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Sin Like a Champion

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Watching her sister across the grand table, the Saxon princess couldn’t hold back her judgmental scoff. She was certain her whole family had lost it. First, her father for trying to make peace with the Northmen and inviting them to dine, and now her sister was shamelessly flirting with the two brutes seated on either side of her.

She shook her head and subtly crossed herself before continue to pick at her food.

“What was that?” an accented voice asked from her left. It was the youngest of the viking brothers, a cripple with dark hair and bright eyes. “That gesture, what is it?” He waved his hand in front of himself, loosely mimicking her as she avoided looking at his face. The Chaplin had warned her that the devil would be enticing, but she had not expected him to be so handsome.

“It protects my virtue, so I may still vie for a place in the kingdom of heaven even though my father commands me to entertain such vile company,” she explained with a curt tone, hoping to cut off the conversation before it began.

“Yes I’ve heard about this kingdom, tell me how does one enter?” He lifted a leg of chicken to his lips, tearing the meat from the bone with his sharp teeth as he spoke.

“You cannot, I’m sure.” He tilted his head, confused by her response as she finally lifted her chin to make eye contact with him. “You are a godless heathen. You and your people revel in sin, you’ve never even been to confession.”

He pursed his lips, nodding in agreement before taking a swig from his goblet. “This is true. From what I’ve been told, by your good book’s standards I sin like a champion.”

His keen grin returned as he leaned in, closer to her ear. The young princess unintentionally bit her lip in response to his devious expression and sudden proximity. She shuddered at the way his warm breath danced across her cheek, the white veil over her head now the only barrier between his lips and the shell of her ear. She fought down the lurch in her stomach, trying to remind herself who this was and that the last thing she wanted was to be so intimate with him.

“Do you want to hear my confession? My greatest sins?” he continued subtly bringing one hand to rest on her knee. The low grumble of his voice ignited goosebumps along her arms and his touch sent a shudder down her spine. “I could whisper them to you with my head nestled between you thighs. Spell out each one with my tongue between your wet lips.”

The princess let out a yelp, nearly falling from her seat at his proposal. Suddenly the pair had the attention of everyone seated around the long oak table. Her cheeks flushed under the scrutiny, eyes dropping to her lap while she busied her hands with straighten her skirt. the heathen prince leaned back in his seat, giving a out a bark-like laugh, all the while keeping one arm draped across the back of her chair.

Ivar was enjoying this game and no where near ready to stop playing with her yet.