Chessa’s head dropped back as her body rocked of its own accord, seeking the semifamiliar urges he’d wrung from her body before. She panted, caring of nothing at the moment, not home, not duty, not consequence—
Bodin wiggled his thumb deeper into her damp nest of curls, adding influence to her indecision. She pressed her slim body downward a fraction, striving for more of his touch.
Chessa’s eyes widened at the incursion of such an enormous pressure.
Bodin relinquished her breast, panting for air as he tightened his grip. He surged upward, sliding deeper into her body, filling more of her. “Good girl, Chessa.” He gritted his teeth, enduring the tight heat of her innocent body, and gripped his cock harder in an effort for control. His thumb flicked over the wet, swollen nub her passion had exposed for him. “It’ll hurt this time,” he breathed in her ear. “No help for it.” He widened his legs, using her own weight to bear more of him inside.
“Ah…” Chessa tensed, struggling between fear and desire. Her body burned, torn between the need of more and the ache of discomfort. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
Bodin’s ragged, harsh breaths washed across her shoulder as he gently pressed her downward, impaling her ever so slowly. “Ah…ah…”
Bodin reached the barrier of her maidenhead.
A blur of sensations filled Chessa. Pressure and fullness. Pain. An urgency to move. She shook her head, pushing against his chest. “What do I—how—” His touch feathered along her tortured flesh, sending away all reason, all uncertainty and protest. She strained for him, for the completion he’d given her before, taking a little more of him inside her body as she did so. A harrowing ache threatened of pain, and she stilled.
“Here, let me help.” Bodin raised her just a fraction, unwilling to relinquish much of the territory he’d gained. By the gods, he needed to bury himself deep and stay there.
He urged her back down, stopping when she tensed, and then repeated the small motion, showing her the means to gain what she sought. He squeezed his eyes shut; his own need demanded attention, and he grabbed ahold of the back of her neck, preparing to do what would have to be done.
Chessa groaned as his thumb returned to torture hidden places. Her hips began to rock forward of their own accord, unable to resist greeting the wave of invading pleasure any longer. She panted.
“That…a girl. Give into it, sweet one.”
His words were a warm breeze on her mouth as he brushed against her lips. He pulled her closer, nuzzling her ear, distracting her.
“All of it, Chessa. You must take all of my cock inside you if you wish to sate your body.” His touch ceased, reinforcing his point.
“No, don’t stop, please….” She fought for breath, shaking her head as she clutched at his shoulders. “Please….” He had to keep touching her; she needed him to touch her, but she just couldn’t move down any farther. “I can’t…” Sobs caught in her throat. “There is too much—”
“No.” His gut tightened as he fought the urge to ram his body inside hers, teach her that he would fit, over and over and over again. Instead he sucked the chilly air through his clenched teeth. “You will see,” he continued on a groan, “your body was made for this.”
Chessa squeezed her eyes shut. Her nipples, raw and swollen, scraped against his chest with every breath either of them took, lashing her with a force of need she could not control. His thumb returned to the splayed, open center of her body. With swift movements, he demanded everything from her. And she welcomed it. A rise of pressure flooded her belly, heating her from the inside out, taking away reason.
Bodin claimed her mouth, tightening his hold as he helped her rock up and down on the head of his cock, showing her the way to seek her own pleasure. Just as she began to whimper and rush, her muscles clutching and contracting around the girth of him, he drove her down onto his shaft.
Chessa screamed as her body convulsed in warps and wefts of pleasure and pain, disbelief and driving need. But Bodin’s silencing kisses did not relent, did not let her think, did not forgive her of her innocence.
He held tight, his grip rough and possessive as he pressed the full length and breadth of his cock inside her, holding her body spread astride his, his claim on her never to be doubted.
Chessa tensed, eyes watering as she froze momentarily atop him, not daring to breathe, her mind unable to comprehend what had just happened. Though her body clearly did. Her hips began to rock forward, attempting to take more of him.
He broke the kiss. “Not yet.” He tried to give her a moment to ease to the shock and size of him. His chest heaved for air, his own need nearly upon him. “Breathe, Chessa. The worst of it—” he tightened his grip on her as her muscles clenched around him, pulling at him, “—done.”
She trembled. His forehead bent to meet hers, his lips laying tiny kisses at the corners of her mouth.
“The pain is over now, sweet one. Breathe.”
“Breathe?” Chessa gasped as tiny intakes of air shook every inch of her. How could she ever breathe again? She squeezed her closed eyes even tighter.
“Look at me,” he growled, baring his teeth. He tugged the handful of hair he held, tilting her face to his. “Chessa, look at me.”
She opened her eyes. Bodin’s lips twitched, a pained expression straining his features.
“You must relax and breathe,” he panted. “I have to move inside you now. To finish.”
4
C onfusion clouded Chessa’s thoughts as Bodin laid her onto the thin feather mattress of his bed. The last minutes of pleasure were nothing but a blur. Her mind struggled to catch up to the realizations her body already understood.
He bent, tugging a fur to cover her as his gaze scanned each feature of her face. The back of his hand wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Have I hurt you much?” he asked, plucking strands of long hair from her flushed face, setting them off to the side.
Chessa shook her head. She didn’t know what to say. But when he stood and walked to the door, the words rushed from her. “Where are you going?” She sat up, worried, and winced at the aching soreness between her legs.
Bodin returned to her, smiling. He leaned over the bed. Brushing the hair back from her shoulders, he pressed his lips to her soft, swollen mouth. He curled his hands into fists to keep from touching her further as he backed away, grabbing his sword belt. He reached the door and turned back to look at her, his gaze dropping lower to see her shape beneath the furs. “Do not worry, sweet one. I am not leaving you behind.”
Chessa watched him disappear into the darkness. She fought back the confusing emotions rising in her throat. Surely he would keep his word. Unless somehow he thought she hadn’t kept hers? She braced her back against the wall, watching the wooden door, waiting. But uncertainty wouldn’t let her be.
After all, she hardly knew him, had never dared speak a word to him before this night. Had she been foolish to make this bargain?
Or perhaps he’d left because she’d failed to please him. She knew so little about coupling with a man. His mother had taught her to hurry from the hall when the mead began to pour into cups the second time around….
Maybe Bodin had expected her to know more. She closed her eyes, swiping away the tears. She didn’t want to cry anymore. Chessa wrapped the fur tighter around her naked body and eased to the edge of the bed. Outside, the village sat quiet, too quiet. The usual hurry of activity before a ship set sail was gone. She went to the door, pulling it open enough to peek out.
Moonlight blanketed the dark night, a bright white light that softened everything it touched. A cool breeze blew in her face. She scooted behind the door to keep hidden as a few men walked past carrying barrels and trunks toward the shore.
But no Bodin.
Chessa gathered up the bottom of the blanket so it did not drag on the ground and stepped out of Bodin’s quarters. Her bare feet padded softly along the well-worn dirt path until she reached the hall. Stopping, she
peeked inside. Everyone had gone.
She looked toward the shore. Moonlight gleamed on the surface of the water, sparkling as it broke into countless fragments. No ship.
A wave of sickness rose up from her stomach to lodge in her throat. She nearly choked on the bitter bile. One step and then two and three…she ran toward the shore. How could she have been so foolish? As she stopped on the soft sand, her hands balled into fists, gripping the blanket tight around her. She went to her knees. He’d said he wouldn’t leave her….
“Well, well,” a slurred male voice spoke from behind, “what’ve we here?”
Chessa gasped. She hadn’t heard anyone approach. Sucking back tears and anguish, she struggled to stand, the ends of the blanket tangling under her feet.
A visibly drunken, burley Viking grabbed ahold of her arm, pulling her near. “Just what every man needs the night before a long voyage.” His hand went to his laces.
“No.” Chessa tugged against his grip. “I—I’m under the protection of—”
“I know who you are, and you’ve been released from Kaol’s service,” he sneered. “Don’t try to lie your way out of this.” His grip tightened, and he shook her.
“No, not—ow!”
“Release her!” Bodin’s knife gleamed liquid silver, reflecting the moonlight as the blade pressed against the man’s thick neck.
Turned loose with a shove, Chessa stumbled backward. She stood there, stunned. Not believing her eyes, she turned to look out at the water again. If Bodin hadn’t left, where was his ship….
“She holds my protection now, Gavit,” Bodin seethed, pushing the man away. “Do not forget that.” The man held up his hands in capitulation as he grumbled, lowering his gaze as he went on his way.
Trembling, Chessa hurried to Bodin. She wrapped one arm around his waist as she held on to him, squeezing tight. Fear and relief bubbled up through her, dampening her eyes. He hadn’t left her behind. She buried her face in his shirt. He hadn’t.
Bodin’s hand went to her back. “What are you doing out here, sweet one?” He slipped his knife back into the sheath at his belt and pried her arm loose. “Answer me, Chessa.” He held her away from him. “Why are you here?”
Emotion clogged her throat. “I—I thought…you’d left me—”
He gave her a sharp shake. “I told you I would not leave you behind.” Bodin gritted his teeth, staring at her. He pulled her to his chest, eyes closed in a silent prayer.
Chessa closed her eyes and buried her face against him. He smelled of wood smoke and sweat. She could stay like this forever, safe.
Bodin forced her back, a full arm’s length away this time. And the distance hurt more than his rough-handed hold.
“Chessa, you must trust me.” He looked her over. His grip tightened as he wiped the sweat from his upper lip onto the sleeve of his tunic. With a sigh, he spoke. “Tell me, did Gavit hurt you?”
The wind kicked up, whipping her hair into her face. She shook her head.
“Where did he touch you?”
The rise of anger in his voice made her cringe, and she tried to pull away.
“Where!” He gave her a quick shake.
“My—my arm.”
“Where else!”
Chessa tried to brush the hair from her face, to look at him, but his grip on her prevented it. So she shook her head again. “Just my arm.”
Bodin released her with a sigh. “By the gods, Chessa.” He turned away for a moment and took a deep breath, running the back of his hand against his mouth. He spun back around to face her. “Do you understand what almost—what Gavit was about to…” His hand rubbed over his face. Under his breath, he cursed. “Of course you don’t.”
Fighting to get the mass of hair out of her face, Chessa wrapped the fur tighter about her body and faced the bay, letting the wind dry her eyes.
Bodin turned her so she faced him, and he brushed the back of his hand over her cheek and then ran the tip of his finger around the curve of her ear and along her jawbone. He tilted her chin upward. Clouds began to slip in on the ocean wind, defying the moonlight with shadows. He could not see into her eyes. “You have to trust me, Chessa. I will not break my promise to you. I will see your feet back on the soil of your birth. That is our bargain.” His voice dropped, a low whisper. “But—”
“You don’t have to say it.” Chessa stepped back from him. “And I do know what, what Gavit…” The consequences of her actions began to settle in, and she turned away, looking back across the bay, unable to speak the rest of her words. The moon had begun to retreat, the light losing its foothold.
“Chessa…”
His voice conveyed disappointment. She hadn’t pleased him after all. Would he tell her he’d changed his mind about their bargain? Board his ship and sail without her?
“Sweet one, on a ship of men, a slave—a female slave is considered…” Bodin pressed his lips into a thin line. He couldn’t speak the rest, couldn’t tell her his men would think her entertainment. He saw her tremble at his words and reached for her, his hands rubbing up and down her arms. “Then you do remember.”
She nodded. So many of her people had come to this village. But only she remained now.
“I’m sorry for that,” he whispered. “Father took great pains to protect you. I guess,” he sighed, “I guess he did not do as good a job as I thought.” He turned her to face him. “Come.”
Keeping ahold of her arm, he led her toward the woods. At the base of a tree, in the blackness of wooded shadows, he retrieved a bundle. “My ship is in the next cove. It is too large to keep aground here,” he explained, guiding her along the path back to his quarters. He stopped short. Stepping in front of her, he narrowed his gaze, seeking to read her face before the clouds drifted fully across the moon. “Chessa…” He paused for a moment. “I only left right after I bedded you because—”
She jerked away, turning to look at the last slivers of moonlight grappling for the ground. She couldn’t bear to hear him voice words of dissatisfaction. “I will do better, I promise!” Confusion wrapped around her insides, a knot so tight she could hardly breathe. She had not expected to find his needs so tied to her own. Or such an unraveling of things in her mind. What had she done by making this bargain?
“Chessa.” Bodin sighed, shaking his head. “You did not—”
“Sir!” A male voice carried across the quiet village. “Sir.” Booted footfalls hurried toward them in the dark.
Bodin closed his eyes, dropping his head for just a moment. A growling sigh forced its way through his gritted teeth. “Go inside.” He tightened his grip on Chessa’s arm to strengthen the seriousness of his words. “And stay there this time.”
Chessa looked up at him. The concern in his eyes somewhat eased her doubts over this bargain, but still…she had clearly done something wrong, failed his needs somehow.
Her fingers caught ahold of his tunic.
“I will be inside in a moment.” He saw her lingering worry. “Chessa, I will not leave my quarters without you again. I promise.” He glanced over his shoulder as the soldier approached.
“Sir.” The young man neared, panting as he slowed his approaching pace. “It’s your father, he—”
Bodin held up his hand to silence the young man. He turned back to Chessa, handing her the tightly bound bundle. He pulled the knife from his waist and set it on top. “Take this.” He lowered his voice. “You will find something new to wear inside. Dress.” He forced her through the door, securing it closed behind her.
Chessa stood just inside Bodin’s quarters, staring at the large dagger balanced on top of the bundle he’d given her. Never had she been allowed possession of a knife before. Not even a small one to use for eating. Slaves weren’t to be trusted. Ever.
She looked back at the door. Muffled voices came from the other side. With her eyes fixed on the sharp blade just inches below her face, she walked over to his bed and carefully set down the entire pile.
Was he testing
her or trusting her?
She pulled the blanket wrapped about her bare body a little tighter and held both ends with one hand. Loud, indistinguishable voices rumbled outside. She glanced back at the door. Swallowing her worry, she touched the dagger just below the blade, running her finger tentatively down the length of the carved handle. It was still warm from his touch. He had said to dress—
Thump. A ruckus erupted outside and startled Chessa from her worries. She dropped one corner of the fur blanket covering her. Dress. He’d said to dress. Chessa set the heavy knife off to the side and tried to untie the tightly knotted strings but couldn’t get them free. She glanced back to the knife. Had he given it to her to use?
Thump. Something hard slammed into the heavy door again. She had to hurry. Careful to slice into only the string, she freed the bundle and unwound the roll of heavy fabric. Folded inside a thick cloak, she found a finely woven linen bed gown. She hadn’t seen one since she’d been taken from her home.
She held it to her cheek. The fabric was smooth and soft. And not worn in the least. She measured the fit of the garment against her body. Perfect.
Slam. Chessa jumped. She rushed to gather her everyday clothes from the floor beside the tub. No sooner had she pinned the work apron over the heavy wool gown, the wood holding the metal latch splintered. The door crashed open.
Bodin and his father stumbled inside. A knife hovered between them.
5
“C hessa!” Bodin shouted. “My dagger!” He and his father grunted with effort as they staggered about in the room—first one in control and then the other.
“Chessa!”
She jumped at the repeated command and turned to the bed, shoving the cloak out of the way. Both hands grabbed the heavy weapon, holding it out in front of her. She watched, wide-eyed as Bodin and his father continued to grapple with one another for control of the sharp blade that wavered between them. Their fight brought them almost within reach of her.
Pleasure of His Bed Page 19