Page 10 of Seduced by the Viking (Bound and Betrothed #5)

CHAPTER 9

Could things get any worse?

Grethe looked skyward, offering up a silent prayer for Freyja to give her patience. On the walk back from Elin’s hut, she’d been unfortunate enough to bump into Ulva, with no chance of evading the inevitable tongue-lashing.

Always in a foul temper, her aunt was even more unbearable today. Thoughtlessly, when Ulva had asked how matters were progressing, Grethe had given her a truthful answer and was paying the price.

Grethe’s bleeding time wasn’t due for another seven nights or so, but she knew for a fact that ‘ twas another cycle in which she wouldn’t be carrying a child. Such a thing wasn’t possible without intercourse, and she’d been denying Rutger any such favors.

“Useless, that’s what you are! As useless as that daughter of mine. I should have known just by looking at you. Too much bile for your own good! You’re so sour, you’re likely barren.” Ulva’s pitch rose. “My Sven had a lucky escape! Not just from the curse but from you!”

Grethe’s skin was thick where her aunt was concerned, but Ulva’s last insult cut to the quick.

“You can’t even keep this one where you need him!” Ulva’s gaze strayed somewhere over Grethe’s shoulder. “Letting him wander about freely on his own? What are you thinking, girl?”

Her eyes slid back to meet Grethe’s again. “Coming from Elin’s hut, I see.” Her aunt sneered. “That one’s desperate for a child. I wouldn’t put it past Elin to sleep with your man as well as her own if it improves her chances.”

Grethe cast a quick look over her shoulder and was horrified to see Rutger no more than a few steps away .

‘Twas mortifying! He’d surely heard everything.

However, as he came to stand beside her, Rutger curled his arm about Grethe’s back.

“Greetings, Mistress Ulva.” Rutger’s tone was polite yet firm. “‘Tis commendable for you to look out for your niece, but whatever misfortunes there have been, I’m certain they’re in the past. Grethe has me looking after her now, and I’ll make sure she has no regret for her choices.”

Grethe gulped against the lump that sprung to her throat. Rutger’s coming to her defense was unexpected. More than that, his proximity was comforting, and he’d spoken of ‘looking after her’.

Not that she gave credence to any of it, but she was grateful for the words, however honey-coated, and for the reassurance of the hand resting upon her shoulder.

Almost as surprisingly, her aunt made no retort to Rutger’s speech.

“How goes it with my shipmate, Viggo?” he went on. “I understand he’s with your daughter. I’ve not had the chance to speak much with him, but I’m sure he’s well cared for. I wish them well. ”

Ulva seemed shaken from her astonishment. “That ninny and her fool!Don’t waste your time.” Her voice dripped with spite. “Signy won’t be saddled with that cretin for long, not if I have anything to do with it. He’d be better off dead. At least, then, he wouldn’t be a weight about her neck—nor mine—eating us out of house and home.”

Grethe was about to remonstrate. However, Ulva swiftly made an about-turn, heading to the hut she shared with Agneta.

“That woman!” Rutger’s hand left Grethe’s shoulder, balling into a fist, but he made no indication of following nor of continuing the unpleasant discourse.

Relief swept over Grethe. Regardless of her aunt’s rudeness, she’d no wish to escalate the argument.

“Ignore her.She’s poisonous.” They were sentiments Grethe had often thought, though she didn’t think she’d ever said them aloud before. Nevertheless, a small part of her felt compassion for her aunt.

Grethe had lost the man who’d promised to marry her, but Ulva had been abandoned by a husband and son.

What did that do to a person?

Resentment had a habit of festering dark and ugly. ‘Twas something Grethe understood.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Grethe let out a long breath. She cringed to think of who else had received a juicy earful. Most of her neighbors, without doubt.

“Sven’s your cousin?” Rutger turned to her. “He was one of the men who survived but didn’t stay?”

“I thought he was clever and strong. He was older. I thought he’d look after me!” She laughed awkwardly, ashamed to admit how na?ve she’d been back then when she’d believed so much without question. “Perhaps I was the one with a lucky escape. It’s bad enough having Ulva as my aunt, never mind as my mother-in-law.”

“You’re better off without people who demean you, that’s for sure.” Gently, Rutger rubbed between her shoulder blades, hushing her as he did so, as if she were a child needing comfort after scraping her knee.

She ought not to like what he was doing, but it felt good. The tension in Grethe’s neck and shoulders eased a little just having him touch her like this. She wanted to lean in, letting him give her a full bear hug. He didn’t need to say anything; just to hold her would be enough.

I should hate him—for what I know he’s going to do and for what he’s done already, sneaking about behind my back.

But she didn’t. Not really.

‘Twas more that her pride was hurt.

“I could do with a draught of mead,” she resolved in the end. “You’ll take a mug with me?”

“Nectar of the gods!” The wonder upon Rutger’s face was evident as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “You made this all by yourself?”

“Well… not entirely. Signy brings me the honey from her hives. There would be no mead without it.” Grethe was pleased with his praise, but she knew better than to be carried away.

“But the barrels, the fermenting… and whatever else is involved. That’s all you.” Rutger’s admiration wa s obvious.

Don’t put too much store by it. He simply likes his mead. All men do. He’s on his fifth goblet, and my mead is strong stuff. ‘Tis no wonder he’s effusive in his compliments.

Stretching over from the stool upon which he was perched, he gave her a nudge. “Is this not as it would be if we were taking our honeymoon?”

“Nay! Nothing like! We aren’t married, nor shall we ever be.” In truth, Grethe had been looking forward to her ‘honey’ time with Sven—a whole cycle of the moon when they might closet themselves away and drink as much honey-mead as they liked while tumbling in the bed furs.

‘Twas yet another thing she’d been cheated of, though she’d made up for it, to some extent, in having had Rutger at her beck and call.

Until he spoilt it!

“You still wish to have a child, yes?” Rutger was leaning so far forward, she feared he’d fall off the stool altogether. “If so, we ought to be having lots of sex. We should treat this like a true honeymoon, eh Grethe?”

“Lack-brained clod! Let me worry about that.” She turned her head away from his mead-sodden breath, but that only left her neck exposed, and he nuzzled there, just below her ear. ‘Twas a definite sign of amorousness—at least where he was concerned.

Rutger had a fondness for every part of her body, as far as she could tell, but her ear lobes were right up there, alongside her breasts… so to speak. Not that Grethe was complaining. She liked it when he nibbled her ears.

“That Sven was an idiot,” Rutger mumbled before sucking the fleshiest part of her lobe into his mouth.

“Yes, he was.” Putting aside her goblet, she closed her eyes.

“That aunt of yours isn’t any better.” With a sweep of his arm, Rutger lifted Grethe off her stool and onto his lap. “You shouldn’t put up with it.”

“Also true.” Grethe let herself relax in Rutger’s embrace. He’d planted both feet more firmly, thank the gods, so she had faith they wouldn’t end up tumbling to the floor.

“What about the rest of your family?”

“Cousin Signy’s alright, I suppose. A bit too soft for her own good.”

“You can be soft, too.” Lifting her hand, Rutger brushed his lips upon her upturned wrist. “When you wish it.”

Grethe shivered with pleasure at the featherlight touch. She brought her fingers through his hair, giving a playful tug.

“You’re soft… soft in the head!”

“And what of your parents, siblings?”

Grethe paused. ‘Twas not a subject she liked to dwell upon, for they were gone, and nothing would change that. However, she need only tell him once, then it would be done.

“My mother died several years ago. My father and brother during the troubled time when the curse came…”

Rutger rubbed his right thumb where he’d kissed. His hand looked huge beside her own, the fingers easily able to span her wrist. She appreciated that he could be gentle despite his size and strength.

He would be formidable, she could tell, protecting his family, but he’d never use that prowess for needless harm. He’d never use it against her, not in any true sense. She didn’t mind that he used his physical superiority to overpower her during their bedsport. Quite the opposite.

“You’ve been alone.” His voice was quiet.

Grethe gave a small shrug. “Even when my brother and father were living, I felt that way. They were devoted to their work, fishing alongside Astrid’s father. When they were home, all they did was sleep or talk about nets and such. My mother was more of a character, making her mead and bartering both that and the fish with the other islanders. I’m like her, I suppose, stubborn and independent. I like my way… in most things.”

Rutger nodded. “The women of my family are the same. They’re a daunting force when gathered.” He gave a low chuckle. “Five older sisters, besides aunts and cousins, my mother and grandmother—all treating me like I’m a youngling of nine or ten rather than a full-grown man. Not that I’m complaining. They love me as fiercely as I do them.”

Grethe blinked in surprise. She’d never thought to ask him about his family. She could hardly imagine him surrounded by so many women, all fussing over him, or perhaps she could. There was something about Rutger that made her want to fuss over him, too—cheeky lout that he was!

He was obviously fond of his womenfolk, too, and respectful, it seemed.

She hadn’t forgotten, though, what he’d said to his jarl.

If she let him, Rutger could twist her around his finger, then where would she be when he up and left? She’d need to keep her wits about her. Rutger was here for now, and she’d enjoy this while it lasted. Nothing more.

With a wriggle, she abandoned his lap, swaying a little from the partaking of the mead.

“All this drinking has put me in the mood for a sample of your horn.” She gave him a push upon the shoulder. “And I’d like something a bit different. I don’t want to be the one doing all the work or have you dribbling honey about the place.”

Rutger grinned. “I’m ready to oblige, and, as it happens, I’ve a gift for you.”

Grethe’s interest was piqued. She liked presents, though ‘twas rare anyone gave her anything, unless it was in exchange for mead .

Still, she was suspicious. “I hope ‘tis good, this gift!”

With eyes alight, Rutger got to his feet.

“Clothes off, wench, and lay yourself upon the bed furs. I’ll be back in two swishes of a tail.”

“What is it?” Grethe jabbed her finger at the strange object Rutger was holding for her perusal. It didn’t look in the least remarkable. “Is it for tenderizing meat?” Grethe frowned. It wasn’t her idea of an exciting gift.

“In a manner of speaking.” Rutger ran his palm upon it lovingly. “‘Tis all the rage back in Skálavík. I craft more of these than I do of anything else. All the women come asking for them—thick ones and thin, long and short. Some with protrusions at the top or near the bottom. I wasn’t sure which you’d like best, so I made this of medium girth with a ring of nobbles around the head. Once you’ve given it a go, you can tell me what you think. I’m happy to make more to your own specifications.”

“Hmmm.” Grethe was bemused. The women of Skálavík clearly took things seriously regarding the making of stew. She could see the benefits, she supposed. A well-prepared side of rabbit would soften in the pot all the quicker. The little nobbles were a clever touch, though she couldn’t imagine why he’d chosen to give it to her now when he was stark naked and so was she, with her ankles tied together and her knees bent up to her chest.

The last thing on her mind was what they’d be having for supper, but ‘twould be ungrateful to show no interest, and Rutger appeared pleased with himself.

“Is there a particular technique to it?”

“That’s down to personal preference. I understand it can be good to start slow, then work up to a faster rhythm.” Rutger spat on the nobbled end, running his finger over to spread out the saliva.

Stranger and stranger.

She did hope he’d soon get on with the business of riding her. The mead was making her dozy. If she curled onto her side, she might easily go to sleep.

However, the next moment, something unnaturally hard was prodding between her nether lips.

Grethe let out a yelp of surprise. “What are you doing?”

‘Twas the wooden thing, and Rutger was down there, twirling it about.

“Showing you how it works.” He smiled from the other side of her ankles, which he held firm, keeping her knees pressed tight to her torso.

“What sort of carpenter are you? I’ve never heard of such perversion!”

He laughed as the twirling continued.

Sacred Freyja!

Grethe jolted as a roaring spasm of bliss shot through her.

Rutger nodded in approval. “I see you’ve the hang of it. Your woman juices are flowing nicely. That makes the next part all the easier.”

“What next part?” Grethe was still reeling from the ripples of delight traveling her body.

Rutger adjusted the thing, moving it downward. “I’m told the nobbles are particularly effective upon the cushioned parts just inside your sheath.”

Grethe gasped as the wooden phallus breached her. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but the sensation was peculiar.

“That’s it. You’re getting accustomed already.” Rutger picked up the pace, though thrusting the thing only a short way inside.

Grethe’s eyes widened.

By the gods! It’s happening again!

The way the wooden cock was stroking back and forth was creating sensations she’d never experienced before. Places she didn’t even know existed were quivering.

Her second tumult hit almost as ferociously as the first, but he did not pause, pushing into her through the waves. Her clenching only drew the thing deeper.

“Rutger! Stop! ‘Tis too much!”

He stayed his hand. “Are you sure? You’ve not seen the best part yet. While this fills your sheath, I can slide my own hardness up your anus. Think how that will feel, Grethe, front and back receiving my thrusting, both together or one then the other. The thought of it almost makes me wish to be a woman, just for a short while, to see how that would feel.”

Grethe’s head spun.

Two cocks inside her, both controlled by Rutger!

At this angle, his fleshy member would claim her rear entrance in an altogether different way than when she’d been on all fours.

With her ankles tied, she’d be helpless to resist.

‘Twas an exciting notion.

“I’m… not sure.” She couldn’t help the tremble in her voice.

Immediately, Rutger ceased. “‘Tis naught to worry over. We’ve all the time in the world to practice.”

Grethe let go a sigh of relief, though as the wooden phallus left her body, she was bereft.

“There’s a second gift, which you may like better.” Rutger sounded hopeful.

Grethe craned to see.

Was that… a mushroom?

Tall and ridged, with a disk at the bottom, it wasn’t like any mushroom she’d seen before.

Surely, he wasn’t going to start up on cooking tips again!

“‘Tis like the first, only this is crafted to fill you behind.” Rutger went on. “Then, I can take you in the usual way.”

She took a moment, imagining how that would feel , but Rutger was clearly impatient.

“Grethe, your cunny is so creamed, it’s brimming over. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I’m hard as a rock, thinking about fucking you.”

Hearing him talk so sent a pang of lust through her.

“Yes, do it. Quickly.”

She held her breath as the wooden mushroom pressed at her bottom, but Rutger was surely right about her body’s lubrication, for the thing slid inside without much resistance. ‘Twas far easier than she expected, and though it felt ‘wrong’, she liked it. Having her back entrance filled made her crave him all the more.

“Now! Please!” She hugged her knees closer, presenting herself, and with a groan of hunger, he sank inside .

The sensation of being so thoroughly filled and stretched was surprising but in the best, most glorious way.

As he rocked her back, she caught the wild look in his eyes. He moaned between each thrust.

“Sweet Grethe. Yes! You’re so tight! So wet! I can feel it inside you, close to my cock, as if you have another back there. Would you like that? Having some other man beneath you, hammering your arse while I fuck you on top?”

Grethe’s heart raced. Rutger liked to talk thus, of how it felt to be inside her, but he’d never ventured so far, speaking in this way.

A new thrill shot through her, imagining hateful Sven crushed beneath her back, her only use for him being to take his phallus in her behind, the more to enjoy Rutger making love to her from above.

“All men want to fuck you, but I’m the only one who gets to be inside you like this, in your hot sheath. A perfect fit for my cock. I’m the only one who gets to flood you with seed. I’m. The. Only. One…” Rutger’s face contorted as he ut tered a guttural groan.

“Yes!” She was panting herself. “Harder, Rutger. Go deep. I need you.”

“Gods! Grethe! Fuck me!” Rutger arched his back, delivering one last driving penetration.