Page 3

CHAPTER 3

Astrid sat up, sloshing water over the rim of the tub. The room was suddenly flooded with late afternoon sunlight, and without turning, she knew who’d entered.

As he bolted the door behind him, she drew up her knees to her chest.

Blood rushed to her cheeks. Such thoughts she’d been having, and now J?rgen was there!

In her nakedness, she was defenseless.

Something about that sent a thrill through her, as well as fear.

He said nothing. Nevertheless, she was aware of him kneeling behind, leaning in close. His breath stirred the hair at her nape, above which she’d pinned her single plait into a coil. She swallowed as he pressed his lips there so gently, she melted and tipped back her head.

Still, he did not speak, other than to murmur her name, taking his grazing mouth along her hairline toward her ear.

Then, his hands were upon her, kneading the muscles of her neck and her shoulders. His fingertips swept over her back, and his thumbs ran upward, more firmly, on either side of her spine.

Those hands burned with heat, yet they made her shiver.

She pictured them reaching around, covering her breasts, stroking and fondling. She had only to lean backward to resume her relaxed pose, and he would touch her in that way—she was sure of it.

Not just her breasts.

Oh, sweet Freyja!

The temptation to give in consumed her, but her anxiety remained.

Was it what she wanted? To submit to him? To allow him not just to touch her but to consummate this… arrangement.

All the weeks, she’d been afraid of how things would be if she ceded. Was she ready to find out and to deal with the consequences?

A baby, perhaps.

Undoubtedly, J?rgen’s attitude changing toward her once he’d gained her compliance.

How swiftly would that happen? As soon as he’d done the deed or the next day? Longer, if she was lucky, but soon enough, he’d be bedding someone else. He certainly wouldn’t think of her then. For him, ‘twould be as if she never existed.

Astrid clasped her knees tighter.

“You’re thirsty from your labors?” she asked awkwardly. “There’s water in the jug, stew if you’re hungry.”

“I’m ravenous, but not for stew.”

As he pulled her against his body, his chest hair tickled against her back. No sooner had he come in than he must have stripped off his shirt.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His head dipped again, kissing inward from her shoulder toward her neck. “Breathtakingly beautiful.”

Astrid knew that wasn’t true. She was just an ordinary girl.

No doubt, he repeated the same to every woman while luring them to offer up what he wanted.

Still, it was good to hear him say such things.

The kisses grew more persistent, his mouth tasting her skin, his teeth gently nipping.

Astrid moaned. By the gods, what was he doing to her?

His arms came from behind to encircle her waist. “You know what I want, my lovely.”

Instinctively, she brought her elbows into her body.

“Don’t be frightened.” He whispered close to her ear. “There will be so much pleasure. More than you can imagine.”

She relaxed only a fraction, but it was enough to allow him to slide his hands up to her breasts.

“So perfect.” He buried his face in her neck. “Am I the first, Astrid? The only man to have gazed upon your breasts, to have caressed them?”

She squirmed in response. “You know you are.”

He growled his approval.

“And you want me to do more, don’t you? Not just to touch you here...” He caressed her silken flesh, circling with flattened palms, then teasing her nipples between thumb and forefinger.

“You want me to devour your sweet dumplings, to suckle long and hard.” His teeth nipped her lobe. “To feast on your little virgin teats while I sink into your wetness—your breasts slippery with my saliva and your cunny slick around my driving cock.”

The words were vulgar.

Obscene.

He spoke as if they were rutting animals.

She ought to hate him talking like that, but she didn’t.

Her crux throbbed, and her nipples ached, wanting more of his rough kneading, wanting all the things he described.

Even though I mean nothing to him and never will.

One of his hands glided down her belly. As soon as he reached her mound, her legs parted, wanting him to touch between them, her body responding regardless of her reservations.

Expertly, his fingertip skimmed where she quivered.

Whatever resistance she harbored, her body was oblivious. Already, a wonderful tingling sensation swept over her.

His voice was gruff. “I want to fuck you.”

She gasped as his forefinger pushed inside her.

“And the pain will blend with the passion until you know not where your body ends and mine begins. I’ll lift your legs and thrust. Not tenderly but fast and deep. So deep, you’ll fear tearing in two.”

His degrading talk was oddly arousing.

“I know how you’ll smell. Musky, your cream dripping over my cock, coating my bollocks. I’ll be root-deep, grinding against your swollen clit, and you’ll plead for more.”

A rushing feeling took hold of her, a burst of something sudden she couldn’t control, and her sheath clenched tight around J?rgen’s finger.

As she cried out, he bit down, open-mouthed, into the taut sinew where her neck met the slope of her shoulder. She shuddered with pleasure, even while she whimpered against the cruelty of his teeth.

The room spun as he lifted her from the tub, and her breath caught when he tumbled her atop the bed. She landed with a gasp, desire dominating her instinct to flee.

His finger had been so good, the pleasure building and overcoming her; such sensation—all inspired by his touch. Fascination with what more he offered rooted her to the bed.

“Look at you.” His dark-glinted gaze was entirely upon her as he shrugged out of his remaining clothes. “Sprawled out and mine for the taking.”

Eyes wide, she inched away, her throat suddenly dry .

The organ that sprung forth from his braies was colossal. Surely, nothing that size could be comfortable inside her.

Perhaps it was better that she remained a maid, after all.

“Oh, no, pretty.” He leapt after her, stalking closer until he was between her thighs. “You’ll not get away this time.”

“But…” Her heart raced. The hunger in his eyes told her that there would be no negotiation. She was naked beneath him, still slippery from her bath, and what happened next was surely inevitable. Torn between passion and fear, she didn’t know what to do.

Not that there was much choice.

Leaning over, J?rgen reached for her hands and pinned them gently over her head.

“But nothing.” His head lowered to nuzzle at her neck. “You’re more than ready for me.”

She moaned at the caress, her legs splaying despite herself. She did long for him and could only hope the deed would be swift and not too painful.

“Please.” She didn’t know what she begged for as he rose over her, aware only that the place he craved was wet and wanting.

He was a fine specimen of a man, and she knew, at last, that she was ready for him to make her a woman. She stared into his eyes as he pressed his manhood to her core. All the while, he held her gaze, the connection between them unbroken.

She called out at his first thrust, her mouth parting at the searing hurt. Never, in all her years, had she known pain like it, yet the intense, needful expression on J?rgen’s face thrilled her.

“By the gods!” His jaw tightened as he moved deeper before slowly withdrawing. “You’re holding me… so tight!”

“J?rgen, I—” Once more, she intended to dissent, but he slammed into her, robbing Astrid of breath. Her mind spun, incapable of thought, as he drove deep, over and again.

The act was so much rougher than she’d expected. Would the coupling do her damage? Yet her body was taking him more easily with each stroke, and the rending within her sheath was no longer a searing pain but a dull, persistent throb—a pulse matching that of her pounding blood, welcoming J?rgen’s invasion, wanting it more than anything, no matter the cost.

Momentarily, he held himself still, buried in her body.

“So… good.” His breathing was labored as his fingers entwined with hers. “By Odin! Was any man… so favored?”

Rocking his pelvis, he rubbed mercilessly where Astrid was most sensitive, and she cried out, this time not in pain but in fevered pleasure.

His body was so hard while hers was soft, his form so obviously built to dominate, while hers was designed to yield.

No matter the discomfort, their connection felt right. She longed to be subdued, to feel his weight and power.

When he began thrusting once more, a wave of darkness washed over her, and pinpricked stars winked in the periphery of her vision.

Her murmurings made no sense, her mouth filled with assent and protest. The ferocity of J?rgen’s staff stole all reason.

He, too, was moaning, uttering profanities interspersed with her name. When, at last, he shuddered to his satisfaction, a sheen of sweat covered his body, slicking hers beneath.

His eyes glazed as his head hung over hers.

“Astrid.” His voice was gentler, his lips grazing her shoulder until his head settled.

She turned, not wanting him to see her glistening tears, which sprung from a place she could not fathom. She blinked them away.

He was embedded in her still, and she was sore, though no more than she’d anticipated. She sensed the act was born from devotion rather than impiety. Even so, she couldn’t shake the sense of having been ravaged.

Her body was weary yet alive with sensation; she adored the rapture but was puzzled by the ferocity.

I’ll never be the same again.

‘Twas a strange thought, fast followed by one more somber.

Nothing shall be the same, but it doesn’t change what will come.

I’ve given myself to him. It’s only a matter of time before I lose him altogether.