VIKING THRALL (Historical Romance, Medieval, Viking) (2 page)

              The first time anyway.

              His shaft was hard as a rock just from the feel of her soft bottom against his loins. He leaned down to inhale the beguiling scent of her hair. He focused on the road while his body urged him to explore her with his hands.

              He was about to when he heard the soft sniffling sound.

              His new thrall was crying.

Two

              Esme stared blindly at the road in front of them. She could not believe this had happened to her. The worst part was, it was all her fault.

              Foolish, impulsive Esme just had to roll out the barrel of wine for the Viking marauders. True, they had been remarkably polite for Vikings. But she was to blame for this debacle.

              She shifted in the saddle, trying to move away from the sharp object pressing into her lower back. Immediately the arm around her waist tightened, pulling  her back into contact with his hard chest and his sword.

              "Be still."

              "You sword is poking me!"

              He laughed. He was abducting her, poking her and now mocking her.

              It was the final insult.

              "Tis not my sword, thrall."

              Without thinking Esme threw her weight to the side, rolling off the horse to land painfully on her side.

              "Oof!"

              She rolled to her knees and pushed against her wrapped fists to stand. Then she ran. Of course, his horse easily kept pace with her. In essence they were running down the road together, gaining her no hope of freedom. She stopped abruptly and darted into the woods, heading back the way they had came.

              That would show him!

              In another instant the neck of her tunic was yanked backwards. She was ready to scream in frustration when she saw the look on the Viking leader's face.

              He looked amused.

              This was her life and he was amused.

              As if she were a kitten and he was enjoying her antics.

              "Odin's blood woman! What do you think you are doing?"

              She glared up at him angrily.

              "Escaping you! And your foul plans!"

              The giant looming over her sighed deeply as if she were dim witted. She scowled at him and stamped her foot onto his, hard.

              He roared.

              Esme had the good sense to step backwards with alarm. Mayhap she still had a chance to escape! She turned to run with every ounce of strength she had. Except she hadn't counted on the tree root growing just behind her. She fell backwards toward who knows what, fully expecting to injure herself grievously.

              But she never hit the ground.

              Esme blinked, staring up at harsh lines of the Viking's face. His blue eyes blazed with contempt and something else...

             
Lust.

              By the old ones, he lusted for her in truth!

              Esme had little experience with people from outside the walls of the orphanage and even less so with men. But she knew that the heated look in his gaze was a danger to her. She shook her head frantically.

              "No, don't!"

              He was holding her body against his where he still bent to catch her. His eyes were on her lips. His lids were heavy. He looked as if he might go to sleep at any moment.

              "Don't what?"

              "Whatever it is you are thinking of doing!"

              He smiled suddenly and straightened up, bringing her with him.

              And then he put his mouth on to hers.

              Esme felt herself go limp at the intimacy of the act.

              His lips were soft for such a large, hard man. She gasped at the strange sensation. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, truth be told…

              He lifted his head and frowned at her.

              "Haven't you ever been kissed before girl?"

              "Esme."

              "What?"

              She had a strong suspicion that she was going to cry again. She lifted her chin, refusing to give into her tears.

              "My name is Esme."

              "Well Esme, you are a terrible kisser."

              "How dare you! I am a virgin! How am I supposed to be good at-"

              He grinned at her suddenly.

              "A virgin eh?"

              Now it was her turn to frown.

              "You might tell me your name. Now that you've accosted me!"

              He smiled at her in amusement. Then he threw her over his shoulder.

              "My name is Magnus. But you can call me Master."

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              Magnus loaded his woman onto the longship, well pleased with this days effort. His men were carrying all the other spoils of their raid onto the ship. But Magnus merely found a convenient spot and plopped the woman down in it.

              He leaned down and offered her a sip from his wineskin.

              "Here, drink."

              She glowered at him, turning her face away.

              "I want nothing from you, you brute."

              He took a long swig from the skin.

              "'Tis good. You need sustenance for the long journey ahead."

              The girl glanced at him, meeting his eyes for a second. The fear he saw there was nothing new, everyone who met him was afraid. But for some reason it bothered him.

              "Here, drink. I will find you some bread. And Esme, I won't hurt you."

              She narrowed her eyes at him, allowing him to tip the wine skin against her lips. He watched hungrily as she suckled the teat. He could think of a hundred things to do with that mouth.

              And by Odin, he would try them all before long.

              Once she wasn't afraid of him anymore.

              He stood and turned to find some of the fresh bread they had taken from the orphanage.

              "Why won't you?"

              "What?"

              "Why won't you hurt me?"

              He squatted again, running his hand over her silky hair.

              "You have much value to me. I would never waste beauty such as yours."

              Her eyes widened. She looked shocked. The girl had no idea of her beauty he realized. Somehow that made her all the more enticing.

              "Be still, I will get you something to eat."

Three

              Esme groaned as the ship rocked wildly in the storm. The weather had turned foul almost as soon as they'd left the shore. It felt like days since her feet had touched solid ground though she knew it was only half of one day at most. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably inside her.

              Thankfully she'd only eaten a few bites of bread now and then so she had nothing to throw up!

              Magnus had made her eat something every few hours and have a few sips of wine. She found his hovering annoying until she realized that he was making sure none of the other warriors bothered her. From what little she understood of their language, she was very glad that he was her protector, and not any of the others!

              The head Viking had cared for her tenderly throughout the journey. Still, it did not change the fact that he thought to make her his slave. And not just any kind of slave. His personal thrall, serving him in bed and out. He'd been explicit about that.

              Not that she really understood what that meant.

              She did know that she got a thrill when he looked at her in that special way… as if he was very hungry, but only a taste of his thrall would do.

              Even if she did find him appealing in some ways, that was beside the point! It was not fair what the Vikings had done! She was bound and determined to escape him and return to the other side of the sea.

              How she would do that exactly she was not sure. It seemed insurmountable at the moment. But she was nothing if not determined.

              And in the meantime, she'd just have to convince him that she was put to far better uses than 'entertaining his manhood' or 'warming his furs' as he kept bringing up.

              It was extremely vexing to say the least!

              "Land!"

              She squinted in the rain, looking toward where the men were pointing.

              Up ahead a rocky cliff loomed over the shore with not a tree or bush in sight. She shivered. If the land were this inhospitable, what sort of men lived there?

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              Magnus wrapped his cloak around the sodden woman shivering in his lap. He was concerned about the state of his new slave. In fact, he was downright worried. He had yet to enjoy her yet and didn't want her catching an ague.

              Aye, that was the cause for his concern.

              "Will you cease that chattering woman."

              She mumbled something incoherent. He frowned and leaned over her.

              "What was that?"

              "I said that I ca-ca-can not!"

              "Oh. Well you'll be warm soon enough. I'll see to that."

              Warm, naked and in his bed. He could just see it now, her silky legs wrapped around him as he pumped in and out of her sweet hole again and again...

              His loins tightened and he groaned. Her pale face turned up to him. The rain made her hair look pitch black. The effect was strangely arousing. If only she would cease her trembling. He'd soon make her tremble with pleasure at his touch instead.

              "What did you say?"

              "Nothing. Be still slave."

              Her eyes widened with indignation. He chuckled. She would learn to accept her new status soon enough. Once he'd had her a dozen times or so, she'd learn to crave his touch. He'd see to it.

              Just then the longhouse appeared in the mist.

              "Ah, here we are."

              "This is where you live? 'Tis enormous!"

              "As headsman I live with my unmarried warriors. Which is more or less, all of them."

              "It sounds dreadful!"

              He frowned.

              "We do not find it so. Now be silent!"

              He pulled her roughly off his horse, allowing one of the lesser warriors to see to the animal. Blackfoot was a prize stallion and would be coddled accordingly. He even had his own place against the building where he was kept out of the rain. He also had his pick of the mares to breed.

              As would Magnus himself!

              He pushed the door open and servants began scurrying about, offering him food and drink.

              "Bring it to my chamber! And prepare the baths. I would use it alone."

              Twas unheard of for someone to use the baths alone. But he was their leader and no one would gainsay him. Besides, he would not be alone. He would have his new thrall to wash his back for him.

              Not to mention other, more sensitive places.

              "You will sleep in here with me."

              He pushed the curtain aside to reveal a large sleeping alcove with it's own fire place. It was quite luxurious.

              "You expect me to sleep with just a curtain between me and them?"

              "Between us and them. And aye, you will sleep wherever you are told. Now take off your dress, I would have a look at you."

              "I will not!"

              "Aye, you will!"

              Her mouth opened to protest and he held his hand up.

              "I will not ravage you woman, but you will never get dry unless you strip!"