by Desconhecido
“Oden’s beard! And folks say we’re barbarians!” Leif exclaimed.
A whispered voice filled the silence. “Hope—her name is Hope,” Chloe answered cautiously.
“Hope! A good name!” Jargeir answered. “Hello, Hope.” He smiled down at the tiny girl, who stirred and cooed in her sleep. The men smiled at each other. A good sign!
* * * *
The rain intensified by midafternoon. Men returned wet and cold to warm up after being relieved of watch duties. Fridgeir and Arinbjorn left just before noon and hadn’t yet returned. Other than serving the men, there was little to do but try to stay warm. A glance outside the shelter showed the poles where the merchants had been to be empty. She wondered which tent held them. The seven raiders huddled under a simple tarp set at an angle.
The wash buckets ran low so she grabbed them both and headed for the stream to refill them. She filled the second bucket and turned around. Floki stood so close she almost ran into him. She jerked back and would have fallen into the stream if he hadn’t caught her arm.
“Easy, slave. Let me take that.” The stare from his pale, watery eyes bore into hers as he took the buckets from her. She staggered slightly when he let go but found her footing. He licked his lips and unashamedly undressed her with his eyes before turning away. She stood there, sucking in air and fighting the panic threatening to send her fleeing into the woods.
“Are you all right?” a softer voice asked. A man she’d seen around but didn’t know walked up, staring at Floki’s retreating back. “Did he bother you?”
She gathered her wits. “No, just ah…surprised me.” She drew her cloak tighter around her against the chill both inside and out.
He smiled. “I’m Ingvar. And you needn’t worry about him.” He jerked his head toward camp. “He wouldn’t dare touch you again. Fridgeir would gut him next time and he knows it.” He stepped aside and gestured back toward camp. “But he seems to like scaring slaves. Try not to let it show and remember, unless you bite him again, he can’t touch you, can’t hurt you.”
She nodded and smiled slightly. “Thank you, Ingvar.”
* * * *
Fridgeir returned from his watch in the early evening. The rain had begun to lift but not before it soaked clear through his wool cloak. It was one of the few times he wished his undergarments were made of wool as well as his tunic and pants. Wet wool stayed warm, wet linen didn’t. He stood close to the fire, warming and drying one side then the other. Steam began to rise from his clothes.
His gaze followed Eireann as she moved about. That is one fine woman. The sway of her hips mesmerized him. His cock shook off the chill and rose hard, remembering the feel of her soft hands stroking him so firmly. He stifled a groan and sent a silent prayer asking for the rain to stop. He wanted to take her up on her offer from last night. His cock twitched harder just thinking about it.
* * * *
Eireann thought it made an otherworldly air about him. He undid his twin braids and shook his hair out to dry. She looked through the small trunk of supplies they kept near the fire. It held salt, some healing herbs and bandages. And the soap for washing and combs made of bone. She’d never realized how fussy men could be about their own hair.
Fridgeir watched her get a comb out. He sat near the fire and waved her over. “I could use that!” He smiled and held his hand out to take it.
She swallowed and tried to meet his eye but she felt nervous. “I could do it for you, if you like.” Her voice held despite her nervousness. Among women, brushing each other’s hair was common, especially among friends and family. But a man brushing a woman’s hair implied a deeper intimacy, affection even. She didn’t know how these Northmen felt about it, but if she was to be his bedmate, she might as well act the part.
He glanced at his grinning shield partner, winked, then smiled and turned his back. As she gently combed the tangles out, she noticed he closed his eyes.
It surprised her with its silky texture and slight wave as it fell down his back. The fire sent glints of gold and red running through it. He sighed and she watched his shoulders relax. She tried not to smile. Or look at the men grinning and whispering to each other. Eirik stepped into the fire area.
Astonishment froze his face for a moment, then he smiled widely. “You two need a tent to yourselves tonight?” he teased with a sly grin and cocked eyebrow.
Fridgeir chuckled but said nothing. That answered her unasked question. Brushing a man’s hair means more than just removing tangles! She finished and put the comb away without looking at any of them.
Giermund looked much put out. “I was hoping she’d be willing to do mine too!” He grinned and winked at her.
Fridgeir chuckled again. “I hate to have her pull all your hair out, she’s really quite rough,” he teased back.
When she heard his words she looked at him in surprise—but then saw his teasing grin. She snorted softly.
It was dinnertime and she set about serving the stew she’d been tending all day. The rain let up and moods began to improve markedly. Men joked and laughed. A few took the liberty of touching her hand as she handed them their stew. After a few times she got used to it and knew it meant nothing but thank you. She hoped so. She was quite aware Fridgeir’s watchful gaze followed her and that might have also cooled any man’s ardor. Besides, they had the other two women to harass. She noticed the youngest of them avoided Floki whenever she could. It seemed to please him and he went out of his way to get in hers. Until another man made it clear he wanted her for the night. The other woman seemed to welcome some of the attention the men gave her. Even seemed to have picked out a couple to hover near.
Eireann leaned close to Fridgeir. “If a man takes a slave to bed more than once, does he own her? Or are they just taking turns?” She gave a slight nod toward the forest slave and Floki.
Fridgeir snickered. “Two nights in a row? That could be called a claim. And I don’t think Floki really wants her enough to pay for her.”
Eirik spoke a bit more seriously. “I insist that a man keep any slave he brings home—at least through the winter. I doubt he’s looking for a bedmate.”
She furrowed her brow in thought. “So, in the spring, he can get rid of her if he doesn’t want her anymore?”
Eirik nodded with a sly grin.
She tried not to sound too worried as she asked, “How? Sell her or slit her throat?”
“Sell or trade to another man. We don’t slit women’s throats just because they aren’t wanted as a bedmate any more. Occasionally, she becomes a slave of the hall, available to any man who lives there, much as those two are,” Eirik answered with some amusement
“Don’t worry, I’m sure if Fridgeir tires of you someone else will want you. Maybe even Floki,” Cedric teased with a mischievous grin.
She snorted. “I feel so much better!” But it answered a question that had nagged at the back of her mind. What’ll happen if he doesn’t want me? She glanced at Fridgeir from under lowered lashes. Maybe that other forest woman had the right idea. Keeping Fridgeir happy might be in her best interest in the long run. At least he seemed to care and treated her mostly like a person. Better than many midlanders treated their wives.
Chapter 11
Day 4, night
As dinner finished, most just curled up where they’d been sitting.
Fridgeir leaned close and whispered into her ear, “I’d like to see that secluded bit of beach you mentioned last night.” He cocked a brow and smiled softly. She nodded and swallowed nervously. He stood and offered her his hand. He recognized her sudden desire to work with him as gratitude for saving her sister, and herself. He hoped to make use of it to earn a bit more trust from her, try to give her some pleasure before the wall went up again. Maybe if it went well enough, the wall might not return at all.
He headed toward the cliff, cock already stiff with anticipation. Gods he wanted her so bad! Wanted to watch her eyes drift closed in passion. Wanted to watch as her body flushed w
ith excitement. What kind of sounds would she make when she came? Oden’s beard I have it bad for her.
* * * *
Her stomach knotted with fear and excitement as she followed him across the camp. He stopped briefly at one of the tents to tell Arinbjorn where they were headed and to grab a bottle of the harsh liquor they’d taken off the raiders. Mixed feelings roiled inside her. She needed to live up to her bargain and he’d shown an ability to arouse her. But she hated that almost as much as knowing she had no choice! Worse, waiting in the shadows of her mind, cold fingers of fear threatened to squeeze her breath away. She silently cursed the raiders who’d done that to her.
They reached the base of the cliff and found a secluded sandy spot. He spread his cloak and sat, leaving plenty of room for her to sit beside him. He offered her a drink hoping it would calm her obvious nervousness.
She tried not to choke on the strong stuff as she swallowed a good bit. The moon had risen a couple marks before sunset. It shone overhead, with a silvered light sparkling over the dancing waves. The rhythmic lapping of the waves on the shore and the creak of the Dragon’s Fire as it rode them began to relax her.
He laid back and patted the cloak next to him. “The moon’s too high to really see the stars well. But it’s still pretty.”
She laid down on her side and let her hand rest on his chest. She felt the gentle rise and fall of his breath. It soothed some of her fear. He took her hand with his and brought it to his lips. He kissed the palm and sent shivers up her back and desire warming her inside. He continued up her arm. His beard tickled slightly. She let the sensual feel of it calm her. This isn’t one of those savages—this is a man who knows how to please a woman.
He rolled onto his side, facing her. He lightly stroked her face with his fingertips. Her skin tingled.
She took the time to examine him in the moonlight. Not an ugly man, slightly rugged but well-balanced with strong cheekbones. Golden eyebrows formed a strong arch over his clear, blue eyes. They drew her attention and she found herself staring into them with longing. Lips slightly parted in the hair of his beard. Full lips with strong white teeth behind them.
She leaned in for a soft kiss. He tasted of strong liquor and stew, but so did she. She reached behind his head and tangled her fingers in his hair to pull him tight to her.
* * * *
Her bold kiss fired his blood with passion. He stroked her face and neck and leaned into her. She stiffened for a moment then shoved him flat on the sand. Her eyes dilated slightly and she trailed her fingers through his hair spread out around him.
She gave him a wicked smile then hiked her skirt up and straddled him. Sweet mother of all! I love a bold woman.
His cock jumped to attention in anticipation. Her bruised lips had healed a good bit over the last couple days. She leaned down and kissed him. Her lips parted slightly and her tongue flickered against his. He opened and his tongue met hers in a passionate dance. His breath quickened with need as desire grew hot in him.
She kissed across his face to his ear and nipped the rim. Tingles spread down toward his cock.
He nuzzled into her neck, kissing it passionately. He heard her breath catch.
She sat up and looked at him with passion-filled eyes. His hand stroked light as a feather across her cheek and behind her head. No pressure but he parted his lips invitingly. She leaned in to kiss him again. Sparks flew from their meeting.
His breath heaved and his hands found their way to her thighs, gently caressing down the outside of them and up under her skirt. He felt her freeze, even her breathing stopped.
“Don’t touch me!” half-pleading half-ordering him. He settled her skirt back down.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He touched her face lightly, then with a sly grin, put both arms over his head. As nonthreatening as he could be. He’d have to remember not to push too much. She seemed fine as long as he let her lead. Worked fine for him.
She smiled wickedly and leaned down to kiss him and then nipped his lip slightly. His breath caught.
She rose up and started pulling his tunic up. He sat up and let her take it off. He stayed sitting with her facing him on his lap. He stifled the urge to bury his face against her chest, hold her tightly while he kissed her breasts. He had to let her lead, at least until she felt more at ease with him.
Her hands combed through his hair and stroked firmly down his back. They came back up his chest in a sweeping stroke. Flowing across his nipples. He sighed at the sudden tingle. Her lips twitched slightly and she circled one with a finger. He could barely breathe from the hot desire that filled him.
She arched a brow. “You want something?” she teased, then ran her finger firmly across it, pausing to caress the nipple in a circle before moving on. His lips parted and his eyes closed with enjoyment.
She circled the other then firmly worked it until it rose hard. He moaned softly and leaned back, letting his arms brace him up. His head dropped slightly back, he let his eyes close to enjoy the pleasure she gave him.
She caressed the other nipple hard, then both at the same time. He made no effort to stifle his moans and sighs of pleasure. They seemed to encourage her.
She slipped a hand behind his head, played through his hair before grasping it firmly and pulling his head up, almost roughly. Her lips hungrily met his. His breath caught and his cock jumped. Oh gods this woman was meant for me.
She held his head and kissed her way to his ear. She lipped the rim and sucked the lobe. He softly moaned his approval.
Her lips trailed down his throat and brushing his beard aside, she sucked lightly on the hollow at the base of his neck. He moaned and let his head fall back again. Gods that felt good!
Her hands stroked lower and she bent to take a nipple, suckling it lightly. Chasing it around with her tongue. He moaned and arched into her for more. She sucked harder then lightly pulled it out. He gasped and she released it. His cock ached with need but he’d let her set the pace, this time.
He lay back on the sand and stroked down her face with a single finger. When she didn’t pull away he let it keep going, down her neck and then soft as down, across her breast. He saw her breath catch and her eyes close in pleasure. Oh, so carefully, he circled his finger back around, making a spiral into the center and gently teased her nipple to hardness.
She gasped and moaned, arching into his touch. She unlaced her bodice, letting it slide off her shoulders. His hand trailed lightly across her skin. So soft, so smooth. He longed to trail hot kisses across it, suck her breast hard.
Her breath came quicker as he caressed her soft skin. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately again, tongues dancing.
His hand slid around behind her, pulling her close—the feel of her bare breasts against his chest fired him even more. Her taut nipples rubbed across his, sending shivers of need straight to his cock.
* * * *
The feeling of being trapped filled her again. Cold fear squeezed her heart and she jerked back.
“Eireann—” Fridgeir started to speak but she put a finger to his lips. She knew he meant no harm and she needed to make good her end of the bargain. She let her hand caress its way down his chest and join her other one teasing his nipples. Her hands continued lower and she leaned down to suck a nipple in. Watching him give in to the pleasure of it gave her a feeling of control that soothed her fear.
He gasped and moaned when her hand found and firmly caressed his hardness through his pants. His passion at her control thawed the cold knot more.
She shifted down, trapping his thighs but holding her weight on her knees. She made a show of undoing his pants, pulling them open. Her soft hand closed around him. He gasped and arched into her hand. She stroked him, teased the head. She felt his cock harden even more, pre-cum welled from the tip. She stopped, wanting to do more for him tonight.
She slipped off him and pulled his pants down farther, exposing him fully. Her breath caught at the size and hardness of his pole. Part of
her yearned to feel him inside her. That new part, the cold fear, hesitated.
She trailed her finger down the ridge and it rose to her touch. He moaned in pleasure. His eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted with passion.
She explored his scrotum, finding the line between his sensitive balls that sent him gasping and writhing slightly.
She lay on her side and kissed then sucked his nipple as she stroked him. He moaned and sighed with pleasure. She felt a change in his pole and froze her hand. Not yet!
She let go of his nipple and kissed her way to his shoulder. She parted her lips and bit. He gasped and arched up. His cock jumped in her hand. She sucked the spot and he moaned softly and writhed, turning his head away from her, baring more of his neck. She smiled and took the invitation. She bit his neck harder eliciting a stronger cry of passion and making his cock jump.
She stroked the milky fluid weeping from his slit around the head and he cried out again, straining for release.
She stroked down him and felt him tense, ready. A hard squeeze in just the right place and he yelped but didn’t come. The muscles of his chest rippled in the moonlight as his chest heaved.
She pressed against his hard body, enjoying her control over it. Her fingers danced across his chest then teased the head of his pole. It rose to her touch again and he moaned. She leaned over and bit the base of his neck. He cried out and thrashed slightly.
Her hand closed on the head and caressed it. He cried out again, body tense. She let go and swiftly turned to take him in her mouth. She only managed the head before he cried out and pulsed his seed into her mouth. She sucked hard and he moaned and writhed with pleasure. She let up then sucked again, her tongue caressing that special spot where the head met the shaft. His cries and moans of pleasure echoed the convulsing of his body.
She felt a strong need of her own answering his passionate climax. She let him go and once more straddled him. She leaned forward urgently.
