A moan exhaled from her chest, the air puffing from lips. Her hips began to writhe, her dream more real than she realized. Her tongue skated across her lips as she worked to form words in her sleep.
He leaned forward, bracing his body over hers with one hand to whisper in her ear while he continued to stroke and tease her. “That’s right, sweet one. Say my name,” Bodin urged, skimming his fingers along the opening of her slick sex but not giving in to what she so obviously needed. “Yes, say it,” he urged on an exhaled whisper. “Cry out my name….”
Chessa’s back arched again, seeking more of him. A sobbing whimper accompanied her insistent squirming.
Bodin kept his touch light and haunting. Every muscle in his body yearned to give in and slide deep inside her hot sex. “Call my name, sweet one.” He heard the echo of urgent need rasp through his own voice. “Let me hear the sounds cross your lips.”
Her frustration grew, her body struggling to obey him in her dreamy arousal. Through pursed lips, another moan coursed through her body as she arched and wormed and struggled, pulling against the restraints to gain more of his touch.
Her bottom wiggled, wanting, just beneath his straining cock, her need torturous to him. If she didn’t say his name soon, his heart would surely explode from the confines of his chest. He took his cock in hand and dragged the tip through her wet curls, readying them both. Dropping his head next to her ear, he rasped, “Beg for me, Chessa.”
Her body arched, needing. “B—Bodin—”
Panting, his chest constricted. He drove the full length of his cock into her heated sex. One arm wrapped around her waist, rocking her hips with his as he pressed against her womb.
Chessa gasped awake, eyes wide and body burning for more. Confused, she tried to make sense of what was happening, but her body was already well aware and demanding more. Bodin rocked his hips into hers again, burying his shaft deep inside, and she needed no further explanation.
She wanted to reach for him, touch him, but her hands were stretched out in front of her, bound. She had no way to encourage more from him. “Bodin…”
He braced his weight on one hand and leaned over her stretched, straining body, sweeping her hair out of his way. “Yes, sweet one?” One hand slid over her hip to her waist and down until he reached her swaying breast; the soft, fleshy mound more than filled his hand as he cupped and squeezed. “Do you need something?”
“Bodin, plea—ahhh—” He pinched her yearning nipple, sending a burst of fire down to her belly to further fuel the need pulsing between her spread thighs. She wanted his hand to follow the same path, to cup the place between her legs that would send her into blinding pleasure.
“Please what?” he panted in her ear, holding himself motionless and fully encased deep in her small, straining body.
Her chest heaved as she tried to speak, his fingers still poised at her nipple. She knew as soon as she spoke, he would send that fire burning through her body again. “Touch me….” He pinched again, and her body burned.
“But I am touching you.”
“Not there. Please…”
He chuckled, his breath soft and warm on her ear.
Bodin moved the hand he’d been using to keep the bulk of his weight from crushing her and cupped her other breast, pinching the swollen nipple it so willingly offered. “There?” Her head shook in answer, and her breathing picked up, the muscles of her sex tightening around his cock.
“No, Bodin—”
“Where, sweet one, where do you wish for me to touch?”
Her body throbbed and clenched, seeking the relief he refused to allow. “Between my legs….”
“You have grown bold, sweet one. And I find that most pleasing, but this bargain is about me, remember? I will let you know when such boldness is what I wish.” His hand moved to the base of her throat, turning her head, stretching her neck so her lips met his mouth as he pulled his cock from her heat.
Just as she cried out in protest, he claimed her mouth and rammed his shaft back inside, striking her womb.
Chessa’s legs trembled, spread wide and holding herself open for him. Never had she known such need, such want. And he was right. As his slave, it was not her place to ask for pleasure; she was meant to give it.
His hand moved to her belly, fingers skimming, teasing the patch of coarse curls before spreading across the flat plain, digging into the soft flesh. “How is this?” he taunted.
Just the proximity of his hand so near the crux of her need sent spasms of want through her belly. Chessa bit her lower lip and nodded.
“You would not lie to me now, would you, sweet one?” He dipped his fingers deeper into her moist nest but did not go low enough to touch her where she needed him most.
The throbbing between her thighs intensified. Chessa could hardly breathe, hovering on a knife’s edge of pleasure. His shaft filled every inch of her insides, and her muscles contracted around the girth of him of their own volition, urging him to move, to satisfy.
“That will not work this time, Chessa. I’ve seen to that.”
“What do you—”
“I am not ready to spend. I want to hear you cry out my name,” Bodin informed as he moved back to his knees, pulling all but the head his cock out. “And you will cry out my name, over and over, Chessa. Before you have your release.”
He began to rock forward and backward, stroking his shaft into her in small increments—tiny tastes of the blinding pleasure he commanded. Chessa’s thoughts swirled behind her eyes. She cared not for anything, would promise him anything if he would only permit her just that one touch, that one moment of searing relief. Her arms and shoulders trembled, having strained so long against the soft cloth binding them.
Bodin pulled his cock completely out, taking a few moments to let the cool air ease his ardor.
She ached inside, empty without the full length and breadth of him filling her. Chessa began to sob. Being devoid of him, robbed of any form of touch from him, sent her into a desperate spiral. “Bodin, I beg you! Please don’t make me suffer so.” She tried to see him from over her shoulder. “Bodin!” Her voice broke.
His name, begged from her lips with such desperation, shredded his willpower. He bore deep into her, filling her in a single, effortless stroke.
Chessa convulsed from the inside out, a white light filling her head as her body gripped tight around him. His hands dug painfully into the flesh of her hips, holding her body to his. But all too soon he left her again, his seed hot and thick and splashing against the inside of her leg.
Stiff and strained, her muscles wouldn’t move. She rested her forehead in the furs, gasping. Her body couldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t even flinch as Bodin used a damp rag to clean his spendings from her thighs.
He reached around the front of her and released her wrists from the noose.
Chessa closed her eyes as he eased one of her arms down to her side and rolled her onto her back. His fingers skimmed over the slope of her cheeks, brushing the hair from her flushed face. Her skin rippled as a tingle of anticipation betrayed her. He was not done with her yet.
A wicked smile curved his lips. “You are right about that, sweet one,” he confirmed.
She shook her head. “I—I couldn’t possibly. It’s not—” He pressed his finger to her lips.
“Do not be contentious with me.”
She tried to speak anyway, but his mouth claimed her words as his hand did the same to her aching, neglected breast. She couldn’t help but moan. Fuel for his fire.
Bodin shifted his body, planting first one knee and then the other between her still quivering thighs. He broke the kiss. “I have not heard my name begged from your lips enough times yet this morn, Chessa.”
He suckled one taut nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving and teasing as she arched beneath him. He released it and blew a cooling breath over her warm flesh. “I will have every inch there is of you, as was our deal.” He turned his attention to her other breast, affordin
g the sweet, soft mound the same attention he’d lavished on the other.
Chessa’s fingers threaded through his thick hair as her shoulders lifted off the furs, offering herself up as sacrifice. Yes, he owned her, as well and as truly as though he’d bought and paid for her. And that had been her free choice. But now it had gone further than that. Now he possessed everything that was her, everything that made her who and what she was.
And his command was absolute. She inhaled a fractured breath. He ruled her, body and soul. Master. She trembled as his tongue laved her sensitized skin. And the thought of leaving him stung her heart and filled her eyes with tears.
Bodin would not allow her mind to wander. He dipped his tongue into her navel, swirling circles, bringing her thoughts back to her body. And to him. His teeth grazed a line the rest of the way down her belly.
Chessa gasped.
“Keep your hands at your sides.” Bodin ordered, pushing her thighs open wider. “Do not disobey me.”
“What are you…” His mouth closed over her exposed center as his tongue answered her question. No discussion. No argument.
Chessa body all but levitated as she gripped the fur blanket in her fists. Her body alternately seized and writhed at the intimate invasion, pleasure scalding her cheeks, the very air she needed to survive deserting her.
And so Bodin’s lesson began. A necessary chastisement of what it meant to live under his command, his rule, in the searing permanency of his soul.
10
T he sun steamed the fallen rain from everything, returning the moisture to the clouds. Chessa inhaled the heavy air. “Bodin?” She rolled onto her back, relishing the soft, warm furs layered beneath her, blinking to adjust her eyes to the light. Her body tingled, her mind racing to delicious and improper thoughts of what Bodin had done, of where he’d spent so long kissing her. And how much she’d enjoyed his attention.
“Awake now, are you?” He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, a wide grin showing straight, white teeth.
Her cheeks burned at the blatant enjoyment on his face. She clutched the blanket to her chest as she reached for her bed gown and cloak.
“We have a little more time; the tide has not filled the bay yet.” Done with his laces, he knelt beside her, his hand cupping the back of her head as he studied her face. His eyes settled on her full lips. “You obeyed well,” he whispered.
Chessa closed her eyes as his breath washed across her cheek, moving from her ear to her mouth. Her breasts swelled in anticipation, her body arching, offering.
He smiled and pressed a series of soft, tender kisses to her mouth before slipping his tongue past her teeth, exploring her mouth.
She couldn’t help but recall how his tongue had felt lower, between her thighs, doing the very same things. Her nipples hardened, the breath catching in her throat.
Bodin pulled back, admiring her ready response. He tugged away the fur blanket covering her.
Chessa sighed as his warm hand cupped one breast, calloused thumb scraping the raised nipple that betrayed her thoughts. Her body, still raw with the needs he’d so easily brought forth, was still more than willing to submit to his every demand. To revel in it. Her hand went to his wrist, urging his touch lower.
“No, not so soon.” A pleased chuckle accompanied his words. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he added, “Besides, there won’t be enough time before the tide to do what I have in mind.”
Still, she pulled his hand to her belly, wanting but not brave enough to speak the words and ask. Her other hand went to his thigh and upward.
Bodin halted the progress of her fingers and pulled her to his chest, nuzzling her neck as she clung naked to him. “Later, I promise.” He gave her another soft kiss and released her. “Right now I have a job for you. So dress.” He moved to the rear of the tent and dropped to one knee beside a leather bag of supplies, searching through the contents.
Chessa quickly slipped her arms through the linen bed gown, pulling the bodice over her aching breasts. She struggled to shift the material and smooth out the bunched front, but for some reason it was snug up top, almost too tight.
As she draped the cloak over her shoulders, Bodin took the brooch from her hands to fasten the clasp himself. “Here.” He handed her a small pouch. “By the trees are raspberry bushes. Pick some for us.”
Chessa frowned.
“Don’t you like raspberries?” he asked.
“Yes.” She looked down. “Very much, but…”
“But what?” He lifted her chin.
“I’ve never been allowed—”
“I will say what is or is not allowed.” He grinned. “Besides, I have a particular use in mind for them.” Bodin turned her toward the tent flap. “So do as you’re told.”
Conceding to his orders, she bent to exit through the tent flap.
Bodin swatted her backside with a firm strike.
“Oh!” Chessa squeaked in surprise.
“But stay where I can see you!” he called to her back.
Chessa stepped into the fresh morning air just beginning to warm from the sunshine. She drew her fingers through her hair, pulling the raucous mess out of her face.
Berry bushes formed a barrier around most of their private encampment. She started toward the nearest one. Picking the first plump, red berry she saw, she turned it between her fingers. What use could he possibly have in mind for them other than eating? A shiver rippled down her spine, spreading through the rest of her in waves. She glanced back at the tent. He was watching.
Chessa smiled and turned back to her task, gathering each berry within reach. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder again a few minutes later. But he’d returned inside the tent to pack.
Determined to surprise Bodin, she ignored the prickly thorns and picked as many berries as she could. With such abundance, the bag was full in no time. She cinched the drawstring closed and then sucked her fingertips clean of the sweet juice from the overripe berries. Chessa turned and froze. She hadn’t heard anyone approach.
Erek stood there between her and the tent. Between her and Bodin. He grinned, leering at her. An odd look crossed his face as he licked his lips. His hand slipped inside the front of his trousers and moved up and down.
Her grip on the small bag of berries tightened as her heart raced in her chest. She glanced down to make certain the cloak covered her and then inched backward as far as the thorned bushes would allow. The sharp sounds of calling birds began to fade behind the loud pounding of her heart.
Erek took a step toward her.
The side of Chessa’s foot struck a rock as she tried to scramble out of his reach. She yelled out. Flocks of birds launched from their perches in a winged rush to take to the sky as she landed hard on the damp ground. From the corner of her eye, a hand reached for her, and she cringed.
The hand touched her shoulder. “No!”
“Chessa,” Bodin scolded. “Calm yourself. What is the matter, are you hurt?”
She looked over his shoulder. Half a dozen men stood beside the rained-out fire pit, watching.
The small crowd of men stood waiting, Erek prominent among them.
Bodin cupped her chin and forced her to face him. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he pressed for an answer again. “Chessa, what upsets you so?”
She shook her head. “I—I was startled. They startled me.” She glanced at Erek again and swallowed. Would he have hurt her, or…
“Come.” Bodin lifted her from the ground, handing her back the bag of berries. Keeping himself between her and the small party of men, he escorted her back to the tent and pushed open the flap. “Wait for me.”
Chessa’s heart still pounded as her eyes misted with tears. She would never be safe among them. Kaol must have had tremendous influence to have kept them from her in the past. But wanting to stay with Bodin, even as nothing more than a slave he used to warm his bed, would never work. She’d never be safe outside of his presence. And just how long would they tolerate
his presence?
The men stepped away from the tent, their voices deep and muffled as they spoke. She wiped away the tears that moistened her cheeks, and she knelt beside the bed furs, folding and stacking them neatly together.
A pair of heavy boots tromped beside the canvas walls of the tent. The flap opened. Bodin entered, a scowl etched deep into the features of his face.
The moment she saw him, all her anguish and turmoil bubbled to the surface. And quiet tears became sobs.
He knelt beside her, silent.
Chessa threw her arms around him and cried. How could this have happened? When had it happened? Her arms tightened around his waist, tears soaking into the rough fabric of his shirt. She loved him.
Bodin wrapped his arms around her, comforting her. “Are you certain you are not hurt?”
Chessa nodded against his warm chest, her fear fading. Here in his arms, she was safe. Here, alone with him, she was happy.
He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her arms from around him. “I must pack, sweet one.” He kissed the backs of her hands. “The tide fills the bay as we speak.”
Reluctant to let go, she nodded as Bodin stood, already moving to the back of the tent, gathering things as he went.
If only the storm had raged for weeks instead of hours, there would be more time with him. She looked at his broad shoulders. His body was far too large for this tent. He filled the whole of the space, the whole of her heart. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. If she wasn’t a slave, his slave, then maybe she could tell him she loved him. And maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.
Chessa wiped her cheeks dry, blinking back the threat of more tears. Crying would not change a Viking man’s mind. She’d learned that lesson as a child. And as before when she was just a girl, she had a duty to fulfill. She had to return home to her people, to her family. What she wanted didn’t matter.
A shadow flickered across the side of the tent. “Ahem.” Outside one of the men alerted them to his presence.
She straightened, her stomach coiling into a knot. She recognized the shadow.
Pleasure of His Bed Page 23