, don't expect it to be you any fucking time soon."

He laughed, "Maybe you decide who spends the night in your bed, but that is not the same as who fucks that sweet pussy. You are in my territory now, sweetheart. On this boat I am captain and I do what I fucking like."

"So you would rape me?" she challenged.

He shook his head as he laughed, "Was it rape the first time I took you, sweet wife? No, challenge me like that again and I will show you exactly what I can do. I will make you so fucking hot and horny and you won't give a gods be damned. I'll have you so fucking mindless that you'll beg me to fuck you. To fill your greedy little cunt with my come and that cute belly with my baby."

He was in no mood to continue this argument so he shut her up as effectively as he could without a gag ball. His lips covered hers, swallowing whatever smart ass comment she was going to make. She continued to push and pull, fighting to get away as he tightened his hold on her.

But by the time, his tongue wrapped about hers, those movements were less about breaking free and more about the way that her body moved in perfect time to his. 'Fuck' he cursed as he weighed his options. He was in no mood to be disturbed by either of his brothers, but right now he needed to bury himself deep inside his wife. To relieve some of the frustration he had been feeling since their last argument.

'Fuck it,' he cursed once more as his fingers moved up and tore at the button and zipper on those damned tight jeans. Screw baby brother, he would order her clothes his own fucking self. And if Bjorn did not like it, well, one more excuse to re-arrange his face. Arrogant little prat, why had he chosen her?

But even as he thought it, he remembered her words...she was right. He had had the final say. He had been the one that brought her on board Ægir's Captive. He was the one that captured her. And to hell with all of them, he would find a way to keep her. He would.

His hands shoved the rough material down her legs as she suddenly realized what was happening. She renewed her struggles as he spun her around and shoved her against the railing of the boat. "What do you think you are doing?" she demanded though her voice was low and throaty. That and the pink stains across her cheeks told him that she was not totally unmoved by his love making.

He slid his hand between her thighs, spreading them as wide as he could with the jeans about her ankles. His fingers found her slick folds. His sweet wife was most definitely not as unmoved as she pretended to be. "What a husband does with his wife...taking what is mine," he growled.

Her blue eyes flamed as she turned to face him, "I am not yours. And I never will be," she spat defiantly.

"Really? You want me to show you, sweetheart? You forget how easily I made you call my name. Mine, Kirsten!" To prove his point, his fingers found her g-spot and he sent her spiralling over the edge of a mindless orgasm. He did not let up either. He pressed and massaged the bundle of nerves until she was whimpering and moaning. Her hips were moving in circles to greet and draw his fingers deeper with each stroke.

Still he would not stop. Still he pushed her higher. He added a third finger, stretching her even more. He felt her cunt tighten around his fingers as he pressed incredibly deep inside of her. Her back arched and she opened her mouth to scream, but his covered it as he swallowed her cries. He felt the wetness as it gushed in a stream about his fingers.

He growled into her throat as his wife's sweet cunt squirted around his fingers. He had been with other women that squirted, some far easier than this, but none fucking sweeter. He ripped at the button of his jeans, tore open the zipper and moved forward filling her pussy with his cock before her body even came down from the powerful release.

It was going to be fast and furious. He knew that. And he did not give a fuck. Whether it lasted a minute or five, all he wanted was to empty his balls in her tight cunt. To seed her again. He slammed forward, burying himself fully before withdrawing almost completely.

It was rough and fast, but the way her cunt squeezed and milked his cock he knew he need offer his wife no apologies. Despite her protests to the contrary, she wanted him. Wanted this. Maybe even needed this roughness as much or more than baby brother's sweet promises and gentle ministrations.

He pounded away at her wet depths as his fingers bit into the ample soft flesh of her hips. He moved hard and deep. He lasted far longer than he thought he would, but that was only by sheer will. But when his orgasm did come it was shattering. It too lasted longer than he would have thought, rolling on and on in waves until he collapsed against her back driving her forward against the rail.

It was a long moment as he continued to kiss those sweet lips, drink her moans and whimpers, until finally he broke the caress. He drew his head back just a bit, but was greeted with tears glistening in her eyes, "I hate you. I really hate you," she whispered as she pushed backwards, sending him sprawling against the hard wooden deck.

Before he could respond, she pulled up the jeans and was running down the plank. Damn it. Why did she always get under his fucking skin? Why could she make him lose control as no other woman ever had? Worse yet...what the fuck was he going to do about? He stood up and pulled his jeans back together, it was a too tight squeeze as his cock was still fully hard, but he finally managed to zip them back up.

He was about to go after her when the one person he least wanted to see at that moment appeared out of the woods. His baby brother stared at him, "What the fuck do you think you are doing? She's our wife, not your whore."

Sven opened his mouth to argue with Bjorn's assessment, but what could he say? The look of anger and pain in his little brother's eyes mirrored his own disappointment in his behavior. He would have apologized but his brother held up his hand, "I'll go after her. I don't want to hear whatever the fuck you were about to say. Just stay the fuck away from her, Sven. I mean it."

Sven nodded...that had been the plan. To get back to the sea...to what he knew. And away from the wild whirlwind of emotions that she always stirred in him. Maybe Ran would hold the answers he sought. Maybe he could find some way to wipe her taste from his lips, her sweet surrender from his mind. But he doubted it.

Oh, he might acquiesce to baby brother's demand...for now. But not for long. Only long enough to figure this damned thing out. He was determined. He was going to find some fucking way. Some way to reach her. Because screw Bjorn, she was his wife too. His, just as much as baby brother's or even Mikael's. His.

***

Bjorn took the stairs two at a time. He was about to knock on her door when he heard the shower running. He knew it would be her so he did not bother to even knock as he opened the door and stepped into the hazy, steam-filled room.

She stood beneath the spray, her face lifted to it. The water must have been intensely hot from the overpowering warmth that filled the whole room, it had been transformed into a sauna almost. The pink blush that covered her curves from head to toe only confirmed his assessment.

He stripped out of his own clothes and without a word joined her beneath the pounding water. It almost scalded him before he turned it down a bit. Then he gathered her in his arms and drew her against him. If the shower had been hot on his skin, her tears that fell on his chest were hotter still as her body shook in his arms, a torrent of them cascading down her cheeks and mingling with the water from the shower head.

It was several long moments before she finally stirred in his arms. Her smile was incredibly weak as she stared up at him, her words haunted him, "Why?" All he could do was shake his head. He had no answer to offer her.

He had never understood his oldest brother. At just twelve, Sven had been practically a man when he was born. His brother had always been gone more than he was home. Bjorn had been closer to Mikael, though even that was short lived as his middle brother too took to the sea. For the most part, it had been just him and Mama with the occasional 'visit' from his father, uncles and brothers. But he had never minded.