Captured by Vikings (An MMF Bisexual Threesome) (3 page)

BOOK: Captured by Vikings (An MMF Bisexual Threesome)
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Now, though, the desire was pounding through her. Her face felt hot, even as she was pressed against the cold stone of the floor.

In front of her, she could tell it was coming to an end. Thorvald was thrusting into and out of Erik fast now, their flesh slapping together, and he was groaning quietly through his teeth, like he could barely control himself. As she watched, he reached one hand under the other man, and then all at once they both moaned, their bodies locked together, and they stayed like that for long moments, sighing and gripping at each other.

They stayed like that for several moments. Alva held her breath, afraid of being caught. Then, Thorvald pulled back and rolled over, staring up at the ceiling.

Neither of them said a word, and Alva crept quietly back to her own bed, hoping that they were asleep and couldn’t hear her.

There was no more noise from the other side of the curtain. Eventually, the pounding ache in Alva’s loins lessened, and she fell back asleep, still astonished at what she’d seen.

She tried to go through the next day pretending that she’d seen nothing. It was all she could do not to stare at Thorvald while she made breakfast, though, and she blushed and looked at the floor whenever Erik made eye contact with her.

Finally, at dinner, he spoke up.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked. “You’re meek as a mouse in a room full of cats.”

True to form, Alva blushed and looked down at the floor.

“Nothing,” she said, and even she knew it wasn’t convincing.

As she tried to walk away, he caught her by the wrist and pulled her back toward him. Alva held her breath for a moment. This was what Duncan had done when he was about to strike her, and instinctually, she flinched.

He looked at her hard, and something inside her stirred. It was different from the way he usually looked at her, and all of a sudden, she felt that deep, aching pulse begin again.

“Come on,” he said, trying to make his voice sound light. “Tell us.”

“It’s nothing.”

Erik yanked on her wrist again and this time Alva stumbled, tripping over herself, and landing hard on Erik’s lap. He caught her easily, both arms around her now.

Her heart beat even faster. What would happen if they knew what she’d seen?

Across the table, Thorvald leaned in, his blue eyes flickering in the firelight.

“You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

One of Erik’s hands was on the small of her back, the other on her knee, squeezing.

“You’ve been asking lots of questions lately,” Thorvald went on. Alva couldn’t tell what he was doing — he was half teasing, half serious, and she had no idea what to make of it. She swallowed and forced herself to meet his gaze.

“Wanting to know why we’re not married,” Erik said. His hand was creeping up her leg, still on the outside of her skirts, and she was beginning to have trouble focusing. All she could think about was watching the two of them, the night before, and how it had made her feel so
strange
.

“I think you’ve figured that one out,” Thorvald said, still smiling. “Didn’t you, last night?”

Alva gasped, then held her breath. She could feel herself turning bright red, but she was afraid to say anything. What if they were baiting her, waiting to kill her if she said the wrong thing?

Erik leaned forward suddenly, pushing his face into her neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there. Alva closed her eyes and a shiver went down her spine.

“There’s room for another,” he said. His warm breath tickled her, and her lips parted just a little. She felt the pulse between her legs even harder.

Finally, for once, she knew
exactly
what she wanted, even though it frightened her.

Erik’s warm lips closed on her flesh, and he trailed tiny kisses and bites from her jaw to her collarbone, making Alva sigh with pleasure.

“I ought to be jealous,” Thorvald said, across the table, still watching intently.
 

Alva’s eyes flew open in alarm, but Thorvald only laughed.

“I said, ‘ought to be,’” he said, standing from the bench where he sat. “But why be jealous when I could join in?”

With that he walked to stand behind Erik. He took the other man’s jaw in one hand and tilted his face up, kissing him hard on the lips, Alva still sitting on his lap. She took the chance to catch her breath and try to make any sense of what was happening, but then Thorvald’s hand was on her leg, lifting her skirts away from her, diving underneath them and touching her skin.

“Oh,” she said, very quietly. She was shocked at the gentle touch of his rough fingers, but was even more shocked at the strong, immediate reaction her body had.

The pulse deep down between her legs became furious, and Alva was desperate for his hand to move higher and higher, to touch her there, between her legs...

Without realizing it she’d shifted, leaning against the table, using her back to lift herself up a little bit off of Erik’s lap, offering herself to Thorvald’s hands moving underneath her skirt. Though his hand was on her, he’d leaned his head down into Erik’s neck, where he was now biting and sucking on the other man’s skin where his beard ended.

Erik grunted, his eyes half-closed in pleasure, as Alva blushed and struggled and gasped. She wanted Thorvald’s hand higher — she wanted it
on
her,
in
, her, but she was still afraid to take it and move it herself, so she tried to coax it higher somehow, by sliding downward, hoping that it wound wind up where she wanted it.

Suddenly, Erik’s hands were on her hips, and he lifted her so she was straddling him, facing away, her skirts lifted above her knees. She reeled a little, thinking that she might fall off, but strong hands held her where she needed to be.

With one big, rough finger, Thorvald stroked the very edges of her lips, now that her legs were spread wide.

Alva gasped, and behind her, Erik chuckled into the back of her neck. The two sensations at once were almost more than Alva could bear.

Thorvald stroked her again, just a little bit harder this time. Where his touch had been the barest whisper before, now it was firmer, more desirous. More
wanting
.

At the same time, she felt Erik’s fingers at the top, unlacing the knot that held it firmly around her neck. He tugged her shirt open eagerly, his hands harder than Thorvald’s, pulling Alva just a little.

When he reached her linen shift, the thing she wore beneath her dress, both his hands explored for an opening but found none.

Without a pause, he grabbed both sides of the neckline and pulled, tearing her shift right down the center, suddenly exposing her breasts to the cool night air.

“Oh!” Alva exclaimed, surprised. She hadn’t been expecting that sort of almost-violence from the two men, but something in the motion — the way that Erik couldn’t take the patient route, the way that he instead went directly for what he wanted — made her even hotter.

“We’ll get you a new one,” he growled into her neck, his hands still tugging her clothes away. He found the handfuls of her breasts, sighing into her, and squeezing. As Thorvald began stroking her up and down, his fingers sliding along his slick wetness, Erik grasped both her nipples between his fingers as once, squeezing almost hard enough for it to hurt.

Alva moaned and wriggled against them, unable to do anything else. She had some sense that she ought to be returning the
 
favor somehow, but just then, she had no idea what to do — and besides, she could barely think.

As Erik rolled her sensitive, pink nipples between his fingers, she could feel the low hum of her arousal build to a steady drumbeat, the wetness practically gushing out of her, her body moving in its own rhythms, nearly out of her control.

Thorvald slipped one big finger between her wet lips, testing her channel.

“As I thought,” he said, half-smiling.

“Duncan never touched her?” Erik asked.

“I told you,” she said, moaning as Thorvald’s finger quested deeper.

“We believed you,” said Thorvald, pushing his finger nearly to the hilt. The girl wanted to say something, but instead that finger began to move, rubbing against areas inside her that she’d never known she had. Lights seemed to flash before her eyes, and she arched her back — anything to get herself closer to Thorvald, the source of all that
pleasure
.

“I think she likes it,” said Erik, his hands still teasing at her nipples. Beneath her, Alva could feel something big and hard, something that was getting harder by the second.

It took her a moment to realize that it was Erik’s member — it was getting hard,
for her
. She’d known about sex for a long time, of course. Alva was no idiot, but she’d never really considered it something she’d participate in — she’d thought of sex as something that happened to women that they didn’t really enjoy, that simply got them with child.

She’d had no idea that sex could be
fun
.

Still squirming with Thorvald’s finger inside her, she slipped one hand beneath her and clutched at the long, hard cylinder beneath his trousers. Behind her, he hissed between his teeth, a low growl erupting from somewhere deep in his chest.

“You ever touched a cock before?” his asked, his voice dusky with desire.

“No,” whispered Alva.

Thorvald pulled his finger out of her and for a moment she was disappointed, but then she felt something even wider, poking at her, trying to get through. In surprise, she opened her eyes, but Thorvald’s grinning face was still there, only his hand under her skirt.

“Yes?” he said, his tone low but teasing.

“It’s nothing,” she gasped, her back still arched. “It was just — I thought that was — “

Despite her current position between two big, rough viking warriors, Alva blushed.

“When my cock is about to enter you, you’ll know it,” Thorvald promised.

“No mistaking that,” Erik agreed.

One of his hands left her breast, the other still rolling her nipple between its fingers, and made its way down her belly, past where her skirts were now bunched around her waist, to join Thorvald’s between her legs.

Instead of joining Thorvald, trying to get inside her, Erik’s fingers paused at the delicious little nub above that. He drew a slow, lazy circle around it, not directly the nub directly, but making Alva’s thighs clench and her hips lift off of him, all the same.

“Oh Gods,” she whispered.

Both men chuckled.

Then Thorvald slid two of his fingers inside and Alva grit her teeth, half against the pleasure and half agains the tiny spark of pain that she felt as he entered, but the Erik’s fingers were there, rubbing across that delicious nub of flesh above her cunt, and she relaxed into him.

Thorvald chuckled as both men moved their hands in unison, sending the girl to heights of bliss she’d never known before. One hand gripped the edge of the table as she tried to steady herself, her nails digging into the thick wood.

She felt like she might explode or catch fire or
something
— she didn’t even know what. It felt dangerous, this thing that was happening, yet she didn’t want it to stop. It was like lightning, moving through her veins, quick and intense and unbearably good.

Finally, she was afraid that she might break in two, that something inside her might actually pop if the men continued.

“Stop!” she gasped.

Both the hands stilled, though they didn’t leave her.

“What’s wrong?” asked Thorvald.

“Something is about to happen,” she said, flustered. “I’m sorry, I don’t know, but — something is going
 
on,” she said, gasping for breath. Stray hairs stuck to her face.

Behind her, she could feel Erik chuckle, and Thorvald just grinned.

“Trust us,” he said, and both men began again, this time in earnest.

Alva felt as though someone had shot an arrow of pleasure into her just then, as the feeling returned in spades, and before she knew it, something
was
exploding inside her, something sweet and wonderful.

“Oh!” she shouted as the feeling overtook her, wrenching her insides, rendering her unable to move. “Oh, oh, oh....” Her muscles tensed, unbidden, and spasms wracked her frame.

If I’m dying, I don’t care,
she thought. It was easily the best thing she’d ever felt.

Finally, the sensation subsided and Alva was still alive, though confused and a little sweaty.

Thorvald pulled his fingers from her, and Erik moved his free hand to her hip.

“You’ve never come before?” he asked.

“I suppose not,” she said.

“Stand,” Erik growled from behind her. Thorvald stood and pulled Alva to her feet, her skirts falling around her, her top falling to her waist. He kissed her hard, his tongue questing along her lips, pushing at her until she opened her mouth. As he plundered her mouth with his tongue, her pushed at her dress until it fell around her feet, leaving the girl totally naked.

Behind her, she heard something fall in a pile, a light
clink
at the end, but she wasn’t paying attention. Thorvald pulled her close, and his lather clothing was cool against her hot, hot skin, his hand on her chin, guiding her head.

Then their lips parted and for one moment, he stared into her eyes, the blue pools of his filled with lust.

“Be gentle,” he said to Erik, and Alva turned her head.

The other man had disrobed completely, and she gasped when she saw the proud spike of his erection, sticking up into the air.

For a moment she was confused. She had thought that sex was when a man put that inside a woman, but that couldn’t possibly be the case — it was huge, probably bigger than she could fit her hand around, she thought.

Still, when she thought of it, her cunt pounded again. She’d loved the feeling of Thorvald’s fingers, but her mouth went dry at the thought of this monster invading her.

Alva felt herself gush, her cunt getting even wetter. Erik took her by the hips, pulling her backward until she straddled him, the tip of his enormous cock at the wet entrance to her cunt, her juices sliding down him.

“This will only hurt for a moment,” he said in his low voice.

BOOK: Captured by Vikings (An MMF Bisexual Threesome)
5.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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