by Koko Brown
Cautiously, she made her way over to the nearest trestle table. Upon her approach, she smiled at several men who were sharing a wooden trencher filled with assorted sweet breads, fresh cheeses, and meat. She pulled out the bench tucked underneath her side of the table and sat down. When she reached for a wooden plate she paused, because the men’s eyes had rounded like saucers.
Even if she wasn’t too keen on playing a medieval version of Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, she remained to herself and split open a piece of warm sweet bread. Whistling, she lathered it with butter. She moved to take a bite, and the men seated across from her suddenly jumped up and scurried off in various directions, leaving her alone at the table.
Albeit disturbed by their behavior, she shrugged her shoulders. It was either eat or pass out from hunger, so she turned her attention back to her plate. She looked down, it was gone!
“What the—” Reese glanced under and around the table, but nothing. She spun about and her gaze met a pair of pale blue eyes. Blonde, of medium height and rather plump, the woman’s face bore a striking resemblance to Eirik with the addition of red stains marring her complexion. A prickle of apprehension stole down Reese’s spine.
“What are you doing?” the woman choked out.
“I was eating breakfast.” Reese held up the piece of bread as evidence.
The blotches on the woman’s cheeks turned an angry beet red. “Slaves are forbidden from eating at the main hall’s table, even if you are my son’s newest whore.”
Whore?
Reese ignored the warning bells in her head. She dropped the sweet bread onto the wooden trencher and then pushed back from the table. Once she was standing, she placed her hands on her hips and faced the other woman.
“Let’s get this straight, lady. I’m no man’s slave. And I’m definitely not your son’s whore!” Reese regretted the words the minute they spilled from her lips. With each syllable the woman’s already ruddy complexion turned a shade darker until it bordered on purple.
“Wh-wh-wh-why, you insolent wench!” she choked out before grabbing Reese’s arm. “As long as I am mistress of my son’s home, I will not stand for disobedience. And neither will he!” Despite her age, the woman was surprisingly strong as she easily pulled Reese behind her.
Once outside, the woman kept up her vigorous pace until she stopped in front of the barn Reese had slept in only a few days ago. She pushed the wooden doors inward, and the familiar sound of bleating sheep and clucking chickens welcomed them.
“EIRIK!”
A thatch of red hair materialized at the top of a stall in the rear. To Reese’s amusement, a hand reached out, grabbed a handful of said hair and hauled the person backward. Unfortunately, they weren’t quick enough, because the woman tightened her grip on Reese’s arm and proceeded to pull her along behind her to an open stall where Eirik, Thoren, and another man stood over a chestnut mare.
Without looking up, Eirik addressed them. “I don’t have any time for your nagging today, Mother. Vida is about to give birth.”
Ignoring his cantankerous tone, the woman made her case. “I caught this...wench eating at the common table—”
“Is that all, Mother?” Eirik interjected. “I told her she had free reign of my hall. However, she was not to go outside without my escort. Since she is with you, she has not disobeyed me.”
Reese smiled as Brita sputtered, “S-s-so she is correct when she says she is not a slave?”
Eirik’s gaze swung to her and Reese’s bravado slipped a notch. Surely after what they’d shared
her position had changed.
“Is this true, Eirik? Is she not your slave?” Reese looked at the other man who’d spoken, and her mouth fell open in surprise. Bjarni had transformed from an unkempt barbarian to a handsome rogue. He’d combed his wild ebony locks and trimmed the bird’s nest of what had been a shaggy beard into a neat goatee. The changes made him almost as handsome as Eirik. “If she is not your slave, then she is free to choose between us.”
Bjarni moved toward her, but Eirik stepped in front of him. “The woman is mistaken.”
“Where is her thrall collar?” Bjarni pointed at Reese’s bare neck. “She would not think thus if she really were in bondage.”
“Collar or no, she is a slave.” Eirik stepped closer, practically getting in the other man’s face.
“My slave.”
Hands raised and sporting a grin embellished with a split lip, Bjarni backed away. “She is beautiful and exotic, and my cock remains hard for her, I do not envy the discord she has caused in your household.”
“It is only temporary.” Since Bjarni was no longer a threat, Eirik turned back to the mare. “She will soon learn her place.”
Reese felt like Eirik just kicked her in the teeth. “You have changed everything, Viking.”
Eirik’s narrowed gaze met hers. “And what is that supposed to mean, woman?”
“You are a fool to think I will shrug and accept bondage and willingly accept you as well.”
He stalked over to the stall door and towered over her. Reese raised her chin defiantly. Curse him. Laying a hand on her wouldn’t hurt any more than the idea of being his slave.
“What did you call me?”
Reese should’ve backed down, but she was beyond logic and reason. Emotion and resentment overruled sensibility. “Did I stutter? I called you a fool.”
Eyes dark, he curled his hands around two of the wooden slats set in the door separating him from her. He looked as if he wanted to choke the shit out of her. Still, Reese didn’t back down.
“Take her back to the keep afore I lose my debt.” Eirik turned his back on her. “Better yet, lock her in my chamber. Her only duty is to be available whenever I want her.”
There was an ominous warning in his cold order. Funny how moments ago he’d been in a pleasant mood. She too for that matter. Both in and out of bed he was a great teacher, Reese mused. She was learning her place all too quickly.
“Let’s go, girl,” Brita said, moving to take her arm again.
Quick on her feet, Reese sidestepped her. “I’ll go freely,” she snapped.
With a loud snort, Brita turned on her heel. Reese followed but not before she stuck out her tongue at Eirik’s back.
“As a slave, what are my responsibilities?” Reese asked once they were back in the main hall.
“The majority work in the fields and down at the docks. Others are delegated to the barn and the animals. The remainder help Gurta, our head cook, in the kitchen.”
“Where’s the kitchen?”
Brita hesitated. “Unlike other households, Eirik keeps his kitchen area separate from his hall. It’s through that door, back there on the left,” she replied, nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m off to do slave’s work.”
“But my son said you are only to serve him!” Brita exclaimed, scurrying behind her.
“It will be a cold day in hell before I service him willingly. He took my freedom of choice away when he proclaimed I was a slave.”
When Reese entered the kitchen, there were half a dozen people preparing what looked to be the evening’s meal. Remaining in the shadows, it didn’t take her long to find out who was in charge. Steeling her jittery nerves, she walked over to a large woman fervently plucking the feathers from a duck while barking orders to the unfortunate people in her charge.
“Gurta?” The woman’s watery gray eyes locked with hers and Reese gulped. Had she jumped from the frying pan into the fire? “I-I’m here to work in the kitchen.”
The other woman eyed Reese with skepticism, and then shoved the half-plucked waterfowl
toward her.
Reese looked down at the bird and its beady eyes gazed back at her mournfully.
Okay badass – either put up or shut up. Tamping down a wave of nausea, and pretending the bird
was just a prop, she plucked the feathers from the dead carcass.
*
* * * *
When Vida’s foal entered the world, they moved quickly to remove the birth sack. Eirik with Bjarni’s help examined the afterbirth for holes, while Thoren had taken on the task of replacing the dirty straw with clean hay. Mother and child lay nearby bonding.
“Vida and her foal are safe. You should go eat, get some rest.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” Eirik shoved his hands into a pail of water, cleaning off the blood.
Chuckling, Bjarni sat down on the bench next to him. “Your body is here, but your thoughts have been elsewhere.”
His temper rapidly rising again Eirik scowled. He was in the midst of a dilemma that he’d never faced before, and he was loathe to discuss the woman with anyone, least of all Bjarni. He was one of the reasons he’d ordered Reese locked in his chamber like a prisoner.
What made the woman think her position had changed? Just because he lusted after her? In truth, he’d never desired a woman more. Not even Oona had affected him this strongly. She stirred emotions in him he did not understand. The look on her face when he’d reaffirmed her position in his household cut him to the quick. It should not bother him to see her suffer, but it did. The only reason he’d lingered this long out here in the barn was because he did not want to see the hate she must surely feel for him now.
Disgruntled, Eirik rose so quickly he knocked over the pail. Ignoring Bjarni’s outburst about his new boots, he stomped out of the stall and headed for his keep.
Bjarni caught up to him. “I guess you have a few rumpled feathers to soothe.”
“My conscience is clear.” Liar! “If she did not realize her place, then she knows it now.”
“Still, if I were you I would tread lightly. The look she gave you could freeze the Sognafjord. You do remember she bested young Thoren here.”
At the mention of his comeuppance by a woman, the youth’s face turned as red as the hair on his head.
“Thoren is a boy,” Eirik pointed out, but he didn’t totally disregard his friend’s warning. “I’m a grown man and her master. There will be no more confusion.”
“I’m curious what made her think she was anything other than a thrall?”
“She was born free.”
Bjarni bent over with laughter. “Losing the holmgang was a blessing from Odin after all.” He lifted his tunic and pulled out his dagger. “Until you break your tiny slave, you will need this more than I.”
No longer in the mood to entertain any more of Bjarni’s sarcasm, Eirik walked ahead of them. Upon entering his chieftain’s hall, he eyed a barrel of mead but turned toward his bedchamber. The showdown had only fired his blood. And with her preying on his thoughts all day, his body ached with need.
Determined to plunge his cock in her tight quim until she shivered beneath him, Eirik pushed open the chamber door.
The room was empty.
Blood pounding through his veins, Eirik returned to the main hall, and sought out his mother.
“Where is she?”
“Don’t you want to eat supper after such a long day?” his mother asked, attempting but failing at evading his question.
“At this moment, I am not hungry for food. “Where...is...she?”
Before she could answer, the kitchen staff ambled into the hall with the evening meal. As if an unseen tether had been cast out to lure him in, his eyes immediately fell on Reese carrying a large trencher. Her plain linen dress was soiled with grease and her tightly wound curls escaped from a hair tie. Despite her unkempt appearance, nothing could detract from her dark beauty or keep him from wanting her.
“Are you behind this?” he asked, his eyes never straying from Reese.
Huffing loudly, Brita planted her hands on her hips. “It was all her doing. When we returned to the hall, she asked me about the other slaves’ duties. I apprised her, and she headed off toward the kitchen. She’s been there ever since.”
He should’ve turned away, left her in the kitchen to rot. Now he stood bewitched by her sensuous movements as she slid the trencher onto the main table, and then stretched, arching her back, thrusting her breasts forward.
She had to be a witch. That would explain his current quandary...how she could make him want to throttle her and fuck her at the same time?
When she turned to head back to the kitchen, she faltered, finally noticing him. Their eyes met. The day had proved long, and yet Eirik felt his body come alive with tremors of excitement. He didn’t need to touch her for her to completely destroy his composure. Obviously, he didn’t have the same effect on her because she was the first to break eye contact, summarily dismissing him.
Eirik slammed his fist in his palm. That. Was. The. Last. Straw!
Abandoning his mother, he stalked after Reese. He followed her into the kitchen. She moved to heft another tankard, and he seized her wrist. He ignored her protest and proceeded to drag her through the main hall, back to his bedchamber, where he kicked the door shut behind him. Too impatient to make it to the bed, Eirik simply pushed her up against it.
She struggled, inflaming the wrong kind of passion and proving to be no match to his strength. Without very little effort, he braced her while his free hand fumbled with the lacings of his pants. His cock sprang free, the single eye already weeping in anticipation. Senses inflamed, he lowered his head to kiss her.
“If you do this, it’ll be by force,” she yelled, trying to turn her head away.
“Nei, it will not be by force.” He ran his hand down her lovely throat, admiring the dark skin. “I know you crave my lessons.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Viking,” she charged, but a moment later when he nipped the side of her neck, her moan contradicted her words.
“Another challenge?” He chuckled, pressing his body into hers. His hands gathered the folds of her skirt and lifted the hem. “And we both know how I fare at those.”
She struggled against him, and once again her efforts proved ineffectual. She simply ended up out of breath with her dress bunched around her waist, her sex exposed to his seeking fingers.
“I’ve been thinking about lying between your soft thighs all day,” he breathed against her throat, his hand sliding between her legs. “And I’ve imagined how your sweet quim will feel when it grips my cock,” he whispered, his hand rubbing her throbbing mound, eliciting a strangled moan from her tightly pressed lips.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of my, lovely warrior. Today you won the battle, but as we both know, I will win the war.”
Clasping her chin, he brought her head around and slashed his mouth across hers. Once again, she fought him. His fortitude proved superior as he held her head in place, keeping her mouth melded to his.
Reese still wanted him.
She couldn’t tamp down the chaotic sensations bubbling inside her no more than she could stop the involuntary beating of her heart. And with only a look. Their eyes met in the hall downstairs and the powerful attraction that ping-ponged between them from day one smashed into her like a freight train. He made her hot and cold at once. Her knees became weak, as if the bones had been replaced with champagne. Irritated by her response, she’d escaped to the kitchen only to be found by him and hauled to his bedchamber.
Fighting her pride and libido was difficult, but a lust-filled Viking was proving to be impossible. It didn’t help that her mind kept playing evil tricks by reminding her of the last time they’d been alone. It would’ve been so much easier to resist him if she didn’t know how good a lover he was. That knowledge, along with the full-on press of his powerful body and sensuous lips, robbed her of her resolve.
“Kiss me,” he demanded. “Let me have that much.”
Reese knew she was falling for one of the oldest lines in the book. It was up there with ‘let me just slip in the tip’. And yet, she acquiesced, parting her lips on a pathetic sigh.
That was all Eirik needed to advance his forces and shatter the vestiges of her resistance. She distantly registered his triumphant growl as he pressed into her,
spreading her legs wider, opening her in a position that only proved to burn even more brain cells.
Hot like warm steel, Reese felt him through the soft material of his pants. Forward and backward he moved her against him. “By all the gods in Asgard,” he said hoarsely, “I want to be inside you, stretching you with my cock.”
Reese’s mind reeled. She didn’t need any gods to attest to her desire for him.
He kissed her hard, and his hands gripped her hips tighter as he rocked her over him, rubbing the bend of his cock against her clit. Faster. Harder. Moaning, Reese clutched at his shoulders.
“Are you willing?”
The tip of his cock, slid between her pussy lips and the breath rushed past her lips. “Beyond willing,” she panted. “You got me so wet I can feel it on my thighs.”
Eirik lifted her slightly, while angling his hips so the head touched her most intimate spot. One upward thrust and he would be inside. Anticipation at its highest peak, Reese tensed.
“I knew you would see it my way.”
His way?
Reese threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged his head back so they were eye to eye. Blue gaze now heavy lidded with lust, color heightening his cheekbones and his chest expanding and contracting with labored breaths. He was downright gorgeous. Too bad his arrogance had dumped cold water on her ardor.
“And what way is that?”
“You are mine and you will be available whenever and however I want you.”
Anchoring her feet on his thighs and her hands on his shoulders, Reese shoved him away from her. Caught off balance, Eirik stumbled back and she dropped to the floor.
“So basically I’m your slave and your whore, all rolled up into a nice convenient package.”
Clearly no longer in the mood, he tugged the lacings of his pants closed. “You can label yourself however you wish, Reese.” He raked his hands through his pale mane, a look of frustration twisting his handsome features before he blanketed it. “But know this, you belong to me.”
