Page 47 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
“You think you’re Eirik’s true love? That he’ll forsake his duty and return to marry you? Are you still eager for some sign?” His smile was crooked, lacking mirth. “Have you not noticed that he’s made no haste to return.”
I twisted away, not wishing him to see the tears which had sprung, for he had hit his target, voicing what I was only too ready to believe. Anger flared in me, towards Eirik and Gunnolf, though I was most angry with myself. I’d been a fool to believe that Eirik could love me in the way I wished him to.
The jarl stroked his beard as he spoke and a new wickedness entered his eyes. “My brother and I always shared everything, Elsywth. Shall we not share you?”
“I’ve already tasted that wine, my Lord, and found it lacking sweetness.” I lowered my eyes for, despite all, I felt the tug of my womb and cunt for him. The lust which had consumed me atOstarahad brought me shame and self-loathing, but I hadn’t forgotten the satisfaction of that terrible abandonment, however fleeting.
“Sweetness isn’t what I’m offering.” Gunnolf’s mouth twitched in a disdainful leer.
Under his scrutiny, the clothes peeled back from my body, the skin from my bones, showing all I wished to hide.
“What is it you want?” My voice trembled.
“I’ll show you.”
He rose from the bench and held out his hand, pointing to the corner of the room and clicking his fingers, summoning not I but Faline.
She came forward, knowing, I supposed, that to refuse would bring worse consequences.
“An obedient creature, when she wants to be.” Gunnolf turned her face upward, surveying the injuries of his making.
He pinched her cheek roughly, then spun her round, pushing her to bend over the table, directing her to raise her skirts.
He must have beaten her quite recently, for the welts were still livid across her buttocks—blue, without any hint of yellowing. He unclasped his belt and pulled the leather through, releasing it from his trousers. “But, sometimes, the pleasure is in defiance.” He looked back at me over his shoulder. “And struggle…”
My mouth grew dry, watching him, waiting for him to raise the leather to her poor skin. There was no love lost between Faline and I, but I had no wish to see her suffer.
“It’s shameful for a man to harm a woman, or for him to take her body when she has no desire.”
“You think this one has no desire?” Gunnolf slapped Faline’s backside and I winced to see her flinch. “She likes to fight but she likes fucking even more… and she is made for fucking.” He lingered over the last word and pulled the belt tight between his hands but, instead of raising his arm to strike her with its edge, he pulled her hands awkwardly behind her back, wrapping the belt’s length around her wrists.
He lowered his mouth to the bruise on her rounded cheek and bit the flesh savagely, evoking her sharp intake of breath.
He kicked her legs wider, entering her with his fingers, then splaying her labia.
“You see this; made for my pleasure?”
It was not the first time I’d seen Faline’s cunt engorged, waiting for a man. The last time, it had been Eirik burying himself inside her, upon the banqueting table of my husband’s hall, cheered on by every Northman present. Faline had taken many that night, but her prize was Eirik—he the one she’d most desired.
Gunnolf let his trousers drop, revealing a full erection from the dark bush of his groin, the head beaded with excitement. He took it in his hand, stroking the skin, a smile playing upon his lips.
I expected him to jab inside, to take her brutally, forcing his penetration. Instead, he ran the slick head of his cock through Faline’s slit. He teased her with half-thrusts, rubbing against the tender nub of her cunt. She lifted her rump to encourage his entry.
“Please…” I heard her whimper. “Please, my Lord.”
He aligned himself, claiming with one smooth motion, pushing deep before easing back to enter again.
Faline moaned in response, whispering again, as if to herself. “Please…”
A heat began to burn me. The heat not just of anger but of desire, my own cunt filling with cream.
“There’s more than one place to fuck a woman, of course.” Gunnolf’s voice was cold as he withdrew, slick with her juices, raising his cock to press against her anus. Faline gave a strangled cry but Gunnolf held her firm against the table. She squirmed only briefly before he pushed past her initial resistance.
As his buttocks clenched and relaxed, she uttered low groans, as of a creature caught in a trap yet with no desire to escape. He kept his rhythm until the end, culminating in his final convulsions of pleasure.
I hadn’t moved from where I stood. I’d waited, with the growing knowledge that, when he turned to me, I would submit.
I’d pour out all my bitterness—at Eirik, and at Gunnolf too. I’d make Gunnolf roar, as his brother had done. Neither would be more or less than the other. Gunnolf was just a man; I’d use him to sate my need. Gunnolf wished a slave to command but I would command him, take him, own him!
