Bound by the Viking, Part 3: Consumed (2 page)

Her hips rolled over him, moving with the urging of his hands, guiding her over him, willing her to enjoy him. He chuckled, the sound low and knowing against her cheek.

“Yes, little girl,” he breathed. “Now you’re beginning to learn…”

Aislin sighed, as he slid a hand up her hip to gently squeeze her breast. Her body reacted instantly, her nipple hard against his palm.

“I’ll teach you to enjoy me, thrall,” he said.

He suckled her earlobe, and she found her hands creeping up the hard planes of his chest, enjoying the feel of him beneath her fingertips.

“And, when your lessons have ended, and you are mine… you will love your master.”

His tongue darted into her ear, gently, and his cock twitched against her. Her hands wrapped in his hair, holding the back of his corded neck, her cheek brushing against the course hair of his beard.

It felt so good giving in, if just for a moment, letting go of the voices in the hall, letting go of the worries clouding her mind, letting go of her plans and fears and hate, and just… feeling. Just being his.

This is wrong.

The small voice inside her mind dissipated like fog, as Alrik ran his hands up her thighs, gathering her skirt higher and higher until it bunched around her waist. He kneaded her buttocks again, flesh on flesh, spreading her cheeks, even as he moved against her, making her sex pulse with yearning. Her face was flushed, her chest heaving, when she felt his thumb brush over her pucker.

Everyone can see.

She pushed the voice down and away. Tomorrow was the time for reason. The time for sorrow and rage. But, for one moment, for one night’s length, Aislin wanted to just forget. To rest, even as her body moved and flexed. To rest from caring. To put down her burden, and just enjoy.

Was there harm in that?

Was there harm in wanting to let it all go, just for a little while? Just for one night, in the arms of a man who made her feel so damn good, no matter how much she fought, no matter how much she feared and how much she hated?

Just for one night, with the man who made her body sing…

His thumb brushed over her pucker again, and she gasped. No one had ever touched her there before—she never imagined anyone would want to—but now, as her master teased it gently with his finger, circling, caressing, she shivered.

“I want to take you, thrall,” he whispered. “I need to fuck you…”

Aislin drew her head back, her mouth round with surprise, as she looked into those sharp, blue eyes. He teased her again, touching and pressing, his eyes locked on hers, a look of hunger on his face so intense it almost frightened her.

“But, Master…”

“I will not take your maidenhead, until you are my bride, thrall, but you have so much more to give. I can bury myself in you. Right here, right now. And I mean to…”

His fingers moved lower, between her legs, dipping into her slickness. She moaned, biting her lip as she looked into those clear pools, wondering what he meant to do to her, how he would lie with her, without defiling her virgin’s gift.

When he rubbed her arousal against her tight rosebud, she panted, her eyebrows knit in sudden understanding.

“Shhh,” he said. “I will go slowly, so as not to harm you.”

He kissed her then, his tongue working feverishly, his mouth hot and urgent on hers.  When he pulled back, she was breathless.

“But, I must have you…
Now
.”

His voice was harsh with need, his eyes flashing dangerously. He would not be denied. And when he worked the tip of his finger inside of the ring of muscle, probing gently, but insistently, Aislin knew, she didn’t want him to stop. She would deny him nothing tonight, and take all that he had to give.

Perhaps, she really was learning from this strange, brutal teacher. This barbaric man who made her soar like a bird whenever she was in his arms... who made her shiver like a lamb, whenever he raised his hand, and let it fall on her backside.

He kissed her again, his lips so soft and sweet, it made her ache inside, and she melted into him, moaning into his mouth. His finger moved slowly in and out of her, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through her, like lightning.

His hand ran over her back as he worked, making her melt against him, trusting and eager to see what he’d do next. What he’d make her feel…

“Do you like that, little girl? The feeling of me inside of you?”

Aislin moaned, her lips trembling against his.

“Yes… Master…”

“I’m just warming you up, slave. Soon, you’ll feel what the real thing is like… feel me stretch that tight little body of yours, and make you mine.”

She gasped
, as he inserted another finger, the ring of muscle stinging briefly, then aching in pleasure, as he slowly pushed both in and dragged them slowly out again. Warmth filled her body, heat flushing her face, as he worked his fingers faster, bit by bit, loosening her around him, the sensation making her core ache in a way she’d never felt before.

The chief withdrew his fingers suddenly, and Aislin mewled, wanting more, wanting...
whatever her master had to give her. She gasped as he spit on his fingers, then moved them back between her cheeks, wetting her tight entrance. 

“Relax, little one,” Alrik breathed. “Relax
, and let your Master inside of you.”

She let out a breath, and felt her body accept him anew, her muscles warming and stretching around his fingers. He moved gently, twisting his fingers in a way that made her moan and kiss him hard, the sensation
intense and so tingling, she almost couldn’t stand it.

“Please,” she said.
“Please…”

“Are you begging
, little one?”

Alrik chuckled darkly, but then his fingers stopped, pulling out in a way that sent a shiver up her spine. Then, he reached between them, freeing himself from his trousers. He spit on his hand once more, caressing his length, staring into her eyes all the while, a smile playing upon
his lips—that mouth that could be so cruel, but so beautiful, all the while.

“Then, you shall have all you desire.”

He pressed into her, the tip of him slick and hot, but so thick, it made her whimper at the feel of him there.  He kissed her neck, softly, whispering to her sweet things—words of her beauty, and how soft she felt against him, how much he wanted her, in that moment… All that she wanted and more, until she relaxed against him. His hands grabbed her bottom, urging her down, onto his waiting cock.

She cried out when the tip of him slipped all the way inside of her, her body squeezing frantically around him, so tight and full now
, it felt like she might burst. She breathed in sharply, then exhaled, as he rubbed her back, one hand cupping her breast, stroking her gently as she accepted him, as her body stretched around him.

The sharp sting of pain melted sensually into pleasure
, as Alrik paused, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him inside of her, claiming her in this way, in front of his men and everyone. She barely heard the whoops and hollers of those around them in the hall, barely heard the groan of the lord next to her, as the wench took his cock into her eager mouth. All she had ears for, was the beat of her own heart, caught up in her throat, and the sound of her master’s breathing, ragged and low, as he felt her wrap around him.

When she opened her mouth and moaned, Alrik began to move, so slowly at first, it was torturous, the friction of his shaft pushing into her virgin body
, agonizing, in its sweet friction. He gritted his teeth, groaning through them, as he met her eyes.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he gritted. “Just like I knew you’d be, my sweet…”

He pulled out slowly, until just the tip was inside of her, then pushed back in, his thickness insistent, as it plowed its way back to where she so desperately wanted it. She’d never been claimed like this before, by any man, and the thought of being joined to Alrik now, of having him inside of her, their flesh joining as one, even in this sinful, wanton way, made her feel alive, like nothing before.

It was like worship. Like the candlelight flickering during the dances for the dead. It was like fire and water and earth and air—so natural, so overwhelming in its power, it made her head reel.

“Master,
please
…”

She felt him shudder against her, his ice-blue eyes locked on hers
, as he pulled back, then slammed home inside of her. She screamed at the feeling—stuffed full to the brim, sharing heat and space and flesh with this beautiful, this horrible, this magnificent, man. Her core throbbed against his stomach, her body begging for release. She whimpered, and tried to slide her hand between her thighs to touch her aching nub. Alrik grabbed her hand, holding her wrist so tight, it hurt.

“It is my pleasure you seek, thrall,” he gr
owled. “And your release is mine to command.
Not
yours. ”

He pulled back out and thrust hard inside of her, making her cry out, tears stinging her eyes, although her body was on fire for him with each stroke.

“I own your happiness,” he said. “Your joy. Your ecstasy…”

He fucked her harder
, then, the feel of him moving in and out, past that tight circle of her ass making her writhe above him, her back arching with need and heat, as he bucked up inside of her.

“
It is
mine
.”

He kneaded her buttocks, her hips, his hands settling on the slender curve of her waist, driving her down onto him. She whimpered, her nipples scraping against the rough fabric of his tunic, his beard rasping against her cheek
, as he pulled her close.

When she felt his thumb
brush over her throbbing nub, over the folds of her sex, humming with anticipation, she pressed her eyes closed and bit her tongue, fighting against the tide swelling up inside of her, threatening to spill over, at any moment.

“Now, cum for me, thrall…
Cum for your master
.”

His thumb brushed her in a slow circle, his tone demanding obedience, his touch making it impossible to resist. Aislin screamed as she came apart, her muscles squeezing around him, as pleasure shook her, through and through. It was like lightning through her veins, thunder crashing inside her chest, and not just the frail beating of her heart.

She heard her master laugh as her head rocked back, her eyes closed, as she rode the sensation filling her, until she could no longer tell where it ended, and she began. It was all him—his stiffness, a part of her—his will, inside her mind.

He held her throat as he came, bucking up into her, holding her like a man holding his prize after the hunt, displaying her, even as he laid his claim, his heat filling her from the inside out.

The roar of the men, and the crackle of the fire, faded away, until all Aislin heard was the beating of the drums, and the sound of her master’s ragged breathing, as he held her close, as if he would never let her go.

***

Aislin awoke, shivering and nude, from dreams of bogs and black, reaching branches. Brenna’s face beneath dark water, mouthed silently to her, her face as pale as death…

She shook her head, willing such visions away.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. Her arms were bound painfully behind her, as they were every evening, before she fell asleep, and every morning, when she opened her eyes, but this time, the room looked different. She was farther from the fire, and furs had slipped off her body and onto the floor.

With a start, she realized she was in her master’s bed, instead of her place at the foot, curled up like a cur that found a warm place indoors to rest its head. A glance behind her showed Alrik gone, already, the furs disturbed where he’d lain, the end of her rope tied dangling behind her, as if he’d held it through the night, sleeping by her side.

She sat up with a groan, her back aching, body feeling stretched and sore from being used so roughly, the night before. A flush crept up her neck at the thought of what she’d done, what her master
made
her do, in front of the entire long hall. Shame crashed through her, tightening in her bowels until she doubled over onto the bedding, a sob caught in her throat.

She’d given herself over to him for just a moment… But, it was enough to send pangs through her very blood, until her heart ached so badly, she wanted to scream. Every moment she succumbed to him—every moment she let her guard down, even when he touched her the way that he did—he was winning. He had control, not just over her body, but her mind, as well.

The thought turned her stomach, and she sat up straight, breathing deeply, trying to regain some of her will. Her bottom ached, and she winced, as she remembered the punishment her master doled out, even after he’d spent himself inside of her—used her completely.

When he’d bent her over his knee in his chambers, firelight dancing on the walls, she’d cried out, her body arching, trying to get away from the blows she knew were coming.

“This is for thinking of pleasing anyone but me, thrall,” he’d whispered, his stubble rasping against her ear. “This is for thinking for one moment, that you exist for
anything
other than pleasing your master. Remember that.”