“This is nice.”
I pressed the mounds together, and, in a flash of inspiration, I lowered my chin to flick a tongue against each nipple, swirling seductively over the firm buds, which hardened them even further. Finn barely breathed; his look so heated, I worried he would incinerate and turn to dust before my very eyes.
My hand drifted between the valley of my breasts, massaging downwards towards my stomach. I poured more, leaving it to pool in the indentation of my belly button. I met his gaze, and, in that instant, I felt the force of his attraction, which sent my senses reeling with pleasure. He had been bored with the whores from the night before. This man had had his fill of easy, shameless sluts. He craved something else. He was afraid to take me because of a silly superstition, although he wanted me badly. Usually, when the object of our desire is denied for one reason or another, the need becomes that much deeper. The burning is nearly painful, and the lust drives us to the brink of insanity. I held all the cards in this particular instance, and I was going to enjoy playing the game…watching him squirm with a craving he would not let himself indulge. You poor Viking.
I kneaded and rubbed the firmness of my tummy in leisurely circles. I poured more oil, letting it dribble between my thighs. A thatch of dark hair hid my Venus mound, and I spread my legs slightly, revealing the pinkish slit of my pussy. Knowing that he watched emboldened me, as a saucy grin lifted the corners of my mouth.
“Do you like this?” He wasn’t going to answer the question, which was fine. “I think you do.” My finger skimmed over the sensitive lump, inflaming me to an incredible degree. “Is this what you wanted to see?” I moaned; the sound was guttural and base, a foreshadowing of the naughtiness that was yet to come. “I’m…this feels…wonderful.” My chest rose and fell with my breathing, while my breasts jiggled distractingly. The nipples stood at attention, the air feeling abrasive. It would have been marvelous to have his mouth on them, sucking. “Won’t you touch me? I know you want to,” I entreated softly.
He raked fingers through his hair. “Stop talking, you little wench.”
A smile stole across my face. Someone’s suffering. Why don’t you take me? You’re afraid of a woman? You coward. Viking coward. I spread my legs further, while rubbing my pussy, feeling the heat emanating from the moist flesh. I sighed with bliss, buzzing with pleasure that threatened to devour me whole. My body felt like jelly, soft and pliable, my pussy aching for more, demanding I finger myself deeper. I dipped into my opening, toying inside the snug confines, while mewling and moaning, the sounds tearing from my throat.
“Ooohhh…oh…”
I suddenly cared less about teasing him and more about my own satisfaction. Soaked from my juices, I continued to manipulate myself, imagining it was his cock inside of me. My eyes drifted shut, while I collapsed against the pillow, moaning. I lifted my buttocks, fucking my hand and pressing the ball of my clit against my wrist.
“You can have me, if you want.” I lifted my head to look at him. “Show me your cock. Let me see it.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple protruding noticeably. “Shut up, you witch…whore.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m a witch. You poor Viking warlord. You’re afraid of a woman…a witch.”
“Hold your tongue.”
“I’d rather have your tongue in me. Don’t you want to taste me?” His face reddened, while a vibrant, heated energy oozed from him. “It feels so good, Finn. Ooohh…” I was lost again, drowning in sensation, as my body hummed with the tune of release. “Oh, God…I can’t hold it for much longer. Please…please take me.” But it was already too late, because the fire that burned inside of me suddenly burst, and, as I met his gaze, I succumbed to climax. “Oh! Yes! Ooohhh…” I screamed his name, the sound echoing in the chamber. My fingers were deep inside still, and I didn’t want to remove them just yet. I collapsed against the pillow, my heart hammering in my chest, the sound pounding in my ears. I remained this way for long minutes, listening to the celebration below and not being able to form a coherent thought.
Finn got to his feet, and I stared at him, finding a man enraged. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Curiosity had me on my knees, searching the floorboards for a gap. I wanted to know what he was going to do. I moved a carpet, frantic to find a small hole from which to observe what was happening beneath me. A portion of missing plank enabled me to press an eye to the floor. The room below was filled with smoke, and the scene was of Viking debauchery, men fornicating with the village sluts, taking them against the furniture, while others watched and drank. Finn strode across the room, grabbing a woman, who shrieked with surprise. He tore the tunic from her body, exposing her sagging breasts. Then he pushed her against a table and lowered his pants, thrusting his cock into her. He rutted aggressively, groaning and stiffening, emptying his seed, almost as quickly as he started. Then he pushed her from him and stomped out of the building, leaving his men to their lusty shenanigans.
Well, I hope you feel better, Finn.
I used the cold water in the bath to wipe myself clean, and then I sat by the fire and drank and ate, feeling utterly relaxed. “How much longer can you hold out?” I murmured to myself. I shouldn’t encourage the Viking, but, on the other hand, this game pleased me. It was an enjoyable distraction from the horrors I had suffered during the invasion. There was little else to entertain me.
After the fire had died down, and the heat had soothed my bones, I crawled into bed, naked. I snuggled beneath the covers, listening to the shouts and laughter of the men below, and closed my eyes. I slept with a slight smile on my face. At some point during the night, I felt the bed shift. A heavy mass lay next to me, and I instinctively rolled into the lump. I succumbed to sleep again, nestled against Finn.
The house in the morning was quiet, save for the incessant chirping of birds outside the window. I had turned from the source of warmth, my bottom pressing against something long and hard. Knowing what the object was, I wiggled against it. The Viking had come to bed naked!
He stirred, his hand resting on the bend of my waist. Groaning, he thrust his hips gently, pushing his cock against my buttocks. I stared at the curtains that surrounded the bed, feeling the sensual bite of arousal. Knowing that Finn wanted me, but he was denying himself, gave me the wicked impetus to encourage him, by squirming against his penis, wetting myself with pre-cum.
An uncontrollable tingling registered in my core, as the sensations began to build, my silken slit dampening. The walls of my sex compressed, wanting something long and firm to slide inside and stroke me senseless.
I grasped his cock, bringing it to the portal of my welcoming orifice. “Please,” I whispered. “Please take me, Finn.” I wriggled, lodging the tip.
He jerked, as if he had just woken, his eyes flying wide. Seeing where my hand was and what he had been about to do, he pushed me away. “Swina bqllr!” he hissed, hauling himself out of bed.
I remained where I was, staring at the curtain. You poor Viking. Why torture yourself like this? You keep me so close, yet you deny your man’s needs. I think I’ll continue to tease you, because you make it so easy. I hope you suffer…invading pig!
Chapter Five
After washing and dressing, Finn left me; his expression was stony, and he seemed angry, his booted feet clomping on the floorboards. I sat in bed, amused by how the day had begun, but there were tasks I needed to complete. I spent the morning digging through several wooden trunks, finding lovely dresses that had once belonged to Lady Abbot. I tried each of them on, marveling at the fabric, the color, and the embroidered embellishments. I even wore a wimple, which I adored. I was hardly the image of virtuous purity, but it was wonderful to pretend I was a pious, highborn lady. I danced around the room, the dress flying out around me, as I giggled happily.
Lunch was served at midday, and Skord placed the food on a low table. “Here you are, miss.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll bring water.”
He eyed the bathtub. “I’ll empty that as well.”
“If you want.”
“It’s easy. I’ll toss it out the window.”
“You’re not afraid of me?”
He seemed surprised by the question. “Why would I be afraid?”
“I’m a witch, or so they say.”
“If you are, you’re the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.” He grinned.
“Thank you, Skord.”
“You’re welcome, Lora Green.”
Once the dishes had been taken away, I played with my hair, using a brush I had found. I arranged it on top of my head, holding it in place with pins. Not having anything to do was a luxury. If I were home, in my little hut on the cliff, I would be gardening, cooking, and dragging clothing to the river. The Abbots were lucky to have servants to see to their needs. Someone had left embroidery, and I picked it up and worked it, although my skill in this area was lacking.
When the room grew darker and the day progressed into evening, I lit the fire and a few candles, creating a cozy, warm space. The door swung open in that instant, startling me. Finn looked haggard; his clothing was filthy, and there was blood on his neck.
I got to my feet. “What happened?”
“There was an uprising from the shire. We were swamped.”
Finn lived; therefore, the Vikings had been victorious. “You’re injured.”
“It’s nothing. Just a scratch.” He lifted the chainmail over his head, dropping it on the floor with a heavy clunk. Skord appeared behind him. “Bring hot water, boy. I need to bathe.”
“Yes, Lord Vapnfjord.”
Without preamble, he divested himself of clothing, revealing an appealing form. The Viking’s body had been constructed for war, and the bulge of his sword arm gave testament to the countless hours he had spent with his weapon. A parade of servants brought up buckets of steaming water. When the metal tub was halfway filled, he stepped into it, sitting, grasping a lump of soap and scrubbing vigorously.
“Shall I wash your hair?” He grunted in reply. “I should look at your wound.”
“Do as you wish, witch.”
I sighed. “I’m not a witch. It’s foolish that you think so.”
“Cats drop out of the sky wherever you go.”
“That cat fell from a rafter,” I laughed. “It was a bizarre accident.”
“Or an omen of sinister things.”
I snatched the bucket from the floor and poured water over his head. “Give me the soap.” He handed it to me, and I lathered his scalp, scrubbing and enjoying the feel of him. Then I rinsed him thoroughly, eyeing the slash in his neck. “That needs stiches.”
“Um.”
My hands were on my hips, while I stared at the man before me. “It won’t heal properly, if it’s not sewn. Infection will set in, and then you’ll die.”
He ignored me, soaping his face. He made quick work of the rest of his body, and, when he had finished, he got out, drying himself with a cloth. He dressed hastily in a clean tunic and brown braes with a leather belt. Finn sat by the fire; his look was earnest. “Call for Skord. He has a thread and needle.”
“I will.” I left the room, leaning over the railing of the staircase. “Skord!”
“Yes?” He came into view, looking up at me.
“Lord Vapnford’s wound needs stitching.”
“I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Thank you.” I returned to the room. “He’ll bring the items.” I sat in a chair, watching Finn carefully. “Are you injured anywhere else? I didn’t see anything.”
“No.”
There had been few people in the hall, which was unusual. The Vikings loved their drink and women; they enjoyed a lusty celebration. Why was it so quiet tonight? I wouldn’t have the opportunity to ask Finn, because Skord returned with the thread and needle, and much to my chagrin, he was the one to tend to the wound. I had longed to touch him, but he didn’t want the help of a witch.
“Might I have a look at it?”
The arctic eyes of the Viking were on me. “Your concern for my welfare is admirable. You needn’t pretend you care.”
I was taken aback by his tone. “I know a little about the healing arts. My mother was adept at concocting brews that took away infection and improved health. I’ve learned a great deal from her.”
“It’s just a scratch. I’ve had far worse and lived.”
I gazed at my dress, amazed that I wore something so fine. “Suit yourself.” I felt like a princess.
He took in my appearance. “You’ve stolen Lady Abbot’s things, I see.”
“She’s not here. I’ve borrowed the dress. It’s not stolen.”
“I’m dining with my noblemen tonight. Join me?”
This request was a surprise, and I tamped down an irrational feeling of flattery. “If you wish me there, then I’ll accompany you.” An image of a woman being taken by two men on a chair went through my mind. I had seen a great deal of debauchery that first night. Is that what they had planned for me? “Am I the entertainment?”
He understood my meaning immediately. “All that I require of you is that you eat. You may drink, if you wish.”
“Fine. I’ll go down.”
“A wise choice.” He got to his feet. “Then let’s not linger. I’m starving.”
We descended together, under the watchful eyes of several Vikings, including Bram Laxdale. His smile was gregarious and his demeanor charming. He was a scoundrel of the first order, but I had been with him for several days, and he had treated me well. He had plucked me from the forest and ravished me shortly thereafter.
“Ah, Lora,” he said, grinning. “Have you pleased our Viking Lord well?”
I glanced at Finn, who scowled while reaching for a cup. “I…he thinks me a witch. He won’t touch me.”
“The entire village thinks you a witch. I’ve seen how dimwitted they are. I wouldn’t put much weight on the words of idiots.” He eyed Finn. “You’ve not sampled her charms? She’s easy to look at, my friend. She’s even better to fuck.”
Lord Vapnfjord glared at us from the head of the table. “This is not a conversation I wish to have.” He signaled to a man sitting on a crate. “Music.”
“Ja,” he said and began to play.
Servants brought out food, carried on platters. I sat near Finn with strangers on either side, who stared at me; their expressions were interested, yet suspicious. I marveled at the fact that these fierce warriors would be afraid of a woman. The servers were reluctant to pour mead into my cup, so I was obliged to do it myself. I drank, enjoying the heady sensation of the alcohol blazing a path through my system. The Vikings talked about their businesses, their families, and how they would spend their ill-gotten goods. The majority of the men were from the same clan, and they swore fealty to Finn. Longstanding friendships and family bonds held them together. The relaxed atmosphere was indicative of people who had known one another for a long time.
I had gotten up to relieve myself, and, upon returning, Bram grabbed me, bringing me onto his lap. “Have you missed me, Lora?”
“You’re a libertine, and you know it.”
He looked wounded. “I treated you well. You were fair to starving when I found you. I gave you food, shelter, and my cock.”
“Then you graciously sold me to Matheus, who promptly abandoned me.”
“Money has always been a motivator for him. I’m sorry about that.”
“No you’re not. You’re just an obnoxious Viking without a conscience.” Finn watched us from his chair.
“You mustn’t be so sore. You’re by far the loveliest woman in town, probably even the entire country.”
“I don’t care for heathen sweet talk.” Although I wasn’t fond of the raiders or their insufferable libidos, I was cognizant of the fact that Finn was watching, and, for some reason, I wanted to make him jealous. I could feel the weight of his stare, as it all but burned a hole through me. I had
n’t made a move to get up from Bram’s lap. His hand was on my outer thigh, stroking me leisurely.
“You look lovely in that dress. You’d look even better naked and riding my cock.”
“Ouf!”
He grinned shamelessly. “Might I have a kiss at least?”
“Haven’t you kissed everyone in the village by now?”
“Hardly.” He looked affronted. “I’m quite selective. I prefer fresh girls, not worn-out whores.”
I shook my head, fighting a smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Come now.” He pointed to his mouth. “Give me a little peck.”
A flush had developed from the mead that spread from my chest to my face. I hadn’t been this giddy and untroubled in a long time. Feeling careless and curious, I placed my lips on Bram’s, wondering how Finn would react. Our kiss had hardly begun when a loud thumping sounded, which rattled the dishes and cups on the table. I glanced at Finn, who seethed; his nostrils were flaring. He had been responsible for the disturbance.
“Well, puppet. Up you go.” Bram lifted me from his lap. “You hold more interest for our Lord than I thought. You’re clearly off-limits.”
Finn got to his feet; his presence was menacing from the other end of the table. “Sof bú vel. It’s late. I shall retire.” He glanced at me, and I got the distinct impression that I was to join him, which produced an irrational burst of tingles.
“I’d claim this beauty as your own, Finn,” said Bram. “You’ll regret it, if you don’t. She’s a fine woman. Don’t let the chatter of dimwits rob you of what she has to offer.” He winked. “You’ll be thanking me in the morning.”
The Viking lord approached the stairs, his booted feet clicking on the wooden floor. He cast a stark look in my direction. “Lora.”
Cum For The Viking 3 (Lora's Seduction) Page 3