Divine Charity (43 page)

Take your time, babe. When you’re ready, turn off the front porch light.

She rummaged through her overnight bag and found everything she needed. Glancing at the note, she chuckled quietly.

“A good serving wench doesn’t need panties, eh?”

With the scissors from her little sewing kit, she went to work on the petticoat, part of her cringing at cutting on such a beautifully sewn garment but also knowing how hot it would be for her men to rip it off of her a piece at a time. Considering she hadn’t had any forewarning about this evening, she thought she’d done a pretty good job of looking the part when she stood in front of the mirror.

It was a good thing she was adept at getting into a corset on her own. She tugged the laces one last time and tied them off, did up the row of buckles and straps that accented the front of the corset, and then admired her handiwork in the mirror. The underbust design displayed her breasts generously, offering them up for her men’s’ hands to touch—if they caught her.

The rosy peaks of her nipples were barely visible through the lace of the sexy bra, as was the shadow of the scrap of satin covering her pussy through the petticoat.

“Why would I want to be a good serving wench?” she asked to herself as she tweaked her nipples. “When naughty serving wenches get punished?”

The tension growing in her core rippled through her as she put away her overnight case and her handbag, along with her shoes, wondering where her men were. She heard a thump in the distance.

Giving her wild hairdo one last tweak, she padded barefoot through the living room and turned off the porch light. The shredded sections of the petticoat swished against her thighs and calves, allowing a draft to tease her flesh.

She looked out the picture window that faced the road, her heart racing more with each passing minute. The sun had already set and shadows arched over the driveway from the tall trees surrounding the cabin. Movement caught her eye and she gasped as they appeared out of the shadows.

“Hot holy hell,” she whispered as she stared, spellbound.

Justin led the trio, clad only in leather pants and tall, cuffed boots. His chest was bare except for the bold, black tribal drawings circling his shoulders and collarbones, his biceps, and his cheekbones. The hair around his face looked like it had been caught into small braids at his temples. The hottest part of his costume, however, was the gleam in his eyes as he caught sight of her through the picture window, her feet frozen to the living room floor. He moved with animalistic grace, and his grin was purely carnal as he said something to Val and Ransome and pointed at her.

Val walked beside him, wearing breeches that looked like they were made from the shaggy hide of a mountain goat or some such animal, held up with a broad, brown belt that was covered with brass studs. His calves and feet were wrapped in fur-covered leggings and boots and he had similar markings all over his bare torso. His gait was loose and panther-like as he stalked toward the house, lustful intent in his eyes as he stared at her. His long black hair was pulled back in messy knots, making him look even wilder.

Ransome’s dark eyes drilled her, his lips in a flat line except for the very corners which were turned up in a smirk as though he was already envisioning her beneath him, at his mercy. He wore a knee-length leather kilt-like garment around his hips, belted with a strip of animal hide that matched the skin that was draped over one of his shoulders. His hair was pulled back in large sections and joined to a braid that skimmed the top of his head like a wild Mohawk, making his intense eyes appear even more exotic. His calves were wrapped in a similar hide that was held together with narrow strips of leather.

Three marauding Vikings.

Wondering if she’d just had a mini-orgasm, she watched as Ransome murmured something to the other men and rubbed his palm over the leather covering the bulge at his groin. Her own body responded with a hot pooling of moisture at her rapidly swelling pussy. What were they going to do? The answer seemed obvious and her heart pounded wildly. Besides the fact that they were going to have hell getting her out of that corset, she didn’t plan to make it easy for them. The men responded to Ransome, and then they stopped within a foot of the front deck. Justin kept his eyes on her but muttered something to the men so quietly she couldn’t hear it.

“Someone’s getting fucked tonight, for sure,” she murmured, still standing there immobilized as she waited. Her nipples were peaked so tightly against the lace of her bra that they stung.

Justin lifted his chin to her in an arrogant gesture, pointed at her, and then pointed at the porch, right in front of where he stood, imperiously summoning her. Challenge was in his eyes, mirrored by Val and Ransome’s. No hesitation, no breaking character.

“Oh God, I love them so much,” she whispered to herself. And then she lifted her chin in an equally haughty gesture and shook her head.

Justin jumped on to the front deck, glowered at her, and then took three bounding steps and burst through the front door with a roar, followed by Val and Ransome.

Excitement erupted inside her and she let out an eardrum-piercing scream and dashed for the back door that led onto the deck. Three rough, masculine howls of pure aggression shattered the air as she grabbed the knob and found it locked.

“Shit! I mean shite!” she yelped as she fiddled with the button on the knob, trying to turn it. In her excitement, she couldn’t get it to turn.

“Woman!” the largest of the arrogant beasts growled as he put out rough hands to stay his companions and strode several feet toward her. “Where is your lord?”

Gritting her teeth, she turned back to them, trying to get her breathing under control. “He is away. He fights
your
kind.”

“Our kind?” the massive giant repeated, his abrasive tone raising chills on her bare arms.

“Thieves. Pillagers. You take what you want and you leave everything in ruins. He will hunt you down and kill you for coming here.”

The three of them looked at each other and laughed. The lust in their eyes as they looked her up and down made her nerve endings stand on edge as she fiddled with the damned door knob.

“We left your lord in a pool of blood on the road. I claim this dwelling and everything in it for my own—except for you.”

She faced them, trying not to betray her relief as the lock button finally turned. “Me?” she repeated in a weak voice.

“Yes, you, wench,” he said as he stepped within arms’ reach of her. His masculine scent intoxicated her and his body heat made her own skin prickle in response. “You, we will share.”

With a derisive laugh, she said, “You could
try
.” He glowered at her and reached out a huge hand for her arm but caught only air.

With an angry oath, he leaped for her as she burst through the back door. He caught the edge of her hem and a small section sheared away in his hand before he tripped on the threshold.

She turned back as she heard his knees crack painfully against the wooden deck and managed to trip on her own feet, going down hard on her knees as well.

Well, fuck a duck!

The beast with the hide on his shoulder leaped over his comrade, scaring her until she saw the concern in his eyes as he reached for her. She scrabbled to her feet and ran from him, nearly tripping again on her petticoat before finding the steps and darting down them toward the cover of the trees.

Light reflected from the lake beyond filtered through the woods as she ran, praying for a thicket that was dark enough for her to hide in. Her heart pounded as she flitted barefoot between the trees, ignoring the prickle of leaves and twigs. Heat shimmered through her torso as she recalled the lust in their eyes. Three of them. What would she do if they caught her?

Give in, baby!

No
, she’d fight until her last ounce of strength was gone, no matter how the heat pooled in her nether regions at the thought. No matter how much the momentary concern in that hulking giant’s eyes might have moved her. She didn’t fool herself that he was a gentle male. Matter of fact, she counted on the fact that he wasn’t.

Their shouts carried through the trees as she poured on speed, her feet finding the path and then veering off, cursing the gods that she wore a corset that made running an awkward affair and bounced her breasts with each bedamned movement. “Verily, I hope there are no fucking mesquite thorns in these woods,” she muttered, wishing for footwear as a twig stuck the arch of her right foot.

The snap of a branch nearby sent her hunkering to the ground, cursing the light color of her petticoat, like a beacon in the growing shadows.

“Aha!” the deep voice shouted moments later as a rough hand grabbed at the garment. She squeaked and pulled away from the wild-eyed Viking with the unruly hair and fur leggings.

Cool air wafted around her hip and she realized as she ran that he’d ripped away an entire section of her petticoat, baring her flesh to his gaze. Too many more close calls like that and she’d be hiding naked or worse yet, caught and fucked.

“Wench,” called the leader. “You lead us on a merry chase but it will not change the outcome! Come to me like a good girl and you will not be punished.”

Never was much of a good girl.

“Does that mean you won’t fuck me?” she called out, before flitting away so they couldn’t pinpoint her location.

Male laughter surrounded her from all sides. “Oh, no. You’ll still be fucked all right. We just won’t punish you if you come to me
now
.”

“No!”

“Then girl, you’d better
run
,” growled the beast with the hide over his shoulder and the hungry, intense eyes as he grabbed for her arm. Heart pounding, she leapt out of his reach and scurried into the shadows.

The frightening sound of a masculine snarl filled the air, and her heart pounded so loud she became disoriented in the growing darkness. The snap of a branch came from nearby and she whirled to run down the path and ran right into a broad, hard, naked chest. She looked up into the glittering eyes of the leader of the Vikings.

He gripped her by the arms as she tried to jerk away and this time she couldn’t get free. Heat filled his eyes as the other two brutes joined him. She fought his grasp and kicked out as the other two quickly ripped the rest of her petticoat from her body, sheared the fastenings of her corset and her bodice and threw it all to the ground at their feet.

“Gods,” the wild-eyed Viking in the furry breeches ground out in a husky voice as he cupped her breast and squeezed firmly. Her pussy betrayed her when she grew wet at his rough touch.

“What’s this?” the leader snarled as he looked down at the G-string that skimmed her hips and the patch of red satin that barely covered her mound. “
Disobedient
wench.”

She snarled back at him and said, “I care not what
you
think, barbarian. My lord would never have called me a good wench, or obedient for that matter.”

“Why? Are you lazy?” he asked, giving her a little shake. “Slovenly?”

“No. I would not let my lord touch me as he wanted to.”

“You fought him?” he asked incredulously as he stared at her.

“Yes. I am no man’s whore.”

He gathered her wrists into one hand and tore the G-string down her thighs and calves with the other, nearly tripping her up as he yanked it from under her feet. “Whore you may not be, girl, but touched you will most assuredly be this night.”

Twin growls from behind her assured her that they agreed with their leader. A hot tremor ran down her spine as one of them slid rough fingertips along her back. His touch made her tremble as his fingertips moved slowly, inexorably downward to her ass, leaving a trail of heat in their wake until his big hand slid around and cupped one cheek.

“Are you going to be still now? Are you going to be a
good
girl?” the leader asked, staring deep into her eyes, looking for traces of deception as she nodded her head. Evidently satisfied, he released her arms and lifted his hand to her jaw, turning her face to the light. “Beautiful.”

“Passable,” the other brute, the one with the wild knots in his hair and fur on his feet muttered as he took the hide the other Viking offered him after untying it from his shoulder.

She scoffed and jerked away to shove the insulting brute headlong at a nearby tree and took off at a sprint, laughing at having tricked them. “I’m
not
a good girl. I tried to tell you!”

She panted and tried to keep up her pace but she could hear them, their boots thumping on the trail behind her. Suddenly a spooked deer, a buck, jumped out right in front of her. She screamed and fell backward, knocking right into one of the Vikings and sending them sprawling to the ground.

Though she fought valiantly, the leader of the Vikings used her G-string to bind her wrists together in front of her before carrying her kicking and screaming back to the small clearing where they’d originally caught her. He grasped her by a great handful of her hair and said, “Damned woman! You run like a doe, only to be tripped up by a buck. I think this does not portend well for your virtue this night.”