Falling to the Viking Read Online Free PDF

was screaming with additional pain as he pushed her down against the wooden table. Suddenly, there was a shout from a man at the front of the large smoky room and it was instantly quiet in the room, silencing even the two men leaning over her.
    She started to turn on her side as an older robust man stepped up on the end of the table walking towards her. Quickly, the man holding her wrist reached out to seize her other hand to hold her firmly against the rough wood. He said something in a deep voice and the man who had been holding her braid sat down to hold her ankles, actually taking one each under his armpits.
    Oh, she understood. The man approaching on the table was important and her nemesis wasn’t taking a chance that her temper would let her strike the big guy. No one struck the big guy, especially a mere female who had just been stripped naked and whipped.
    The big guy stopped above her. She saw the fur boots laced with leather straps to his rough knees he exposed as he squatted down on his heels by her side. His furs were held in place by metal studded leather. There was a cape draped over one shoulder held in place by several gold chains. He had a long beard, mostly grey among the blond that had been braided with small beads twisted in the ends.
    He had the sides of his head shaved, but covered it with dark tattoos. The top was a long grey and blond mix going down the back with bits of colored leather twisted in to hold it in back. His eyes were a pale blue and looked a little bit too wise as he stared down at her.
    “Rodmar?” He looked over at the man holding her hands.
    Now, Kathryn knew the name of the man she hated. He said a few more words. Suddenly, both Rodmar and the man holding her feet yelled something together. It sounded to her like they were in an argument. He raised his hand and that shut them both up immediately.
    He took her braid in his big rough hands and began to unwrap it. Kathryn watched his face with her wide green eyes as he spread her red hair out over her shoulder, even over the hand that Rodmar held with the knife still in it. He said something in a quiet voice, but what really surprised her was that he reached out and touched her cheek with one finger.
    There was a second surprise—she actually heard Rodmar growl. The big guy removed his finger looking and looked up at Rodmar with a smile. Here, though, was where her embarrassment really began, as this group took away what little dignity she had left. The big guy looked the other way, then lifted up the bottom of her garment to her waist, exposing her for all eyes to see. He reached down to push a finger through her red bush.
    She couldn’t help it. She let out a yelp as she began to fight against the hands that held her. Rodmar leaned down to knock his forehead against hers. It hurt, so she froze as she looked into his deep blue eyes surrounded by heavy blond lashes. It seemed that they were interested in the color of her hair. It was different from their blond or light browns. It was different from the washed out dark browns of the men who were working in the fields. But she was left with very little self-respect in front of this entire group. Shit.
    Suddenly, Rodmar was yelling again at the man holding her feet. The guy at her feet stood to out-yell Rodmar. This time, Kathryn did flinch as two large swords and two slightly smaller but big knives hit the table on each side of her, held in the hands of the two men. The room was full of shouts of some type of what sounded to her like war cries. Large male chants just grew in volume.
    The big honcho was still on his heels beside her, looking down at her. He pressed his hand on her chest and she got the message. She lay still, aware of the sharp blades on each side of her. She was surprised when he lowered her skirt.
    When he stood, the room got quiet. Boy, he wielded a lot of power. Now, while two angry large barbarians stood over her, muscles expanded, vessels showing the anger in