Vanquishing A Viking

by Nancy Dillman

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “I am dangerous.”

  Yes, he was. One more smoldering gaze and he’d knock down what was left of her defenses.

  “But I will not hurt you. Not deliberately.”

  “You mean you might hurt me accidentally?”

  He tilted his head. “As I said, I am larger than average.”

  Esme pushed her tankard toward him. “More mead, please.”

  He refilled it.

  “Thanks.” She gulped down more of the relaxing liquid even though her brain was getting way past fuzzy. But that was the point, right? “Why aren’t you married?” she blurted out. “Aren’t most men your age married?”

  He took a deep drink of the mead, and his expression darkened. “I was married, once, but I don’t wish to talk about it.” The strain in his eyes warned her to back off.

  “Okay. I won’t press. I guess it’s none of my business really.”

  “That is correct.” He shifted his weight on the bed. “And you? Was your husband captured with you?”

  “I have no husband.”

  He raised an eyebrow and smiled, apparently pleased with her answer. “Then you’re a virgin?”

  Don’t you wish. "Um, no. Why do you ask?"

  "You said you didn't have much experience."

  "Ah, that's true. I've not had many lovers."

  He studied her. "Good."

  "Good? Why is that good?"

  "You will be trainable."

  "You make me sound like a pet monkey."

  He laughed. "Hardly that."

  She swigged some more mead, which was tasting better and better with each gulp. She felt so content, lying on the comfy bed, the tankard in her lap, and a gorgeous, half-naked Viking staring at her like she was his next snack.

  “You have beautiful eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?” Man, she was tipsy.

  He nodded.

  “Silly me. Of course they have.” Giggling like a twelve-year old, she tugged on the collar of her sweater. “Is it me or is it getting warm in here?”

  His eyes gleamed. “Yes, it is quite warm. Why don’t you remove your tunic. You’ll feel more comfortable.”

  She waggled her finger at him. “Ooh, you bad boy. I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “Then do it. I want to see your body.” He caressed his tankard. “I want to see your breasts, Esme. Show them to me.” His voice was as smooth as the mead and just as intoxicating. He leaned toward her. “They belong to me now. I have a right to see them and touch them.” He ran his tongue over his lips like a hungry wolf. “I want to lick you and suckle you until you beg me to stop.”

  Oh, mama! Imagining his mouth on her breasts, her insides melted into a puddle of seething desire. Her rock-hard nipples strained against her black bra, the texture of the lace cups creating an exquisite friction that pushed her pussy into ‘ready’ mode.

  “Show me,” he whispered.

  Scared and excited at the same time, her pulse sped up. The idea of stripping before an enraptured Stein shot a fierce spiral of pleasure up her spine. Still she hesitated. What if he didn’t like what he saw?

  “I’m waiting,” he said, his voice a husky blend of smoke and fire.

  What the heck. Resistance was futile anyway, and she wanted his mouth on her so very much. Besides, this time-travel stuff couldn’t be real anyway. Any minute now she’d probably wake up in a hospital room or a cell with padded walls, so she might as well enjoy the thrill of taking her clothes off before a complete stranger. A gorgeous, virile Viking, who desired her.

  “Okay. Here goes.” Balancing on her knees, she lifted the hem of her sweater with both hands. Jolts of electricity raced through her as she slowly pulled it up over her head like a practiced stripper. “Enjoy the show.”

  *****

  She was finally behaving as a woman should, ready and eager to reveal her body to him. It was high time. The scent of her arousal had already stiffened his cock harder than a pike.

  He set both tankards on the table and settled into the soft mattress to savor every moment of her revelation. As she lifted her tunic, he riveted his gaze on her little belly button and flat stomach, then followed the rising tunic, over her smooth, pale flesh, to the....infernal black harness that confined her breasts.

  “Stop!” He thrust his finger at it. “What is that thing?”

  She halted in mid-lift. “It’s called a ‘bra.’”

  “A bra,” he repeated. “What does it do?”

  “It supports a woman’s breasts so they don’t bounce around, and it covers up her nipples so they don’t show through her clothes.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand. Why would you cover them up? Are you ashamed for some reason?”

  She lowered her tunic. “No. In fact, I like my breasts, but where I come from women are more modest about their bodies.”

  “A beautiful woman should be proud of her body. I forbid you to wear it.”

  “But...”

  “Remove your tunic. Completely.”

  She drew it up over her head, stretching her long torso, and tossed the garment on the floor. “There.”

  He plucked his dagger off the table and, before she could react, sliced the ugly black thing open.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, throwing her arms across her chest.

  “I want to see what’s mine. Take that ugly thing off.”

  She hesitated, then shrugged off the severed remains of her ‘bra.’ “Are they good enough for you?”

  He didn’t like her sarcastic tone, but he was too mesmerized by her swaying breasts to verbally chastise her. He pursed his lips and exhaled slowly, his gaze glued to her pebbled nipples. She was magnificent.

  “Remove the rest of your clothing.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” She moved her hands to the front of her odd trousers. “Your wish is my command.”

  “Do not mock me, Esme.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Sorry. I’m not used to being ordered around.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” He waved his hand at her. “Go on.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, yeah.” She undid the button at her waist and pulled a small metal tab that opened the strange closure of her trousers. He had never seen clothes like these anywhere, not in Ireland or the far reaches of Scotland.

  “Here we go.” Smiling like a shy, young girl, she wriggled them over her lush hips and pushed them to her knees.

  Although the breathtaking view was partially obscured by yet another peculiar black garment, he nearly broke into a sweat as he took in the smooth, pale skin of her abdomen and the rounded globes of her backside. He shifted his weight on the mattress, trying to relieve the pressure building in his balls.

  “Why do you have no hair on your legs or under your arms?”

  “It’s the custom where I’m from.”

  He touched the nearly transparent fabric of the garment that encased her sex. “And what is this?”

  “It’s my thong.” She looked at him through her dark lashes. “Do you like it?”

  He swallowed hard. “That is what it’s called? A ‘thong?’ What purpose does it serve?” He cupped her rear cheek and squeezed. “It certainly is not meant to keep you warm.”

  “No, it isn’t.” She gently removed his hand. “I don’t have a good answer for you. It’s just the custom where I’m from. It’s a kind of protection, I guess.”

  “From what? It’s too flimsy to prevent a man from gaining entry. It’s just a piece of thin cloth.”

  “Um, yes.” She flopped on her back and pushed off her trousers with one foot, flinging them to the floor to join the rest of her peculiar clothing. “Now what?”

  She stretched out before him, her white flesh glowing in the candlelight, a temptress ripe for the taking. He would etch into his memory each line and curve of her body, every hill and dale. If someday the gods granted him an honorable death on the field of battle, he would remember this momen
t with utter clarity and die a happy man.

  *****

  Esme lay on the rough homespun sheets like a porno star flaunting her wares, and stared at the man who would soon be her lover. She felt sexy and powerful, like a seasoned courtesan whose blazing beauty reduced men to wide-eyed zombies.

  Okay, she was being a bit melodramatic, but she did feel incredibly desirable. From the rapturous look on Stein’s face, he thought so too. Man, she was turned on. A delightful pressure had blossomed between her legs, intensifying into an insistent pulse that ached for his touch.

  “What happens now?” she asked again, her tone slightly challenging. “Do you just take me, roll over and go to sleep?”

  “No.” His expression was as stormy as a Minnesota twister. Not angry, just intense and focused and full of seething lust. He moved toward her in slow motion, like a powerful jaguar stalking its prey. “Come to me.”

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, her pussy clenching in an anticipatory spasm.

  His hands moved like greased lightning, pulling her to him and forcing her body against his. She squirmed in his arms, an instinctive response to his overwhelming strength, but there was no way to escape the unyielding mass of his muscular body or the mammoth erection pressed into her abdomen.

  He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. “You must learn to trust me.”

  His woodsy, musky scent filled her head. “I’ll try,” she said in a small voice, wanting to trust him...wanting him.

  His fingers dusted her cheek, then traveled south, over her chin, down to the hollow of her neck. “I will never hurt you, Esme.” They moved farther down, to the rise of her breast. “I will be gentle.” He found her nipple and toyed with it, sending spikes of searing heat to her core and escalating the sweet throbbing between her legs. She melted like butter in his big, warm hands.

  He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her close until their lips were nearly touching. Staring at his sensuous, inviting lower lip, she fought the urge to kiss him.

  He may not be her enemy, but he was an overpowering male about to have his way, with or without her consent. She should protest, shouldn’t she? Oh, but those lips, those eyes, that savage scar, that body...oh, Lord, everything about him made her wet with desire.

  “Esme...” His mouth hovered over hers for a nanosecond before descending in a scorching kiss she felt all the way to her toes. His tongue pushed its way between her lips, forcefully invading her mouth the way his cock would soon power its way into her body. She’d never been kissed like that in her life. It made her feel all womanly and strong.

  It made her want him all the more.

  Yes! This was what a real kiss was like. Not even Sven Nydahl had kissed her like this. This was a full-fledged, romance-novel kiss, the kind she’d dreamed about. A deep, toe-curling kiss that reduced her to mewling, boneless surrender.

  Stein was into it, too. He moaned softly and ground his mouth against hers like she was his favorite treat and he couldn’t get enough.

  If this didn’t stop, she’d be nailed to the bed inside twenty seconds. With what little strength she had left, she pushed against him and twisted her mouth out of reach. “Stop. Please, stop.”

  He froze, his ice-blue eyes questioning her.

  “You could at least ask me if it’d be okay,” she gasped between heaving breaths.

  His shoulders stiffened, and his expression hardened. Except for his eyes. Something was going on inside, as if he was weighing his next move. Finally, he spoke.

  “You are my property and shall do as I bid.” There was no warmth in his voice, which frightened her.

  “You may think you own me, but don’t kid yourself. If I don’t want to do it, I won’t be forced.”

  “No? We’ll see about that.” He let her go and edged to the side of the bed. “You’re playing with me, Esme. I think you want it very much.”

  He grasped his belt from the table and snapped it taut.

  She jumped like she’d just touched a hot wire. “What are you going to do with that? Hit me?”

  His eyes flashed a warning that things were going to get interesting. “No, I told you I won’t hurt you.” He moved toward her. “I’m going to do exactly what you want me to.”

  Her juices surged as images of what they were about to do flashed across her mental movie screen.

  He was right, damn him.

  CHAPTER 7

  Stein gazed down at his beautiful captive. He’d tied her arms behind her back with his belt, and the result made his balls throb. Her gorgeous breasts, so juicy and ripe, thrust forward, begging him to touch them...to taste them.

  By Odin’s left ball! This woman was a seductress of the first order. His cock hadn’t been this stiff in months. All he wanted was to fuck her senseless till morning. Fuck her until she collapsed from exhaustion and begged him to stop.

  “You are one of the most maddening men I’ve ever met.” She scowled at him, trying to look angry, but failing. “If you think this cave man act is turning me on, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  He had no idea what a ‘cave man’ was or what ‘turning her on’ meant. Thor’s beard! He didn’t understand her half the time. And he certainly didn’t grasp her talk about women being equal with men. What nonsense.

  Well, he may be a dunderhead when it came to all that, but he was certain of one thing. Though she was loath to admit it, she liked being his prisoner. Her round black pupils, uneven breathing, and musky scent told him she was more than ready to receive him.

  As she rolled from side to side, trying to free her hands, her beautiful, full breasts bobbed like longships on a mild sea. He thought he would go mad if he didn’t take her right then. Too bad she kept on talking.

  “Women in my world aren’t clubbed over the head and dragged around by their hair anymore. We don’t have sex, if we don’t want to. We can just say ‘no’ and our men will stop, just like that.”

  “Then they are weak-willed fools.” He had an idea and reached for his dagger. “Women are the property of men. It is the way of things.”

  “Oh, really?” She froze, eyeing his knife. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “What I should have done from the moment we arrived.” He grasped the top of the sheet and cut the fabric several inches. Then he ripped off the resulting strip with his hands. “You talk too much.”

  “Don’t you dare gag me, you big...”

  He pushed the cloth into her mouth and tied the ends behind her head. She seethed with outrage and tried to kill him with her glare.

  “There, much better.” His gaze wandered to the strange black undergarment that barely covered her female parts. Settling below her flat belly, it disappeared altogether between her naked buttocks. Taunting him with its mystery, he was eager to see what treasures lay beneath.

  He let out a long breath. His organ was so hard, it pained him. He’d not been this sexually charged since...in a long time.

  He ran his hand over her smooth calf and thigh, admiring the hairless expanse, so different from the other women he’d known. “Your skin is like silk.” He stroked the other calf briefly before grasping hold of both ankles and yanking her legs apart to give him better access.

  Her stifled moan was filled with longing.

  Ah, she wanted him to...pleasure her. He could see it in her deep green eyes. Yes, he wanted to satisfy her. Wanted her to writhe beneath him and scream out her joy as she peaked. She was right. It would please him very much.

  Lying down between her legs, he clasped her buttocks with both hands and lowered his face to her sex, nuzzling it through the sheer black fabric. Her scent was marvelous. Fresh and clean. In fact, her entire body smelled like meadow flowers, light and fragrant, without the heavy musk of other women. His mouth watered as he breathed in her aroma.

  She groaned, deep and throaty.

  Pressing his nose against her, he flicked his tongue over the black fabric, eliciting a sound halfway between a moan and a squeal. She wanted mor
e and so did he. With each inhalation of her erotic scent, his desire to please her grew in tandem with his need to have her.

  He mouthed and tongued her mound through the fabric, making her firm buttocks jump in his hands. Whimpering, she squirmed with pleasure, growing wetter with each lashing of his tongue. Before long, her natural juices and his saliva combined to turn the black cloth into a soggy mess.

  He paused to look at her. She took his breath away. Lying quietly now, with her eyes closed and her head thrown back against the pillow, she was the very picture of female arousal. Her smooth skin was damp and flushed, her breaths were quick and shallow. The perfume of her arousal filled his head like a powerful aphrodisiac, driving his need higher and higher. More than anything, he wanted to taste her without the barrier.

  He reached for his dagger and slashed the strange black fabric at both hips. As he tore it from her body, she twisted and moaned, pulsing more wetness from her creamy slit.

  Her stimulating aroma and the sight of her pink, swollen flesh made him lose control. He tossed the dagger to the floor and spread her legs wider still. Driving his tongue into and around her weeping entrance, he absorbed her taste and scent like a sex-crazed wolf. Better than any love potion, her beautiful, naked body was a feast for his senses, and he couldn’t get enough.

  Arching her back, she thrust her sex against his mouth, begging him for more. She was close to her release, and he would make certain it was a good one. He wanted her to enjoy every stroke and probe of his tongue and fingers, wanted her body to tremble uncontrollably because he gave her pleasure. Latching onto her swollen clit, he sucked hard...and pushed her over the edge.

  Her body clenched violently, exploding into climax. Waves of bliss consumed her, tearing from her throat the muffled sounds of raw ecstasy. Thrashing her head on the pillow, she fought for breath...for life, it seemed to him. Never had he seen such an intense reaction to his lovemaking.

  He backed off and raised up on his forearms. “Are you all right?” She seemed not to hear him, so he sat up beside her. His erection throbbed with unfulfilled need, but he fought down the fierce drive to spread her legs and plunge into her. That would come soon enough.