The Viking Blues: Epilogue 2
The Abbey Medieval Festival, July, two years later.
Sweat poured down Oliver’s back and face as he pounded the hot metal into shape. Making arrowheads was fucking tedious work but they were quick enough to bang out for the audience and gave him something to sell to the other re-enactors later.
He was also acutely aware of Mia watching him from the shade of their tent, running her lustful gaze over his half-naked body. Did he preen under her potent stare, maybe flex his muscles a little more than necessary for the job he was doing?
And if it wasn't for the audience of fifty or more people milling around watching him as his sister narrated the demonstration, he would have thrown down his tools, picked up his wife and been balls deep in her luscious warmth before they'd even found their bed.
It was a distracting thought, one his brain refused to let go of, which made his job--and his cock--harder than anticipated.
Glancing up, he caught the direction of Mia's gaze. It seemed she'd noticed his dilemma too, and when she lifted her eyes to his he couldn't help but grin at her. When she sank her teeth into her bottom lip then slowly released it, teased him with the knowledge of what those teeth could do to his body, his cock twitched again and he had to suppress a groan of need.
Soon, sweetling. Soon....
“Blacksmithing is one of those rare occupations where the tools of our trade have not changed for thousands of years,” Abby told the crowd. “As you can see by the way my brother—”
“So you’re not married then?” a female voice called out from the midst of the onlookers, cutting Abby off.
Ollie huffed out a laugh and shook his head and his sister's lips pinched in a look he knew well. She was trying not to laugh. “To him?" she said, thumbing over her shoulder in Ollie's direction. "No, we’re not married.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day,” a different woman called out, followed by the twittering laughter and chuckles of others.
“Our resident shield maiden, on the other hand,” Abby continued, “is married to him, and trust me when I say you do not want to piss off a Viking bride.”
Oliver watched Mia step from the shadows of their tent, her kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed and her favourite battleaxe in her hands. She looked glorious, a true warrior maiden dressed to kill with a studded leather breastplate buckled over her tunic, carved leather vambraces strapped to her forearms and her long, dark hair braided into a fauxhawk.
Picking up the whetstone Ollie kept close at hand, Mia began sharpening the axe with slow, threatening strokes. The rasp of the stone on the metal blade caused some members of the audience to shuffle their feet, suddenly nervous, until someone called out, “Is it true a wife was allowed to cut off her cheating husbands junk?”
Ollie chuckled at that old chestnut.
“Unfortunately no,” Abby said, with a twist of her lips. “Even the lowliest of men were allowed concubines and sex slaves, if they could afford them." Then she grinned. "But can you imagine if it was true? I mean, nothing says ‘keep it in your pants’ like a dick nailed to the wall.”
As the audience burst into laughter, Mia chose that exact moment to slam the blade of the axe into the large wooden stump by her feet. The blade made a heavy thunk sound as it bit into the wood and the audience jumped, then laughed again, only in that nervous way people do after a good scare: part on edge, part relieved, and a quick check of their pants to make sure they didn’t just piss themselves.
Mia folded her arms over her chest and sniffed, malevolent disdain written across her pretty features as she scanned the crowd, almost daring the women who'd called out to try and take what was hers.
Like she had anything to worry about.
His man-whoring days were well and truly done the second she'd come back into his life.
Ollie’s gaze locked with Mia's and his heartbeat ratcheted up several notches. The lust he saw reflected in her lovely eyes made his dick harden even more, and his need to end the fucking demonstration so he could act on that lust had him slamming his hammer against the anvil with swift precision.
Again he thanked the gods for Abby, who quickly picked up on his change of pace and mood. “I think we’ve gotten a little off track,” she said, then continued with her rehearsed spiel about the history of blacksmithing and Viking culture.
Half an hour later, the demo was done, the crowd had moved off to investigate the next exhibition of medieval life, and Ollie went in search of his wife, his mind overflowing with all the wicked things he wanted to do to her.
He didn’t have to go far. Mia had retreated inside their spacious tent and he found her unfastening her belt and casting it and the assortment of accoutrements attached to it aside.
Ollie slowed his steps as he entered the tent, better to appreciate the view as his wife unfastened the rest of her leather armour and added it to the pile by her feet.
"Where's Abby?" Mia asked, distracted by the one buckle on her vambrace that always got stuck.
Ollie knew he should probably fix it, but then he wouldn't be able to do what he did next. "My favourite sister," he began, taking her forearm in his hands and working the buckle free. Any excuse to touch her.
"She's your only sister," Mia reminded him, chuckling.
Ollie grinned as he tugged the last strap free. "My favourite sister has agreed to give us some alone time. She and Wolf are keeping the girls with them until after the jousting exhibition, so that gives us about an hour before they get back."
During the demonstration, Abby's husband had been put in charge of his nieces. The big man was currently Sigrid's favourite person due to the fact he allowed her to colour in his plethora of tattoos, which made him the perfect babysitter. He'd taken Ollie's now five-year-old daughter and her one-year-old sister, Brenna, to the petting zoo, and would now be meeting up with Abby for lunch and jousting.
"Hmm, you sure that'll be enough time?" Mia said, untying the sides of her apron dress.
Sliding his hands over her hips, Ollie pulled Mia against his body, pressed his hard cock between her thighs. Tracked her tongue as she swiped it over her bottom lip. "It's never enough time with you, sweetling." Then he bent his head to kiss her but she shoved him away.
"You're all sweaty," she said, laughing. "You stink."
"But it's a manly stink," he replied, winking as he struck a pose and flexed his muscles for her.
"Ugh, manly or not, you need a wash, so why don't you get some hot water and I'll grab the soap."
The stern look on Mia's face told him it wasn't a suggestion, and that just made his dick jerk against his trousers, eager to obey so they could get on with it.
Ducking outside again, he filled a jug with the water they kept in a pot near the fire, then returned and emptied the jug into the metal basin Mia had placed on the table.
She closed the heavy tent flaps and tied them shut, giving them privacy, and the flickering of a lantern gave them light to see by.
"Strip," she commanded.
Ollie wasted no time complying with her wishes, toeing off his boots and shucking his trousers in record time, then helped Mia remove her tunic dress. It was a little tighter than the last time she'd worn it, her baby bump swelling her waistline several inches now, not to mention her breasts.
She didn't need that push-up bra anymore. Breastfeeding Brenna had caused her tits to grow two sizes larger, and her new pregnancy was making them tender in a way Ollie loved putting to good use.
As soon as they were both naked, Mia soaked a cloth in the warm water, then rubbed soap on it and washed Oliver's body. They bathed together all the time at home, but there was something so much more erotic about doing it like this. Facing each other, completely bare to each other without even a curtain of water to hide behind.
Her strokes with the cloth were firm and efficient, up and over his chest, his shoulders, down his back and over his arse. She wiped away the grime from his hands and the sweat from his face and neck, and she took particular care of his inner thighs and rampant erection.
But not the type of care Ollie craved from her.
"Mia," he groaned, reaching for her again. "Sweetling, please. I need to be inside you."
She tossed the cloth into the basin. "Get on the bed and wait for me," she ordered. "On your back."
Ollie smirked. His wife's need was just as great as his if her underlying tone of urgency was anything to go by.
A pregnant Mia was a horny Mia.
Once he was on his back on their very big, comfortable Viking bed, Mia joined him, straddled him. Bending forwards, she licked and kissed a path starting in the hollow at his throat and ending on his lips, where she slipped her tongue inside his mouth and kissed him long and deep.
He speared his fingers into her hair and angled her head to give him better access to her, to deepen their kiss further. Mia rubbed her body against his, the electric sensation of her hard nipples and wet pussy stroking his heated flesh made all the more erotic by her sultry moans of pleasure.
"Fuck, baby," she whimpered, reaching between them to fist her hand around his dick. "I need you."
A moment later he was sheathed inside Mia's tight, wet pussy.
Her head lolled back and her mouth fell open but when she rocked her hips, when she pressed herself down on him until he couldn't get any deeper inside her, she locked her gaze with his. Bored into his very soul. "Fuck me," she demanded.
Ollie gripped Mia's thighs so tightly her flesh spilled out from between his fingers. Her body wasn't as toned as it used to be, before Brenna was born. She was softer now, fuller, bore the marks of childbirth in her stretchmarks and the scar from her C-section.
Mia Bennett was the most beautiful woman Oliver had ever known. And he was the luckiest sonofabitch in the world to have made her his.
He bucked his hips as he gripped her thighs, pulling her down as he thrust up. Mia cried out before shoving her fist in her mouth and biting down, silencing herself and making Ollie chuckle. If anyone passing by were paying close enough attention, the sound of their bed shifting, creaking in that telltale rhythmic way that all beds did, would give away their purpose in a heartbeat. Mia jamming her fist in her mouth in the hopes of disguising their fucking as something else was adorable.
"I love you," Ollie growled.
Reaching up, he hooked one hand around her neck and pulled his lover down for another kiss.
"I love you, too," Mia murmured against his mouth, then attacked him with a vigour that matched their thrusting hips.
Ollie felt Mia's pussy tighten, felt her silky heat clamping and releasing his dick, tighter and tighter. She was close. So fucking close. And so was he.
Need gripped his spine and his balls drew up tight. Shifting one hand from her hips, he stroked her swollen clit with the roughened pad of his thumb.
"Baby, yes," she moaned. "Fuck yes!"
Then she doubled down and lifted her body off his, let his cock slip from inside her just enough that she could squeeze it with her cunt as she slammed herself down again, all while he rubbed her clit and swore under his breath. He was ready to explode.
"Sweetling, I can't hold back much longer."
"Then don't," she said, then threw back her head and screamed as her body tightened around his.
Ollie's own orgasm followed quickly and he thrust his hips so hard he lifted them both off the bed, his back arching as spasm after spasm shot through his dick, filling Mia's sweet pussy with his come.
When they came back down to earth, he gathered her close, pressed a kiss to her forehead and stroked his hand over her belly.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, continuing to press kisses to her face and mouth. "Any pain in your back or hip?"
Mia chuckled and snuggled closer. "Are you worried about me, or asking if I'm ready for round two?"
He cocked one brow and grinned. "Can't it be both?"
His wife poked him in his ribs which in turn led to a tickling match which in turn led to round two.
That night as they lay in bed, their daughters curled up between them, Ollie reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Mia's cheek. His wife was sleeping soundly. Growing a baby was tiring. "I love you," he whispered again.
"I love you, too, Daddy," Sigrid whispered back, making him chuckle. She was supposed to be asleep.
"Me, three," Mia added, blinking her eyes open to stare at him. Eyes that reflected all the love and devotion he never he was capable of giving, never knew he needed until Mia fell out of and then stumbled back into his life.
An amazing wife, two beautiful daughters and another baby on the way.
He really was the luckiest sonofabitch around.