“Yes, Aurelie. You feel so good there.”
As his hand holds me in place, his hips begin to pick up their own pace, pushing his manhood in and then out of my mouth. I try to relax and breathe, permitting him to enjoy himself this way. I place my hands against his breech-covered thighs, the remainder of the silken rope still dangling from my wrists—a physical reminder of my bondage. Glancing up toward his face towering high above me, I try to make out his expression. It looks somewhere between ecstasy and torment and I revel in the wonder that I am somehow making him feel this way!
In one lithe movement he pulls himself from my mouth, leaving me on all fours, drooling from the sudden loss. Then he is right there, kneeling with me, his hot mouth back on mine. I taste my own excited flavour on his mouth and allow him inside me at once, wanting him to taste his own salty essence on my own lips. The kiss concludes and he presses his temple against my own forehead.
“That is too pleasurable, Aurelie,” he gasps. “Any more of that and I cannot possess you the way we both desire.”
His eyes drill into me, searching my face for understanding. “And I will possess you, my captive.”
I nod, placing my own soft kiss on his hot, full lips. They stretch into a smile at the unprompted contact.
“Lie down,” he says, rather too severely as though he is reminding himself who is master.
I scramble backward against the soft material of the bed below me. Looking up, I am just in time to see Anders’ descent onto me. He presses himself against my naked flesh, a soft groan leaving his mouth as though he cannot believe the sensation. I watch him as if I am in a dream, in awe of his muscular shoulders and arms as they reach for me. Slowly those large palms take each of my hands and slide them north, above our heads. At the same time, his legs move between us, spreading my thighs open. I am his for the taking.
He pauses, rising up onto his knees. I remain passive as he intended, my arms laced obediently over my head, watching him watching me. All the while his massive manhood stands proudly to attention between us. Anders’ eyes burn into me, as though they cannot absorb the sight that they behold. They devour the look of my rounded bosom rising and falling with my exaggerated breathing, and the curve of my belly leading down to my open wetness. I take a deep breath, eyeing him in return, willing him to consume me.
“My Lofðungr?” I pant, my voice full of desperation.
He smiles, his face lit by the candles to my left as he moves back over my body. That strong right arm rises north to meet my wrists, holding them firmly in place as he rests on his left elbow. The sensation of my nipples grazing against his chest maddens me, reigniting the flames that Anders had earlier quelled with his tongue. Instinctively I roll my hips forward to meet his body, taunting him. In a flash he positions the head of his manhood at my wet, needy entrance, pressing against me. I whimper at the contact, wanting more.
“Yes,” I whisper, gazing up at his face, which is now just a few inches above me.
I push forward brazenly, asserting my desire for him and he willingly complies. I feel him push inside me, probably no more than an inch or so and yet the fullness is overwhelming.
“Oh!” I gasp, trying to move reflexively beneath him.
From over my head, his hand holds me down, pinioning me easily into the bedding. The quiet authority of his body arouses me even more, allowing him to slide a further few inches within me.
“Relax and open for me,” he murmurs, again pressing his temple into my forehead.
Relishing the contact between us, I concentrate on doing as he asks, taking deep breaths beneath him and willing him more deeply into me. Slowly he presses himself into my wet, slippery core, filling and stretching me more with every effort. The sheer size of him takes some getting used to, but the evidence of my desire for him is clear. I am so very wet, the sound of my arousal obvious as he slowly withdraws from me.
“Aurelie…”
His voice sounds pained as he slams back inside me. I moan out loud at the intrusion, feeling the pain and the pleasure simultaneously. My hips rise to meet him at the next thrust, pressing my greedy little nub into his hot flesh. The fleeting contact is divine, making his manhood feel even better as it slides back inside me. Anders moves in and out of me, our bodies intertwined in this maddening dance of pleasure. His head falls into the nape of my neck, deep groans coming from him as I lie there, held down and invaded again and again by this captivating Viking. The knowledge that I am powerless to stop his invasion of my body serves only to fuel my growing fervour and soon I am panting beneath him. I am reminded of his earlier words to me about the rewards of submission and for the first time I understand a little of what he had meant.
Sensing my excitement, he raises his head and again looks into my eyes. “Do you like me taking what is mine, my captive?”
“Yes, my Lofðungr!” I cry, leaning upward and kissing the edge of his beard.
“You like being taken this way?” he asks again, pressing the point as he does when it serves only to stimulate us further.
“Yes,” I pant, loving each new drive into me from below.
“Good,” he purrs from over me. “Then let’s try one more thing…”
He pulls from me, rising to his knees in the shadows.
“Onto all fours,” he commands, and without thinking I climb up and over as he desires.
He is between my legs and over me in an instant, his heat pressing into my body. Those muscle-clad arms join my own pressing into the bed, and he pushes my thighs apart firmly with his knees.
“Open,” he reminds me. “This will be much more intense, Aurelie, so remember to relax and breathe…”
I tense at his words, but even as I do I feel him pressing hard against me from behind. He finds my open channel and eases himself down inside. This time I cry out loud at the tenderness of the deep penetration. If he had seemed large before, then Anders feels like a monster this way.
“I can’t take all of you!” I cry into the bedding, feeling as though he is sure to split me in half.
“Shhh,” he says, ceasing movement at once and kissing the back of my neck. “You can and you will. Just relax and take me in… Breathe, Aurelie.”
I do as he suggests and inhale deeply. He joins me, kissing me again as he resumes his possession of me.
“That’s it; do you feel me inside you, owning and commanding your body?”
“Yes,” I murmur, “you’re so deep inside me, my Lofðungr.”
He laughs, a soft sound that tickles the side of my neck. “Yes, but there is much more of you to claim, Aurelie. Push back against me and see.”
Warily I do as he suggests, moving my behind back and onto his hardness. The feeling is intense as I feel him prising me apart, and yet I am calmed by being temporarily in control of the situation.
“Yes,” he murmurs from behind me, “that’s it, Aurelie—you have nearly all of me now.”
His left hand sweeps underneath me and claws for my breasts, finding my right nipple and tugging it ruthlessly. I groan at this new, sweet sensation, welcoming the extra surrender I feel as he samples all of me at once.
“Now I am going to thrust into you again,” he says from behind me. “I will take you, Aurelie and claim you as mine once and for all.”
With that I feel his weight shift over me and his manhood dominates me once again, leaving my open thighs no way to prevent his hardness from penetrating me as he chooses. I fall forward, the pressure on my tired arms just too much, and land on my face, my ass wonderfully exposed behind me. He pounds into me, ignoring the throaty noises escaping my mouth, and presses deeper and deeper into my virgin territory. I feel as though I might burst from the downright ignominy of the position, but still I remain, hips pushed back, ready to receive him once more. I am wholly surrendered to the dominance of my captor, allowing him to take my virginity as he had also claimed my freedom.
Wordlessly Anders’ body moves forward, cocooning me again with his arms and tor
so. I feel his body tense and stiffen around me and sense that the climax of his pleasure may be close. I will him toward it, wanting him to feel as fulfilled as he had made me earlier.
“Oh, Aurelie,” he mumbles into my hair. “You feel so damn good and yet I want you to taste me, the way I tasted you.”
I gasp as he withdraws in one smooth action, amazed by how empty I am left feeling without him inside me. He moves my left arm, guiding me around and back onto my knees to receive his now bulging penis. My mouth is open for him before he even instructs it, and he pushes inside gladly.
He is much, much bigger than before and I choke against him as he makes long thrusts into my throat. I can taste myself all over him and I marvel at his complete possession of me. Tears swill in my eyes as he pushes back inside my mouth and yet I do my best to remain passive and open to his need. After a moment his hands find their way into my tangled hair, holding me firmly in place as he makes short, insistent thrusts. All at once he lets out the deepest, most guttural groan and my throat is flooded with the hot fluid that pumps from him. He relaxes his grip and I draw backward, shocked by the new sensation. Some fluid falls into the space between us, but as I catch my breath I swallow what remains in my mouth, allowing its hot saltiness to coat the back of my throat. I look up to his face, seeing the satisfaction there. Cocking his head, he smiles and then winks at me.
“Suck me again, Aurelie. Clean me with your mouth.”
After everything that has taken place between us, I am amazed to find that I flush at this suggestion, but obligingly I lean forward, taking his still erect manhood back into my mouth and sucking it dry in front of him. What I realise should be a humiliating deed is now a pleasurable one, and I actually enjoy the look on his face as I gaze up at him. In that moment I appreciate just how much he wants me and a strange feeling of empowerment falls over me.
He strokes the side of my face and slowly draws me away from his groin, pulling me up onto my knees to meet his kiss. Our mouths find each other, the wetness of each mingling with the other as our tongues dance together. After a moment, Anders pulls back, but keeps one hand in my hair, holding me in place.
“Well, well, my lady of Donrose,” he purrs, raising that blond brow at me. “How does it feel to have finally been conquered?”
His tone is soft and washes over me despite his teasing. I gaze back up into those big Viking eyes as I answer, unable to hide the swell of desire that, even now, presents itself between us.
“It feels wonderful, my Lofðungr…”
Chapter Thirteen: Torment
The sounds of shouting from outside of the pavilion rouse me. My head, foggy with sleep, is aware of the noise and yet cannot find the will to awaken. I stretch beneath the soft bedding and am suddenly aware of the deep tenderness between my thighs. Thoughts of the previous day fly back to me, filling my mind and awakening every sensation. Memories of the battle, my capture, my spankings, and Anders’ eventual domination of me swell inside me, and my eyes fly open.
The space next to me is vacant, causing a new wave of anxiety to rush through my body. Where is Anders? I am certain we had fallen asleep together. I sit up in the bed abruptly, assessing the space around me and it’s then that I see Magnus sitting at Anders’ desk, watching me. I flush at once, pulling the bedding up over my exposed breasts.
“Good ‘morrow, my lady,” he says, smiling. “I was wondering when you were going to wake.”
Startled by his unexpected presence, I know not what to say. I search my mind for the last time Magnus would have seen me. Mortified, I recall it was probably over Anders’ lap the previous night when I was rather unceremoniously spanked for my failure as a table. I look up at him, relaxed in the chair and am riled by how vulnerable I have become in the last day. This man—who would have willingly murdered me—has now seen my naked humiliation and no doubt is aware that Anders has well and truly mastered me since. My pride resurfaces from wherever it has been hiding.
“Where is the prince?” I ask indignantly. To my utter frustration this question provokes only a broader grin on his weathered face.
“My Lord had to rise early this morning. There is urgent business that requires his attention. He asked that I—keep you company—until his return.”
There is a nefarious look in his eye as the words slip from his mouth and I see him eyeing my curves beneath the bedding. I clutch the sheet closer to my bosom, shifting uncomfortably in the bed.
He ascends from the chair and strides toward the side of the bed where I am seated.
“Time to rise,” he says almost triumphantly as he stands over me. “I have instructions that you are to be bathed and tended to in my Lofðungr’s absence.”
I blanch at this knowledge, self-conscious of my nudity despite the knowledge that Magnus has very well seen every inch of me already. Hesitating, I glance up at him and throw myself at his pity.
“I have nothing to wear,” I mumble, my face reddening further as I speak.
He laughs, a deep hearty sound. “No matter,” he says, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You are my Lofðungr’s captive and as such require no clothing until he deems it a requirement. Now up, out of that bed, or I will spank your pretty behind! I have leave to, you know?”
Making eye contact with him quickly, I realise that he means it, and with reluctance I slide my legs from the soft, warm bedding. I am sad to leave both their heat and protection. Slowly I stand, allowing the remaining bedding to fall from my breasts and find myself next to his giant frame. He smiles down at me, a knowing look in his eyes.
“That’s more like it,” he says, placing a finger under my chin and forcing me to look in his direction. “Remember your place; obedience is what is required from you.”
I look away, too embarrassed to meet his smug gaze.
“Now, since you are restrained in no way, I expect your complete compliance. Any sign of insubordination will be met with punishment. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
I feel bizarrely bereft. I miss Anders beyond just the ache between my legs, and wish he were here instead of this teasing marauder.
“I am your master in my Lofðungr’s absence, and you will refer to me as Sire.”
I look to him, rebellion burning in my eyes, but bite down the defiance, knowing where it will get me. “Yes, Sire,” I sigh, watching his satisfied grin at my forced subservience.
“Now, kneel in the centre of the room, hands behind your head. I will arrange your bath.”
Slowly I pad forward to where Magnus indicates and drop to my knees before positioning my arms as requested. The muscles, still tired from yesterday, scream at me in protest.
“Good,” he says, striding to where the heavy drapes separate Anders’ privacy. He pulls back one of them and shouts a command into the space beyond. I hear a servant acknowledging him from the distance. Happy, he turns his attention back to me as I kneel naked in the middle of the room.
“You are my Lofðungr’s property,” he calls, approaching me again. “Hold yourself up—be proud! I want to see those perky tits standing to attention!”
I recoil at his comment, but straighten my posture immediately, keen to placate him until Anders’ return. He paces behind me, circling my body a few times.
“Better,” he muses, “but still sloppy…”
He moves behind me and lowers himself to my height, assessing my body. I watch him from my peripheral vision, feeling my arms tremble.
“Straighter!” he barks and swats my ass hard as he rises and moves back behind me. “Stick out that bosom—come on—let me see!”
My face burns with ignominy at his words. He has no right to treat me this way—I belong to Anders, and not to this man! And yet I know I have no choice but to obey or face the consequences. I push my breasts out as much as I can as he rounds the circle to stand before me. He considers me in silence for a moment before leaning forward and toward me.
“I said to attention,” he says, emphasizi
ng the last two words as he reaches for my left breast. He fondles it in his large palm, groping at me. To my horror the nipple buds in the centre of his palm, my body yet again ignoring the horror I should feel and betraying my arousal instead. I watch, frozen to the spot as he turns his attention to the right breast, this time pulling hard on the nipple until it tightens into a hard knot for him.
He smiles, self-assured about his power over me. “Good,” he says “Now open your legs wider, the way my Lofðungr likes them to be.”
I do so with reluctance, spreading my thighs and the folds of my moist and tender sex. Seemingly satisfied, he strolls backward and finds the chair in which he was earlier seated. He collects it with ease and brings it back down just in front of me. Seating himself, he leans forward, tugging at both nipples this time. I pant, feeling the warm tingle between my legs rising as it had done yesterday. Shamefully I realise that I like his abuse of me.
“Stay exactly this way until you are ready to be bathed,” he says, smiling again as he fondles my right breast, aware that there is nothing I can do to stop him. “You have delectable breasts.”
I say nothing, trying not to make eye contact with him and ignoring the pain in my shoulders. For several long moments we remain this way. Magnus torments my breasts at will, pulling and groping them with his strong hands. I remain as still as I can, keeping my chest pushed out the way he had commanded. From this distance I can see the excitement stirring in his groin and I wonder how it would feel to be ravaged by him. The idea fills me with a new burning shame and I wonder if he knows what I am thinking as he again uses both hands to tug at my elongated buds.
At some point Brigida appears from the drapes in the corner. I see her approaching from the corner of my eye, a strange combination of humiliation and envy stirring at the sight of her. Magnus rises from his chair and greets her with a warm smile.
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