Page 14 of Her Viking Master

“That’s it,lille en,” Sven murmured approvingly. “Embrace your new role. Let go of your shame and your fear. There is only service now, only devotion to your master. In a few moments, you will have mypikin your little mouth, until you learn to make the seed come and fill your little belly. Prepare yourself for that new duty.”

CHAPTER8

Mary

As if his words had broken some final barrier, I felt a tide of surrender wash over me. My body relaxed, yielding completely to Sven’s probing caress. Next to me, I heard Camille let out a muffled moan, as if she had tried as hard as she could to resist the pleasure, and had finally failed.

“Let go, Camille, you naughty girl. Pee over my hand to show your submission, or I’ll whip your bottom for you,” Erik growled, close enough for me to hear the shameful command.

My face burned with secondhand embarrassment. Camille’s response came immediately, her voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and fear.

“Non! Jamais!I won’t do it, you can’t make me!” she cried out. But beneath her words, I detected a note of desperate arousal that made my own body clench in response.

Erik’s low chuckle sent shivers down my spine. “Oh,ma petite rebelle,” he purred, his accent thick with amusement and lust. “You will learn.”

The sharp crack of a whip cut through the air, followed by Camille’s agonized scream. I flinched at the sound, my body tensing in sympathetic pain. Another lash fell, and another. Camille’s cries grew more frantic with each strike, a stream of French pleas and curses pouring from her lips.

“Please,maître!” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “I can’t… I won’t…”

But even as she protested, I could hear the change in her tone. The defiance was crumbling, replaced by a desperate need to submit, to please. I knew that feeling all too well now, the conflicting desires warring within her just as they had within me.

“Let go, Camille,” Erik commanded, his voice a low growl. “Show me your submission.”

There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by Camille’s ragged breathing. Then I heard it—the soft patter of liquid hitting skin, followed by Erik’s grunt of approval.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Now, let’s see how well you respond to reward.”

Camille’s gasp of shock quickly turned into a moan of pleasure. I could imagine Erik’s large hand cupping the littlefissehe had opened on his hardness, his fingers expertly stroking and teasing as she continued to relieve herself. The wet sounds of his ministrations filled the air, mingling with Camille’s increasingly desperate whimpers.

“Oh… oh, God,” she panted, her voice thick with shame and arousal. “Please… I can’t… it’s too…”

But Erik was relentless. “You can, and you will,” he growled. “Come for me,lille en. Show everyone how much you love being my dirty little slut.”

Camille’s cries reached a fever pitch, her body clearly teetering on the edge of release. I felt my own arousal building in response, my hips grinding shamelessly against the bench beneath me.

With a final, keening wail, Camille came. Her screams of ecstasy echoed off the stone walls, sending shockwaves of secondhand pleasure through my body. I could hear the wet sounds of Erik’s fingers working her through her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure until her cries turned to whimpers.

The cavern filled with a cacophony of sounds—the sharp crack of whips, the desperate cries of the other girls, and the low grunts of the men as they doled out punishment and pleasure in what seemed equal measure. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations, but it only seemed to heighten my other senses.

The wooden bench beneath me creaked and groaned with each movement, and suddenly I felt as though we truly were at sea. In my mind’s eye, I could see the waves around us and ahead of us, feel the salt spray stinging my skin as we sailed into the unknown. The rocking motion seemed to intensify, and I found myself swaying with it, my body moving of its own accord.

I became acutely aware of every point of contact between my skin and the rough wood. The grain pressed patterns into my flesh, marking me as surely as any brand. My nipples, already tender and swollen, scraped against the bench with each roll of my hips, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through my body.

Sven’s hand never left my pussy, his fingers working me with maddening skill. I felt myself growing wetter by the moment, my arousal mixing with the remnants of my earlier shame. The scent of sex and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the imagined brine of a stormy sea.

Through the haze of sensation, I vaguely registered that Sven was moving. His touch remained constant between my thighs, but I could sense him circling around the bench. My breath caught in my throat as I realized he was coming to stand in front of me.

I wanted desperately to open my eyes, to see what he was doing, but fear kept them tightly shut. What if I saw something I couldn’t unsee? What if looking made this all too real?

But even with my eyes closed, I could feel Sven’s presence looming over me. The heat of his body radiated against my face, and I caught the musky scent of his skin—clean from the bath, but with an underlying note of pure masculinity that made my insides clench with need.

His free hand came to rest on the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. The gentle pressure was at odds with the continued assault of his other hand between my legs. I whimpered, torn between pressing back against his skilled fingers and leaning into the comforting touch on my scalp.

“Open your eyes, Mary,” Sven commanded, his voice low and husky. “Look upon your master.”

I trembled, caught between obedience and terror. What would I see when I opened my eyes? The kind professor I had admired from afar? Or the Viking warrior who had claimed my body so thoroughly?

As I hesitated, the sounds of the cavern seemed to swell around me. I could hear Camille’s muffled sobs as Erik continued to work her body, pushing her toward another peak. Amélie moaned as Henrik evidently alternated lashes with the probing of thick, but deft warrior fingers.

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