Invasion

The smell of blood was everywhere. The charcoal boats they had boarded from could still be heard bobbing against the rocky shores. They hadn't pushed very far to have obliterated their enemy so quickly. Trygg wiped the battle from his face with a rag and looked about. His men were already ransacking the camps of the enemy, bringing whole animal skins, casks of wine and salted meats to the tent is his army's now being constructed. He sat on a nearby monstrosity of a rock and began removing his armor. His pale skin looked almost translucent with the crimson stains that covered him. His blonde hair now pink with savagery. The water at the shore was far too violent to wash, so he made for large, still standing tent in the hopes of a wash basin. Just passed the flaps, he was surprised to find a tub with water still steaming in it. This peaked him, as he didn't see any naked soldiers dead on the field. He circled the area slowly, and behind a wall map, he saw feet sticking out below. A woman's feet.

An anticipation grin crossed his face, as it had been many days since he bedded. He could feel the raw need boiling up in him as he pulled the map aside. A sharp intake of breath escaped him as his eyes flooded over her. The pale creamy skin was typical of the Reds he took, but they were always spotted with freckles all over. She stood gloriously alabaster as a clear canvas. Her blazing green eyes were not full of fear, but defiant curiosity. What he was not prepared for was her hair. The Reds all had different shades of copper, crimson, and orange but her locks were black as ebony, sliding and curling down her supple frame to her mid back. He said nothing, only dragged her against him as was his custom when taking a woman. He froze when she didn't fight against it, but melted into him. He stared down hard into her emerald gaze, asking why yet trying to envoke fear. She only responded with a sweet glazed look and luscious parted lips. He found those lips with his own and jolted at the feel of it. Thor's hammer could not strike more violently. He lifted her easily and carried her to the floor which, to his surprise, he laid her gently. Soon, his mouth was on her again but now to her pink nipples, which he stacked and tugged with greed. She moaned like an angel from Heaven. He moved to enter her but was again taken aback when she moved also and mounted him.

"I've never ridden a Viking before," she purred in her Scottish burr.

"Nor will you now, Lass." He growled as she lifted her hips just above him so he could drive madly into her. She threw her head back and made the most delicious noises. She was milking him savagely despite his attempts to maintain control, and the giggle on her lips showed she knew it. He rolled her onto her back and forced his way back in. She dug her nails into his hips to encourage. Eyes locked, he plowed against her until he felt his orgasm upon him. Without knowing why, he slowed and brought her to the brink once more with his lips on hers, tauntingly telling her to come for him again. They exploded together and a savage sound ripped through him as he released.

Covered in the sheen of beauty, he cast his eyes upon her again. Without intention, he cursed,

"Gods...amazing." She smiled back at him, eyes glittering.

"I have never worn out a Viking before," she teased.

"Nor have you now, Lass," he said, pulling her to him again.