Page 27

B y Odin's balls, this Celt is lovely . She possessed more than a mere prettiness, though his captive was without doubt a beauty.

Gunnar paused to take in the glorious mane of amber curls and the mossy green of her eyes, the features which had first arrested his attention.

He had more recently come to properly appreciate the soft swell of her lush breasts, the curve of her hips, the delicate contours of her long legs, her finely boned ankles.

The sweet sight of her dainty fingers around his solid length had near enough unhinged him.

Had she not begged for his cock he might have fallen to his knees himself.

She smiled at him and his erection lurched, his balls tightening in pained response. He had to have her. Now.

She was wet, ready for him. He positioned the glistening head of his cock at the entrance to her slick, tight channel and waited for several moments.

Mairead gave an impatient mewl and shifted beneath him as though she would wait no longer and sought to somehow lift herself from the mattress and impale herself on his cock.

Maybe on another occasion he would permit that, but for now, this first time, he would control her. This was his way, his preference, she must submit.

Gunnar drove his cock forward, filling his slave in one long, smooth stroke.

She gasped, quivered around his cock, but did not cry out.

He remained motionless even so, scanning her features for any sign of distress.

There was none. She returned his gaze, her emerald eyes dark with passion and need, her lips slack with lust.

He kissed her again, for no better reason than he felt like it.

She tightened her sweet cunt around him, perhaps deliberately, perhaps not but he did not care.

She gripped him, her channel hot and narrow and wrapped around his cock like the close-fitting leggings he favoured.

He could no longer discern where he ended and she began.

"Mairead..." he growled. "This will not take long..."

"Then you may be required to do it all over again, master." She lifted her hips, moving them in a seductive circle. There was no doubt she did so on purpose now.

"Impudent wench. You require further chastisement?"

"I require you to do what you have promised, Gunnar. Make love to me. Please. Do it hard, and... and..."

"Ah, lost for words at last? Thank all the gods for that.

" He withdrew his cock slowly, until he was almost completely out of her, only to drive it back again.

He stroked in and out of her sweet channel, long and deep, and watched in wonder as her eyes widened.

She lifted her legs and hooked her ankles in the small of his back, and grasped his shoulders with her slender fingers.

She clung to him as though she feared he might slip away from her. She need have no fear of that.

He shortened his strokes now, jabbing his cock in and out of her entrance.

She went wild beneath him, writhing, squeezing, her cunt convulsing around him.

Leaning his weight on his left elbow he used his right hand to slip between their bodies and caress her swollen clitty, rubbing, pressing, pinching as she moaned her delighted pleasure.

"Come for me, little one. I want to feel your release on my cock."

"I cannot... I am not sure..."

He could not wait, it had to be now. "Come for me," he demanded. Gunnar rolled her clit between his finger and thumb at the same time as he buried his cock in her right to the root. It was enough, too much. She contracted around him, her entire body shivering as her climax crested.

His cock leapt within her warm, wet sheath. His aching balls twisted painfully within their sack and he roared as they expelled the first spurt of semen. The viscous fluid surged forth to fill her with his own hotness, pumping, gushing until he, too, was spent.

Gunnar collapsed onto the woman beneath him, only just managing to shift his weight in time to avoid crushing her. He pressed his face into the mattress beside her shoulder and groaned.

"Are you all right?" She sounded concerned. Gunnar would have laughed out loud if he thought for one moment he could spare the breath.

"Yes," he managed. "You?"

"I am well, thank you. You were very gentle, and I thank you for your consideration. Perhaps next time though, you might be a little less ... restrained."

Gunnar gave serious consideration to the notion of restraining his impudent thrall, and possibly gagging her for good measure, but dismissed it. A far more appealing thought had taken root already and he would remain silent no longer.

"You are mine. You do not dispute this?"

"Jarl?"

"Do you dispute the matter, Mairead?"

"No, I do not. Have I displeased you? I merely thought?—"

"Then you shall be my wife. I prefer that – to slave."

"You...? What? What did you say, Jarl?"

"We shall be wed. Soon. At once."

"But ... why? I am... I mean, I thought..."

He turned his head to regard her startled features. She had never looked lovelier, or more desirable. Ah yes, he would make her his wife and it would be among the best bargains he ever struck. He slung his arm across her shoulders and pulled her to him.

"Because I wish to, and because I can. Do you object to such an arrangement?" And would it matter to him if she did?

Mairead sat up, her beautiful breasts bobbing just above his eye level. Gunnar's mouth watered and his cock began to harden again, but the expression in her eyes now was serious, enough to give him pause. Something was amiss with his delightful slave turned bride-to-be.

"It is not that I object. As you say, I am yours, to do with as you decide."

"It is not quite so simple, and well you know it. I would not take your body by force, nor will I claim the rest of your life if you do not wish to give it. I believe you want me."

"I did. I do. But is not merely a matter of what I want. I have...responsibilities."

"And duties. To me." He was being unfair, demanding that to which he had no right. But she could not refuse him, he would not permit it.

Mairead straightened her body and stiffened her shoulders.

She met his gaze, her expression one of grim determination.

"Very well, I will marry you, but I have conditions.

You must promise me that you will treat my children as you would your own.

You must care for them and... and never shout. Not at them, not at me."

He glared at her, incredulous. "You would seek to bargain with me? Perhaps I should take a switch to you by way of a response to your terms."

Tears formed in her eyes and he wished he might bite back the sharp words. He had frightened her, and needlessly since he had not the slightest intention of hurting her, not over this. But he had terms of his own, and since she had raised the matter of her children...

"Tyra and Donald have no place in this discussion. It is between us, you and me."

"But—"

He raised his hand to lay a finger across her lips.

"Be quiet, and listen to me. Heed me well on this, Mairead, because it matters that you understand my words.

" He furrowed his brow and waited for her nod of acknowledgement before he continued.

"Tyra was fathered by another man, but she is mine now.

The moment she slithered into my hands, covered in blood and began screaming fit to rouse the dead, she was mine.

Nothing you may do, or not do, will alter that.

Our child is not to be bargained with. Donald is more complicated.

I know he does not wish for another stepfather but I believe he and I have now arrived at an understanding.

I will continue to do what I may to help him grow into the man he can be, and again, I will do this whether you and I wed or not.

He is my thrall; he lives in my house; he is my responsibility.

" Gunnar paused to let these matters take root between her beautiful ears before continuing.

"You have managed to vex me on a number of occasions.

Your lad, also. I do not recall ever shouting at either of you.

I will raise my voice to my men, to urge them into battle, but that is not my way with my family. "

She did not answer, Mairead just gazed at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted in stunned surprise.

"Do you have anything more to say on the subject of shouting, or might we move on to the matter of your wishes now?"

"My wishes...?"

"Do you wish to be my wife? It is a simple enough question."

"I... I had not thought to marry again. Alred was... not a pleasant companion, and?—"

"I am not him. It will be different, between us. I have already shown you that, have I not?"

"Yes, " she whispered. "You are a warrior, dark and perfectly terrifying, but I do not fear you as I did him."

"We have spoken enough of that man. Know that I will never raise my hand to you in anger, nor will I shout at you. Know also that whatever might pass between us, I will not harm your children. I will protect them and you. I know you desire me, in time you will learn to love me, perhaps."

"Will you learn to love me?" she whispered.

He shook his head and gave her a wry smile. "No, little one. I will not need to for I already adore you. So, will you become my wife?"

She waited, eying him curiously before finally inclining her head in a studied nod. "You drive a hard bargain, Jarl, but I believe I might agree to your terms. If you will be so kind as to make love to me again..."

"Then we have arrived at an understanding." Gunnar rolled onto his back. "Though if you believe I shall allow you to become lazy whilst I do all the work in our bed then you are quite wrong. This time, you will ride me."

"I... oh..." She peered at him, her face a mask of confusion.

"Ah, have we stumbled upon yet another gap in your knowledge of that which transpires between a man and a woman?" He grinned at her and gestured with his fingers that she was to rise up onto her knees. "Now, you straddle me. Do you understand this word?"

"I believe that I do, Jarl." Mairead scrambled into position, one knee on either side of his waist.

"Excellent. Now you will shift back a little, and lower yourself onto my cock."

"Is that possible? I have never?—"

"It is. Please proceed."

She shuffled back until her damp cunt hovered above his straining erection. Gunnar smiled at her again. "On this occasion, since you are new to this, you may use your hands to guide my cock into your body."

"How? Like this?" She took hold of his cock and carefully angled it so that the round, slick head rested between the lips of her pussy.

"Yes. Exactly like that, " he breathed. "Now, lower yourself down. Slowly. Take all of it."

She chewed on her lower lip, her delicate features rapt in intense concentration as she sank onto his cock.

She watched the place where their bodies joined, and stopped several times to glance back up at him as though seeking his approval.

On each occasion he nodded, urging her on.

At last she was fully seated, her bottom resting on his thighs.

Her eyes were closed now, her lips slightly parted. "Did I do well, Jarl?"

"You did. Your surely did. Are you comfortable?"

"I... I would not say that, exactly."

"Any pain?"

"No."

"In that case, you may move whenever it pleases you."

"How? What should I do?" She looked quite lost.

"Whatever feels good to you." He placed his hands on her hips and moved them in a circular motion and grinned as she let out a long, low moan.

Next he lifted her a couple of inches, then allowed her to sink back onto him again.

His reward was more moaning and a sensual sigh.

"There, you get the idea now?" He released her hips and moved his hands around to the front to peel back the slick folds which barely covered her clitty.

He laid the pad of his thumb on the engorged nub.

"Rub against my thumb. Seek your release, do whatever you must to achieve it. "

Her eyes popped open in sudden understanding of her own power to claim her pleasure, and his.

She lifted her hips and lowered them again, this time using her inner muscles to increase the friction.

Now it was Gunnar's turn to groan. He prayed she would find her climax soon for he could not stand much of this.

Mairead quickly eased into a sensual rhythm – lifting, lowering, rising, falling, all the while slowly rotating her hips in a manner calculated to drive him wild.

She leaned forward, her plump breasts swaying before his eyes as she moved.

Gunnar reached up to cup the soft mounds, testing their weight in his hands as he gently squeezed her deep pink nipples.

He traced the outline of her aureole, admiring the contrast of dusky pink against the creaminess of her skin.

Soon, when she was no longer feeding the infant, he might enjoy more sport here.

And so might she if her contented expression was any indication.

"Gunnar, I need... Oh, yes, just like that. Yes , yes!" Her breathy moans were louder now, her demands more insistent. His own arousal built and threatened to crest soon. Too soon.

"Be still a moment. Allow me to help you.

.." He took over the action now, his fingers skimming her clitty as he gauged her response.

He kept the pressure light at first, then increased the intensity of his caress until she cried out his name.

Her features contorted in pleasure and her inner muscles convulsed about him.

He bore the rippling caress as long as he could, then thrust up – hard.

His shout was guttural as his own release surged forth again.

This woman would milk him dry, and he would love her all the more for it.