“What happened to those people?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Where are we?”
“Not far from the village.” I stepped on a branch, snapping it. “Fiddlesticks!”
“Shush!”
We hadn’t taken more than three steps when horses burst out of the trees, surrounding us. Three steeds pranced, snorting in agitation, as their riders drew near, their bodies glinting with the steel of chainmail. I recognized the blonde who stared at me; his helmet could hardly contain unruly hair, as the flaxen strands fell to his shoulders. His pale eyes shone with intensity so piercing, it raised a soundless alarm. It was a predatory look. I shivered, and instinct took over propelling me into the trees.
“Run, Emma!”
I hadn’t meant to leave my sister at the mercy of the invaders, but my feet could not be stopped. There was a part of me that knew this would only prolong the inevitable. I tore through the forest, gasping from the exertion and fighting off thick branches that slapped my face. I hadn’t gone far when something grabbed the back of my dress, rending the material and halting my escape. I was lifted from the ground; the strength of whoever held me was immense. My feet dangled over dark brown earth and leaves.
“No!”
“Where are you going, little one?” asked a heavily accented voice.
I kicked as hard as I could, my feet encountering a seemingly immovable object. He drew me against his chest, pressing me to his chainmail. We were inches apart, his breath fanning over my face. He smelled surprisingly clean; his skin was unblemished, with the beginnings of a thick, blonde beard that was slightly darker than his hair. I was absolutely terrified, not knowing what he intended and fearing the worst.
“Let me go, you Viking pig!”
This seemed to amuse him. “Fagr mær,” he murmured, appreciation and lust glimmering in his arctic blue eyes.
I’d never been this close to a man before. He was all heat and muscle, and I could feel the potency of energy that came from him. It was as intoxicating as he was strong. My heart hammered in my chest, the fear of death bringing wetness to my eyes, producing a large tear that rolled down my cheek. This seemed to mesmerize him, as he followed the fat droplet, until it fell from my chin.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” I whispered. My bottom lip trembled.
He smiled slightly.
Chapter Three
My sister and I found ourselves situated on top of horses with our Viking kidnappers, who led the animals through the forest while they spoke in Old Norse, a language I did not understand. I glanced at Emma, who frowned unhappily, while a strong arm held her securely around the waist. Her Viking was as dark as mine was light, with thick russet hair peeking out from beneath his steel helmet. The villagers had been rounded up and driven from their hiding place and taken to an undisclosed location.
The sun had disappeared behind the trees; the brisk air of autumn was laced with smoke from a distant fire. I clutched the cloak, wishing I had fur to keep me warm. Sensing my discomfort, the brigand pulled me closer, his thighs closing in around my hips. I wanted to object, but his heat felt wonderful. We emerged a short while later onto the road, which was littered with the bodies of farmers. They had fought valiantly, but lost. I gazed straight ahead to avoid the carnage. Plumes of smoke dotted the horizon, as structures burned out of control. The haze from the inferno mixed with the orange and purple of sunset, creating a surreal backdrop.
The silence was punctuated by screams, which echoed across the fields. I didn’t want to imagine what was happening to our people, because my sister and I would more than likely suffer the same fate. Quite a while later, when it was pitch black, we turned onto a familiar lane, which would take us to our house. I braced myself for what I would find, expecting the building to be a pile of smoking rubble. Once in the courtyard, I was shocked to find the structure still standing, yet infested with Viking pigs, as they milled about laughing and drinking. A woman was bent over a rock wall with her dress over her face, while a man drove his cock into her. Other men waited patiently for their turn. I glanced away, not wanting to witness the depravity.
The Norseman slid from the horse bringing me with him. “Don’t touch me!” I moved out of his arms, which had encircled me.
“You’re hardly in a position to give orders.”
“I won’t be manhandled. I was raised to be a lady, and you’ll treat me as such.” I struggled to keep my voice calm, although I trembled, not knowing what horrors I would find inside my home. It teemed with Vikings who came and went. Our possessions were being taken, my grandmother’s silver candlesticks, my father’s collection of gold plates, and casks of fine wine. I shook with anger at the indignity of the situation, vowing revenge.
“This is a fine house, Finn,” said the Viking’s compatriot.
“It is, isn’t it, Thorod? It’s perfect for our headquarters.”
My sister and I were led up the stone steps. Once we were inside, we saw that the great hall glowed with dozens of candles. The fireplaces on each end had been lit, warming the drafty space. My bed, which I shared with my sister, was occupied; sounds of sex came from behind the curtains. Yapping mangy dogs, which had wandered in to eat scraps of food, scampered around at will. We all lived and slept together in the great hall, including the servants, with my parent’s bedchamber upstairs.
“Your master has arrived!” Finn bellowed. “I’m starving.”
A young man dressed in a woolen shirt and trousers came running. “Yes, Lord Vapnfjord! The meal shall be served at once.” His accent was thick.
“Good, Skord. Bring mead as well. I’m thirsty.”
There was a commotion behind us at the door, and a fierce looking warrior entered, broad shouldered and with hair as pale as straw. He stood with his hands on his hips and a wolfish grin on his face. My kidnapper stalked towards him, hitting him on the back.
“My second in command, Bram Laxdale! What news have you?”
“The village has fallen, my Lord. The camp’s been established on the beach.”
“Excellent. We control the harbor.”
“Indeed.” The Viking stared at me. “You’re a lucky man. She’ll warm your bed nicely.” I flushed at his ardent appraisal, my cheeks stinging.
“Where’s your conquest?” asked Finn.
“I’ve yet to find one as lovely.” He smiled kindly. “Is that her sister?”
“I presume.” Finn glanced at me. “Is she your sister?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ch-Charlotte.”
“What’s her name?”
“Emma.” I glared at him. “Who are you?”
“Finn Vapnfjord.” He grinned, flashing white teeth. “I’m a mighty Viking Lord.”
I snorted. “You’re a horrible man. All of you are horrible…despicable.”
“You’ll be singing a different tune after I’ve bedded you,” he laughed. “You’ll be wishing the invasion never ended.”
“I find you repulsive.”
“If the rumors are true, he’s hung like a Norse,” quipped Bram.
“You’re killing innocent people! You murdering buffoons!”
“Once the villagers have bought their peace, we shall move on,” said Bram.
“You should be ashamed. God will punish you for your misdeeds.”
Finn’s brows lifted. “I suggest you sit yourself at the table and close your mouth, little one.” He glared at me, his amusement having vanished.
Feeling bolder than I should, I asked, “And if I don’t?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “An appropriate form of punishment will follow.”
I swallowed, fear settling in my belly, the angry retort dying on my lips.
Emma took my hand. “Come, Charlotte. You mustn’t forget your place. Meekness will always serve you well.” She pulled me towards a heavy wooden table, which had been scattered with plates filled with pork and ven
ison. It smelled delicious.
“That’s rubbish, Emma!” I hissed. “If we don’t fight, the salt-water bandits will take everything. Everything!”
“What do you intend to do?”
I glanced at the table, my stomach grumbling. I sat heavily on a wooden bench. “I don’t know.” I felt a moment of misery and hopelessness.
Vikings, who grabbed at the meat with their bare hands and belched loudly after drinking, joined us. Their lack of manners was astounding, but what concerned me more were the women they took into my bed. The sounds of sex played like a symphony while we ate. I would never be able to sleep in that bed again, knowing how it had been defiled. These women were willing, moaning, and screaming with pleasure. The noise was at times louder than the conversation. Finn sat at the foot of the table in my father’s favorite chair. I ignored him, trying to eat, although I had lost my appetite. My mind spun with ideas for escape.
After the meal, Finn escorted me to the stairs, and it became clear that I would join him in my parent’s bedchamber. My sister was led up as well by Thorod. Each step felt as if I were being taken to my execution, and when we had reached the landing, I felt ill.
“Are you unwell?” whispered Emma.
“I’m sick.”
“Perhaps the meat was off?”
“It’s not the food.” I glanced at Finn.
The Viking flung open the heavy wooden door. “Ah, my home away from home. This house is well appointed.”
Anger swept through me. “It’s not yours. People lived here raising children and going about their business, as was their right…until you came along.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not in the mood for another lecture. I’m a hero to my people. I shall bring back great riches, which will help those in need. Our land isn’t as giving as yours.”
“You can make all the excuses you want. We know what you’re about. You profit off the misery of others. You’ve destroyed families. You kill indiscriminately. You’re a heath—”
He grabbed me, dragging me to him. “You can be quiet now! When I want you to speak, I shall tell you so. Is that clear?”
“I’ll not take orders from you! You’re not my lord and master, you Danish pig!” I slapped him, the sound pinging off the walls.
Thorod took Emma, sitting on the bed with her in his lap. “This one is far more pleasant.”
“I agree with my sister,” she said in a soft voice. “You and your kind are despicable.”
He laughed, “And spoken so enticingly. You’re a sweet-faced angel.”
“I…I’m…” She seemed at a loss, her expression betraying confusion, yet she stared at Thorod, not being able or willing to look away.
“Don’t let him charm you, Emma. You must remember your resolve and your vows of purity.”
Finn removed his chainmail, dropping the item onto the floor with a heavy thump. Pulling off his leather boots, he spoke in Old Norse. Thorod laughed in reply. I stood in the furthest reaches of the room, considering the hidden opening behind the tapestry. It led to a small hallway. I had thought that Emma and I would use it in the night, after the heathens were asleep. It led to a door that opened onto a balcony, and freedom. As Finn undressed, Thorod drew my sister closer, kissing the sides of her face.
“You mustn’t,” she protested, pushing against him, but his lips continued to nibble on her neck. “Oh!”
Finn lifted a long woolen shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Then he untied the sash around his trousers, the garment falling to his feet. His anatomy was hidden under a sleeved jerkin, which he pulled over his head and discarded. I wasn’t sure what was more shocking, the sight of his phallus, pale and firm, thrusting out, or the fact that my sister was kissing a bloodthirsty Viking!
“Emma!”
“Um…”
“Stop that!”
She glanced at me, smiling sheepishly. “It’s…not so bad.”
I gasped. “You’re on mother’s bed! How could you?”
Finn gazed at me attentively. “This is your house?”
I bristled. “What does it matter to you?”
“You live here?”
“Where else would I live?”
“You’re Lady Charlotte Abbot?”
“I’m Lady Charlotte Colby. I’m…I’m married. My husband’s on a pilgrimage.”
He snorted with laughter. “Excellent. I was worried he might appear and spoil the fun.”
“Ouf!” He advanced on me, and I backed into the wall.
“We can’t have that, can we?” The tone in his voice had taken on a silky tenor. He touched my chin, lifting my face. “Now, I want a kiss, Lady Colby. I want your tongue in my mouth.”
I stared into azure eyes, wondering what would possess a man to leave his country, raid a foreign land, and bed someone else’s wife. “I will not. I’ll only kiss my husband.”
A strange gleam shone in his eye. “We shall see about that.”
Chapter Four
Thorod released the sash around the drapes, the heavy material enclosing the bed and giving its occupants privacy. My sister’s sighs and groans of pleasure reached my ears. I felt anger towards her and that abominable Viking for having seduced her. I vowed not to fall victim to the lust of the raiders. My virginity was strictly in my husband’s care, for him to take at his leisure, should he ever return from his pilgrimage.
“Come by the fire,” entreated Finn. The flames flickered off the contours of his body, casting deep shadows in the valleys of his muscles.
He looked far too appealing naked. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders, thick and mussed, yet the strands shone with health. The planes of his face revealed strong bones, a slightly crooked nose, which had more than likely been broken a time or two, and lips full and soft looking.
He held out his hand. “Have some wine.”
“You wish to get me drunk and take advantage of me.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” He grinned.
From behind the curtain came a manly groan. “That’s it, you little vixen. Suck my cock.”
This had to be a nightmare. How could my sister willingly give herself over to a Danish heathen? “Mother will hear of your indiscretion, Emma. You’ll pay dearly for what you’re doing.”
“Ommmm…” she mumbled, not being able to speak due to something large occupying her mouth.
Disgusted, I sat on the boar rug before the fire, annoyed with the situation and feeling helpless to stop it. A pewter cup came my way.
“Have a sip. It’s not a bad burgundy.”
“Get dressed, and I’ll consider it.”
“That’s counterproductive. I need to be naked for tonight’s festivities.”
“You’ll be celebrating with yourself then.” I took a sip of wine, the fluid gliding down my throat, leaving a path of heat.
He eyed me. “Have you any idea how lucky you are?”
I nearly choked on the wine, coughing. “I beg your pardon?”
“I could’ve fucked you seven ways to Sunday, but I’ve held back. Not many girls in the village have received that consideration.”
“Which proves your men are no better than swine.” I placed the cup on the floor, glaring at him. “Do you expect me to thank you for this? After you invaded my village, ransacked my house, and…and my parents are missing! They could be dead for all I know.” Tears sprang to my eyes.
From behind the bed curtains came, “Oh, no! Ouch!”
“Ooohhh…yes…you’re so tight, my little angel.”
“Oh, but you mustn’t.”
“It’s too late now,” he groaned.
I held my face in my hands, my spirits plummeting. Finn touched my shoulder, and I jerked away from him. He growled, grabbing me, pulling me to the naked expanse of his chest. “I’ll be gentle with you,” he whispered. “You’ll enjoy what I do.”
“No,” I mumbled miserably.
“Yes.”
I pushed against him, feeling sinew and hardness; the flesh was wa
rm and soft, with curly patches of fair hair. I drew away, as if I had been burned. He lifted my chin, staring into my eyes. From the bed came the sounds of sex, and the room filled with labored breathing, grunting, and female sighs of pleasure. It was like being trapped in an erotic nightmare, where the line between temptation and decency had begun to blur…alarmingly so.
“Minn engel,” he breathed, his iris’s darkening.
It wasn’t hard to figure out what he had said, and his words left me buzzing with pleasure. His thumb ran over my bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. I sucked in a shuddering gulp of air, realizing that he had moved closer by increments, his attention solely on my mouth.
“No,” I uttered softly, and then he kissed me. He tasted of wine, seductive and heady, while his tongue toyed at the portal of my lips, begging entrance, which I gave…reluctantly. “Um…no…”
I had thought that if it ever came to this that I would fight. My nails were long and strong, the perfect weapon to inflict damage, but instead of raking them across his face and chest, my fingers rested on his shoulders, feeling the muscles straining beneath the skin. I’d closed my eyes, giving even more of my mouth than I had intended, because he drove his tongue into me, and mine met his, engaging in a silken dance. He’d untied my dress, lifting it over my head, revealing a simple tunic. He grasped the material upward and away from me. I crossed my arms over my chest feeling exposed and self-conscious. His eyes roamed from the top of my head to my neck and beyond, missing nothing.
“Fagr,” he murmured.
The predatory light in his eye was laced with need. His cock looked even longer now, which was slightly alarming, the tip shiny with fluid. His lips closed over mine, as moans sounded on the bed behind us. My sister seemed to enjoy the Viking, because her sighs and moans had grown louder. The bed creaked, with the movement of their bodies, as the frame shook in a rhythmic fashion. Finn grasped my face, kissing me deeply. I threaded my fingers through his hair, feeling the silken strands. He smelled of musk with a hint of leather and horse.
I had never kissed a man before, and now I was naked, in the arms of a Norse invader and…enjoying every moment of the experience. The kiss was akin to drowning. I felt myself floating in pleasure; my body had become a vessel of sensation, with nerve endings that screamed for more. His lips traced a moist path to my throat, where he kissed and nibbled on me, while his hands caressed my shoulders, strong fingers massaging and exploring. An alarming wetness had begun between my thighs; my pussy clenched and released, over and over. I had only ever touched myself with a cloth in the bath, because it would be immoral to behave otherwise. Finn’s hands encircled my breasts, his thumbs rubbing the nipples. Then he moved lower, brushing my mound.
Cum For The Viking 2 (The Virgin Sex Slaves) Page 2
