While there wasn’t a great need for crew, there was a need for privacy. He hardly wanted to keep her confined in his quarters until they arrived in Avalon, nor did he want her to have to keep quiet, not when her moans and cries were so delicious.
What he was doing now was building the anticipation, and, more mundanely, waiting for soup to heat for Freya…and plotting the next step of their sensual journey. He wanted to have her in the water, have his mermaid’s arms around him in the waves. He’d take her hunting to slake her frustration, make this easier on her. But he had the time he wanted to build real anticipation within her, push her limits for longer than a night.
He ignored another roar. He was having to suppress her powers without the aid of human metal. But her frustration…he could feel that very intimately through their bond, and it frustrated him, too. When he could ignore his desires no longer, he went to her, far sooner than he had thought he would.
He paused inside the doorway of his captain’s quarters to admire his exotic pet. Her pale flesh was bare, save for her collar and the cause of her torment—the tightly locked belt. Her teeth were bared, every muscle taut as she gazed out at him angrily, helplessly from behind the bars of the cage.
He decided now would be a fine time to make her talk, see if she might concentrate. “Answer me this. Before you had your powers, I assumed you gave yourself pleasure. How many times a day?”
She scowled at his question. “I’m very bad at counting. It depends upon the day.” Her face flushed red. “If it snowed and I spent most of the day on my own with my scrolls, well, a lot. Some days, two or three times, or five.”
She’d keep up with him nicely then. “Then this must be very difficult for you.”
“How…how are you so calm, Master?” She was panting, her hips gyrating in their little prison.
He settled on the window seat, leaning his back against the glass to enjoy the spectacle she provided. “How badly did you want me to come back while you waited here, unable to do a thing?”
“Didn’t my screams give you any sort of clue?” She snarled, little fangs catching the sunlight.
He gave her a slow nod, taking in her angry countenance, the desperation in her eyes…and her impertinence. “What is it like to need someone and have them nowhere near?”
Her face softened and she blinked. “You…need me?”
“You fool, of course I do. I thought I’d made that clear many times. Take all that you feel now and imagine me in danger, you too far away to do anything easily. That was how I felt when I’d discovered where you’d gone. I could not concentrate on anything but you.” His gaze was on her face now. Not her body.
Regret filled her eyes. She lowered her head behind the gilded bars. “Master…I…”
“It isn’t like that with other people. When it comes to you being in danger, it’s crippling. I know you came back. I know you defeated Mimir, but when you do things like this, when we do things like this, let’s do them together. Partners, as you said.” He crossed the cabin, opened the front of the cage, and stroked the hair from her face, placing it behind the winged band. She wiggled her hips in anticipation of him unlocking her. “Oh, no. I didn’t say your punishment was over. I didn’t stay here and worry until you returned. You do not get to either.”
She gave a sobbing moan as he lifted her from her prison. He stood her in the large patch of sunlight coming through the large window. He made short work of connecting a chain with a leather handle to her collar.
****
When he gave the lead a downwards tug, Freya lowered herself to her hands and knees, legs apart and ass raised. Try as she might, she could not still her hips. She closed her eyes, trying to think of anything but how his fingers would feel inside her, how his cock would feel.
She blinked when the winged band was removed from her head. Her hair tickled her hot cheeks. It was a feeling of deep intimacy when the soft bristles of a brush sifted through her tresses. She had never imagined Siegfried doing such a thing.
She could smell the sea, salt, and woodsy aromas of his body mingled with sweat and desire as he tied her hair into two tails, one on either side of her head. She tried to remain still through these tender ministrations, but she cried out her need. It was more difficult with him so close.
She cried out her relief when the cool metal panties slid away, replaced by his fingers. She stayed on her hands and knees, working her hips against his fingers. His cock nudged her hip. His free hand stroked her breast while he whispered husky words against her ear. “Mmm, Frey…So hot. So hungry.”
But he had not removed the salve. There was no release coming, only further torment. She could hardly care. She just didn’t want him to—
He removed his hands and locked her away in the metal device again. He rose, standing over her, fully clothed.
He gave the lead a gentle pull, and she rose to follow him. She realized then there was a new level of trust between them, she realized, if he were taking this step. It meant he was certain she’d go along with him. She’d told him as much, hadn’t she?
He stopped at the door to his cabin. He opened it, the light stunning her eyes. Was he bringing her out like this in front of his men? No, he couldn’t. Siegfried would never do that. He stepped out first, then waited. Without waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light, she followed him.
She heard him take a deep breath, sensed his uncertainty through their bond. The uncertainty was replaced with relief and other strong emotions that she wouldn’t want to put a name to just yet. She’d forgotten about their bond, so swamped had she been in her own torment. She rested her head. His hand rested on the top of her head, as if she were a loyal pet.
“It occurred to me,” he said at last, “that being fey, I haven’t such a need for a crew. Not when I’m not planning on scuttling ships. Not when I’d rather plan torments for my helpless slave. We’ll need your water magic if there’s a leak. My magic can repair torn sails. Balder had purchased enchantments to keep bugs and barnacles from the ship. So, it can be just us.” There was a smile in his voice, a smug satisfaction, confidence. “But there is still work to be done. When you went to Mimir, I had to come find you. I had to function to get to you. So you are going to function, despite your frustrations. The decks need to be washed. I will see to the sail repairs.”
This was to be her test? To work, to accomplish something in spite of the torment?
He rose and led Freya to a pile of stones. “Use these to scrub the decks. Call water over the side with your magic when you need it. But do not sink our ship.”
Suddenly, given the scope of her work, the ship seemed so much larger.
****
Siegfried sat amidst the sails, watching Freya scour the decks. Sweat trickled along her ass and thighs as the muscles tightened with her efforts. He planned to teach her as much as he could about life aboard ship, whatever she’d need to know with the two of them being fey. This was his home—not Avalon or Asgard. This was where he planned for them to spend most of their time in their new lives. It also afforded them valuable privacy.
With Freya’s water magic, she could already steer the ship. She could calm rough seas. And he trusted her. Yes, her training would expand. He’d train her in some of the more mundane chores so she might relate to the other sailors who’d had to do them. He sighed. He was also going to have to train her in some of the terminology. There was no way he was going to have a pirate aboard his ship who called it a boat.
He leapt from the sails, made a trip to his quarters, and went to her again. She had finished a good portion of the decks. When she saw him, she stopped to stare at the offered water. He rinsed her with an extra skin of water, watching it sluice over her taut muscles. While she dried in the sun, he fed her bites of salmon and brushed her hair.
“Lean against the rails,” he whispered against the pale whorl of her ear.
She grinned saucily at him over her shoulder and placed her hands upon the polished wood. “Some
one’s frisky.”
She gasped as he smoothed a lubricating salve between her buttocks. She trembled but did not move away.
He knelt behind her and freed his cock from the lacings of his trousers. He nudged her ass cheeks apart with his length. He edged his cock into the tight orifice. He gritted his teeth, the heat of her enveloping him. He had to hold off on coming, at least a little longer, long enough to enjoy this new experience with her.
He began to move, rocking his hips in gentle motions against her. “Are you comfortable?”
Wide eyes looked over her shoulder at him. She gave him a nod.
“I am going to stay still. I want you to grind against me, work that ass. I want you to demonstrate how badly you want me.”
****
Freya felt stretched to capacity by the thick shaft impaling her. Oh, that pleasure-pain, the vulnerability of him deep within her, the fabric of his trousers abrading the tender flesh of her backside.
His words gave her hope. She would silently demonstrate her desire—no, her need—and this torment would end.
“I’m waiting.” The riding crop flicked against the underside of her bottom. “Don’t slack in your work, little slave.”
She worked her hips, back and forth, bracing herself with her knees on the newly-cleaned decks. His hands grasped onto the twin tails of her hair to steady himself. Her rewards were his grunts and groans. Somehow, he was not thrusting back. She sensed he enjoyed exercising his restraint, as well as watching her work for him.
“Faster.” His order was punctuated with another fiery lick of the riding crop.
She was in that same bowed position he had commanded in the wood, only now her supplication was on a new level, more intimate than before. She churned her hips, brow against the smooth decks.
His cock pulsed softly before jerking. His hands tightened on her tails. Finally, he gave into the urge to thrust hard into her. She bit her lip as he growled his release before collapsing atop of her, resting his head between her shoulder blades.
When his heart had stilled, he rose, and she looked at him over her shoulder, eagerly awaiting her release. He chuckled and gave her pussy a pat over the metal device. “You’ve done well. But there is still more work to be done.”
****
They were halfway through the next day when he decided to free her little snatch. The decks were clean, and she was again covered in sweat. Hope sparkled in her dark eyes as he touched the metal underwear. He knelt between her thighs, examining her pussy.
“You have been hungry for me,” he murmured. “All this desire, building, locked up until I wish it.” She gasped then whimpered. He grazed a finger along the swollen flesh between her legs. She would have tumbled backward had he not caught her. He laid her beneath him and rested on his fists above her.
He groaned, resting his head upon her shoulder. Gods, his cock was already hard for her. He tore the lacings on his breeches and rammed himself home. Her thighs were damp around his, not only with sweat. Her heat dripped onto his aching balls.
It dimly occurred to him that he hadn’t rinsed any of the salve from her.
He pulled out, panting. It had been so difficult to remove his cock from her.
“Master?” she asked, the sky darkening above them. “What the hell are you doing?”
He didn’t want to wait to have to clean her. He wanted her now. He tossed her over his shoulder, ran across the decks, and threw them both into the sea. Freya’s mouth melded with his as the brine surged around them, dark with the storm brewing above.
Her legs circled his hips, and he slammed his cock into her pussy. They both came, lightning flashing above.
“Master?” she said, holding him against her. He realized that her tail was wrapped around him. She’d shifted as soon as they’d finished.
“Aye, Freya?”
“You know, I was just starting to think, you’d hardly punished me enough.”
“What?” He stared at her in shock, her hair free of its bindings and billowing around them.
“If I had to do that all over again, I would have still gone back to Mimir.” She gave him that silly smile, made all the more endearing by her fangs. “But I would take you with me.”
Siegfried gathered her hair at her nape and brought her face to his, kissing her again, holding her in place until he was finished. “I never said your punishment was over. I only gave us both a reprieve.”
****
Avalon stole Freya’s breath away as she stood beside Siegfried at the helm of the River Queen. It was nestled like a green jewel atop the brilliant sea green water. The tops of small grass-topped huts could be seen amongst the palms. As they neared, scores of flying fish, their silver scales gleaming in the bright sun, escorted their ship.
Siegfried squeezed her shoulder. She wouldn’t be naked on her knees today, helping him with shipboard—that was shipboard, not boatboard—tasks. She’d miss the rounds of loving, all his delicious torments.
The white sands seemed to glow. Tall palms with long fronds at the top reached toward the cloudless sky. Mists surrounded the isle, and despite the lack of clouds, Freya would guess it had rained. A bright rainbow arced over the mountainous isle. Jewel-like flowers in every color imaginable peeked from the lush foliage.
When the ship had docked, they made their way along a path of blue tile, surrounded by all sorts of fountains. She restrained herself from drinking of the fountains, for though some offered water, others offered wine, mead, or ale. The ale smelled very good. It had been too long since she’d had any. Siegfried had wished her to stay well-hydrated during their voyage.
Flowers floated atop the surface of the wine fountains. Petals in all sorts of colors. What would that wine taste like? She giggled when she saw Siegfried was also ogling the wine fountains.
The people here moved about their homes and shops happily. They cast curious glances at Freya and Siegfried. Children ran through the shell-covered streets, their parents shouting to them. These people were all humans…the sacrifices. Yet, no one seemed to be suffering here.
Nestled into the side of a mountain was a palace that appeared to be carved of crystal, shimmering purple in the sunlight. She did not know if it was crystal or some fey equivalent of it, much like the difference between fey metal and human metal. Whatever it was, it was beautiful. Spires soared into the azure sky, casting glittering light upon the palms. The grand doors of silver were pulled aside by two men in silver and royal blue.
But the men never opened the doors all the way. The doors were kicked open, smashed. Siegfried pulled Freya aside, shielding her with his body as chunks of intricately carved metal whizzed above their heads. A loincloth-wearing man with a long, white blond beard trailing behind him flew through the air, shining spear blazing in the sunlight. The two servants poked their ashen faces from nearby shrubs covered in orange flowers with thick, waxy petals.
“Idiot,” shouted a familiar voice from inside. “This is Avalon—not Asgard.”
Freya was suddenly pulled from beneath Siegfried and swung through the air. She was face-to-face with the man’s single blue eye.
“Who won the Jotun War? Freya. Who killed Mimir? Freya,” the bearded man chanted as he whirled, holding her out from him. “Who took down that big, annoying tree? Freya. Who’s Asgard’s greatest war hero next to Woden? Freya.” He set her down and Siegfried steadied her. She was so dizzy and this man was so obnoxious. Who did weird chants like that?
Siegfried caught her when the man released her. “That is Woden, Freya,” he said darkly.
“Why aren’t you happy?” Woden asked. “What can we do to fix that? Yes, Freya, I am your father. Your very proud father.”
She pointed her trident at Woden before he even thought of spinning her again. “Let me see, you could have stopped by any time I was with the Remi. I would’ve actually been happyish, sort of, to see you if you appeared when I was being chased by Druid assassins. You could have made an appearance when I was being Ma
rked. Or how about while I was fighting off Vercingetorix’s men?”
Woden looked down at the trident, then continued to grin broadly at his daughter. “The ones you made explode? Because only Woden’s mighty seed can make men explode. Now you have tales, great tales of epic battles to stun the fabled warriors of the mighty Aesir. And, of course, to make lesser men piss themselves.” Pride shone in his blue eye. “My daughter.”
A delicate throat clearing drew Freya’s attention. Her mother glided down the staircase. She wore an irritated frown that turned into a smile as she neared Freya. “Daughter, I’m so glad you are well.” Hecate embraced Freya in a hug that smelled of things like night—a spicy aroma mingling with night-blooming flowers.
“Siegfried, again,” Woden said with a frown, seemingly just noticing Freya’s lover. “I’ve heard of what you did to the Jotuns. I never knew such a silly thing as panpipe playing could be that powerful. I’ve always preferred a spear myself.” He tapped Gungnir on the shell path. “A man needs a large weapon. Panpipes are so…pathetically minuscule.”
“A weapon is only as good as its purpose,” Siegfried said, meeting Woden’s gaze. “Panpipes they may be, but at least they’re not just ornamentation.”
“What are you implying, faun?” Woden said, raising his spear.
Freya looked from Siegfried’s Panpipes to Gungnir to her trident. “My trident is bigger than both of your weapons.”
“The obvious implication she is making,” Hecate said, louder than was necessary, “is that you sat in Valhalla, drunk in a loincloth, while your daughter was in no small amount of danger. All you’ve done is send birds.”
Woden grabbed Freya’s shoulders. “Rest assured, daughter mine, that I shall have Loki’s head, mount it on a pike outside of Sessrumnir—the hall I’m building for you. We’ll march upon Jotunheim together. I’ve already been to Jotunheim, gathered the skulls for Sessrumnir’s fence.” He patted Freya’s head, then turned to Siegfried. “What are you still doing here, faun? I figured this nonsense would have ended. Hecate, you said the Greeks are gone for now.”
Siren Slave Page 36