No? Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, if you can. Is it surprising she wanted a tiny bit of revenge? Be grateful she chose to ride your c**k rather than slit your throat.
Fiona lifted the bar, now glowing in the dim light of the smithy, in a pair of long-handled tongs, turning so she faced the heavy metal anvil. Taking up a hammer, she began to beat the bar, slowly shaping it in the tightly-curving shape that would eventually be fastened to a horse’s hoof, allowing it to better pull a plow or ride into battle. Harald tried and failed to keep his eyes away form the alluring curves of her arse, swaying as gracefully as the gentle swells of a warm and placid sea.
“Take a break,” she said over her shoulder, and Harald took a deep breath, shaking out his arms and shoulders.
The door to
