by Kirby Crow
"Tell me anyway,” he murmured as his lips found Aleyn's ear. He sucked a soft lobe between his teeth and bit down gently. “Tell me."
"I said,” Aleyn began, and then hissed as Ranulf's mouth found the sensitive spot under his ear and nuzzled there, rubbing his rough-soft beard against his skin. “I said that he was the offspring of a horny goat and a diseased mare."
Ranulf snorted. “You have an imagination."
"It was wasted on him."
"You must have been much trouble to your parents."
"They died before I knew them,” Aleyn answered, making Ranulf pause.
"You have no family?"
"None who would claim me."
He stroked Aleyn's arm, the one with the scar. The Irlander was careful to hide the scar from him, but Ranulf had perceptive hands. Aleyn jerked away a little, as if the white mark burned at his touch. Ranulf hummed against Aleyn's throat, using teeth and tongue to make him arch and squirm. He kissed his way across one fine cheekbone to the other, then moved to his mouth and hovered there, his warm breath gusting over Aleyn's lips.
"I would claim you,” he said, his voice low and heated. He watched Aleyn swallow and look at his mouth, and Ranulf rolled their bodies on the bed so that he was partially on top of Aleyn. He gave the corner of Aleyn's mouth an experimental kiss. “You would not give me your mouth earlier. Will you do it now?"
Aleyn was silent, and Ranulf pulled away to look at him. He pushed a lock of Aleyn's dark hair out of his eyes. Despite his vow to keep his feelings out of this matter, he could not help the sudden pull at his heart when Aleyn reached up and traced his finger along the deep curve of his cheekbone.
"I don't know,” he answered.
Ranulf's eyebrows went up. “Is the Irlander admitting to fear?"
He had meant it as a joke, for he could not help teasing such an open and pretty face, but Aleyn nodded in all seriousness. “Yes."
He placed another kiss on the other side of his mouth. “I will not hurt you."
"That's not what I'm afraid of."
Ranulf eased Aleyn's shirt up over his head, throwing it to the side. He allowed his hand to roam across soft skin, eliciting a shiver from the slender body under him. “What are you afraid of?"
Aleyn placed his hands on Ranulf's shoulders, pushing him back. He gazed into the Northman's eyes soberly. “I'm afraid if I kiss you, I will make a mistake. I may forget the way things are and mistake you for someone you're not"
"I am your lover."
Aleyn shook his head. “You're my jailer."
His hand caressed the juncture between Aleyn's thighs, and the flesh there began to lengthen and fill. “I can be both."
Aleyn shook his head, an expression of distress crossing his features, but Ranulf could tell that his resolve was crumbling. He pushed Aleyn's thighs apart and settled his body between them, pushing his own hard cock against Aleyn's, the leather barriers between them feeling thin as a breeze.
"Tonight, we will be lovers,” he said. “Leave tomorrow for tomorrow. All is preordained. Worry will profit you nothing.” He put his hand under Aleyn's chin and tipped his mouth up for a kiss.
"Surrender, Aleyn,” he whispered, and kissed him. Aleyn moaned but kept his mouth closed, and Ranulf patiently probed at the shut entrance with the tip of his tongue, gently easing him open. Once Aleyn relented and his lips parted the smallest bit, Ranulf pushed forward like a conqueror, forcing his thick tongue into the soft and heated depths of Aleyn's mouth, reveling in his sharp intake of breath, the way his hands scrabbled at his shoulders for a moment before going to his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss.
Ranulf moaned and moved his hips, rubbing their pricks together, and he was gratified when Aleyn's legs sweetly moved wider apart. He broke the kiss and gasped into Aleyn's ear, his hand jerking at the front of Aleyn's breeches, working to free his erect cock.
"I cannot wait to take you,” he breathed. “I cannot wait to be inside you."
Aleyn stiffened a little as Ranulf announced his intentions, and his hands fell from Ranulf's neck. “I don't want to do that,” he said fearfully.
"Yes, you do,” Ranulf said, claiming another possessive kiss, refusing to stop until Aleyn was again clutching at his shoulders and gasping. “Your body is wiser than you, my prisoner. Let your mind rest.” He ducked his head to swipe his tongue over a nipple. “Let your body lead you."
Aleyn groaned when Ranulf freed his hard cock and rubbed the length of it on his belly, painting a line of slick between them. He made no protest when Ranulf began to pull at his breeches and boots, undressing him fully. Ranulf took his hand and drew it down between their bodies, until Aleyn's fingers were on the head of his dick.
"Touch me,” he said, his blue eyes glittering in the dim light. “Put your hand on me."
* * * *
Aleyn looked up at the man on top of him, feeling the firm grip on his wrist, the pressure of the heavy body holding him pinned, the hot, slick feel of the cock-head resting under his fingers. His heart thudded against his ribs like a wild thing trapped in a cage, and Ranulf's heated, lustful look only made it worse.
He has caged me, he thought. Without ever locking me up, he has chained me to him. What kind of power or dark magic is this? He's made me his whore and all I want is his touch on me.
Ranulf pulled his hand lower, urging him to wrap his fingers around the thick girth of his big cock.
"Move your hand,” Ranulf urged, and then his eyes closed on a spasm of pleasure. “Yes. Up and down, like you do with your own.” He moaned and said yes another time or two, and his hips began to thrust into Aleyn's grip. He put his lips to Aleyn's ear and panted and licked, and Aleyn's eyes widened.
I'm doing this to him, he thought. I'm making him feel this.
It was a heady thought, carrying a strange sense of power. Aleyn found his hand closing harder around Ranulf's prick, stroking faster. The Viking arched his neck and bit off a strangled cry. It was the first time Aleyn had heard him make such a sound. He realized this was power, of a sort: power over his helplessness, power over his present captivity. It was power to make Ranulf drop his guard and cry out in pure pleasure.
Aleyn pushed Ranulf's shoulder experimentally. To his surprise, the man meekly let himself be pushed onto his side. Aleyn scooted down in the bunk a little until his nose was level with Ranulf's waist. He continued to fist the engorged cock in his hand and risked a glance up at Ranulf. The Northman was watching him intently, his tongue held between his teeth, neither offering encouragement nor directing his movements, and Aleyn decided to test his bravery. Moving slowly, he pressed a kiss to Ranulf's stomach. The curling hairs tickled his nose, and he pressed a little harder, his lips moving against Ranulf's navel. Ranulf inhaled shakily, and Aleyn was astonished to feel a hand on the back of his head, caressing very gently, urging him lower.
This must be what it feels like to tame a bear, Aleyn thought. Ranulf seemed different since he returned from the village raid, gentler. After the interlude with Haakon, Aleyn had been dreading Ranulf's return. Before the raid, Ranulf had all but promised to rape him when he came back. Something had happened in the little village, but what?
Aleyn brought the cock to his lips and kissed the tip experimentally. He swiped the moisture on his lower lip away with his tongue, tasting a man for the first time. To his surprise, it was not as he imagined. It was salty and bitter at the same time, slicker than honey. He took the head of Ranulf's cock in his mouth and rubbed his tongue against it, gratified to hear the Northman utter a shaken groan. Ranulf arched his hips, seeking to push his shaft into Aleyn's throat, but Aleyn gripped his prick and held himself back a little, resisting Ranulf's urging hand on the back of his head. He was in control now.
He drew back for a moment and licked Ranulf's prick from head to base, rolling the unique taste around in his mouth. Ranulf hissed, and Aleyn inhaled through his nose, drawing in the male scent. Both of Ranulf's hands were on his head now, and Ranulf was mu
ttering words in his own language, guttural phrases that Aleyn had not a hope of understanding, although he guessed their meaning quick enough. Ranulf wanted him to open his mouth and he wanted to slide his prick in, he wanted Aleyn to close his lips over it and suck.
Ranulf's hoarse, whispered entreaties were so urgent that Aleyn was encouraged enough to open his mouth wider and take half of the thick member. Ranulf's response was inspiring.
Aleyn reached back for the memory of how Ranulf had driven him to ecstasy, how Ranulf had closed his mouth around his shaft and moved the ring of his lips up and down, how Ranulf's hands had rubbed at the base of his prick and fondled his balls. He mimicked what he remembered, and Ranulf began to gasp for breath, his hips following Aleyn's movements with little jolts.
"I will spend if you keep this up,” Ranulf panted, his voice strained.
Aleyn sensed it was a warning. Did Ranulf want him to stop, or did he merely think his seed would disgust him? To tell the truth, he thought, it probably would.
His pride had always been contrary. Even though he sensed that the Northman was speaking only for his benefit, he deliberately began to massage Ranulf's cock at the base and sucked harder, his head bobbing eagerly on the wide pole impaling his mouth.
Ranulf hips jerked as he sought to thrust deeper, and he grunted and cried out as he came in thick, hot spurts on Aleyn's tongue. After the initial surprise, Aleyn swallowed reflexively, barely tasting the sperm filling his mouth.
Sweating, Ranulf collapsed back as Aleyn wiped his lips, but that was all the respite Aleyn was given. He felt himself seized by the arms, and then Ranulf was rolling over on top of him, cupping his face in his hands and claiming his mouth in an urgent, possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting deep into Aleyn's throat for the taste of himself.
Aleyn made a panicked little noise—he could barely breathe!—and then Ranulf was off him, jerking at his own clothing and stripping himself fully. Returning, he pulled Aleyn into his arms, skin to skin, and began to caress him with hot, hard hands.
"My prisoner,” he moaned, biting Aleyn's ear, throat. His hands found Aleyn's hard dick, and he gave a pleased growl and began to stroke with short, quick movements.
Aleyn gasped. How quickly this Northman could bring him to the brink! Ranulf, sensing his orgasm was near, paused to slip a hand into the cleft of Aleyn's ass.
Aleyn moaned in disappointment. “Don't stop..."
"I could make you feel such pleasure,” Ranulf murmured into his ear. His beard rubbed against Aleyn's smooth cheek as his index finger began to shallowly thrust in and out of Aleyn's puckered hole. Aleyn writhed and shuddered at the unfamiliar sensation. The friction and pressure were not entirely unpleasant, but the idea that it was Ranulf doing something so very intimate to him made his head spin.
"Please...” His cock was so hard, he would come if Ranulf so much as touched it. He thrust upwards, trying to rub his aching shaft against Ranulf's hairy belly.
Ranulf laughed and removed his finger to take Aleyn's cock in his hand again. He fondled the firm flesh and smiled down into Aleyn's face, his handsome features alight with lust and pleasure.
"Northman,” Aleyn begged.
"Say my name,” he rumbled. “Say it."
"Ranulf!” Aleyn cried out as he spent into the Viking's hand.
He collapsed, trembling, his forehead pressed to Ranulf's chest. Ranulf wiped his hand carelessly on the covers and began to caress the smooth muscles of Aleyn's back, holding him.
"I thought about making you beg for all the fuss you put up,” he said conversationally. “But you sucked me very well, for a first time."
Aleyn was not sure that was a compliment, but he decided not to be offended. Besides, he was too tired.
When he did not answer, Ranulf nipped his shoulder with his teeth, not very hard. “Have you nothing to say?"
"Such as?"
"You could thank me."
Aleyn was too weary to manage more than a huff of derision.
"You should thank me,” Ranulf went on mildly, his hands learning the shape of Aleyn's shoulders and arms. “I usually do not take such care to seduce a prisoner."
"You just rape them and have done with it?” Aleyn murmured, sliding toward sleep.
"Is that what you think this is?” Ranulf's hand slid lower. “I have not hurt you. And I could, my prisoner.” He cupped Aleyn's buttock meaningfully. “I could hurt you very badly."
Aleyn breathed warmly into Ranulf's neck, more awake now. Why hasn't he? he wondered. What holds him back? He refused to ask, and Ranulf sighed.
"Is it so difficult to believe that I value you?"
Aleyn shook his head, though he was not answering, and after a moment, Ranulf sighed again and his hands went still.
He fell asleep with Ranulf's arms around him.
* * * *
"Did he put the man-rúnar on you?” Oskell asked, smiling his cold smile. “Did he use the love spells these Irlanders talk about?"
Ranulf shot him a waggish look. “Perhaps.” It was near dark and the water was uncommonly still. The sky was the shade of blood.
Oskell tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to his jarl, moving aside to give Ranulf room to sit. “What was the shape of this spell?"
"The shape of his mouth, which is fine enough for a song."
Oskell laughed and ate his bread, lapsing into silence as they watched the red sky continue to darken into night. “Should we beach by the shore?” Oskell asked. “We need to take on fresh water soon."
Ranulf looked to the shore. It was sloping and sandy, with a low cliff to the west. “We can."
Oskell slapped the crumbs from his hands and stood. “I'll give the word. How's your leg?"
Ranulf flexed the muscle and held back a wince. “It feels hot, but perhaps it will heal on its own. The boy's knife was dirty. Give it a day. Then, I may have to burn it out."
Oskell nodded soberly. Cauterizing was a sound move. “I will help, when the time comes.” He moved off to give orders to turn the ship shoreward and beach it.
After a few minutes, Ranulf stood and made for the bow, seeing that he would have to pass Haakon as he did so. The red sokeman kept his head down and barely glanced up, and inwardly Ranulf sneered at him. Dog! Too weak to keep his own bedmates, so he sniffed around at mine! Haakon was a worm.
The man's ill behavior made him cross, so he kicked a wooden bucket filled with tools that was placed near the chest that doubled as Haakon's seat at the oars. The bucket upended and implements spilled everywhere.
Now he looks at me, Ranulf thought in satisfaction, and began to curse Haakon roundly for “leaving his things lying about in the middle of the deck".
"If you cannot keep your place intact, you should stay home and have your mother pick up after you!” he thundered, stomping to the bow, very aware of Haakon's murderous eyes nailed to his back.
Oskell watched Haakon pick up the scattered tools with unease. “That was unwise,” he said aside to Ranulf.
Ranulf snorted. “He was in my compartment while we were ashore, pawing at Aleyn."
Oskell looked even more disturbed. “Who knows of this? It is unseemly that a jarl would quarrel with his own man over a slut Irlander. He could whisper that you have been bewitched."
Ranulf looked at him for a long moment. A salt-smelling breeze tugged at his long hair as the keel of the ship nosed the sand-bottom. “Would you say the same if it had been Gamelin?"
Oskell's mouth grew tight. “That is different and you know it."
Only different because Aleyn is a foreigner, Ranulf thought. A few days ago, he would have thought the same, but he was becoming used to this Irlander and forgetting his differences. Perhaps he was bewitched.
"I have claimed him as thraell, so there is no difference,” Ranulf informed him curtly. “And he will travel with us back to Ribe when we turn for home. He is mine. Now, speak to me no more of this,” he ordered.
"But, jarl..."
"I said cease,
damn you!” he barked. Several heads turned and looked, and Oskell bowed his head with cool dignity and moved off to secure the shore.
* * * *
"Our jarl is bewitched. The Irlander has seized his mind along with his balls."
Oskell's deep voice answered the hushed, furtive whisper. “Our jarl is a great warrior, Haakon. You would not dare to say such things to his face."
The oily voice went on. “Were he in his right mind, I would. But this Irlander, this little sly one ... who knows what magic he has wrought? Already, the jarl has let several slaves go free. The boys in the last village would have fetched a good price from the Saxons, but what did we take from there? Wool and fleas!"
"He is our jarl."
Haakon shrugged. “So long as he leads us well, he is jarl. It has always been thus. But the Irlander may be to blame. Is it not our duty to Ranulf to dispose of this trifling boy?"
Oskell was silent for several moments, considering. Haakon's grievance was just, for Vikings raided for plunder and riches and so far there had been very little of that, yet he disliked Haakon and had never had any reason to trust him. This sudden concern over Aleyn's influence smacked of deceit.
"There may be truth to what you say,” Oskell allowed reluctantly “but I would not go behind Ranulf's back to settle his problems. Let us wait and see, and if matters worsen we will take it before him."
"Perhaps it is Ranulf who should be removed."
Oskell took a deep, calming breath and forced himself to keep his hand away from his sword hilt. “I warn you: be very certain you are worthy of any challenge you make. I promise you death, if you are not."
The waves slapped indolently against the stern of the longship as its keel lay lightly mired in the soft sand of the shore. The night progressed, and in the men's hearts, a shadow of mutiny began to breed.
* * * *
The next week was a blur for Aleyn. He spent his days on the deck, working in rain or sun at whatever task Oskell set him to, trying to keep from counting the hours until dusk, when Ranulf would order him into the small compartment. Afterwards, the big Viking would spend hours exploring his body, muttering his strange and guttural language into Aleyn's ear, his rough hands mapping every inch of him.