Page 47 of Her Viking Master

I felt my cheeks flush hot at Sven’s words, a confusing mix of shame and arousal traveling through me. The implication was clear—I would enjoy it when other men used me, whether I wanted to or not. My body had been trained to respond to dominant touch, to crave the pleasure that came with submission. The realization terrified me, even as I tried to press down the helpless excitement it roused.

Sven’s large hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “Lille en,” he murmured, his voice gentle, “you must understand that yourHerraunderstands your need for domination by strangers. Truly, you don’t need permission to enjoy it, but I give you that permission nonetheless.”

I leaned into his touch, desperate for the comfort and reassurance it provided. How had I come to this point, where the thought of being used by unknown men could provoke such a response in me? Just days ago, I had been a normal college student, my biggest worry being my next exam.

“ButHerra,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “what if… what if I enjoy it too much? What if I forget my purpose, forget you?”

Sven’s eyes met mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. “You won’t forget, Mary,” he said firmly. “The connection between us, between avölvaand her master, goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You carry a part of me with you always, just as I carry a part of you.”

His words settled something within me, a fear I hadn’t even fully acknowledged. I nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

“Are you ready?” Sven asked, holding up the ball gag.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Yes,Herra,” I replied, opening my mouth obediently.

The rubber ball pressed against my tongue, filling my mouth. Sven secured the straps behind my head, his fingers lingering for a moment at the nape of my neck. The gag wasn’t uncomfortable, but it served as an urgent reminder of my helplessness, of the role I was about to play.

Across from me, Erik finished securing Camille’s gag. Her dark eyes met mine. We were in this together, bound not just by the physical restraints, but by our shared inner conflict.

CHAPTER24

Mary

“From this moment forward,” Erik told us gravely, “we must treat you as ordinary captive concubines: nothing but fuck toys.”

I trembled, swallowing hard as I felt my body react.

“Beaumont will do the same,” Sven said, his voice matter-of-fact, as if he meant to keep his emotions on the matter hidden. “Do you understand?”

Camille and I nodded, the ball gags preventing any verbal response.

Sven got in the driver’s seat while Erik stayed in the back with us. As the van pulled out onto the street, I felt a rush of anxiety so forceful it made me dizzy. We were leaving the safety of the Sons of Odin’s sanctuary and venturing into a world where we would be viewed as captives, as property to be bought and sold.

I watched Erik’s face change as we drove, his expression hardening into something cold and unfamiliar. Gone was the man who had shown moments of tenderness. In his place sat a stranger—one who looked at Camille and me as if we were nothing more than objects.

Camille seemed to sense the shift as well. She began to struggle against her restraints, crying out around her gag. The muffled sounds of her distress filled the van.

Without warning, Erik’s hand cracked across Camille’s face. The sharp sound of the slap made me flinch.

“Did I tell you to make a noise, slut?” Erik growled, his voice harsh and unfamiliar.

I couldn’t help it—I let out a cry of mingled horror and, much worse, helpless arousal at the sight. Immediately, Erik’s hand connected with my cheek as well. The sting of it brought tears to my eyes.

“And you? You’re making noise too?” Erik sneered.

From the front, Sven called back in a hard voice, asking if we were giving Erik trouble. My heart clenched at how cold and distant he sounded—so unlike the man who had held me in his strong arms just hours before.

Erik responded that it was nothing he wouldn’t enjoy handling. He emphasized his words with another slap to each of our faces.

Camille’s eyes met mine, wide with shock and fear. I had to swallow down the saliva that had gathered in my mouth, fighting against a wave of nausea. To my horror and shame, I realized I had gotten terribly, terribly aroused. The hot, tingling ache between my legs was unmistakable. Glancing at Camille’s hardened nipples, I saw the same must be true for her.

The van sped through the streets of Rouen. I could see glimpses of the city through the windshield—picturesque buildings and quaint cafés that seemed to belong to another world entirely. The normalcy of it all felt surreal in contrast to our captive state.

Sven’s face, visible in the rearview mirror, was set in harsh lines. The loving master I knew had departed. It filled me with an impossible-to-untangle mixture of dread, love, and lust.

As the van left the outskirts of Rouen behind, Erik’s attention turned to our bodies. His large hands reached out, roughly grasping my breasts. I couldn’t help but whimper around my gag as he kneaded the soft flesh, his fingers finding my nipples and pinching them hard. The sharp pain made me arch my back involuntarily, even as I tried to shrink away from his touch.

“You’ll get used to this,” Erik told me coldly. “A little anyway.”

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