He took off his leather boots and flung them to the side. Then he pulled his tunic over his head and exposed his muscled chest, reminding her how beautiful he was. Even the scars on his cheek and shoulder were sexy as hell. He was her gorgeous, battle-scarred conqueror, who’d take what he wanted. She groaned as her clit throbbed.
A lazy smile blossomed on his full lips. “I can smell your arousal, Esme. You want this as much as I do.”
She made unintelligible noises, trying to tell him she did not want it at all, and that he should untie her this minute, but who was she kidding? She craved him desperately and with a ferocity she never thought possible. The delicious tension at the juncture of her thighs was building like a pressure cooker, and she could feel the wetness pooling there in readiness for him. Crap! She was so hot she’d burst into flames any moment.
He loosened his trousers and stepped out of them, liberating his cock. It jutted forth like a battering ram, all hard, hot and thick.
“Do you want this, Esme?” he asked, massaging his magnificent organ. He thrust it toward her. “Your eyes tell me you do.”
She nodded vigorously and moaned, sounding more like a dying rhinoceros than a woman in heat.
He crawled onto the bed and straddled her legs, his erection projecting arrogantly at her. “You arouse me, Esme. Your face, your breasts, your hips. Your skin is like silk beneath my fingers.”
He placed his hands on her collarbone and drew his fingers lightly downward over her chest, skimming her skin and creating an unusual sensation that was both relaxing and stimulating at the same time. She shivered.
“Your breasts are lovely,” he murmured, cupping them and caressing them gently, reverently.
She let out a long hum of pleasure.
“Hmmm, you like this, don’t you?” he asked, moving to her nipples. He played with them, pinching and tweaking, making her squirm. She was no student of anatomy, but she swore there was a direct sensory connection between her nipples and her clit.
“Yes!” she screamed into the gag. “Yes, more.” Her body came alive under his hands, responsive to the slightest touch.
“Good.” He dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth, suckling her like a baby. Then he switched to the other one, drawing on the hard little peak, tonguing and lapping it until it almost hurt.
Finished with her breasts, he moved down to her belly button, licking and kissing it before moving still farther south to the tropics, where things were getting really hot and steamy.
Spreading her legs, he swiped a finger through her aching, swollen labia, then licked it clean. “You want me, just as I want you.”
By now she was moaning and writhing non-stop beneath his skillful fingers and mouth. She couldn’t help it. Her body reacted to him with a pre-programmed intensity she was unable to control. He’d awakened her dormant sexuality, showing her the strength and power that lay hidden inside her, waiting for release. If this was sex, bring it on!
Probing her channel with his finger, he pressed deep inside and stroked her inner walls. Her body shivered at his insistent touch, and her pussy clenched around his finger, foreshadowing what was to come.
He withdrew his finger and inserted it in his mouth, sucking on it like a Tootsie Roll Pop. “You see? Your body tells me you hunger for me.” He entered her again, this time finding a spot that made her gurgle with unbounded bliss. “Yes, you are very eager,” he said, not stopping. A desperate, primal sound escaped her throat as her vagina pulsed, close to orgasm.
He opened her legs. “I’m going to take you now, Esme, and scratch my itch, over and over, until it’s gone.”
She had no idea what he was blathering on about. Floating in her own little world of physical ecstasy, she was spellbound by the magical workings of his hands and fingers. He sure knew what he was doing. She was so ready to come, it wouldn’t take much more to set her off like a fire cracker.
He nudged her legs further apart with his knee and positioned himself over her. Her pussy ached, desperate to receive that incredible phallus. She hungered after him like a crazed drug addict. She would give anything to be his bed slave, his lover, his whore.
Yes! Yes! So take me already!
He pressed the head of his cock against her swollen flesh, then rubbed it over and around her entrance, driving her mad. Odd, strangled noises came out of her now. She’d never experienced such untamed, raw desire. She was practically weeping for want of him.
His darkened blue eyes bore into her, shafting her to her soul. She’d never felt so intensely possessed...and so willing to surrender. She would die if he didn’t enter her right this minute.
“Are you ready for me, Esme? Do you want to be my bed slave?”
She bobbed her head up and down and arched her back, thrusting her pussy at him. “Oh, Stein, I am so ready!” she cried into the damn rag.
“Then so be it.”
Not taking his gaze from hers, he entered her, the large head of his cock pushing insistently against her tight opening until it burst through, nearly tipping her over the edge.
“Ah, you’re so snug,” he mumbled, pushing in to the hilt.
Yes! Yes! It was an unbelievable sensation. He filled her to the max and, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces, they fit together perfectly.
Still fixing her with his gaze, he began to move inside her. Long, deliberate thrusts that had her arching off the bed.
“Esme...” he murmured so softly, she barely heard him.
Straining against her bonds, she yearned to touch him, to hold on to him as they lifted off on their journey to Paradise.
Then, his body suddenly jerked, as if he'd touched a live circuit, but it was not an orgasm.
“Stein, what’s wrong?” she cried into her gag, desperate to keep him imprisoned inside her.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
Shouts of “Fire!” and “Help!” penetrated the wooden walls.
“Stein! Come quickly!” Ulla burst through the curtain, stopping on a dime when she saw the two of them.
“The hall is on fire. The flames are burning right through the roof. They need your help.”
“Yes, I’ll come right away.” He looked down on Esme with a mix of emotions on his face. “I’ll be back, Esme.”
He scrambled to his feet and dressed with lightning speed.
“Stein, be careful,” she screamed into the rag.
He grabbed an axe from the corner and made for the door. “We’ll finish this later,” he said, his eyes blazing. “We’re not finished with your lesson.”
“Hurry, Stein,” his mother urged.
He pivoted on his heel and sprinted through the curtain.
Ulla hurried to the bed. Clucking like a mother hen, she took the gag out of Esme’s mouth. “He wasn’t too rough, was he? He's like a crazed stallion when he wants a woman.”
“No, he wasn’t too rough. Just a bit forceful,” Esme gasped. And, oh, how nice it was.
Ulla withdrew the shears from her apron pocket and snipped the cord binding Esme’s hands. “You and I may need to help, as well.”
“Thank you,” Esme said, rubbing her wrists. “How did the fire start? Is anyone hurt?”
“I don’t know. It’s too early to tell.” Ulla turned and walked toward the curtain divider. “Stay here. I’ll see if they need us.”
Esme sighed. Where else was there to go? Truth was, at this moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She’d happily stay in his bed until he came back to finish what he’d started. Yeah, baby!
Oh, it was all so confusing. He was sending mixed signals, but so was she. They were like two magnets, attracted or repelled by each other depending on how they interacted at any given moment.
What did Stein feel for her? This morning he’d treated her abominably, yet it was clear he desired her. Perhaps that’s all it was. It didn’t mean he cared for her. On the other hand, he’d whispered her name with such emotion, almost reverence. He hadn’t faked that. She was sure of it.
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And her feelings? She vacillated from total surrender in bed to total rebellion out of it. Sure, he made her toes curl like fiddlehead ferns, but could a few orgasms compensate for his overbearing attitude and boorish behavior?
The big question was: did she like him?
The surprising answer was ‘yes.’ She was sure a more gentle nature lay beneath the gruff exterior. She’d seen it at the inn and just now when he whispered her name. Badly hurt by his wife’s betrayal, he hid his feelings beneath a stern and dominating personality. It made perfect sense.
She liked him, too, because he made her feel feminine and confident, like she could handle anything life threw at her. That is, when he wasn’t having her shorn and collared.
Could he change? Could she? Or would he continue to order her about, and she’d continue to rebel. They’d be at loggerheads all day and all night, stopping only to bang each other’s brains out. Is that what lay ahead?
She mentally kicked herself. What was the point? Yet there had to be one. All this agony and ecstasy had to lead to something.
Well, she’d better find out soon, before she fell irretrievably head over heels for him.
CHAPTER 12
“Esme, you must help!” Ulla shouted, running into the room, arms flailing.
“What’s happening?” Esme’s heart rate ratcheted into high gear. “Is Stein all right?”
“The fire is out of control.” Ulla picked up Esme’s shift from the floor and threw it at her. “Dress quickly and come outside. We need everyone to help douse the flames.”
The scene outside the hall was chaotic. Men, women, slaves, and some older children had been pressed into service. Formed into two human chains, they passed bucket after bucket of water from the fjord back to the burning hall in a continuous loop. The younger children grabbed the buckets as soon as they were empty and delivered them to several adults standing knee-deep in the water, who filled them and handed them to the beginning of the line.
Esme just shook her head. The building was fully engulfed, and nothing would change the outcome. It all seemed so primitive and useless. If only she could dial 911 on her cell phone. A couple of firemen with a high-pressure hose could quench the fire in ten minutes. She looked around for Stein, but he was nowhere to be seen. Her stomach knotted with worry.
“Get in the line,” Ulla shouted.
Inserting herself between a teen-aged boy and a very old woman, she threw her back into it, passing the heavy wooden buckets down the line. Each one weighed a ton, and she marveled that the others handled them with apparent ease. She really needed to work out more.
Twenty minutes later, just as her arms were about to fall off, the line slowed. Craning her neck, she looked toward the hall and was relieved to see smoke, but no more flames. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much left of the once imposing building.
The bucket brigade broke up, and she joined the people gathered around the smoky ruins. Eavesdropping, she learned the fire had been caused by an overturned oil lamp. Although a few furnishings had been rescued, all that was left standing were several of the floor-to-ceiling support beams, a bit of wall, and the iron tripods that had perched over the central fire pit. A smoke-stained chest had been dragged off to the side. Otherwise, the rest of the building and its contents were a total loss.
She searched the crowd, looking for Stein, but didn’t see him anywhere. Glancing at the longhouse next to the ruins, she saw several women carrying white linens and small lidded pots to the entrance. Of course there had been injuries. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned.
“Come, Esme. Stein is in there.” Ulla’s turned-down mouth and dejected voice spoke volumes.
“Is he...all right?” Esme bit her lower lip.
“He is injured, but with the gods' help, he will recover.”
Esme felt queasy as they entered the longhouse. The mood was somber, and conversation between the healers was limited to whispers. Three men were laid out on wooden tables placed end-to-end down the length of the building. She didn’t recognize two of them, but she would know the third one anywhere.
Stein lay on the table farthest from the entrance, his head on a linen pillow and a white sheet over his body. He looked dead at first, and her stomach took a dive, but then his chest rose and fell with even breaths, and she calmed.
Ulla led the way, threading through the others.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A matronly woman of about fifty stepped in front of her, her fancy clothes and gold jewelry indicating she was important. The scowl on her face was hardly welcoming.
“We...I want to see my son.” Ulla waved her hand toward Stein.
The woman glared at Esme, but spoke to Ulla. “Get this slave out of here. She’s in the way.”
“Of course, Gudrun. We’ll return later. Come, Esme.” Ulla put her hand on Esme’s arm. “We should not have come in. The healers must be left alone to do their work.” They retreated to the entrance.
“What happened to him?" Esme asked. "Was he burned badly?”
Ulla stopped and clasped Esme’s upper arms. “He pulled Erik and Magnus from the fire. As he did, a burning beam fell upon his shoulders. Gudrun says his left shoulder and side are burned, but he will heal. We shall pray to the gods for mercy.”
“Oh, my God,” Esme murmured, craning her neck to see if Stein had moved an inch.
“Stein's injuries are not as bad as the others,” Ulla said, releasing her. She pointed to the man nearest the entrance. “Magnus’s left leg was mangled when another beam fell on it, but his burns are not life threatening.” She waved her hand at the second man. “Poor Erik got the worst of it.”
“Erik?”
“Magnus’s heir. He tried to save his father, but was badly burned by the rafter that crushed his father’s leg. It will take him a long time to heal.” She indicated the two women cleaning and applying salves to his wounds. “The older woman you had the pleasure of meeting is Gudrun, Magnus’s wife, and the younger is Erik’s wife, Sigrid.” Ulla took Esme by the hand. “Come along. You’re exhausted, and so am I. I’ll return and check on Stein in a little while.”
Esme offered no resistance. She was physically and mentally drained. “Yes, I guess there's nothing we can do right now.”
Entering the longhouse, Ulla took off the shawl she’d been wearing and laid it on the table. “We shall sit by the fire and pray to Eir for their recovery.”
“She's the goddess of healing, right?”
“Yes. You know our gods then. That is good.”
“Well, I know who they are, because I've read about them. But, we only have one god where I come from.”
“Just one? What a shame.” She motioned for Esme to join her. “Come and sit with me.”
They sat on stools by the fire, and Ulla stretched out her arms to pray.
“We implore you, Eir, great goddess of healing, to spare the lives of our chieftain and his two sons. Grant them your grace and heal their wounds. Restore them to their manly vigor and purpose, we beseech you.”
As Ulla repeated her prayer over and over, Esme lost herself in the rhythm of the words. Staring at the flickering gold flames, she silently begged the universe to heal Stein and the others. Medieval medicine being primitive at best, they would surely die if infection set in.
Ulla finally grew silent, prompting Esme to speak.
“Stein was very brave to risk his own life to save his father and brother.”
Ulla tilted her head. “It was his obligation to do so. I am pleased he had the strength to save them both.”
Esme stared into the fire. “What will happen if they all die?”
Ulla wagged her finger. “Do not give voice to such an evil thought.”
“But surely we should be prepared for such a possibility?”
Ulla sighed. “If Magnus dies, Erik will become our chieftain, but only for a brief time, I fear.”
“What do you mean? He’s the rightful heir, isn’t he?”
&nbs
p; “Yes, but physically he’s not a strong man. He would be challenged at once by Haakon, Magnus’s estranged brother, and that would set off a clan blood feud.”
Esme knew enough Viking history to know she didn’t want to be caught up in the Norse version of the Hatfields and the McCoys.
“What if Erik dies? Would Magnus name a new heir?”
“Yes. One of his bastards probably.” Ulla gave Esme a meaningful look. “But it won’t be Stein.”
“Because of the trouble between them?”
“Yes, but more importantly, Magnus does not believe Stein is his son.”
Esme’s mouth gaped. “Not his son? But...”
Ulla slashed her hand through the air, as if she could erase years of emotional pain.
“It’s a long story. Haakon raped me when I was already carrying Stein.” She stared into the flames as if watching the incident again. “Then, he lied about it and said I came to him willingly. After that Magnus refused to believe Stein was his child.”
Esme blew out a long breath. “Wow.” Life in medieval Norway was more dramatic than a daytime soap opera. And much more brutal.
Ulla continued. “If Haakon takes action to become chieftain, he’ll do it with his sword. Then may the gods help us.”
Icy fingers crawled up Esme’s spine. “We’d be in danger?”
Ulla smiled sadly. “You and I might survive, but Stein would be a dead man.”
“Wouldn’t Haakon want his support?”
“You don’t understand. Stein would be his natural rival. He’d have to eliminate him.”
“Then we’d better pray hard that everyone recovers.” A terrifying thought occurred to her. “What if Stein dies? What will happen to us?”
“You mean, what will happen to you?”
Esme nodded.
“You’ll become Magnus’s property. You’ll be his bed slave.”
No, no, no. That’s not what Esme wanted to hear. She’d not yet met Magnus, but his reputation scared the crap out of her.
“Maybe I’d run away.”
Vanquishing A Viking Page 12
