Page 71 of Her Viking Master

The wrongness of it, the danger, only heightened my arousal. My pussy clenched yet again and I could feel the wet heat gathering inside me, readying me for Marmareus’ thrusting cock though I truly belonged to another man.

A better man… myHerra… the man I love,I told myself desperately.

I raised my eyes to meetLeoMarmareus’ flinty gaze.

“May I please,Leo?” I whispered. “May I… may I have your big, beautiful cock in my little mouth?”

CHAPTER36

Mary

Deep in my mind, in a place that seemed somehow guarded from the swirling winds of need and fear, thevölvain me observed and understood.

As if she… I… that part of me…

As if I had an essential piece of my spirit dwelling in a hollow shielded by the roots of Yggdrasil, some version of me who could see everything I did and everything that happened to me, and discern what it really meant.

That calm, observing Mary realized thatLeoMarmareus had easily perceived the falsity of this crude, naive attempt at a slutty persona. I could even see that if he had believed it—if he thought I really was simply afraid for my and Camille’s safety, and I was begging him to use me because I thought he might kill us otherwise—he would have refused to go along with the seduction.

But he knew that I was trying to play him. He believed me, but he didn’t trust me.LeoMarmareus meant to figure out what I was really up to—and he thought he had the advantage, because he had seen through me.

I didn’t know whether I actually had the upper hand, in being able to see that, but I felt that I had at least gotten onto a level playing field. The problem, though—the terrible problem—lay between my thighs, where my shameful need for his dominance, for his jutting cock, threatened to steal all that complex reasoning away.

“Open wide, you little whore,” Marmareus commanded, and I obeyed with a humiliating jerk of my hips, a helpless physical response I instantly wished I had faked instead.

He had his manhood in his left hand. His right hand settled on the back of my head, fingers twining gently in my hair, then abruptly tightening their grip to hold me still as he prepared to thrust himself into my mouth.

“Be ready, girl,” he warned. “Men like me fuck hard.”

Suddenly he had driven his rigid penis deep between my lips. His left hand joined his right, imprisoning my head completely so he could use my mouth exactly as he pleased.

I sobbed with need and shame, opening my throat to take him deeper. Marmareus’ hips snapped forward, driving his cock past my gag reflex. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I fought to relax, to be a good girl for him the way Sven had taught me.

As Marmareus used my mouth ruthlessly, I couldn’t help losing myself in the sheer sensations of the humiliating moment. The observer, in her hollow, followed along, but she offered no opinion. The fullness of my throat, the ache in my jaw, the wet sounds of my submission—it all blended together into a haze of pleasure and degradation.

I became nothing but a vessel for this enemy agent’s lust, and a surge of heat flooded my upper body as I knew myself a little more thoroughly—as this kind of girl… the slutty, submissive kind. The sort of bed thrall into which Sven had shaped me because he had recognized my shameful nature.

I… Mary O’Toole… a little whore who needed fucking by many strong men, many brutal strangers… men who thrust hard, like the one using me now… the gorgeous, powerful man whose rigid manhood I did my best to please here in the lair of my master’s foes.

Marmareus continued to use my mouth as if it were a sex toy he could treat precisely as he wished. His cock seemed to drive deeper into my throat with each thrust. In spite of the obscenity, the brutality—no, I realized to my dismay,because of it—arousal continued to course through my body. My nipples had hardened to stiff peaks, and I could feel the gathered wetness begin to drip onto my thighs.

“My, my,” Marmareus said, his voice cool and detached even amid the pleasure I knew he must be feeling. “You’ve developed your skills quite well in such a short time, haven’t you, little whore?”

His words sent a wrenching, conflicting surge of pride and mortification through me. I whimpered around his thick shaft, torn between wanting to please him and hating myself for that very desire.

As he thrust faster, I sensed a change in his rhythm. His breathing grew heavier, and his grip on my hair tightened. I realized with a mix of relief and triumph that he must be getting close to his orgasm.

At least I would succeed in making him come. Perhaps that would prove my value, my willingness to cooperate. Maybe it would help protect Camille and me from whatever torments the Pretorian Guard might have in store for us.

Just as I braced myself to receive his release and swallow it obediently, Marmareus suddenly pulled his cock from my mouth. I gasped, blinking up at him in confusion as he stepped back. To my dismay, I heard myself let out a pathetic whimper as I watched him tuck his still-hard penis back into his trousers.

“Please,” I whispered, hardly believing the neediness in my own voice. “I… I can finish you. Let me make you come.”

Marmareus regarded me coolly, his dark eyes inscrutable. “You haven’t earned the gift of my seed in your body yet,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’m certain you’re not being entirely truthful with me, Mary.”

My heart pounded in my chest, but I felt sure that Marmareus didn’t really mean it. I could see that his instincts had told him that something didn’t add up, but also that he didn’t know what it was. I had to press my advantage, to keep him off balance.

“Please,” I begged, my voice hoarse from the rough treatment my throat had received. “I’ll do anything. Just… just fuck me. Use me however you want.”

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