“Don’t forget the rest—” Bodin sucked in a tense breath as he reached inside his trousers and adjusted his blood-engorged cock.
Wide-eyed, Chessa looked at the large bulge. Her face burned hot. And even though the fire held little heat, she was plenty warm. An odd, fluttery sensation made her nipples contract and ache. She ran the soap over them, hoping to ease the strange feeling, but instead her belly reacted, the muscles quivering. She shifted on her feet, a slippery wetness joining the throb that had begun to beat between her thighs.
Tentatively she met Bodin’s gaze. He stood there, watching, not saying a word as his gaze rolled over every inch of her. His lips twitched, jaw clenching tight.
Had she done something wrong? Was he angry?
“Fin—” he cleared his throat. “Finish.”
His voice had changed from a ragged whisper to a low, commanding rumble that seemed to reach inside her and make her muscles obey of their own will. Her hands shook as she smeared her palms with a thin layer of the harsh soap.
Chessa lowered her gaze and rewashed her belly.
Bodin took a step closer. “Watch me while you bathe. Follow my instructions.”
Her head jerked up. What would he want her to do? Rapid, shallow little gasps shook her breasts. She wanted to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. As she was unsure what to expect, her heart thumped inside her chest.
Bodin’s gaze dropped to her hands, her small fingers frozen atop her smooth, flat little tummy. “Slide one hand between your legs.”
The harsh, strained expression on his face made her rush to obey.
“Slowly,” he growled.
Chessa’s heart jumped into her throat, robbing her of much needed air. The room started to spin. Her legs shook. She inched her hand lower along her soap-slickened skin, fingers reaching the nest of coarse red curls. She swallowed and continued deeper as he’d instructed.
“Ah—” Chessa’s voice seized, her throat closed to air and words. A fire ripped through her, and she swayed forward.
Bodin grabbed for her, catching her small body as she lost her balance. His gut tightened. Keeping the weight of her pressed to his chest, he whispered in her ear, “Shall I finish the task for you?”
2
B odin steadied Chessa back onto her feet. By the gods, she was beautiful. He cupped the side of her face, brushing back the long strands of wet hair with his thumbs.
Her fine-boned fingers curled into his shirt. She couldn’t look at him. Bodin let out the breath he’d been holding. He collected her small wrists into one of his hands as he turned her around and braced her back against his chest. As a rule, maidens were damn skittish.
With her inconsiderable frame trapped against him, he bent and cupped his free hand into the tub. The scent of soap and wildflowers wafted from her hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled, letting the tincture of heady earth and sweet nectars fill his lungs. The smells still lingered fresh on her skin. She’d spent her day of freedom in the hills.
Bodin gritted his teeth. This bargain might take more control than he had. He brought the warm water to her waist and let it trickle down her leg. She tensed in his confining grasp. He further moistened the soap on her hip. Her bottom wiggled, rubbing against his already needy loins.
He clenched his jaw shut with a growl, tightening his hold on her wrists. “Easy, girl. This part won’t hurt.” But it may damn near kill me. His hand slid over the supple skin of her tummy.
Chessa held her breath, trying to stifle a whimper.
His trapped cock strained for freedom as her stomach muscles tensed and quivered beneath his palm. He spread his fingers, spanning the whole of her belly, hip bone to hip bone. She was almost insignificant against him.
He dragged in a deep breath. He’d hardly touched her, and already she maddened him. “Relax. Don’t worm around so.” Bodin continued to rub his hand over her ribs and stomach, sides and hips, to settle her to his touch. So unlike the other women he’d bedded—robust, healthy sized, anxious women. He would have to take great pains not to hurt this one.
And by the gods, he didn’t want to hurt this one. He looked down over her shoulder. Her breasts, firm and soapy, rubbed against his hairy arm with every fractured breath she took. The pale globes, large on her small frame, fascinated him. He wished more than anything to seek out and explore the tight, pink nipples that bobbed up and down, teasing him, calling to him. But his balls pained him too much at the moment.
She moved backward, brushing against him again, and his cock throbbed, straining to reach her. He threw his head back, sucking in an impossible breath as he battled for control.
His fingers grazed over the triangular tuft of hair at her center. She arched against him, her small, firm bottom driving backward into his groin. Damnit, at this rate, her squirming would have him spilling his seed in his trousers.
Her breasts heaved, stiff nipples scraping his forearms as she panted in his grip, unfamiliar with the urgency of passion. His gut tightened, and he bared his teeth, hissing, “I’ll not warn you again—be still, Chessa.”
“Ah…I—” she gasped for air. “I—”
He leaned her backward, disrupting her balance so he could control her weight—and her innocent talent at driving him to the brink. He steeled himself as she struggled to free her hands and regain her footing.
Chessa whimpered, a deep, throaty half groan.
Bodin had had enough. If he didn’t finish her bath now, he would regret it. And so would she. With the small, slippery chunk of soap still trapped between her stomach and his palm, he slid his hand to the top of her leg, brushing against the thatch of coarse red curls that hindered his view of her sex. His fingers moved to her inner thigh, opening her to his touch.
She continued to squirm, despite a grip he knew must be crushing to her. The tip of his finger slid easily into her wet, secluded juncture, smearing the evidence of her musky desire. Her head thrashed, gasps changing to sobs.
“By the gods,” Bodin cursed. At this rate, he’d hurt her. He moved his hand behind her, cupping and squeezing the firm mounds of her buttocks.
Already engorged to the point of pain, his cock thickened and throbbed. He had to hurry.
Using the soapy water to ease his fingers between the cleft of her bottom, he made his way forward to her moist center. A single, calloused finger slipped into the slick, passion-swollen folds of her sex. He closed his eyes for a moment. How he wanted to taste her there, hear her scream his name. For now, this would have to do. Her writhing made his efforts to be gentle difficult as he coated more of his fingers with the evidence of her need. But before he could enter far enough to breech her virgin barrier, she cried out, her body convulsing as she shattered in his arms.
Bodin swore under his breath and tore at the laces of his trousers. He growled, his body frozen with effort as his seed gushed forth onto her creamy skin. His hand, slick from her copious moisture, jerked furiously at his cock, desperate to spend absolutely everything he had.
Out of breath, he bent forward, resting his cheek on the top of her damp head, panting.
Chessa struggled, shaking against the stranglehold of his arm around her body. Her wrists ached, hands and fingers tingling.
“Sorry,” Bodin exhaled, standing her back onto her feet and turning her to face him. He looked into her wide eyes, still dark with passion and the shock of her first orgasm. Flecks of gold stood out atop vibrant green, sparkling in the dim torchlight. He brushed the backs of his fingers against her flushed cheek.
She shivered, the water long since cold on her skin.
Bodin took hold of her hands, turning them over to examine her fragile wrists, the obvious redness an ugly reminder of how gentle he needed to be with her. “Out with you,” he ordered, his voice still edged with passion.
Chessa’s legs trembled, weak, and she clutched at his shirt as she stepped onto the rushes.
Bodin grabbed the bathing cloth and dipped it into the water. He turned her around and
cleaned his spendings from her pale, flawless skin. The sight of her, dips and curves and hollows, aroused him.
He tossed the rag away and looked down at his cock, almost half hard and well on the way to demanding satisfaction a second time. “By the gates of Valhalla,” he hissed. This bargain just may be his undoing. Never had the need to satisfy his baser urges returned so soon.
Chessa turned around to see what was the matter. “Sh—shall I see to your bath now?”
Her small voice broke into his thoughts. “No!” His harsh tone startled even him. With closed eyes, he sighed. But it did no good. The vision of her, soft and sweet, lingered in his mind and on his fingertips. And he’d yet to taste the tiniest portion of her bared skin. The sound of her impassioned whimpers bounced around inside his skull. With a shake of his head and a deep breath, he nodded to the chair. “Sit.”
She obeyed and reached for her clothes.
“No.” He cleared his throat and put forth the effort it took to soften his voice. “You’ll not dress again until the morning.” His gaze dropped to her taut pink nipples, peeking through the veil of her long hair, straining for him with their daring presence. Every drop of blood in his veins changed direction, rushing below his waist. His cock demanded that he touch her, ready her to meet the full force of his flesh and sate the deepening need inside him.
Bodin reached out and brushed her long hair behind her shoulders so he could see all of her. His cock jumped.
Running a hand over his face, he bit back another curse and stepped into the icy bath water, desperate for refuge from his urgent need. His heart just might explode inside his chest if he had to endure such a necessity for control again.
She sat beside the tub, eyes focused on the floor, her skin a burnished pink.
He could see thoughts of confusion roll through her mind. “Keep your eyes on me, Chessa.” She might as well learn from the start that he intended to make the most of his limited time with her. That is, if he could survive this night and the challenge of her sweet innocence.
Quickly he soaped and rinsed. The cold water had done little to diminish his desire. Only one thing would do that.
Her body.
3
B odin stepped, dripping wet, from the tub, his manhood large and protruding.
Chessa swallowed. Her body warmed despite her state of undress and only embers left in the hearth. She watched him walk to his bed, scrubbing his hair and skin dry with the cloth.
Her stomach quivered. The warm wetness between her thighs urged her to squirm. The same tingling from before drew her attention.
“Chessa.”
The command startled her, and she jumped, snapping her wide-eyed gaze to meet his. The beats of her heart slammed in her chest; she hadn’t realized she’d been staring.
“Come here to me,” he growled, sitting on his bed.
As she stood, her hair fell forward, covering her. She glanced down at her pile of clothes on the floor but left them. He wanted to see her, bared. He’d said so. And by the look of him, he wanted to touch her again, too.
Of that much she was certain.
The thought of his hands on her again, teasing places she didn’t even know she wanted him to touch, sent strange sensations churning in the pit of her belly. Her nipples contracted, tight and aching. She stopped, standing before him. His gaze roamed the length of her, heating her naked skin. A throb hammered between her slippery thighs, and she closed her eyes. She shifted on her feet, seeking some sort of relief, but moving only made it worse.
“Closer,” Bodin rasped, his eyes fixed on her breasts.
As she inched forward, he brushed her hair to the side.
“Closer.”
Chessa’s eyebrows rose. How could she get closer? She was already well within his reach. He brushed back more of her hair, and she reached behind her neck, gathering and twisting thick handfuls of waves to tie into a knot.
“No. Leave it unbound,” Bodin ordered. He spread his legs a little wider. “Now come closer.”
A dewy sheen of sweat chilled her, rippling over her flesh in waves from the cooling night air. She started to ease between his thighs, but his knee intentionally interfered.
“No,” he whispered. His hands grabbed her hips. “Like this.” He pulled her forward so she straddled his leg.
“I—” Her throat constricted, choking off her words. His mouth was so close; his breath washed hot across her skin again and again. Bodin’s mouth hovered only a scant distance away from her breasts. A thrumming fire burned between her thighs. Would he touch her there again? He licked at his lips.
A drop of moisture trickled down the inside of her leg, and she gasped. Why was this happening? Chessa wanted to close her legs, to cease the burning, to stop him looking, but he held her trapped, standing astride his hairy, muscular thigh, preventing any chance of that.
“Sh—” She cleared her throat and swallowed. Squeaking, her voice rose in pitch with each word. “Shouldn’t I be tending to your—”
“You are.” His mouth closed over one taut, pink, teasing nipple.
“Ahhh—” Chessa’s stomach tensed as her knees gave way, fingers curling into fists on either side of his head, digging into the thick blond hair. She gasped for air as he did everything in his power to devour her. The throbbing between her thighs got worse. Had he not held on to her, she would have fallen.
Bodin sucked hard on her breast, taking as much as physically possible into his mouth. He trapped her hard nipple between his teeth.
Chessa cried out, hips jutting forward as her body shook. Just as she thought she’d lost her breath forever, his attention shifted to her other breast. But the chance to breathe was short-lived.
She tried to pull him closer, to give him more of her. But more of what? The need between her thighs grew more urgent. Her hips rocked back and forth, demanding attention elsewhere.
His large hands slipped lower on her hips, fingers covering her buttocks, thumbs lodged into the bend at the top of her legs. He drew her tender flesh apart. The friction racked her. Far from sating her need, he’d made it worse. Chessa melted forward, his manhood hard against her thigh. She heard him suck in a sharp breath.
He released her nipple from his teeth, cursing. He slid one hand to her lower back as the other pressed into the cradle of her belly, bracing her. “Look at me, Chessa.”
“Ahhh…p—p—please…” She wormed in his grip, wanting him back at her breast. Wanting his fingers back closer to the pulsing need between her thighs. She let her head drop back, struggling for more air in her lungs.
“At me—look,” he demanded, lust grating harsh in his voice.
Why didn’t he touch her as he had before in the tub? Her eyes, half lidded and black as night, managed to meet his gaze. Tears of confusion rimmed her lashes.
“Do not take your eyes from mine,” he breathed. “I want to see how much you enjoy my touch.”
How could she act so? He’d done little more than touch her skin, taste her breasts…She shuddered. Never had she imagined she would be standing before a Viking, exposed to his every whim, and willing. Bodin’s thumb slid into the moist, wet cleft of her thighs, and all thoughts ceased. She struggled to do as he’d commanded, to watch only him.
Her hips writhed, riding the firestorm of ache and want and need as his thumb delved deeper into the wet curls, stroking back and forth without reprieve. And without allowing her to catch the crest of desire as he had before. Eyes closed, her head dropped back.
Bodin’s lips pulled back over his teeth as he warned again, voice low. “Do not hide your pleasure from me.”
Chessa gasped for air, unaware he had maneuvered his other leg between hers until she sat open and vulnerable between his slightly spread thighs. Her feet dangled above the cold floor.
He continued to rake his thumb ever so slightly over the sweet, moist sanctuary awaiting him. He guided one of her arms around his neck as he held her balanced over his legs.
Panting,
she leaned into his shoulder as her small body trembled and jerked toward his elusive, feathery touch.
Bodin bent his head, whispering against her ear, “And this bargain is what you wish, Chessa?”
The ominous need rose to a fevered pitch, and she clutched at him frantically, her voice managing only to squeak, “Yes! Oh, now, please now—”
Bodin ceased his brief, teasing caresses.
“No…” she groaned, gasping for air.
He gritted his teeth, speaking more to himself than to Chessa. “No help for it.” He’d have to use her own body against her. Or she would reach completion again before he could take her maidenhead. He pulled her against his rigid cock.
Chessa sucked in a shocked breath. Yet she relished the contact of his warm body. Of the hard heat of his swollen manhood. Of anything that would ease this furious hunger. Free of his hindering grasp, she moved of her own accord, rubbing as best she could against him.
“That’s right, sweet one,” Bodin rasped. “Let the fire build inside your belly.” He grabbed his cock, dragging the tip of it through her moist curls and across the surface of her honeyed sweetness, seeking the entrance to her slickened sanctuary. He lifted her a little, his mouth clamping onto her breast again, doing service to her need as well as to his own.
Chessa moaned as his teeth claimed possession of her swollen nipple. She arched her back, her body moving on pure instinct.
Slowly the tip of his manhood rubbed along the length of her and then back. She froze, torn between the opposing sensations in her body. Moving either way, up toward his mouth or lower against the urgent, parting pressure of him, would cease the pleasure of the other. Something she couldn’t bear at the moment.
Bodin’s arm wrapped about her waist, pulling her hips down to better meet the head of his cock.
Chessa’s mind grappled for what to do. She held her breath, unable to decide between the raw, aching need searing at her breast and the invading heat of him pressing at her, parting her.
Bodin’s hand slid beneath the long tresses of hair hanging down her back, wrapping the masses of waves around his wrist as an anchor. Fingers tightened around the nape of her neck.
Pleasure of His Bed Page 18