Page 12

He caressed her shoulders, then worked his way down her spine, noting each ridge and hollow as he went.

He reached the indent at the base of her spine and paused to admire the swell of her bottom as it shimmered beneath the water.

He chose to ignore her gasp when he slid his fingers down the deep groove between her buttocks, but did not insist that she lift her body up to allow him full access.

Instead he worked his way back up to her shoulders and held the delicate curves in his palms for several moments.

Then he commenced his descent once more, this time reaching around to cup her delectable breasts.

She stiffened, but did not resist. That would be futile in any case. She was his, and though he had sworn not to rape her and he would keep his word, otherwise she was his to explore as he chose. Still, he had no wish to cause her any unnecessary distress.

“Fiona, you know I will not harm you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I am coming to believe that.”

“But…?”

“But I… I do not know. This is so strange. I should fight you.” She lowered her head, her chin tucked in to her chest.

“Do not,” he warned her softly.

“I will not, Viking.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her damp head before continuing his quest. Her breasts were not large, but filled his hands nicely. Ulfric tested the soft weight, the gently rounded lower curves and the up-tilted nipples, the deep pink of her pebbled buds ringed by the softer hue of her aureole.

He took the tips between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed, though not hard. He had no desire to frighten her yet more, though still she let out a soft squeal.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was deliberately softened, the question murmured into her ear.

She shook her head.

“Would you like me to hurt you? Perhaps, just a little?”

Now she turned her face to regard him over her wet shoulder.

Her gaze was perplexed, as though she could not entirely comprehend the meaning of his question.

Ulfric tightened his grip on her nipples, the added pressure so slight as to be almost imperceptible.

But it was enough. She blinked, her lips parted… and she whispered, “Yes.”

He smiled and leaned forward to brush her mouth with his. “That is a good choice, little one.”

He squeezed harder and tugged on her swollen buds.

They lengthened between his fingers and her head dropped back to rest on the edge of the tub.

This had the effect of arching her back to better present her breasts above the surface of the water, and Ulfric took advantage by shifting around to the side of the bath.

He cupped her left breast in his hand and lifted the peak up, then took it between his lips.

Fiona jerked and let out another sharp cry, though not of pain, he was certain. Now he circled her right nipple with his fingers as he sucked on her left, pressing the hard tip against the roof of his mouth.

“Oh! Oh, Ulfric… please…”

He relaxed the suction, but scraped his teeth across her sensitive bud, then he held it between his teeth as he flicked the tip with his tongue.

Fiona writhed in the water causing small waves to splash over the edges, her soft moans and gasps utterly intoxicating.

Ulfric released her left nipple and moved across to treat the other one in similar fashion.

His little Celt was squirming in the bathtub, her fingers tunnelling through his hair as she grabbed his head and pressed it to her sensitive breasts.

“Ulfric… Oh, oh, dear Lord…”

He slipped his free hand down her body and cupped her mound briefly before continuing on to stroke between her folds.

Her thighs parted for him as far as she was able within the confines of the tub and she lifted her hips.

She may protest, though less vociferously now, but her body was on fire for this and he would fan the flames.

“I wish to cleanse your lower body. Can you stand, do you think, if you lean on me?”

“I… I am not certain. Perhaps…”

“Shall we find out?”

He stood and offered her both his hands. She took them, and slowly rose to stand in the water.

“Warm enough now?”

“Yes, Ulfric. Thank you.”

“Rest your hands on my shoulders.” He lowered himself to his knees and started to draw the flannel up first one leg, then the other.

Fiona leaned forward to rest her weight on him and he noted that she was holding her left foot off the bottom of the tub.

And that the binding was gone. Why had he not spotted that earlier?

“Your bandage?”

“She ordered me to remove it.”

“Then we should replace it at once. I assume it was helping?”

“Yes, very much. Though I suppose it would have needed to be changed once it became wet.”

“Even so, I will say when it is to come off. And now, my little Celt, since my exploration of your body has barely begun, I shall require you to spread your legs wide for me. I fear I must return you to my bed where you will be more comfortable as your ankle will not bear the strain.”

She made no comment, which Ulfric took to be an encouraging sign. He rose to his feet and lifted her from the tub, and was gratified when she looped her hands about his neck and pressed her body against his naked chest.

“You are very beautiful.”

Had he heard her correctly? “I beg your pardon, little Celt.”

“I said that you are beautiful. I had not known that a man could be so… so… perfect.”

He would not have described himself thus, but saw no sense in disputing her assessment at this precise moment. Ulfric laid her on the bed and stood over her to appraise her nude body, now glowing a healthy shade of pink and no longer shivering.

“And you are quite lovely also, Fiona. I thought so the moment I first saw you.”

“Yet you bound me, threatened me, and abducted me.”

“As for the first two, it was a somewhat heated moment and you had just felled two of my warriors with your sling. As to the third, I have no regrets. I want you. I wanted you from the start, so I took you. Because I could.”

She looked up at him and held his gaze. Even yesterday she would have berated him about his treatment of her and her people, but today something had shifted.

Maybe he had his sister to thank for this change in attitude, though she would receive no fair words from him for her ill treatment of his helpless captive.

Ulfric glanced about the chamber but could not see the bandage he had fashioned yesterday.

No matter, he could replace it. He lifted the lid of a storage chest and groped within for a length of linen.

He tore the fabric into strips and sat on the edge of the bed close to Fiona’s feet and gently lifted her injured ankle to lay it across his thighs.

He wrapped the bandage around it again, pulling it tight to provide the support she needed.

The first time he had done this she had lain fearful on the ground, but now she relaxed in his bed, her eyes closed and her mouth curling in a hint of a smile.

Ulfric completed the task, tugging the bandage tight since that would offer more support.

He tied it off then glanced up at his captive’s face.

Fiona lay still, her eyes closed, though she opened them as though aware of his perusal.

Her irises were a stormy grey, dark, rich with some sort of heady allure.

He was sure she did not intend to beckon him with her gaze, but that was the effect even so.

She made no further attempt to conceal her nudity from him, seemingly content to allow him to look at her as he pleased. As she should.

Turning to face her fully, Ulfric gently parted her legs, pushing her ankles wide. Her expression remained serene. She wanted this. Him.

He glimpsed the damp sheen of her sex peeking from between her spread thighs, already wet for him though she had hardly the barest notion of what that meant. She had been startled, astonished, by her response in his bed the previous night but he intended to continue her enlightenment here and now.

Ulfric stroked his hands up her inner calves to her knees, then pressed to widen her legs even more.

She bent her knees obligingly and allowed him to push her thighs apart, revealing her dark pink lower lips, now gleaming with her arousal.

The tip of her clitty was just visible, peeking out from within its hood as though begging for his attention. He would not disappoint.

“Put your hands behind your head, and keep them there. It will be as though I bound them again.”

“There is no need to tie me to your bed, Viking. Even if my ankle would hold me, I do not think I would desire to leave just yet.”

“I am delighted to hear that, but there are many reasons a man may choose to tie a wench to his bed. You will do as I say.”

It was a command, though gently made, and she obeyed him.

Her features remained tranquil, even as the new posture caused her to arch her back and lift her breasts up for him to admire.

Surely she did not do this innocently? She must realise how her acquiescence, her obedience, her lush availability affected him?

She was young, yes, but not a child. And she had been betrothed to the thrall who had looked as though he might tear Ulfric’s head from his shoulders given the slightest opportunity.

He did not have a look of a man who would leave his beautiful bride-to-be in ignorance of her sensual charms. Ulfric’s cock lurched to full attention as his captive writhed before him on the furs.

“How old are you, Fiona?”

She opened her eyes fully to regard him. “Nineteen summers, Viking. And you?”

He grinned at her forthright question. “I shall not see my thirtieth summer again, wench. Tell me, how long were you betrothed to your fierce Celtic warrior?”

Her expression hardened, and he at once regretted his words.

“Do not mock Taranc. He is a fine man and… and I love him dearly.”

By Odin’s fucking balls . This he did not need.