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His lips were on hers

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His lips were on hers. Soft and puckered. Aethelthryth stared at his pale skin with the tattoo across his eye. His beautiful blue eyes closed as he succumbed to the sensation. She closed her eyes as his tongue delved into her mouth. Their tongues danced together, and she could taste the mead on his. So sweet yet masculine. His worshipful soft lips pulled away, and they both caught their breaths. Her hands slid over his broad shoulder to his nape. And then she was pulling him back down to her tasty lips.

She wanted to feel guilty, after all his men killed her father. Yet as his tongue slid over her bottom lip, she seemed to forget he was one of the leaders of these cruel people. His right hand slid over her cheek, sliding down over her hand before settling on her hip. He could almost taste the clarity she delivered the harder he pushed his lips onto hers. She shivered as his thumb kept sliding over her covered skin. Much to her chagrin, she wished there was no dress between his sturdy hands. Aethelthryth remembered how Cyneburga explained that men thought with other head when they had a woman in arms. She pulled back and swallowed hard. Now that she thought about it, she was definitely nervous and not ready.

He tilted her head with a hungry groan, and she felt his lips attack her neck. She moaned like a prostitute, and a blush spread across her face. This was definitely not how ladies were supposed to act. Ubbe sucked on her skin with precision. He was like a starving man who wanted to feast on her flesh. Both of her palms pushed into his shoulders, and she tilted her head back with need.

Ubbe smiled against her skin. She was surprised by her own need. Was this how Ivar felt whenever Ronja was in his arms. Completely engulfed in her presence, in her essence, that all he wanted to do was satisfy. He wanted to hear Aethelthryth moan as he showed her a world beyond hers. His thumb still softly slid over the material of her dress. He pushed closer to her, showing her just how intoxicated he was with her presence. He could hear her moan once more, and her hands clutched his shoulders tighter. His fingers rolled her dress. Ubbe wanted to remove her skirts.

He paused as her hand held his, "Not that." He grinned before kissing her again. Whatever she wanted. His fingers let go of the material, and he picked her up. His lips stretch into a smirk at her squeal as he threw her onto his bead. She scowled at him. He advanced, crawling on his fours above her. A shy smile returned to her lips. He cupped her face once more, his pinky sliding over the base of her neck.

"You look beautiful," he told her before his lips descended onto hers once more. He loved her lips. The desire to keep his onto hers was undeniable. As the kiss got much more heated, he pulled away. He did not wish to pressure her or get carried away. Huffing, he fell beside her onto the bed. Aethelthryth did her best to catch her breath.

He pushed his arm under his head, "Why is it forbidden for your women to have sex" —he sighed at his blunt words— "after all, Cyneburga sleeps with whoever she wants?" Aethelthryth sighed next to him. She liked the peaceful silence better.

"A virgin's body is like a treasure. A priest once told my father that we are all brides of Christ. That we need to be guarded, for we shall not be tarnished before we found our groom," she paused before turning to look at him, "It's just how our faith is." His brows furrowed. That still did not explain why Cyneburga bedded almost half of his men.

She could clearly see his confusion, "Some of us just follow it more than others." Yes, he noticed that her blonde friend, Elfreda, ran from any man that even gave her a look. He sighed. It did not matter, their God made weird rules. Feeling frustrated, he rolled over and pulled her into his arms. She sighed before pushing her head under his chin. The bed felt much more comfortable now. He was used to much harder beds, not these types where it swallowed him. Ubbe's eyes focused on the window behind her. It was still soon, but he didn't mind falling asleep.

A knock interrupted the peaceful silence they established. Ubbe almost growled at the interruption. Rolling over, he turned to the woman in bed. She was staring at him with sleepy eyes. He could hardly believe he had ever seen a more beautiful sight. He pecked her temple before opening the door. Only slightly he didn't need anyone to see her. Arne lowered his voice as he spoke, "Ronja requested your presence." Ubbe scoffed.

"Tell her it can wait!" He tried to push the door closed, but a hand stopped him.

Arne looked ready to piss his pants at his threatening look, "Ivar told me it was urgent. Quite frankly, my Lord, I do not want to see what he will do to me if I deliver a message you telling his pregnant wife she should wait." He scoffed once more. It was true. Ivar would probably skin Arne and then hunt him down. Especially if Ronja started to cry, she was beyond emotional lately. And when she began to cry, he did not wish to be in the same room as her.

He marched to Aethelthryth, kissed her on her forehead. "I'll be back soon," it was a mere whisper, but she nodded back with a small smile. He did his best to not go back and climb into bed with her. He hoped that whatever it was it was good or, Ivar was going to be the one hunted down. He scoffed to himself, then Ronja would probably mount him above her throne. 

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