Page 57 of Her Viking Master

Since that first night, though, Beaumont hadn’t used us sexually again. It puzzled me and, if I were honest with myself, unsettled me a little. Not that I wanted him to use me, of course. Or… I told myself that, anyway. But it seemed strange that he would go to the trouble of acquiring us only to ignore us.

As I knelt here now, my mouth working over Beaumont’s cock while Georgy waited his turn, I couldn’t help but wonder about the reason for his restraint. It must have something to do with his alliance with the Sons of Odin, I thought; perhaps he feared and respected Sven and his brothers too much to do more than keep up the appearance of using their bed thralls.

Here, though, in a meeting with a Russian warlord, Beaumont obviously wanted to give the impression that his captive concubines were eager fuck toys, available to honored guests. My naked body’s reaction troubled me: after two days without stimulation I could feel my pussy respond with an excitement that seemed a humiliating confirmation of what myHerrahad said about my need to serve the lewd demands of men I didn’t know.

I worked my tongue along the underside of Beaumont’s shaft, trying to focus on gathering information rather than the shame burning through me. My body betrayed me, though, a familiar heat building between my thighs. I longed desperately for another vision of Yggdrasil, for some mystical insight that might make sense of this madness.

“Mmm,” Beaumont hummed, his fingers tightening in my hair. “Such a talented little whore.”

Georgy grunted in agreement. “Indeed. But I think it’s time I sample that sweet cunt of hers.”

My stomach clenched at his words, a confusing mix of revulsion and anticipation coursing through me. As Beaumont pulled me off his cock, I caught a glimpse of Georgy’s massive member, angry and red with arousal. I swallowed hard, steeling myself for what was to come.

But before Georgy could make a move, an idea seemed to strike him. His eyes lit up with a cruel gleam that made me shiver.

“You know, my friend,” he said to Beaumont, his accent thicker with lust, “I have a thought. Why don’t we seal our deal properly? Let’s fuck this little slut together.”

CHAPTER29

Mary

Beaumont’s eyebrows rose, a slow smile spreading across his face. “An excellent suggestion,” he purred. “What do you have in mind?”

Georgy’s grin widened, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally white against his tanned skin. “You sit on the couch. Make her ride you. Then I’ll take her ass while she’s on your cock.”

I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips at his words. The thought of being stretched so completely, filled by both men at once, sent a jolt of terror through me. And yet, to my shame, I felt a fresh gush of wetness between my thighs.

Beaumont nodded, settling himself on the plush leather couch. He crooked a finger at me, his eyes cold and predatory. “Come here, whore. Time to show what that sweet cunt of yours is good for.”

On trembling legs, I approached him. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me to straddle his lap. I could feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against the entrance to my mortifyingly hot sheath, and I closed my eyes, trying to center myself.

“Open your eyes, whore,” Beaumont commanded harshly. “I want to see the moment you take me inside you.”

I obeyed, forcing my eyes open to meet his steely gaze. Slowly, agonizingly, he lowered me onto his shaft. I couldn’t hold back a gasp as he filled me completely.

“That’s it,” Beaumont groaned, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Take it all like a good little slut.”

As I adjusted, whimpering, to the intrusion, I felt Georgy move behind me. His large hands gripped my hips, and I tensed in anticipation.

“Relax, little one,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Or this will hurt much more than it needs to.”

I let out a sob of utter debasement as I heard the criminal warlord call melittle one, the same thing—though, thank God, not the very same words—my true master called me. I tried to force my body to loosen, but it was nearly impossible with Beaumont’s thick shaft already stretching me so completely. I felt the blunt head of Georgy’s cock press against the tiny aperture, and I couldn’t hold back a cry of fear and unwanted arousal.

Georgy pushed forward slowly, but relentlessly. The burn was intense, almost unbearable. I cried out, tears streaming down my face as he breached me fully.

“So tight,” Georgy groaned. “Like a virgin.”

“She practically is,” Beaumont chuckled darkly. “At least when it comes to being used like this.”

The two men began to move in tandem, thrusting into me with a brutal rhythm that left me gasping for air. The sensation of being so completely filled, stretched to my absolute limit, overwhelmed me. Pain and pleasure blurred together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

As they used me, treating my body like nothing more than a receptacle for their lust, I felt myself slipping away. The physical sensations began to fade, replaced by a rushing sound like wind through ancient branches. Suddenly, I was no longer in Beaumont’s opulent study. Instead, I found myself standing at the base of Yggdrasil, the world tree.

The trunk rose before me, impossibly vast and etched with countless runes. As I gazed upon it, I realized I was seeing the present moment, frozen in time. Images flickered across the bark—Beaumont’s and Georgy’s faces contorted in pleasure, my own body caught between them.

But there was something else, something I hadn’t noticed before. As my consciousness drifted around the trunk of Yggdrasil, I saw flashes of other moments from the past few days. Jean, the guard who had escorted Camille and me to our rooms that first night, appeared in many of them.

With a jolt of realization, I understood. Jean wasn’t just a guard—he was the Pretorian Guard agent, hidden in plain sight. The way he moved, the careful blankness of his expression, the subtle ways he positioned himself to overhear conversations—it all made sense now.

---