“Is that cinnamon rolls and…coffee?”
“I asked the witch for this coffee and what would best be served with it. Did she provide the right food?”
“Oh, she did indeed.” He stood and pulled her up. She rushed to the table and grinned as if she’d just discovered a diamond mine. “Have you tried them?”
“No, I waited for you.” That thought warmed her through and though. “I thought it was the least I could do, since I—what was the word you used—oh yes, ravished you so many times last night.”
“I believe it was a mutual ravishment, and it goes well with the one we just added to it.” She reached behind him and picked up a steaming mug of coffee, inhaling the wonderful smell. The brew had been doctored with creamer and she took a tentative sip, then sighed. “French Vanilla, one of my favorites.”
The coffee warmed her throat as she took a deeper drink before offering the cup to Rugoff. He took it and sniffed as if trying to decide its chemical formula, then took a drink. She saw him wince and she grimaced.
“Too hot?”
“I did not expect it to be sweet,” he said, taking another small sip. “It’s delicious.”
“Be careful and not drink too much. The caffeine has a real kick.”
He looked confused for a moment, then shrugged. She glanced at the table where she saw ten cups of coffee and an overflowing plate of rolls. She knew from yesterday the food wouldn’t spoil. It would stay warm, or cold, as needed. It was the power, she knew, of the witch. If it was indeed the woman who had banished him here.
Thinking of the witch made her think about her reason for being here. Maybe they should just ask the witch for a written explanation. She seemed to provide most everything he asked for. Why couldn’t they get her to explain the why and how of things? It would be worth a shot.
She picked up her own cup of coffee, watching as he drank his heated brew, draining the cup and reaching for anther. “You should slow down on that. The caffeine will make you jittery.”
He ignored her and took another deep drink. “I hope she brings more tomorrow.” He had the cup close to his mouth, and his breath sent the steam from the coffee wafting toward her. She smiled as he drained yet another cup.
This should be fun, she thought, wondering how he would react to the caffeine buzz. Maybe it would fuel him to fuck her even harder than he had just moments ago. If that were the case, she wanted him to have another cup.
Venise picked up a cinnamon roll and took a drink of her own coffee. “Is it always snowy here?”
“No, the snow goes away for a little while, then returns. It is when it’s gone that the agent of Loki appears to fight for the key.”
Another bite of the cinnamon roll disappeared into her mouth as she thought about the information. “Where is he at other times? Why does he only come once a year?”
“I do not know.” He finished his third cup of coffee and reached for another one. She put her hand on his and squeezed gently.
“You really should slow down on the coffee. Trust me on this. I’ve OD’d on it before, and it can do funny things to your heartbeat.”
He frowned before shrugging her off and taking another cup.
“There’s got to be some reason why he only comes once a year. If the key is so important to him, I would think he’d be here every night trying to steal it from you.” She tore off a piece of the roll, shaking it at him. “And another thing, why is the witch sending you things when she’s dead? How does she do that?”
He shrugged and a small amount of the coffee escaped the cup that seemed to be glued to his mouth. He lowered the cup and licked up the coffee from his chin. Her nipples tightened at the sight and she looked away. They couldn’t spend all their time fucking, could they? Her body was pleasantly sore, but if they kept it up, she might feel some effects that wouldn’t be so pleasant.
Best to think about something besides sex for a while. Of course, that was hard to do since they were both naked right now. Figuring things out wouldn’t be easy when his cock, which looked so inviting even though it wasn’t hard, was right in front of her, would be difficult. She’d try her damndest, though.
“We need to figure out why I’m here. Mrs. Westergard didn’t push me into that chair by accident.” She glanced at him, noticing his hands were shaking. The caffeine was winding into his system.
“I really think Mrs. Westergard means for me to rescue you. We just need to figure out how to do it. There has to be a solution to leaving this place.”
He paused mid-drink, then lowered the mug. She could tell by the look on his face that he was afraid she would leave, and he would not. He looked as if he’d just lost his best friend.
“Don’t worry, we’ll go together.” She took the mug from his hand and placed it on the table. “Maybe you should eat to try and soak up some of that coffee.”
Rugoff jumped up and down, then wrung his hands together. “My body, it pulses.”
“It’s the caffeine,” she said slowly. “I told you it would do that.”
“I don’t like this.” He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. She noticed his cock was filling yet again and she touched his shoulder, rubbing it gently.
“Relax, eat something. It will lessen the tension you feel right now.”
He backed away from her and started to pace, moving round and round the table, his speed increasing with each lap.
“Maybe there’s something we have to do, like say a spell or something.” He ran a hand over his bald head. “Maybe I should ask her. After all, she brought me you, and the coffee. Maybe she will answer me this time, since you are here.”
The hopeful note in his voice made her heart bleed for him. She grabbed him as he made a pass, stroked his cheek and gave him a quick kiss. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe you should ask the witch the question when she brings tomorrow’s offering. But first you need to eat, you need to relax before you explode.”
He put his hand on hand over his heart and massaged. She knew from her own experiences of mainlining coffee while working on her master’s exactly what he was feeling right now.
Venise put a roll in his hand and watched him take a bite. He smacked his lips as he chewed, then swallowed. “Is everything in your world sweet?”
“Just like me.” She giggled, something she hadn’t done in a long time.
Rugoff dropped the roll back onto the table and kissed her, his lips hard and demanding. When he was done, he licked his lips and wiggled his brows. “You’re right; you are as sweet as the food.”
His hands cupped her breasts and she wiggled away from him.
“You do not wish to join with me again?”
“Oh, I do, but I think we should take a pause. I don’t want to overdo it.”
The hurt look on his face went straight to her heart. “I don’t mean it that way. I love having you inside me. It’s just if you’re inside me again, after so many times last night, and this morning, it will…hurt me just a little. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, too much.” He still looked wounded. “I am sorry I forced myself on you this morning.”
“No! You didn’t. I loved it, it’s just I need a short rest before we do it again.” To let him know how she felt she grasped his cock. “And believe me, I want to do it again. I love your hard cock.”
Pure, animalistic lust once again flooded his features. She stroked him a few times, feeling him swell in her hand. She stroked him gently, wondering if the flush on his face was from the orgasm building inside him or from the overload of caffeine. Would the coffee change the feelings he experienced when he climaxed?
He put her hands on his shoulders and she could feel him shaking. She continued to jerk him, savoring the feel of his hard cock in her hand. If her body wasn’t already sore, she would bend over and beg him to take her. Instead she stroked him gently, working his foreskin, loving the way his facial movements changed as she played.
“Is this good?” She put one hand on
his balls, squeezing them gently. “Do you like that?”
“Fucking good,” he said, frowning when she laughed. “Did I not say it right?”
“You said it perfectly.” She jerked harder, tightening her grip.
Within minutes, he threw back his head and bellowed, “Venise!” His seed coated her hand and she put her ear against his chest, listing to the rapid thump of his heart. As they stood there, she wondered why she would ever want to leave her. Being with him had been perfect once she’d come to terms with her situation.
Then she thought about her parents, and wondered what they were thinking right now. Would they know that she’d vanished? Had they called the police to look into her disappearance? She was their only child, and they’d given her everything she could ever hope for in life.
She had to find a way out of her, for their sake if for nothing else.
“She’s never spoken to me. No one has, until you.”
She looked up at him and frowned. “What?”
“The witch, she’s never said anything to me. I ask for things and she gives them to me, if she thinks I deserve them.”
“That’s very big of her, since she’s the reason you’re here anyway.” Venise turned him toward the table, then gave him a slight push toward a chair. When he was seated, she sat on his lap, picking up a napkin and cleaning off his cock. She tossed the tissue into a barrel that sat nearby then wrapped his arms around his neck.
A day ago, she would have been embarrassed to sit on a man’s lap while she was totally naked. But somehow, this felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m impressed that you lasted here this long, by yourself.”
“At first I tried to end my own life.” His voice was devoid of emotion as he spoke. “But then I realized my father would win. And I couldn’t have that. I would stay by myself forever if it would make him suffer.”
He spoke the last few words with an intensity that made her shiver. “Do you think he’s dead?”
“I do not know, nor do I care. If he is suffering in the land of Hel it is too good for him.” He looked away from him. “But my brothers…one of the things that kept me going was the thought of them, wherever they may be. I was afraid if I harmed myself it would somehow hurt them, also. And I couldn’t allow that to happen. I love my brothers, and my mother.”
Warmth suffused her as he caressed her thigh. “Do you love your mother and father?”
“Yes.” Tears stung her eyes. “My parents adopted me. I was left on a church step in Italy, and they brought me into their family, made me their daughter. They’ve given me everything.”
The difference between her loving parents and his asshat of a father didn’t escape her. “You know how you feel about your mother?” When he nodded, she continued. “I feel that way about my parents. I’m sure they’re worried about me.”
“I’m sure my other was upset when my brothers and I disappeared. I’ve often wondered about her, how she withstood our loss, but yet had to stay with…him.”
His body grew taut and his chest still heaved. It was a mixture, she was sure, of the caffeine, and the hatred he had for his father.
“We need to make a list of questions for the witch. Do you have something to write on?”
His look of confusion answered the question.
“Okay, let me see if I have anything in my bag.” She jumped from his lap and grabbed her bag. She dumped it upside down on a chair. Out fell her wallet, some pens, two small notebooks, a romance novel and several cosmetic bags she’d forgotten had been inside. They spilled open, a few of the items spilling to the floor. She ignored them and grabbed a pen and notebook before settling herself on his lap again.
“Number one, we need to find out what happened to your brothers, where they are.”
“Mrs. Westergard says they are banished, like me?”
“Yes.” She wrote down the question. “We should also ask her what happened to your mother.”
Rugoff nodded, and she had the idea he couldn’t put into words how important that was to him.
“Then, we need to ask her how we can get out of here. Together.”
A seductive smile spread across his face. She’d barely swallowed when he captured her face between his hands and kissed her. The manly taste of him mixed with the coffee and sugar that still lingered in his mouth was intoxicating.
“I think I like the food from your time, although your other things are somewhat mystifying.” He fingered the notepad then glanced at her computer.
“Computers are a wonderful thing and can come in handy. I’ll demonstrate how it works.”
“I would like that.” He patted her on the bottom as she stood and she responded with a shake of her hips.
They walked to the table and she tapped the power button on her computer. It didn’t respond and she groaned in disgust.
“It’s out of juice.”
“Juice.” He went to the table and returned with a pitcher of orange juice. “This comes every morning. Will it work?”
Venise tried to stifle a giggle. “No, it’s a different type of juice. I’m talking about batteries, which provide power for things. That’s the juice that you drink.”
In response, he lifted the pitcher to his lips and took a drink.
“Just like a man.” She ran her fingers over the keys. “We need to remember to ask the witch to bring us a computer battery.”
“You must remember that she doesn’t always answer my requests. Nor has she ever answered my questions about why I was here, or when I could leave.”
“You’ve asked it before?”
“Many times, especially after the annual trial. I defeat the evil force and keep the key safe. Yet I’m still here, day after day.”
Venise’s body tingled, but this time it was not from the nearness of Rugoff. “Maybe I can help you this year. Tell me about the trial.”
“It comes at different times, and I always know when it will arrive, because there is no food that morning.”
That was rude, Venise thought. Why would the witch send him into battle without a good breakfast? Did she want him to fail?
“After the battle is won, she provides me with a great feast.”
Which you have to eat by yourself.
Venise needed to have a talk with this witch. Making Rugoff and his brothers suffer for what their father did was not a proper punishment. When she came face to face with the woman, she intended to let her know that.
Rugoff had her hand in his, gently stroking the area where she’d sliced her hand when she first arrived. She expected to feel pain, but there was none. She pulled her hand away and unwrapped the bandage, letting the linen fall to the floor.
The wound was gone, and there was no scar, no evidence that she’d been injured at all.
“You’re magical.”
“No, I’m not.” She stared at it, wondering exactly what this meant. “Maybe it’s this place. Have you ever been hurt?”
“Never.” The word held wonder, as if he’d never once thought about his lack of injury.
“It has to have something to do with the witch, then.” She put her head on his shoulder. “Tell me about the place where you found me.”
“What about it?” She felt his shrug. “It’s just a clearing in the forest.”
“Is it where this ‘test’ takes place?”
“Yes.”
“Then that place means something. We need to go there. Now.”
“Not now.” He took her hands to keep her from rising. “Can’t you hear the winds?”
She listened carefully and for the first time heard the howl of wind outside. “How did you hear that?”
“When you are alone, you hear everything.” He tweaked her cheek, then reached behind her and picked up her book.
“What is this?”
“It’s a romance novel.” She winked at him. “They’re my guilty pleasure. They’re stories of love and well, sex. This is how the storytellers of my time
tell their tales.”
“Why do you feel guilty about it?”
“Do you want the scholarly answer, or do you want to know what I think?”
“Both.”
“Very well, get ready for a lecture.”
Chapter Eight
Venise had given her fair share of lectures in her life, but none of them had been delivered while she was naked. They always said to visualize your audience naked to help with nerves, but she’d never once thought it should be the other way around.
She tried to stand but he held her close to him. “Where are you going?”
“To get a tunic.”
“I think not.” He tickled her side. “I like you just as you are. Now, tell me the story.”
He thumped his finger against the book and she held it out. “This is called Ticket Me More, by one of my favorite authors, Tia Fanning.”
She showed him the cover, which featured a man and woman locked in an embrace. It also featured handcuffs, a pair of stilettos and some flowers. He pointed to the handcuffs.
“These are?”
“Used to bind a person’s arms together. The man in this is a police officer. He enforces the law.”
“She has broken the law?”
“Well, she’s, um, yeah, she’s attracted his attention by speeding.”
His face wrinkled in confusion. “Speeding?”
“In her car, which is a boat with a motor, only it’s used on the land, with wheels.” She chewed on her lips. “I don’t think you understand, do you?”
He shook his head and she sighed. “Never mind, that’s for another discussion. First, let’s talk about romance novels. They’re mostly written for women, and they contain a lot of coupling.”
“I like that idea.”
“Me too.” She flipped through the pages. “Some people say the novels are nothing more than porn for women, that they hold no literary value. When a storyteller came to your home and provided you with entertainment, the story always held some sort of moral at the end, right? It distinguished between good and bad.”
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