The Viking's Conquest

by Felicity Brandon

  His lips reach my chin, but he pauses as he considers my words.

  “And why would I do that?” he enquires.

  “I do not know,” I say, the words rushing from me as I recall the terror I had felt in the dream. “You never told me, my Lofðungr…”

  He draws my body closer to him. I feel the binds at my wrists and ankles strain as I move nearer to his imposing physique. Again his organ pulsates against my hip and undeniably there’s a part of me that wants it inside me. The part that wants this need to finally be sated.

  We stand here in the near total shroud of the night, our bodies pressed together, and mine panting for this Viking’s attention. I imagine how we must look to an observer; me bound and extended and Anders the giant looming over my naked frame. His dark sensual voice interrupts my thoughts.

  “So, my captive, you fear being thrown to the wolves and being at the mercy of the savage pack?”

  I inhale sharply as he describes my fear, unsure if I can respond. Fortunately, he continues without me needing to reply.

  “What you want instead then is to have me all to yourself, is that correct?”

  There’s that sardonic tone to his voice and I know he’s mocking me and yet, he is right—at this moment that is exactly what I want.

  “Yes, my Lofðungr… Please.”

  I hear the desperation in my response, my voice thick with need and I pray in silence that he will have some pity for me. I hold my breath as his face moves fractionally away from my body, waiting for his answer.

  “Aurelie,” he laughs softly. “I am the prince—your master. I do not belong to anyone!”

  I tense at his words, disappointment raining over me.

  “Yet I can make it so that you will only belong to me,” he continues. “I can choose not to share you with any of my men—if you make me happy and if it is what you want?”

  What I want? The notion flits through my mind like a bad joke. A few days ago I was in my castle, dressed in finery, being waited upon by my maids and waiting for news from my father. Now, tired, hungry, and naked, I am bound for this man’s pleasure, and worst of all, I have actually enjoyed this abuse.

  I take a deep breath, preparing to answer him. “This is all new to me, my Lofðungr…” I pause, scanning for his features in the gloom. “I have never been taken from my castle before; I have never been anyone’s captive. I have never been used this way; never been spanked by a man!” I feel the tears springing forth as I recall the indignation. “Until yesterday no man had even seen me without my robes!”

  I stop, blinking the hot water from my eyes. He holds me still, his chest rising and falling in front of me.

  “Go on…” he coaxes. “You are mine. Tell me what you feel—what you fear.”

  “And now I find… that I desire you in ways I have never experienced before.” My voice trails off as I flush at my confession.

  “In which ways, Aurelie?”

  I blink at him, anger rising in me. I know he realises exactly in which ways I mean, and yet he insists on making me say it! I swallow hard, feeling my face flame.

  “My Lofðungr! You know to what I speak!”

  He smiles, and I actually hear his pleasure as he pushes the hard organ into my soft belly. I can barely catch my breath as I imagine how it would feel between my thighs.

  “Yes, Aurelie,” he laughs. “I know! And yet I want to hear the words from your sweet and innocent lips. I want to hear that you desire me carnally; that your flesh aches to be filled by my foreign, Nordic manhood.”

  I am both shocked and aroused at his words. That he has so accurately read me is profoundly disconcerting and yet also utterly reassuring. And he’s right of course; I do so want to know him that way.

  “Yes,” I sob, part in defeat and part in frustration at the admission. “I want to know you carnally.”

  His lips find my mouth again, crashing into the wet cavity with confidence. That strong tongue sweeps over my teeth, tasting the remnants of where the fruit had silenced me, and then retreats, teasing my lower lip as it departs. I hang here, the burning throb between my legs goading me, knowing that I am utterly ready to submit to this man.

  Anders’ right hand nestles in the back of my hair, his temple resting against my sweating brow. I feel his other hand snaking south, around the curve of my warmed behind to my outstretched thighs. He does not pause this time, dipping immediately between my wet lips and rubbing his leading digits along my hungry little mound. I moan at the contact, conscious that my hips again have rolled forward to meet him, and yet too immersed in the sweetness of the sensations to care. Slowly, deliberately, he shifts, pressing one fingertip against my need. In an act of unrivalled boldness, I press myself forward, plunging my tight wetness onto his digit. I gasp at the sheer exhilaration of the deed, unable or unwilling to control my desire any longer. Taking my lead, Anders presses the finger even further into me, pushing his hot face into mine as he does. His lips find me again, covering my mouth in caresses as he slowly withdraws the digit, before plunging even deeper inside me.

  I gasp again, moaning at the pleasure, feeling his finger penetrating me over and over again. As it moves I imagine having his entire manhood there instead, stretching and filling me. I roll my head back, relishing his relentless intrusion into my tightly wound body as I feel his hungry mouth following my lips as I move. I know with certainty that I must have him—I must have this man now. I want his masculinity to consume me and overpower me. Despite my every defiant rejection of him, I do want to be his…

  Anders shifts his weight again, rubbing his rock-solid hardness against me as he inserts a second digit into my hot wetness. I yelp as the finger widens me, then relax quickly into the new, more fulfilling sensation.

  “Aurelie.” Anders’ voice is slick with his own desperation.

  My whole body responds to him, my nipples pebbling at the gravelly authority of his voice. I open my mouth to respond and yet only low carnal sounds escape, so consumed am I with the quickening pace of his fingers below.

  “I have to know,” he says, that voice vibrating over me. “Do I have your consent? Do you offer me your maidenhead?”

  His face is right on top of mine and I can feel those blue eyes burning into me, willing me to submit to him and to our mutual desire. The pace of those digits never ceases as he speaks and it takes every ounce of my remaining energy to find the will to answer him.

  “Yes, my Lofðungr! Please take my maidenhead—please take what belongs to you…”

  Anders says nothing, but moves slowly away, withdrawing his fingers and leaving me reeling from the sudden loss. He drops to his knees again in front of me and I feel his kisses caressing my body, one and then two of them at my trembling midriff. At the same time those large hands explore me. One reaches around to my ass, pulling me closer to his face, whilst the other reaches north and finds my needy left breast. He traces a line beneath my bosom before cupping it in his hand. I have no choice but to hang here and feel each sensation that Anders bestows upon me. When his hand finds my nipple and twists, I lurch forward, groaning at the hint of pain, but silently wanting more of it.

  His face has reached my core. I strain my neck forward to see what is transpiring, but soon realise that I can barely make out anything in the gloom. I squirm as I appreciate fully that there is nothing I could do to stop him anyway—I am well and truly his, Anders’ own private paramour. I feel his kisses trailing from my belly down to the soft hair framing my now quivering sex. Once here he moves right, a line of sensation planted on the delicate skin between my lips and my outstretched thigh. I exhale, close to panting again. Never before have I imagined intimacy like this; it’s as though he is worshipping my body in our own personal ritual. His relentless massage of my left nipple continues and I strain once again against my ropes, feeling this futile need to resist the overwhelming desire Anders is producing inside me, but never wanting it to cease.

  “Before I take what belongs to me,” his voice
is a deep vibration between my legs, his hot breath itself caressing my throbbing body, “I want to taste it…”

  I process his words in the darkness, only barely registering their significance until I feel his hands moving south. They both find the hot skin of my sex, gently parting the hair there and spreading my folds. Gasping, I freeze, entranced by his proposal and yet also terrified by it. He wants to taste me… there? The thought should be mortifying and yet I surrender to it completely, such is the desperate need I feel to submit to this man.

  All at once his mouth is on me, the contact unprecedented and initially excruciating. I buck my hips wildly, trying to throw him off of me. All sane and conscious thought has seemingly been abandoned, my entire existence now focusing only on what Anders is going to do between my thighs. He ignores my thrashing apart from one firm swat to my left cheek, which his right hand delivers in the virtual darkness. I understand its meaning at once—keep still—but the spank serves to only heighten my arousal, as his stimulation of my breast had done before.

  I try to steady myself, settling into the sensation of his lips at my wet folds, his facial hair teasing the skin between my legs. Taking a deep breath, I will myself to remain calm as he plants hot kisses on me, beginning at my pulsating little nub and running down to right between my thighs. I know I am making noises. I hear the strange guttural sounds in the air around me and yet they are foreign even to my own ears. I know not who this bound and wanton woman is—or where she came from. Now I know only each sensation, from the sting of the ropes at my wrists to the tickling of Anders’ hair at my wetness.

  He pauses for a moment, catching his breath and I finally breathe myself. I soon realise that this lull has proven only to render me even less prepared for the next onslaught and all at once he spreads me apart again, his hot tongue lapping at me. The sensation is almost too much and the idea of what is actually transpiring below me makes me giddy. His head dips slightly and I feel his tongue underneath me. Slowly he drags it north, pausing a few inches up and pushing it right inside me, between my lips. I inhale loudly at the exquisite pressure, wanting simultaneously to be rid of him and resisting the undeniable urge to push down onto the muscle even further. For one long heavenly moment he remains there, sliding his strong tongue in and out of me, lapping hungrily at my wetness.

  Gods only know what words are coming from me now, but I am certain there is nothing intelligible. The feeling is divine—a wave of sweet sensation, easing in and out of me. His tongue feels even better than his fingers had done. I have no concept of how long the pleasure lasts; longer than I could dare to hope and yet nowhere near long enough. Eventually he allows his tongue to slip upward instead of inside me again and it makes fleeting contact with my throbbing bud at the top of my lips. I yelp instinctively, unable to articulate the storm of emotions I am experiencing.

  He moves a fraction from me, resting his strong temple at my mound. “Valhalla, you are wonderful, Aurelie,” he whispers into my skin. I can hear the desire in his voice; the air around us seems thick with it.

  “I want you, my Lofðungr…” I say; my head still swimming with sensation.

  “And I will have you,” he replies, “but first I will lick and lap at you until you surrender to me completely.”

  Before I have time to process his meaning, his head is back down between my legs and I feel his tongue once again caressing the underside of me. He dips below, pushing inside of me and slowly using it to penetrate me over and over. I stand here, bound spread-eagled to the end of his bed, my naked flesh begging for more and more of his attention. As he laps at me, my hips roll forward. I am no longer able to exert any control over them. Reflexively I push against his face, loving the friction it offers me and I thrust myself against him like an untamed animal. He responds by grabbing the back of my ass with one hand, holding me and yet not stopping me from bucking against him.

  I am filled with a new and desperate need that begins to overwhelm me. I want more than anything for him to make contact with the pulsating little bud at the top of my lips. My every essence seems to be congregating there, needing stimulation like nothing else. I tip my hips, moving them downward so that the excited little bud makes contact with his skin. The feeling is so good that I call out; another rasping sound. As though he understands my needs, he moves his face upward. All of a sudden every lap of his tongue hits that sweet spot. He licks it mercilessly, giving me no rest and I fight against my binds in the darkness, feeling the growing tension in my body.

  By the time his hand rolls forward from my behind and one of those digits is slowly reinserted back into my wetness, I want to scream. I push against the finger with utter abandonment, relishing the friction of rolling my hips into his hot tongue at the same time. My entire existence is now only about this moment. I ride the digit over and over again, feeling him inside and over me all at once. Just when I am certain that I have nothing more to give, the tension in me peaks and energy like lightning rips through my exhausted body. The sensation is as though my womb itself is contracting inside my core, and I feel my sex quivering below me, clenching at the welcome digit inside it. I throw my head back in ecstasy, feeling the moisture falling from me, landing presumably on Anders’ hungry tongue, which has fallen back to join his finger.

  Hanging here lifeless, the sensations engulf me. I can no more speak than untie myself. Time passes and I feel Anders glide his finger out of me, before slowly lowering himself flat on the bed below me, recovering.

  “Too divine,” he says and I hear what sounds like him licking his lips below me. “And now, Aurelie, it is time…”

  He slips from the bed and I scan the gloom for him, watching as he retreats to his bedside. Quickly three more candles are lit, and I see Anders stalking back toward me. With some added light and the benefit of my elevated view, I finally get a proper look at him as he returns to me. I acknowledge his long hair and strong arms, plus of course those all too familiar blue eyes. He strides around the side of the bed, bare-chested and half-dressed at the waist, his now massive manhood straining from his body. It seems both hard and soft all at the same time and for a fleeting moment I wonder what it would taste like if I were to take it in my mouth. As it is I cannot take my eyes from the thing as he rounds the right post to which I am still bound. He stands behind me, the hair on his face now teasing my back.

  “I am going to cut you free, Aurelie, but first I will release your chain. Stay as still as you can.”

  I turn my head immediately to the right side and can just make out a small blade in his hand, which he places on the edge of the bed. He then produces a small iron key from the pocket in his breeches, and presents it to the lock at my right ankle. For the first time in hours the thing falls free from me and an instant later, the blade has sliced through the silken rope that had for so long secured the same ankle to the post. I am silent as he moves to my left ankle, trying hard to remain still as this bond too is quickly destroyed. In a moment Anders is back on top of the bed, standing in front of me. He holds the blade in his right hand and says nothing, although those eyes are loaded with his carnal intent. Moving against my body again, he holds the blade away, but uses the opportunity to stimulate his engorged manhood. I groan, feeling him rub it over my left thigh, and then making eye contact with him, I urge him on.

  “My Lofðungr, please!”

  He smiles. “I know I am teasing you,” he replies, that voice now thick with his own obvious desire. “Yet I do love having you bound here…”

  I moan, pushing my hips forward for his body. I am utterly exasperated, wanting him more than I have ever wanted anything.

  “Hold still,” he says, and in a matter of seconds my left arm is freed, followed quickly by my right.

  My limbs, now liberated, feel strangely heavy and out of my control. My arms come crashing down to my sides and I immediately falter, losing my balance. With lightning speed, he slips the blade back into his pocket and reaches for me. One strong muscular arm snakes ar
ound my waist whilst the other contains my shoulders. In a matter of a moment I am pulled into his hot body, pressed against his hardness.

  “I have you,” he exclaims. “And now, my little captive, I am truly going to have you.”

  I glance up at him, the left side of his face lit by the soft candlelight at the bedside and swallow hard as the realisation of what is about to happen dawns on me. Anders is going to lie with me, take my maidenhead, and use his amazing body to bring us both pleasure. Anders is going to make me his… I press my breasts against his torso, my nipples now so tight that they ache. My whole body is trembling as I appraise him.

  “Yes, my Lofðungr,” I plead, not recognising the woman I have become. “Make me yours.”

  He looks down at me, that hard stare penetrating me as his erection pulsates between our bodies below.

  “Kneel down on the bed,” he orders me.

  I do so without hesitation, allowing his right arm to support and guide me downward. My mouth passes his abdomen as I go, breathing in the soft hair there until I reach his groin. With his hand on my shoulder, I appraise the proud organ that greets me there. I take in its size and the masculine scent, making out the throbbing lines that run along its length.

  “Take me in your mouth, Aurelie.”

  Anders’ voice comes from over me, a sensual command. Without thinking I do as he asks, licking my lips as I draw my mouth over the top of the organ. Despite my assessment of its size and shape, the girth surprises me. It stretches my lips every bit as much as the fruit had done. Slowly I acquaint myself with its structure and taste. I allow the saltiness to overcome me, flicking my tongue over the edge before finally plucking the courage to move further down the shaft, taking his length into my throat.

  “Oh, gods…”

  I hear Anders above me, his groans spurring me on as I move onward down his length until I can no longer breathe. Slowly I retreat, moving up toward the end of him and then boldly plunging my way back down toward his hair. He moans loudly, one of his hands moving to the back of my head and guiding me up and down his length.