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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Mastered by the Viking King by Lily Harlem – Extended Preview

Mastered by the Viking King by Lily Harlem – Extended Preview

Tove clung to Njal’s shoulders, her muscles quivering as she tried to relax. She did like kissing him, she knew that already. His warmth, his taste, his smell, it all made her crave more of his mouth upon hers.

He stroked her hair, then slid his finger down her cheek to her jawline. From there his hand went lower, to her neck, gripping it, a gentle hold.

Her eyes flew open and she stopped kissing him.

He slipped to his side, fixated on where he held her.

With every beat of her heart, Tove was acutely aware of how big and powerful he was. He could kill her as easily as he could squash a midge, or step on an ant. She was a small scrap of skin and bones compared to his bulk and vigor.

The hold on her throat released.

She dragged in a deep breath.

His touch slipped to her right breast. He cupped it, stroking his thumb over her nipple.

Her breasts were heavier now, swollen. Her nipples suddenly sensitive, harder than ever before.

“These will ripen as you eat more,” he said. “But I do like them small. Perfect for my hold. Watch.”

She did as he asked, as his big, dark hand entirely covered her breast.

“And your cunny,” he said. “After this first time it will take my cock easier. In fact, you will beg for it.” He skimmed his fingers over her belly, tucking them into her pubic hair. “But now you must prepare for pain.”

“I understand.” She clenched her muscles.

“Wanda told you?”


“Did she tell you that pain goes with love the way light goes with dark, winter with summer, and the land with the sea?”

Tove shook her head.

“It is a truth.” He slipped lower, delving between her legs. “Everything worth having must be fought for. This will be your fight, to give us sons. Worth fighting for, don’t you agree?”

“Aye. I wish to give you many strong sons.”

“So, open up.” He didn’t give her chance to move, instead pushing her thighs apart, capturing the leg nearest him under his, to keep her spread for him.

He stroked her outer lips, exploring, stroking, fondling.

She closed her eyes; her legs were shaking, toes curled.

“You must relax.”

Suddenly, he slapped her cunny.

She cried out. “Oh!”

“I wish you would stop trembling.”

“I’ll try.” The shaking increased.

He slapped her between her legs again.

The shock of it had her crying out, fighting to clamp her thighs.

“You can feel the heat there now, aye?”

“Aye.” She fisted the furs beneath her.

“With heat, there will be slick.” He caressed her lower lips again.

She held her breath, waiting for a slap. It didn’t come though.

This time, he found her entrance and eased in.

“Oh, my queen, your cunny is a gift from the gods.”

“Please… I… we should just… do it.” She had to get this over with. A strange ache was pulling at her belly. It went right down to her pelvis.

“I do not wish to rush.” He eased his finger out, then in again. “I wish to savor this sweet, royal entry.”

He repeated the action several more times.

She fluttered her eyelids closed; the sensation was divine.

“You are getting wet for me,” he said. “Can you feel?”


She was, his finger moving with ease, her cunny hot and damp.

He added another, stretching her.


“Do not be surprised. You know you must take much bigger than this.”

She ran her hand over his head, pushing his hair from his face. Her king was so handsome. “I understand that.”

“So, let me touch you, prepare you. Close your eyes. Feel, don’t think.”

She did as he asked and greeted the darkness.

He pumped in and out of her, to the tune of small, wet noises. Then he shifted his hand, the heel pressing her mound, right at the sweet spot she’d fondled in the past.

She groaned, squeezing her eyes tighter. The ache for more instantly increased, and she bucked her hips.

His mouth found hers and he rubbed her, riding into her, over and over, the tempo fast, the pressure firm.

Tove hardly knew what was happening. A delicious coil of need was growing, like a seed had broken through the earth and was reaching skyward. It seemed to be sending its tendrils through her sex, her ass, even to her sweet spot.

His tongue darted into her mouth, the flat of it slipping over hers.

She moved her hips in time with his thrusting hand, taking what she could. The pressure built still more, a great oak tree now, and she finally had to let it go.

With a cry, she grasped his forearm. Tendons danced beneath his skin.

He broke the kiss, driving his two fingers deeper.

But something was blocking their way. He couldn’t press further inside.

She cried out again and opened her eyes. Where he was stabbing hurt, oh, but the pressure was too much to contain.

“Take what you need,” he said, excitement searing over his eyes. “Take it.”

She held her breath, concentrating on the heel of his hand stimulating her sweet spot over and over. Finally, she let it tumble out of her.

With a wail of pleasure, delicious arrows of bliss shot over her skin. Her cunny spasmed, the pressure transforming into an erotic release.

He kept on rubbing her, but pushed higher. It was as if he hadn’t yet noticed the barrier blocking his way.

“Oh!” She gripped his forearm, his shoulder. “Njal… oh… I… can’t!”

His nose twitched, his bottom lip between his teeth, fingers tunneling still deeper.

Then, with a hot tearing, the barrier gave way. A stitch of pain claimed Tove, and she arched her back, pressing her head to the pillow.

“That’s it,” he said, slowing. “That’s it, my queen. Now you will take my cock.”

She was breathing hard, her belly tensing and releasing. She was so wet between her legs.

He withdrew his hand from inside her, holding her legs open. He parted his fingers, a line of blood draped between them.

Fear lashed over Tove. “In the name of Odin…” she panted. “I’m broken, I can’t… oh, you see, I was right, I can’t take you. Not even… your… fingers.”

“Shh.” He half smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “You are not broken. You are now a woman ready to take cock. My cock, a king’s cock.” He wiped a streak of her blood over his brow, leaving a red smear, then he did the same to her. “Great ships cannot be built without felling a few trees. It is the same for a woman—the barrier has to be broken before the hole is ready for cock.”

Tove wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but her husband appeared pleased with her—and himself.

So, that was enough.

“You found pleasure,” he said, climbing over her and slotting between her legs.


“I hoped that would take your mind off the pain of breaking down your barrier. But now, now it is time to take my big cock, and while I will permit you to fondle yourself, I am not sure how much it will assist you.”

“I will take your cock, husband. I will.” She hoped she sounded more certain than she felt.

“You will.” He locked his elbows and stared down at where his huge penis was angled at her entrance. “Oh, aye, every bit of it. You will take me.”

He pushed forward, the impossibly wide head finding purchase in her entrance.

Tove dug her heels into the furs and wrapped her hands as far around his biceps as she could. She’d need something to cling onto for this.

“Open yourself,” he said, his teeth gritted. “Do not hold tight.”

She stared up at his face. His brow was creased, a blooming of color upon his cheeks.

He curled his hips, forcing his way into her.

She bit down on her bottom lip. How could he think this would work? He was so big, she was so small.

His determined drive continued.

The stretching was dense, a nip of pain tugged at her insides as he buried himself deeper.

“My queen,” he grunted. “You are taking me.”

“Aye, my king.”

Oh, but it was sore, and he was so wide and hard. Her eyes welled, a drip escaping each one, leaking to her temples.

He must have seen the tears, for he was studying her face so intently. But still he impaled her, his penetration slow and steady.

“How much… more?” she gasped.

Her heart was pounding. She’d never felt so invaded, so owned.

“Nearly… there.” He reached down, grasped her thigh and pulled it upward to his hip, stretching her, opening her more for him.

His rigid cock sank deeper into her tight wet channel. She was helpless against it.

She moaned and screwed her eyes up.

“Nearly… ah… yeah.”

His body butted up against hers.

“Oh, Njal…it’s so…”

“It is going to be so good. We are so good. Your cunny is hugging me like a noose, it loves me so.”

Tove couldn’t answer; she was struggling to accommodate him without crying out.

“Now,” he said, lowering himself until his chest skimmed against hers, his lips hovering at her mouth. “We will find pleasure together. I will fill you with seed, and make a son on this, our wedding night.”

She nodded, stabbing her fingers into his hair. Pleasure seemed an impossible concept at that moment, but if he found it, it would be so very good.

He rode forward, sliding over her body. His pubic hair connected with hers, dragging over her sweet spot.

“Oh!” Her mouth fell open. It hadn’t felt bad, though. It had been very good, indeed.

“Do not fight it,” he said. “And you will enjoy it.”

He repeated that gentle action, riding over her sweet spot as he pressed into her.

“Njal,” she gasped, raising her head. “Oh… yes, I understand.”

She kissed him then.

Instantly, he took control of the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth the way his cock was sliding into her cunny. His movements were deep and intense, but not wild, and his thrusting no longer hurt.

Now, Tove was concentrating on the grinding her sweet spot was taking. A pressure was building again, one that would need to release.

She had indeed been fortunate to have such a skillful husband.

“You are a gift from the gods. Your cunny is a gift from the gods,” he murmured against her cheek. “And during the long dark winter days, this cunny is where I will want to be.”

“Aye… oh, aye!” She hooked her legs around his hips, holding him to her, meeting him thrust for thrust. Now his cock felt like the perfect fit, and she was so wet and slippery for him.

“Find your pleasure,” he said gruffly. “Find it again, around my cock.”

She buried her face in his bearded neck and closed her eyes. His scent, his weight, his heat had her body singing for him. Soon, she would claim that high point, mountain high, and topple into bliss.

He grunted, grasping her right breast, squeezing it tight.

The sudden dart of discomfort tipped her over the edge, and she cried out, the release swift, profound.

“Ah, Thor, in your name… I… ah!” He grunted, pulled out, then plunged into her, going even deeper than before.

She wailed, his thrusting seeming to blast pleasure harder and faster through her pelvis. It spread over her skin. She shook and trembled as he gathered her close, growling as he rutted into her, his cock surging within the clutch of her sex.

She was surrounded by him, in every breath she took, every heartbeat. Never could she have dreamed sex could make her feel so complete, so close to another human being.

Eventually, he stilled, his head buried beside hers, his breaths coming fast.

He was heavy, but luckily had remembered to support most of his weight. Feeling bold and curious, Tove ran her hands down his back gently, her fingernails scraping his skin.

He shuddered and kissed the side of her head.

She continued her journey until she reached his buttocks. They were warm, hard orbs, and she traced their shape, enjoying her first exploration of a man’s body.

“I pleased you,” he murmured.


He raised his head, staring down at her. “It wasn’t a question. I know I did.”

“Will it be like that every time, husband?”

“When you have obeyed me, then aye, I will make it my duty to ensure you get pleasure from your sweet spot.” He brushed a strand of hair from her perspiring brow. “If you disobey me, your body is mine to do with as I please, with no mind for your satisfaction.”

“I will not disobey you, Sire. I promise that in the name of Thor and Odin.”

“I believe you.” He swept his lips over hers. “Or at least I believe you will try, my little queen.”

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