Cum For The Viking 4 (The Sins of the Virgins) Page 3

  You’ll enjoy him as much as Finn.

  Shush!

  Or Thorod. You do remember him, don’t you?

  Oh, be quiet!

  My conscience was becoming a problem, and, if I were to fully enjoy this night, I would have to find a way to shut it off. He drank while watching me, heat flaring in his look. My fingers began to tremble, as I slowly undid the dress, taking my time to pull each arm from the tight-fitting sleeve. Before my chest was revealed, I snatched the pins from my hair, letting the blonde tresses fall around me. They would provide a barrier to that licentious gaze. I then lowered the gown, revealing white shoulders.

  “Who have you been with?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been seduced. I want to know who’s had the pleasure of taking your maidenhead?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “How is it that you’re unprotected? Who would leave you behind?”

  After Finn’s affections had turned to ice, it had left me questioning myself, and many doubts had been revealed. I had wondered if I were not attractive enough for him or not skilled enough in bed. Then I had chastised myself for even thinking these things, but I was plagued by insecurities.

  “You’re not going to answer me, are you? Who were you with?”

  “Someone who didn’t want me after a few days. You’re wasting your time here, but you seem determined. I shall bore you shortly, Viking King.”

  His features hardened, his eyes blazing. Grasping my arms, he dragged me to him. “I’m not in the habit of being gainsaid. When I ask a question, I demand an answer.”

  We were so close I could see the tiny flecks of blue in his eyes. “It’s not my proudest moment, sir. I don’t wish to discuss it.”

  “There are only two people in this room, Charlotte. What you tell me, I’ll take to the grave.”

  “My sister and I were taken by Finn Vapnfjord.”

  “He’s known to be temperamental, but he’s an excellent warrior. He’s one of the bravest men I’ve ever encountered.” His appraisal was astute. “You were slighted then? Used and discarded?”

  I stared at his chest. “Yes.”

  “His loss is my gain.”

  “You don’t even know me. All you see is a helpless female. I’m nothing but a toy to you. I truly do wish my husband would return. I deserve far more than being passed around like the village tramp.”

  “Yes, you do. Someone should bed you properly every night. Starting now.”

  His lips covered mine; the gentleness of the approach left me clinging to him, mortified that I had given in so easily. My arms snaked around his neck, while my fingers drove through silky strands of thick hair. He crushed me to him, the heat of our bodies igniting into sensual pleasure. His tongue softly invaded my mouth, his breath laced with the hint of mead. I truly wished I had the strength to push him away, but I was incredibly weak where men were concerned. Then again, this was an invasion, and I was a hostage to a Danish king; therefore, wouldn’t my sins be forgiven? This predicament was hardly my fault. None of the other women in the village wanted to mate with the heathens. I certainly didn’t. We were all…victims.

  He dragged me onto his lap. My pussy, which had dampened alarmingly, sat directly over the hardened expanse of his cock. I could scarcely claim to be innocent, considering the debauchery I had partaken in during the last few days. My body hummed with arousal, my tummy turning over in pleasurable little flip-flops.

  “Oh…no…”

  Laughter rumbled in his chest. “You needn’t pretend, Charlotte. Once the bedchamber doors are closed, a woman has the right to take what she wants.” His hands drifted down my sides, his fingers roaming over the curve of my buttocks. He lifted his hips, pressing his cock into my quivering core.

  I bit my lip, hiding my face in his neck, and knowing that I was only seconds away from having him. I tingled wherever he touched me, my body craving even more of what he offered. My flesh knew what pleasure was. I wouldn’t be able to deny myself, even if I wanted to.

  “Bad…Viking king.”

  “Ummm…”

  Our lips met, tongues engaging in a slinky battle, while his hands massaged my buttocks. He pressed upwards repeatedly, inflaming my sensitive nub with the length of his cock. I’d made him wet with my juices, as my hips moved, meeting him thrust for thrust. The feeling was so exquisite, I moaned against his neck.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “You know what you want…but,” he pushed me from him gently, “I’ve a need to taste you, my flaxen-haired angel.”

  I found myself on my back, staring at the stranger who had invaded my country. I wasn’t Lady Abbot Colby at the moment. My body buzzed with need, my pussy throbbing, leaving the inner portions of my thighs wet. Tonight I was a woman, and what I needed at that moment was this man. He was more than ready to pleasure me, and I was eager to receive every inch of him.

  “What are your plans, Viking?”

  “Randver,” he purred. “Call me Randver.”

  There was something in his eye, in the look of rapture on his face that made me fearless. I sensed the power I had over him in that moment, and it left me tensing with expectation. My pale, smooth thighs spread for him, while I ran a hand down my belly, sliding a finger over my blonde thatch.

  “Is this what you want, Randver?” I was mildly surprised by the sultry tone in my voice.

  The light from the fire gave him a golden glow. “Now that’s more like it. I’m going to taste you, little lass. Open yourself for me.”

  I separated the soft lips of my labia, exposing myself. “Like this?”

  “Yes,” he growled, dropping between my knees, and burying his face in my pussy.

  “Oh!” I flung my head back, gasping with anticipation. “Oh, yes…”

  The soft tip of his tongue speared me, leaving me tingling and aching, while his thumb grazed the protrusion of my clitoris. He settled between my thighs, his mouth covering me, while he sucked gently, pleasuring me intimately.

  My fingers threaded through his hair, while I lifted my hips, pressing myself into him. “Oooohhh…yes…”

  While the fire crackled and snapped, my Viking lover attended to my needs, laving and exploring, inflaming me with each stroke, and leaving me begging for more. I’d lost myself in the moment, drowning in bliss, while the storm gathered within; the approaching orgasm would be upon me far too soon.

  “Wait!” I pushed against him, trying to subdue the feelings that threatened. He had to stop now or it would be too late. I reached for him. “This. Give me this.” My hand closed around the length of his shaft. “I want you in me, but let’s make it wet first.” The audacity of this request should have shocked me, but I burned with wanting him.

  “By all means.” His grin was roguish.

  I took him in my mouth, savoring the musky aroma. I needed him wet and dripping. He slid to the back of my throat, while I grasped his balls, pulling them away from his body. I sucked aggressively, soaking him with saliva.

  “Now. I want you now.”

  He held himself. “Then get on this, sweetheart.”

  I threw a leg over, straddling him, my hair falling around us. “Indeed, Viking scum. I know you’ll please me.” Had I uttered those words? I lowered, impaling myself, as he slid deep. “Oh! This…yes…ooohhh…”

  “Lusty minx.”

  “It’s wonderful.” I flung my head back, gasping, drowning in the pleasure of the moment. I wasn’t a wife or a daughter tonight, nor was I meek or pious. I’d sold my soul for pleasure, as I had when I had been with Finn and Thorod. There would be no turning back now.

  His hands went to my hips. “That’s it, Charlotte. Use me.”

  I rubbed against him, inflaming the tender nub of my clit. His cock felt enormous, stretching me to capacity. He fit snuggly, warmed by the heat of my walls. I grasped at his stomach, kneading the muscles I encountered there. The movement of my hips brought me into repeated contact with him, and each touch set off a fire
storm of mini explosions.

  “Ooohhh…” I would not last much longer. The pleasure was far too intense. I compressed him, throbbing around the object that was responsible for giving me such incredible pleasure. “Oh, Viking…ooohhh…”

  “That’s it, you little devil. Fuck me, Charlotte.”

  “Randver!” I shouted his name, the sound echoing through my ears, while I convulsed helplessly, having obtained release. I collapsed on his chest, my heart pounding against him.

  His arms went around my back. “You look like Aphrodite.”

  “Hum…” I was utterly spent, yet blissfully replete.

  “What shall we do with this?”

  He was shockingly hard inside of me. “What would you like me to do, Viking?”

  Chapter Five

  “Your mouth would be pleasing.”

  That naughty suggestion sent my pulses racing. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, you sweet, English bitch.”

  I scrambled to my knees. I hadn’t been with a man in days, and I was somewhat sore now. My finger touched the glistening tip. “You are rather rigid, aren’t you?”

  “You’ve turned into a tease.”

  I smiled at him through my lashes. “Hardly. You’ve been where only my husband had the right to be. You Vikings have taken everything from me. You can’t have my pride.”

  “My women won’t cower before me. My enemies: yes. My warriors: yes, but not my women.”

  The admiration I felt for him was as heady as the mead I had drunk. I didn’t want to feel this way, but he had inspired me with his words and deeds. Would my husband, if he ever returned, be such a man? My father treated my mother well, although it was clear that he was the ultimate authority in the house, but he never demeaned her or beat her, as some were known to do. This king would treat his queen well…and I was his for the night.

  I stroked him, feeling wetness. “Well, then. Now that the terms have been agreed upon, I could do something with this.” Our eyes met for an impassioned instant, where the air hung like a sultry blanket. “I’ll have a taste, lord King.” He nodded approvingly, and I enjoyed having this small power over him. I closed my lips around the musky head. “Um…”

  “Oh, yes,” he breathed. “That’s a sweet, little girl.”

  I then began to work in earnest, implementing the skills I had attained whilst being…forced to service Finn and his men. I knew exactly what these heathens liked and the naughty effect it would have on me. With every tug, I felt myself tighten and throb, my own excitement growing by the second.

  “That’s good, Charlotte,” he breathed. “Your skills are exemplary.” I would ignore that comment. I licked my way to his balls, which were safely ensconced in my hands. I prodded them with my tongue, leaving streaks of wetness. His fingers drifted over my back and down the curve of my buttocks, where he slid between my thighs. “So wet.”

  “Oommm…” My mouth was full of soft sacs, which I sucked gently.

  “Praise Odin,” he moaned.

  His finger breached me, stroking deeply. It was a struggle to concentrate with the burning and tingling in my pussy. “Oh!” I had meant to finish him, knowing that he would eventually find release, but I craved something else in that instant. I got to my hands and knees, offering my backside. “Could you…please.”

  He was behind me in a flash, grasping my hips and plunging with a solid push. “Aaahhh…”

  I held onto the sheepskin, as he drove aggressively. I was more than ready for him, my muscles aching to be taken in this manner. I’d never felt such a wild and reckless need before, and it was wicked to be like this, but…my yearning for relief far outweighed these scandalous thoughts. I flung my head forward, my hair falling to the rug, while a magnificent cock used me.

  “Yes, my Viking lord! Ooohh…”

  “You’re quite insatiable, aren’t you?” He smacked my cheek.

  “Ouf!” The stinging sensation added to the intensity of my arousal, and, as he hit me again, I shuddered, my body responding to the added stimulus. “Oh, more…oh…God…smite me…for wanting this.”

  His breathing was ragged, his pounding relentless, as he drove against me, slapping his balls into my pussy. The edges of orgasm had already begun to materialize, drawing nearer by the second. There would be nothing I could do to stop it.

  “Tell me you like my Viking cock.”

  “Ooohh…I do…like it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Oh, fuck me, Randver. Take me!”

  But I was already there, my pussy stinging slightly from his size, yet inflamed with desire. The tipping point came a second later, as I screamed. The sound was loud enough to bring the king’s man, Ari, who opened the door, yet, upon seeing us thus engaged, he closed it quickly.

  He slid from me. “You ravenous little slut.”

  His angry-looking cock was before my mouth, and I ate him, tasting our combined juices. Sucking vigorously, I met his eyes; he stared at me with a pleasure and pain-filled expression. He snatched himself from my grasp. The tiny slit gaped; as he ruptured, the pressure of his seed could not be contained.

  “Aaaahhh…Charlotte!”

  Several spurts landed on my tongue, while others jetted onto my forehead. He groaned, massaging himself while fat drops escaped. The tangy syrup was swallowed, and I licked him, wiping away the naughty evidence. We fell to the sheepskin, where he drew me into his arms. Exhausted, I drifted to sleep almost instantly, enjoying the heat of the fire and the pleasure I had found in the arms of the Viking king. We woke a while later and made love again; he took me on my side, while rubbing the engorged mass of my clit. I’d orgasmed quickly, while he pounded deeply, stiffening and releasing his seed. We slept again until morning, where, to my shame, I found myself on top of him, riding vigorously, taking every ounce of pleasure he had to give. We peaked at the same time, collapsing in each other’s arms, exhausted.

  Randver rose early and dressed, grumbling, “Damn, woman. You wore me out. I’ll be dead on my feet today.”

  He left shortly thereafter to supervise another days’ worth of pillaging and plunder, no doubt. I lay on the fluffy sheepskin rug and stared at the fire, which had died down considerably. I needed to bathe, as my skin held hints of male perspiration. Other parts of me were moist with the aftereffects of seminal fluid, but I was far too tired to get up, so I closed my eyes and slept.

  The door opened a while later, waking me. It was Ari, who held a tray of food. “Good morning.”

  I sat, bringing a blanket with me. “I’m actually Lady Colby.”

  He suppressed a hint of a smile. “Good morning, Lady Colby.”

  “Is there…is there some water and a cloth? I need to—”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I wasn’t even going to imagine what he was thinking. I draped hair around my face, hiding, but it was useless. At some point last night, he had entered the room and seen me with Randver. He knew exactly what had gone on. After he left, he returned with a pitcher of water and a bowl. He handed me a linen towel.

  “Here you are. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No.”

  “Is the food not to your liking?” He glanced at the untouched tray.

  “It’s fine. Thank you.” I planned on bringing it to my mother and sister.

  He bowed slightly, taking his leave, and I hurried to wash and dress, my mind spinning with ideas of escape, and how I would help my family. My father was elsewhere, working with the other lords to amass an army to fight the Vikings, and we were trapped in the monastery for however long the invasion lasted. When I was dressed and ready, I turned the latch on the door, finding it unlocked. Glancing down the hallway, I was surprised and excited by the fact that a guard had not been ordered to watch over me.

  I hastened down the hall to the stairs and below, following the corridor to the bookcase, where I pulled on the edge, separating it from the wall. I slid through, holding the food items in a cloth bundle. Once inside, two anxious look
ing women greeted me.

  “Charlotte!” My mother looked relieved.

  “I’ve brought food.”

  “What’s happened to you?” My sister hugged me. “We were so worried.”

  “I’ve…er…I’ve been held hostage. I’m well. Perfectly well. I can’t stay long. I don’t want to give you away. Is there anything you need?”

  “We’ve water a plenty,” said my mother. She eyed me shrewdly. “Your dress is torn.”

  “I had an accident. I’ll find some thread and a needle soon enough. It’ll give me something to do, while we wait for father to rescue us.”

  “You must stay here, my dear. You’ll be safer hidden.”

  Being with the Viking king was preferable to being locked in a frigid chamber without food. “If I don’t return, he’ll search for me.”

  “We’re well hidden, Charlotte,” said Emma. “He won’t find you.”

  “But, then we’ll starve. They’ll be no food. I can bring you sustenance, otherwise you’d perish.”

  My mother squared her shoulders; a determined look was in her eye. “You’re right, my darling. I hadn’t thought of that. You’re sacrificing a great deal for us.”

  “I need to be free to know what’s happening. I’m not abused…I’m well.” My sister gave me a look, which I ignored. “I’ll try to return later with more food. My door may be locked, though.”

  Mother hugged me. “Take care of yourself, Charlotte. I shall pray for your health and safety.”

  “And I yours.”

  I slipped from the room, letting the bookcase close behind me. I stole down the hallway and up the stairs, returning to the Abbot’s chamber, where I sat on the window seat and stared out at a gloomy morning. It was quiet in the courtyard, and a fire burned in the distance, the plumes of dark smoke rising. How much longer would this invasion last? Where was my father? Was he well? Had he been wounded and left in a ditch? My gaze drifted to the sheepskin rug, where memories of the night before suddenly came to mind, in vivid, heated detail. I shivered, knowing that once the king returned he would take me again. What truly bothered me was the impatient tingling in secret, naughty places. How long would I have to wait?