by Kirby Crow
"We have never even kissed,” Ranulf observed, which made Aleyn jerk his gaze up to the Viking's face. It was a bizarre thing to say, under the circumstances.
"What?” he got out. The mead had made his tongue fuzzy and he was sorry he had drunk so much of it.
"I only got a taste of your mouth before you stopped me. That does not seem fair.” His voice was very gentle as he continued to stroke and rub his stiffening cock before Aleyn's face.
Aleyn licked his lips. Yes, it was strange and not at all normal to have this Viking on his chest, stroking a bead of come from his big prick and spreading it over his shaft. It was also terribly exciting, and even though he did not comprehend the source of his excitement, it did not lessen the heat coursing through his blood.
"What do you want me to do?"
Ranulf remained silent, fisting his cock slowly and looking at Aleyn with intense interest.
Aleyn raised a tentative hand. He could feel his own prick beginning to swell and grow hard under his breeches. “Do you want me to...?"
Abruptly, Ranulf slid back and dropped to his knees at the foot of the bunk. He pushed Aleyn's knees apart until he was crouched between them, and then began to tug at Aleyn's breeches.
This again, Aleyn thought as he helped him with the laces. He would not object. Nothing that felt as good as the Viking's mouth on him could he object to, no matter how much of a sin it was. To his surprise, Ranulf did not simply tug his clothing aside, but removed his boots and wool socks and pulled his breeches completely off, throwing them over his shoulder. He pushed Aleyn's legs very far apart, and Aleyn sat up halfway with a feeling of misgiving.
"What are you doing?” he asked, for Ranulf's index finger was in his mouth, and Aleyn stared as he watched the jarl wet his finger generously with his own saliva. He jerked back a little when Ranulf took his finger and slid it under Aleyn's balls, the wet tip probing at the small, hidden entrance there, but Ranulf's hand was strong on his hip, holding him in place.
Ranulf ran a spit-slicked finger around his hole, and Aleyn stiffened. “No,” he gasped.
Ranulf ignored him and continued to circle and caress that puckered entrance. Aleyn twisted and tried to slip from his grasp, which only made the Northman hold him that much tighter.
"Be still."
"But you ... I don't like that."
Ranulf gave Aleyn's prick, stiff and jutting up proudly between his thighs, a dubious look. “How would you know?"
Aleyn cast about for an answer. How did he? Ranulf took his silence for assent and slipped his finger in to the first knuckle, twisting it experimentally. Aleyn's hand gripped the Northman's shoulder, fingers digging into skin.
"That hurts."
"Only because you squirm about so much. Relax and it will stop."
Ranulf's voice was measured and low, his hands steady, and Aleyn shivered and twisted his head so that his cheek scraped the rough wool of the blankets. He struggled to bring his body under control, though every instinct he had was telling him to shrink from that invading finger, to wrench and pull away from the intrusion into his body.
Ranulf kissed his thigh. “Very good.” He pushed his wetted finger in another inch to the second knuckle, and when Aleyn tensed and gasped, he pushed yet more until his hand was flush against the curve of Aleyn's buttocks. Aleyn trembled, his muscles shuddering with tension, and Ranulf planted another kiss close to his balls and gave the crease of his thigh a long lick.
"Give it a moment,” he soothed. “Be still."
Aleyn exhaled sharply when Ranulf began to flick his tongue over the sensitive skin of his balls, and very nearly cried out when he felt that slick tongue probe hard at the base of his cock. He did cry out when Ranulf took him fully in his mouth in one sudden movement, surrounding his cock with incredible heat, swallowing him to the base. It felt like his skull was exploding.
"Oh god,” he gasped.
Ranulf hummed around the hard shaft in his mouth and stopped for a moment, looking up at Aleyn, a pleased smile on his wet mouth. “You liked that, I think."
Ranulf's finger was still inside him, but it did not bother him so much now that his cock was hard and Ranulf was pleasuring him so well with his mouth.
Aleyn did not reply, but reached down and cupped Ranulf's face in his hands, guiding it back to his member. Ranulf grinned and complied, taking him back in and sucking him, sliding his mouth up and down, his bearded cheeks hollowing and filling. He slid his hand under Aleyn's rump, cupping a round buttock as he aided Aleyn's thrusts into his mouth, bringing him closer to completion.
When Aleyn was on the brink, Ranulf took his opportunity and pushed his finger in the last tiny bit and curled upwards, stroking hard across the hidden gland inside. Aleyn was struck dumb by the wave of pleasure that seemed to course from deep inside him, making a bee-line straight for his cock. For one long, timeless moment, that was all he was: a string of ecstasy caught between his hard, leaking prick and the finger buried inside him, joined together by Ranulf's eager mouth sucking him with devastating skill, his blond head bobbing as his finger began to thrust in and out.
Aleyn gave a cry so loud he was sure the Northmen would think he was being murdered or Ranulf was splitting him in half. His hips bucked as he shot his seed deep into the Viking's throat, his hands on Ranulf's head, pushing down, almost gorging him with it as his captor, his self-proclaimed master, swallowed and swallowed.
An endless time later, Aleyn's hands went slack and Ranulf pulled away. The Viking carefully eased his finger out of him, eliciting a moan from Aleyn, and he wiped his beard with the back of his hand. Aleyn sprawled on the bed like a dead thing, his legs splayed and his muscles trembling with the aftermath of pleasure. He barely felt Ranulf easing into the bed beside him, but he stirred a little when he felt Ranulf's hand on his chest. The man began to pinch and roll one of his nipples between his fingers.
"That was a fine thing,” Ranulf said, as if thinking it over.
Aleyn could not bring himself to argue. At first, Ranulf may have captured him and held him against his will, but there was no denying that his body responded to the big Northman like a dog to his master's voice, as if it were made for one purpose: to serve Ranulf in any way he wished.
When he did not speak, Ranulf reached over and drew Aleyn's unresisting body higher into the bed, turning him so his back was to Ranulf's chest.
Now he will take me, Aleyn thought. His muscles went taut with sudden fear. Even though Ranulf had shown every consideration with his body, Aleyn could not help but dread what was to come. The compartment had grown dark, and Aleyn realized that night had fallen without his notice.
Ranulf must have felt the tension in his muscles, for he stroked Aleyn like a skittish horse and murmured barely-audible words under his breath. The words were foreign, but Aleyn could sense their meaning. Ranulf was reassuring him.
None of that helped when Ranulf's arm went around his waist and he pulled Aleyn's buttocks to his groin, and Aleyn felt the hard, thick shaft probing against the soft cleft of his ass. He inhaled sharply and Ranulf fitted his lips to the soft spot under Aleyn's ear, his beard scraping pleasurably.
Aleyn's fingers knotted in the wool coverlets when he heard Ranulf spit into his hand. From the movements behind him, he could tell Ranulf was spreading the saliva over his cock, wetting it like he had with his finger, preparing to penetrate him. Ranulf reached around and spread Aleyn's legs, but to his surprise, Ranulf slid his damp cock between Aleyn's thighs, not inside him.
"Close your legs tightly,” he rumbled into Aleyn's ear, his breath harsh.
Shocked, Aleyn complied, and Ranulf thrust a few times experimentally. Aleyn felt friction and the pleasant sensation of rubbing under his balls, the scratch of coarse pubic hairs against his rump, and he squeezed his thighs together a little. The answering moan from Ranulf was enough to make him do it again, and Ranulf's hand cupped his chin and turned his neck so their mouths were almost touching.
"Sweet prison
er,” Ranulf groaned, and covered his lips with his own in a claiming kiss.
Aleyn was far too dazed to think about what he meant at the moment. Ranulf was thrusting harder, his belly slapping against Aleyn's ass and his rigid cock jerking between his thighs, and then Ranulf stiffened and grunted loudly and his prick pulsed and jerked before spurting its burden between Aleyn's legs, painting a thick coat of come there. Ranulf's thrusts slowed, but he continued to slide his still-hard prick back and forth leisurely, as if savoring every ounce of pleasure he could wring from his captive's body. His hand was still under Aleyn's chin and he caressed his throat, leaning over to kiss his ear.
"You make a very pleasing thraell,” he murmured.
Aleyn winced. Thraell was a word that meant little better than slave. As far as he was concerned, these were not love words, but a conqueror gloating over how his prisoner's body had betrayed him. He had no choice but to submit, true, but he should not have enjoyed it. He should have given in with curses held behind his teeth, loathing every touch on his body, but accepting it as the price of his freedom. This ... he did not know what this was. He was sure it was not honorable.
"I am not your slave,” he managed to mutter. “You may take me when you please, but that does not make me your slave."
"What does, then?” Ranulf's hand went to Aleyn's prick and caressed it. To Aleyn's horror, it began to rise obediently. Ranulf snorted in his ear. “Your body is wiser than you. It knows who its master is."
Aleyn thrust his hand away from his sex. “I do only what I must,” he hissed. “It's not as if you gave me a choice."
Ranulf's hand went back between Aleyn's legs, and his arm fitted around his waist and pulled tight in warning when Aleyn would have pushed him off again. “You know nothing of yourself,” Ranulf purred deeply in his ear, like a lion devouring a lamb. “And you are luckier than you know. Another man would have taken you already, and you would have hated it. I like your body, but I like you more. Thus, I am patient."
The thought that Ranulf might like him was too much for Aleyn. “You're lying,” he quavered. “You can't ... like me if you hold me prisoner."
"I can and do,” Ranulf answered, beginning to kiss up and down Aleyn's neck, rubbing his beard against his skin. A long strand of his flowing hair slipped over Aleyn's shoulder and rested against his throat. “Indeed, I must guard my heart against liking you too much."
He pressed a last kiss to Aleyn's hair and quietly withdrew to the other side of the bed, leaving Aleyn to stare into the dark with his mind packed full of confusion. He was awake long after Ranulf had begun to snore, and finally he closed his eyes. Though he slept, he found no comfort in it, for all his dreams were of a big, blond Viking who kissed him until he was breathless, then claimed his body on a burning ship full of slaughtered men.
* * * *
Morning seemed to come more swiftly the further south they went. Aleyn spent an agitated night tossing and turning, and in the morning Ranulf climbed out of bed before him and dressed in his leathers, never once taking his eyes off his captive.
"You're a restless one. You spent most of the night thrusting your elbows into your poor bedmate's side,” he joked.
Aleyn scowled and Ranulf laughed and tossed him more bread and cheese and told him to be on deck as soon as he had eaten.
Later, as he worked on the coils of rope, he mused about the night of pleasure before and kept his thoughts turned away from Ranulf's words. That was easy, for he did not believe him in the least. Sweet prisoner, indeed! It was not so easy to forget his hands or the way his mouth had felt on his skin, the way he had of flicking his tongue wetly over the head of Aleyn's cock, making him whimper with pleasure.
His head was down as he worked on the rope, when suddenly the longship rounded the bend of the coastline and he spied the village clustered on the hill just beyond the rocky sand. It consisted of a handful of houses, a mill, and a few barns: nothing very prosperous nor especially worth a Viking's attention. A few hectares of green wheat displayed their short stalks in a field just beyond the village, and several sheep tufted the low-lying meadow. He was surprised when he heard Ranulf's shout from the stern and the longship turned into the wind, making for the shoreline.
Aleyn's jaw dropped. Without thinking, he jumped up and strode down the length of the deck to the jarl. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
Ranulf pointed to the shore. “We raid,” he answered, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"They're just farmers! They don't have any silver!"
He shrugged. “We take what we find. It adds up."
"But you can't!” He ran up to Ranulf, his fists bunched. He had no thought to his own safety, only that he must stop what was about to happen. “You can't do this! I won't let you!"
Ranulf did a double-take, looking at him like he had lost his mind, and then exploded into loud laughter, followed by his men. Aleyn's ears burned in humiliation as the ridicule washed over him. Ranulf put his hands on Aleyn's shoulders, looking down on him with eyes glimmering and teary from mirth.
"And how will you stop me?” he asked, inquiring as if of a puppy.
Aleyn's temper burned like a hot coal inside his breast. He glanced to the railing, and then flicked his eyes to the distance between the ship and the shore, the shore and the village. He tried to dart aside, meaning to throw himself over the railing.
Ranulf was quicker. He caught him painfully by his hair and dragged him back from the edge of the railing, then wrapped his big, brawny arms around Aleyn from behind. “Ho! You would drown yourself?"
Aleyn kicked and struggled to get free, not bothering to answer. He could swim, damn it! He could make it to the shore, he could warn them, if only he could get free of Ranulf! That was the only thing running through his mind at the moment: Get free, get away from him! If you run then his words weren't true, you're not a willing slave, not a whore!
He might as well have tried to break iron chains with his bare hands. The Vikings laughed as Ranulf deftly kicked his legs out from under him and bore him to the deck, using his own weight to pin him face-first against the smooth wooden planks.
"It is good you have made so much rope,” Ranulf laughed as the men jeered. He grabbed a length of that same rope and began to bind Aleyn's arms to his chest, looping it around several times before flipping him onto his back.
Aleyn was spitting mad as Ranulf began to lash his hands together in front of him, the knots neat, clever, and impossible to untie with his arms bound to his sides. Aleyn cursed him in words his aunt would have scrubbed his mouth with soap for, and Ranulf laughed and offered suggestions and improvements on his obscenities as he bound his ankles tightly together. Trussed and immobile, Ranulf hauled him to his feet like a sack and slung him over one shoulder, carrying him toward the hatch that led below deck. Aleyn bucked and kicked and nearly succeeded in unbalancing Ranulf, but all it earned him was a sharp slap on his rear.
"You wiggle like a worm!” Ranulf guffawed, and the Vikings laughed uproariously as he was carried into the dim interior of the compartment and thrown on the bunk.
Aleyn laid there and glared at Ranulf, very aware of how foolish and helpless he looked. It loosened his tongue and made him reckless. “Pig!” he snarled. Ranulf made to touch his leg and Aleyn kicked at him with both his bound feet. “Keep your hands off me!"
Predictably, Ranulf ignored Aleyn's anger and held his legs down with a well-placed knee, his other hand pinning Aleyn's shoulder to the bunk.
"You look very good this way.” Ranulf ran his hand up Aleyn's flank, pausing to cup one buttock in his big hand. “Perhaps I will leave you like this, and perhaps tonight I will take you as a war-captive would be taken, your ankles tied apart as I enter you."
Aleyn tried to keep his voice steady, though inwardly he had begun to quake. Ranulf was capable of doing what he promised. “We had a bargain."
"The bargain was that you would please me."
"It would please you
to rape a man who was tied hand and foot, who could not even resist you?” Aleyn spat, again forgetting his caution. He hated this Viking!
"Yes,” Ranulf answered, unperturbed. He continued to knead the firm mound of Aleyn's rump. “I think penetrating you would bring me great pleasure."
He leaned over Aleyn and tried to kiss him. Aleyn turned his head, so that Ranulf's lips landed on his cheek. At once, Aleyn found his chin seized in an iron grip as Ranulf turned his face back to him.
"You denied me your mouth,” Ranulf growled dangerously. “That is a foolish thing to do. If I want your mouth, or your hands, or even your arse” and he gave one of Aleyn's buttocks a firm pinch “you will give it to me at once, or I will take it."
Aleyn watched him, his breath coming in quick gasps. He had never been bound before. The sensation of the ropes cutting across his chest, constricting his breathing and holding his arms immobile, was causing him to panic. He struggled wildly.
"Stop...” he panted, but even through the terror of being bound, he was aware of Ranulf's nearness and smell, of the way his great muscles bunched beneath his leather shirt and the corner of his mouth curved upward in sudden lust. His traitorous cock began to stir as Ranulf's hand strayed around to slowly caress his inner thigh. In a moment more, he would touch his prick and find out that he was hard.
Aleyn wriggled, trying to writhe his way out of the ropes, and Ranulf's hand closed over the bulge in his breeches. Aleyn gasped, and Ranulf gave him a knowing smile.
"I know your nature better than you do, Irlander,” Ranulf said, slowly rubbing his hand in a circular motion over the hard outline of Aleyn's cock.
Aleyn could feel his face burning with humiliation. “You're wrong,” he got out, feeling like he was strangling. “I don't enjoy this, it's just ... I don't ... how do you make me feel this...” he broke off as Ranulf opened his breeches and took his leaking shaft into his hand.
Ranulf gave his hard sex a slow, experimental stroke. “You would come very quickly now, if I did this,” he said, his voice measured and rich, as if he savored every word. “The ropes excite you. I excite you. Being bound and under my will excites you."