‘You cannot,’ Tarn pleaded, feeling the pleasure build as Sarin’s lips worked his cock, while his fingers teasingly caressed Tarn’s balls.
Sarin surfaced and turned, pressing his firm buttocks back against Tarn’s muscular belly. He pulled his cheeks apart, offering his body up to Tarn. ‘Do it, please.’
Tarn’s fingers brushed the tempting ring and the muscles trembled as if begging his fingers to slide inside the dark hole. Tarn swallowed anxiously and filled with an overpowering urge to take what Sarin offered so freely. His revenge would be sweet. But when Sarin had taken him, he’d always liberally oiled his prick before thrusting it inside Tarn. There were no such luxuries as scented oil in the barren cave. ‘It will hurt,’ he muttered.
‘A hurt I both need and desire.’ Sarin gave a soft laugh. ‘The pain will be but a passing phase, making the pleasure that follows even sweeter. I feel this is so right. This one act could shatter the boundaries that have grown between us: make us the friends we once were in the past.’
‘I doubt that,’ Tarn grunted as he slid his cock between the pert cheeks and pressed the head against Sarin’s taut opening. Immediately he was filled with an all consuming need to thrust.
‘Despite everything I’ve always loved you, Tarn,’ Sarin whispered.
Nothing made sense any more to Tarn. Caught up in his primeval desires, he thrust his cock into Sarin’s tight arsehole. Spurred on by Sarin’s groan of pain he thrust harder and deeper until he was fully embedded and his balls slapped against Sarin’s backside. The sensation of tightness was exquisite, like nothing he’d ever known, as Sarin’s flesh embraced his engorged prick.
‘This is so right,’ Sarin gasped, pressing his buttocks back against the invasive cock. ‘You feel so huge. So many times in the past, when I’ve had my shaft buried deep inside you, Tarn, I’ve wondered what it would feel like to be penetrated so completely.’
‘Now you know.’ Staying buried inside, Tarn flipped Sarin over on his stomach, pressing him down against the rough blanket. Sarin gave a submissive moan, enduring Tarn’s heavy weight atop him.
‘Thrust hard, hurt me,’ he begged, as Tarn lifted himself on his arms and began to move his hips. The covering had fallen off them both and the chill air caressed their skin, but they were both so caught up in their sexual excitement that they were immune to the cold. The fire was burning lower now, the flickering flames casting huge shadowy pictures of them copulating on the dark walls of the cave, like two prehistoric creatures from times long past.
Tarn’s climax was building too quickly, so he withdrew and rimmed Sarin’s anus with the head of his cock, until Sarin begged him to fuck him again. Rising to his knees, he pulled Sarin with him. Once again Tarn invaded the tight dark hole, holding Sarin close, twining his arms around his waist. Tarn grabbed hold of Sarin’s cock, wanking it in time to his violent pounding thrusts, losing himself in the pleasure of possessing the man who had used and abused him so cruelly in the past.
As his climax came and the wrenching pleasure consumed him, Tarn’s fingers tightened around Sarin’s cock. Spunk spurted from the tip, coating Tarn’s hand, dribbling over Sarin’s stomach and thighs.
Roughly he pushed Sarin down on to the blanket, rolled him over and sat aside his trembling form. ‘Lick it clean,’ Tarn ordered, shoving his hand close to Sarin’s face.
Niska pulled the neckline of her dress lower so that it showed the generous curves of her breasts and her nipples, which were almost on display, then she left the refuge of her bedchamber. For the first time she felt a little uneasy in Ragnor’s domain. Her renewed relationship with her half-brother had not turned out to be quite as she had anticipated as both had changed greatly from the children they were in the past. Matters had not been helped, of course, by the indulgent way he treated his new thrall.
Less than an hour ago Chang had said goodbye to Niska and set off on a quest to find a valley he’d been told of. It was said to be a magical place set close to the borders of Asgard. It was never cold, snow never fell, flowers bloomed eternally, and the trees were always festooned with blossom. A beautiful sorceress lived in the valley, one powerful enough to lift the curse on Chang. Niska had wished him well on his quest, although she’d doubted he’d ever find this magical place, which probably only existed in the stories men told round the campfires at night.
Chang had left Hordo in charge of the mercenaries. He was strong but Niska didn’t trust Hordo like she did Chang. With Hordo in control of them, she no longer felt she could fully rely on her men. She’d begun to feel uncomfortably alone, here in a place that had once been her home. Vestfold was almost alien to her, she had changed so much in the intervening years. Also she was certain that many of the jarls secretly despised her because she was the bastard child of a slave, despite the fact that she was Ragnor’s half-sister. Women were considered of little consequence in Vestfold and without her brother’s affection and visible support she had little more influence here than the lowest slave.
After the ceremony by the lake the men had spent the entire night feasting. Rianna had retired early: Niska had seen her leave. But Ragnor, as custom decreed, had stayed up carousing with his men. She had decided to see him now, before Rianna’s influence over him became even stronger, and settle matters between them once and for all.
She was about to ask one of the warriors, who was wandering drunkenly around the longhouse, to take a message to Ragnor, when the door of the hall was flung open and her half-brother strode out. He was walking a shade unsteadily as if he were intoxicated, although during his youth Niska had seen him consume vast quantities without appearing drunk.
‘Brother, can I talk to you?’ Niska asked.
‘Talk?’ Ragnor stopped and looked quizzically at Niska.
‘Talk alone,’ she said, glancing around the empty passageway. ‘In the privacy of your chamber?’
He grinned and draped a heavy arm around her shoulder. ‘If you wish it, sister.’
Ragnor stank of wine, overlaid with a strong masculine scent of musk and sweat that made her senses spin. She found it highly arousing and was already beginning to feel lightheaded by the time they entered his chamber. Fortunately Rianna was nowhere to be seen as Ragnor guided Niska to a padded settle placed close to the hearth, where a huge fire blazed.
Ragnor sat and pulled Niska down beside him. She looked at his huge hands resting on his muscular thighs, seeing the way his breeches stretched tautly over the large mound of his sex. The bulge looked extraordinarily tempting, and she longed to touch it, recalling how magnificent he’d looked naked when he’d set the drakar alight.
‘I wish to talk of the future,’ Niska said.
‘You mean your future, Niska,’ Ragnor replied, staring at her intently, suddenly appearing far less intoxicated. He grinned. ‘I hear you arranged to deposit a large chest of money and plate in my stronghouse. You never mentioned what a wealthy woman you had become.’
‘I intended to tell you brother, when the time was right,’ she said. Ragnor did not know about the chest of jewels hidden in her room – only Chang and Tanith knew of them. She took hold of his hand. ‘If I thought you needed it you would be welcome to share my wealth. Have I told you how much I missed you, Ragnor? We were so close once.’
‘We can be again, sister,’ he replied, but she sensed no true depth of feeling in his reply.
‘Did you not miss me, also?’
‘Of course,’ he said gruffly. ‘You are my kin.’
She pressed his hand to her bosom. ‘Feel my love for you, brother. It fills my heart.’
His fingers briefly closed over her breast and her nipples tightened in anticipation, but then to her disappointment he pulled his hand away. ‘Your heart beats like any other. Only women know of such matters as love,’ he mumbled awkwardly.
‘I know of many things other than love, far more than you give me credit for. I have had my mind opened by my travels, my sojourns in other lands,’ she said. ‘Do you know much of
other lands far beyond the borders of Vestfold, Ragnor?’
He chuckled. ‘Have you forgotten the many times father beat me because I would not listen to my tutors and wanted to pass my time in more manly pursuits?’
‘While I envied your right to an education,’ she added. ‘Father thought it wasteful to educate women.’
‘He often failed to understand your complexities, Niska.’ Ragnor kissed her cheek in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. ‘But why do you talk of other lands?’
‘Because there is a land in the south, far across the seas. A fertile land of great riches where the monarch has wealth and power beyond your dreams. The monarchy survives and flourishes because it is the custom for brother and sister to wed and rule together.’
‘Brother and sister?’ Ragnor muttered uneasily.
‘Tis not wrong,’ Niska insisted. Is it not told in the saga of Kveldeg that he married his sister, Berthega, and had many fine sons? It was they who drove the phantoms from Vestfold and will return to protect us from the wrath of the gods.’
‘A fine story,’ Ragnor agreed. ‘But merely a legend.’
‘You are the one who believes in our heritage and keeps our legends and customs alive.’ She touched the rune scars on his arms. ‘That is why you are such a great leader, Ragnor. If you have my riches and the knowledge of other lands I posses you could be even greater. We could hire mercenaries, build an army so massive, that you could easily control all of Vestfold. We could conquer Kabra, Percheron, any land you wish. Think of the power . . .’ She placed her palm on his bulge, feeling the heat and the hardness. When Ragnor made no move to pull away or protest, she dug her fingers into the plaited leather and gently began rubbing the shaft.
‘Niska!’ Ragnor exclaimed as she pulled open the laces and freed his cock. ‘You forget yourself,’ he muttered as she stroked the shaft until it stiffened and grew hard.
‘I want you, Ragnor. Together we could be so strong, so powerful.’ Niska leaned forwards and pulled his cock into her mouth, rimming the head with her tongue, trying to swallow as much of its massive length as she could.
Ragnor gave a soft groan as Niska slid her lips smoothly up and down his shaft, pulling it halfway down her throat, then sliding her mouth up to the head again. ‘Feel my love, experience its strength.’ She pulled his hand under her skirts and pressed it to her naked pussy. Ragnor’s thick fingers instinctively stroked her denuded flesh, sliding into the hot moistness of her cunt, while she continued sucking his cock, digging the tip of her tongue teasingly into the narrow slit on its bulging head.
Niska had almost begun to believe she had won him over when he gave an angry growl and shoved her away from him. She landed in an undignified heap on the floor at his feet. ‘Niska,’ he hissed, his face contorted in anger. It had turned the same purplish red shade as his cock. ‘You almost made me forget myself. Have you no honour?’
‘Honour?’ She rose to her feet, feeling frustrated and almost as angry as he was. ‘You’re a fool, Ragnor, if you don’t take what I have to offer.’ Niska pulled up her skirts and she saw his eyes focus hungrily at her naked mons. He’d probably never seen a hairless woman before – most men found the sight intoxicating. ‘Look harder,’ she taunted, pushing her pelvis towards him, opening her thighs and parting her sex lips with her fingers. ‘See how wet I am, my sex weeps for your stupidity, brother. With my untold wealth at your disposal and me at your side you could become the strongest, most powerful warrior Vestfold has ever known. Almost as strong as Thor himself.’
‘Get away from me,’ he yelled, stuffing his rigid cock back into his breeches. Ragnor’s hand was trembling and Niska knew that he was far from immune to her charms and the offer she’d just made him. ‘You are my sister. It’s not seemly.’
‘Seemly,’ she screamed. ‘Neither is it seemly to slobber over a mere thrall in public’ She dropped her skirts. ‘You demean yourself, Ragnor, you demean me. Rianna is a slave yet you treat her more like a wife.’
‘How I treat my thrall is my concern not yours,’ he blazed, standing up and looming menacingly over her. ‘You forget your place, woman. Now begone before I forget myself completely and take a whip to you.’
‘Perhaps I would enjoy that almost as much as fucking you.’ She smirked sarcastically. ‘You are a fool Ragnor, just like all men,’ she sneered, walking out of the room and pulling the door shut behind her with a resounding bang.
Chapter Ten
TARN COULD BARELY bring himself to look at Sarin as they rode back to the camp. He didn’t even want to think of the many sexual excesses they’d shared during the long dark night in the cave. He’d been like a man possessed, indulging in a wild frenzy of lust he’d never believed he was capable of. It was as if they’d been transported back to the past, but this time he’d played the part of the master and Sarin the slave.
Sarin had claimed that the sexual acts would exorcise Tarn’s demons but they had not. The encounter had left him confused and troubled by dark thoughts.
As they rode into camp, Tarn chanced a glance at Sarin, who had also been surprisingly quiet. He seemed disappointed by Tarn’s response as if he’d expected their relationship to have changed dramatically in the last few hours.
‘Last night . . .’ Tarn awkwardly cleared his throat.
‘You prefer not to speak of it. I understand,’ Sarin said quietly. ‘I’d hoped it would demolish the barriers between us. But you are far from ready to do that just yet.’
‘My liege, we were so troubled.’ Jentius strode towards them smiling in relief. ‘I’m pleased to see you are safe and unharmed. We feared your capture, or worse.’
‘We are both well,’ Tarn told him. ‘The blizzard forced us to take refuge in a cave for the night.’
‘You saw Ragnor’s stronghold?’
‘It will not be easy to get inside.’ Tarn glanced at Sarin who nodded his agreement.
‘Far from easy, Captain Jentius,’ Sarin confirmed.
‘A few of us may be able to enter disguised as Niska’s mercenaries,’ Tarn said and jumped from his horse. He drew his sword. Using the point he drew a rough map in the snow. ‘See this overhanging cliff, close by the lake and the outer wall. We’ll move the men to that spot. There’s plenty of cover, so we can watch the place as we make our plans. Order the men to pack up and make ready to depart.’
‘I will, sire. But first you must eat. You and Lord Sarin must be famished.’
‘I’ll change first,’ Sarin announced. ‘My clothes are still damp.’
‘Damp?’ Jentius questioned, then looked rather uneasy, fearing that he may have spoken out of turn.
‘It is a long story.’ Sarin smiled. ‘Ask your king. He may be prepared to tell you how he saved my life.’
As Sarin strode away, Tarn moved to the fire, sniffing appreciatively at the bubbling pot of rabbit stew. ‘That smells good,’ he told the man who was stirring the pot.
Tarn ate two bowls of the stew in quick succession, knowing that Jentius was eager to hear what had occurred, but dare not be so bold as to question his king. Tarn was relieved, as he had no wish to even think about what had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Once he was finished he dismissed Jentius, ordering him to personally oversee preparations for their departure and sat staring morosely into the flames of the campfire. When all was ready Tarn mounted his horse and moved to the front of the troop accompanied by Jentius, rather relieved Sarin had not bothered to rejoin him. He decided it would be wiser to keep his distance from Sarin in future. He rode from the clearing. He looked down noticing more than one set of tracks in the freshly fallen snow. Not only were there Tarn’s and Sarin’s tracks leading into the camp, but the tracks of two horses leaving before them and heading in a northerly direction down the mountainside.
‘Have you sent out scouts?’ Tarn asked Jentius.
‘No, my lord,’ Jentius replied, frowning.
‘Then whose tracks are these?’ Tarn asked.
&n
bsp; ‘I saw no one leave, but I’ll check to see if anyone is missing,’ Jentius said. He turned his mount and rode back along the line of men.
He returned moments later looking confused.
‘Who? ‘Tarn asked.
‘I don’t understand,’ Jentius muttered awkwardly. ‘The only two missing are Lord Sarin and Zene. Why should they ride off alone and unprotected?’
‘Why indeed,’ agreed Tarn. He recalled what Sarin had said, and could appreciate that he had decided not to risk his life to capture Niska, but that still didn’t explain why he’d left without telling even his own men. Why hadn’t he taken his escort with him, and why was he travelling north, not south? Tarn stiffened, not even wanting to consider the reasons for Sarin’s unexpected departure.
Niska ran her fingers through her tangled white-blonde hair as she stared thoughtfully at Jorvik lying naked on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head. His lean chest was hairless but there were thick dark tufts in his armpits that had a pungent masculine odour she found very sexy. This was the first time she’d taken any interest in Jorvik since their encounter by the lake, and the experience had been surprisingly pleasurable. Jorvik’s lovemaking lacked finesse and he’d displayed a rough brutality that excited her. If she couldn’t have Ragnor beside her then she’d have his second-in-command instead.
‘Have you spoken to Ragnor about his relationship with his new thrall?’ she asked.
‘It is not my place to do so,’ he said curtly.
‘Do the other jarls not think it strange that he’s so taken with Rianna?’ she pressed.
‘They keep their opinions to themselves,’ he growled. ‘You’ve been away from Vestfold far too long, my lady. It’s not acceptable here to question the behaviour of one’s betters, not if you value your life.’
‘Do you not find it frustrating?’ She played idly with his small flat nipples. ‘Always having to obey Ragnor’s commands.’
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