Page 3 of Seduced by the Viking (Bound and Betrothed #5)

CHAPTER 2

Whatever was going on, Rutger would take the upper hand, and that started with him giving the wench exactly what she was angling for. There could be no doubt about it, for she’d wasted little time in sitting astride him.

With his arm wrenched behind and the fingers of his left aching to blazes, the position wasn’t ideal for vigorous swiving , but Rutger was determined to give it his best.

‘Twas of no matter that her expression was as shocked as if he were a corpse rising up to claim her rather than a hot-blooded man. Holding her as firmly as he was able, Rutger adopted a method he rarely bothered with, moving her up and down as fast as possible.

Fuck, yes!

The quivering in his bollocks told him the effort was reaping results.

As for the lass, her hands were fastened upon his shoulders, her bosom buffeting his chin with each bounce. ‘Twas a shame she was fully clad. From what he could surmise, the breasts in question had a good weight to them. Unrestrained, they’d present a lively sight.

His imagination took over, picturing erect, rosy nipples and the noise she’d make as he took one into his mouth. Sucking upon a goodly aroused peak always sent the ladies over, and Rutger prided himself on being a generous lover.

Even if some don’t appreciate it!

Against his will, an image flashed into his mind of his former betrothed, Tyra, sitting upon his lap, much as this lass was. She’d used him as suited her, and it was his brother Ragnut’s cock she rode now.

Fuck them both!

Rutger gritted his teeth, jerking the woman straddling him all the harder. She squeaked in response, digging her nails where she clasped him. Her noises were surely of enjoyment—panting and mewling, then a louder cry as he thrust upward for his final release.

Holding her fixedly, he pumped inside.

Immediately, a wash of relief came over him, his bones softly humming and his thoughts languid. With a sigh, he flopped horizontal again.

The wench sat upon him still, her gaze bewildered.

Rutger surveyed her through narrowed eyes. She was much as any other—her hair, plaited in a circle about her crown, was middling fair, her eyes some shade of blue, her features regular. Her lips were good, full and reddened, tinged with the same flush that stained her cheeks, as all women possessed after they’d received a thorough swiving .

There was little else remarkable, yet Rutger was surprised he’d never noticed her before. The curve of her hip and bosom was enough to draw a man’s attention. Even in Skálavík, where attractive women were plentiful, one as well-proportioned as this would not go unnoticed .

His focus returned to her face. The dazed look had gone, replaced by something more determined. Her jaw was set, and her expression was wary.

“A pleasant romp.” He ought to humor her, he supposed; ‘twould gain his release all the quicker. “Didst reach your woman’s peak?”

“Ha! As if I’d delight in coupling with a clodpole like you!”

“And yet, I heard you make moan.” Cushioning his head in the crook of his arm, he made himself more comfortable. “The sort of moan a woman only makes when she’s enjoying herself.”

“Pffft!” With a purse of her lips, she climbed off, pressing unnecessarily hard as she did so, right upon his bladder. “Any moan I did make was in protest at all the shaking about.”

The wench was bending over now, brushing down her skirts. It afforded him a nice view of her cleavage.

Two dumplings—one for each hand.

Again, his mind strayed to the thought of how she’d look naked. Was there time for a second bout? His cock was softening, but he’d a talent for a swift turnabout. A few strokes of his hand would see him on his way.

Even better, a few strokes of hers.

“You’re a pretty maid, to be sure.” Ignoring the various aches in his body, Rutger sat up again. “I must away soon, Sweetling, upon a perilous journey, but the memory of our bedsport shall hearten me. Come closer, little rosebud. Untie me, won’t you? Then give me a kiss.”

Standing over him, she folded her arms. “Brunhilda might think you’ve kissome lips, but I’ve more sense… and stop using those love names!”

Rutger gave an inward chuckle. Clearly, ‘twas the lass herself who thought his lips ‘kissome’, and she no doubt liked his sweet talk. Tyra—deceitful wench that she was—had been the same, seemingly protesting when she was naught but eager for a mounting.

“As for untying you, put that notion out of your head. You’re mine, to do with as I like, and you won’t be going anywhere.”

Odin’s nads! This one’s feisty!

A jolt of desire shot through Rutger’s groin. If she wanted him as her plaything, it might be worth incurring Eldberg’s wrath. He’d no objection to being a slave to her whims—for a while, at least.

“I’m all yours, Heartling, and I’m very obliging. If there’s something particular you want, you’ve only to tell me.” Rutger wiggled his brows.

In fact, I’d like that very much.

He’d tried encouraging Tyra many a time to describe to him exactly what she’d like. She’d never deigned to do so, then had the gall to throw it in his face, saying he’d no idea how to please her. Women were contrary creatures, pretending to want one thing, then veering another way.

The woman—Grethe—pulled a face. “I’m not your Heartling, you sapskull! And,”—she let out an exasperated breath—“stop acting as if you’re enjoying this. You’re not supposed to! I’ve tied you up, and you’ll do as you’re told.”

Rutger couldn’t help but grin. “I’m all ears… and cock. Quite a lot of cock.” He made a suggestive thrust with his hips.

The wench was a funny one, but he rather liked it. No sooner did a thought seem to enter her head than it was out of her mouth. ‘Twas refreshing.

“Insufferable!” Most rudely, she poked out her tongue, then pushed his chest with her foot.

‘Twas her mistake, for Rutger—quick as a flash—grasped her ankle. One yank and she was off balance, tumbling full on top of him in all his glorious nakedness.

Opening his legs, he trapped hers within. “You were showing me your tongue?” He darted out his own. “I’ve a suggestion as to what you can do with it.”

“Oaf!” She struggled, pushing with her fists, but there seemed no real strength in the protest.

When he brought his left arm across the small of her back, he noticed how her gaze dropped to his lips. She moved slightly, rubbing against the hardened part of him.

Breathing hard, she lowered her mouth, plainly wanting him to make a move. It took no effort at all for him to touch there with his own. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers, tugging and coaxing, before sucking her tongue into his mouth.

Fire and blood! His heart was pounding .

She tasted delicious. Of honey, mostly, as if she’d been eating the stuff on purpose, just to taste sweet for him.

Pulling back a moment, she murmured something. It sounded like ‘loathsome clump,’ but then she dove in again, and Rutger swore it was she kissing him rather than the other way about.

With a throaty growl, he let her do just that.