Ravish Her Completely (4 page)

Agata stared at the man in front of her, all hard, scarred, and defined muscles. He was so big … everywhere. She swallowed, not feeling confident that she could act like she wanted this even though she wanted to run away. He aroused her. There was no doubt about it. He was an attractive man in a brutal, “he’d kill someone with his bare hands” kind of way. But despite the fact she’d never seen a man in the flesh that looked like that and who wanted her, she also knew she couldn’t stay here.

Agata wasn’t about to entertain the idea that whatever potion that old woman had given her had somehow transferred her to this In-Between world, to this alternate dimension. That was too farfetched, too unbelievable for her.

The truth was she was probably taken after she passed out at the festival, drugged by the old bitch, and sold like cattle. But who in the hell wanted to live like this, isolated from everyone else, and acting as if they were trapped in the age of the Vikings? She needed to find someone that spoke English, or at least a dialect of Norwegian she could understand.

“Konna, jeg vil lauga deg minn.” He pulled her closer to his nude form, and she swallowed when her gaze dropped down to his cock again. God, this man was monstrous in the nether region. He was also uncut¸ and although she wasn’t a virgin, she felt like one in this instance.

She’d never been with a man uncircumcised, never even seen one in movies. Maybe she was a prude in most cases, but this man looked like he’d tear her in two if he tried shoving that thing inside of her. Agata was frozen in place when he started slipping off her blouse, and although this was not something she should be allowing, a fire started inside of her when he’d touched her.

The shirt was now gone, and he started undoing her pants. When those were removed he stared at her in her bra and panties, this string of words leaving him and confusion covering his face. He picked at her bra, ran his fingers over the underwire, and did the same to the lace at the top of her underwear. These weren’t even her good undergarments, yet he was heating her further with every stroke of his finger along her flesh.

He then removed her bra one strap at a time. Her breasts sprang free as soon as the wire and fabric didn’t constrict them anymore. She was a bigger girl, thick and curvy, and a healthy size sixteen. She’d always loved her body, even if society and some of her boyfriends hadn’t cared for the larger frame she sported. But this man was staring at her like he wanted all of her, wanted to caress her curves and bumps with every part of his body.

His cock seemed to grow bigger, if that was even possible, and she licked her lips and tore her gaze from his cock. His blue eyes were trained right on her, intense, demanding, controlling. He cupped a breast, and she knew she should have slapped him, maybe kicked him in the dick, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

“Agata, du er veldig
falleg.”

The way he said her name, spoke in that thickly accented, strange Scandinavian language, turned her on. She wasn’t even going to lie or deny it. She was wet right now, her nipples hard, and her body feeling hot.

Keep your mind intact, girl!

She’d play the part, but she wouldn’t succumb inside. She pushed her panties down, held her back straight, and let him look his fill … which he most certainly did. She felt her strength in this matter grow, and she smiled sweetly, leaned in, and watched the guarded expression cross his face. Good, he should be on the defense, because she wasn’t going to stand here and let him claim her like a barbarian in the middle ages.

“You’ll never have me, not really.” She spoke softly, gently, knowing he didn’t understand her. “I won’t make this easy on you either.” She added a little moan on the end. His nostrils flared, and she thought maybe she’d gotten a little jab at him even if he didn’t know what she’d said. This man could read people—that was clear by the intelligence reflected in his blue gaze. He didn’t speak English, or the dialect of Norwegian that she knew, but he could “read” her.

“Konna, eg er ingen heimskr.” He leaned back, had his hands on her waist in a matter of seconds, and before she could process what was happening he lifted her in the air.

She cried out in surprise and braced her hands on his shoulder to balance herself. He had her in the tub seconds later. Agata was taken so off guard that she slipped, and before she fell into the tiny thing and probably injured something else he had her braced against the hardness of his body.

She had her hands on his pecs, felt the strength that came from him, and looked down to see the intricately woven tattoos on his flesh. The symbols were sharp lines, twisting and curving around the definition of his muscles. She could have gotten lost in those designs, lost in this man that made her feel these dark, wrong desires.

Agata pulled away from him and promptly sat in the water, trying to cover herself up. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and stared up at him. He went over to the table and grabbed a basin of steaming water. She stared at his back, and the lash marks crisscrossing his tanned, toned flesh, and wondered who had done that to him. But despite her better judgment she found herself lowering her gaze along the tattoos, and lower still until she stared at his ass. God, she’d never been one to appreciate the male ass, but Stian certainly had one that was chiseled out of marble.

When he turned back around with the basin in hand she looked up at him, feeling her cheeks heat with the thought he’d seen her checking him out. Turning her head away from him when he smirked, she grew pissed, so angry that she was helpless right now. He bent down, and she felt her eyes widen and straightened her back when he reached in the tub and grabbed for a cloth. Smacking his hand away when he brushed along her thigh, she grabbed he cloth from him.

“I can wash myself.” This was not what she wanted, being bathed by a barbarian, but she also couldn’t deny the warm water and oils he’d put into the water made her feel semi-human again. He let out a gruff noise, but did give her the rag.

She turned her back to him, looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes, and cursed under her breath. Yeah, she’d said she would try and play along, but that was harder than she thought. One side of her wanted to just give in and play the part, think of a way to escape, but then another part said she should never relent toward this man that was holding her prisoner. He’d chained her up like he owned her or something, and she wouldn’t submit to him.

After she finished washing herself and hiding her body as much as she could, she looked at him again and saw him staring at her with a blank expression, His eyes were so blue, so penetrating, that she felt bared in not just the literal sense, but the figurative as well.

She told herself that being shy around this man needed to be eradicated, because he clearly didn’t care about his nudity. He was still so hard, so aroused, and she forced herself not to look, not to ogle like a damn pervert of a captive lusting after her captor. No, she wouldn’t go down that route.

Grabbing the longer cloth he handed her, she rose from the tub and covered her breasts and mound with the cloth. It was thicker, slightly scratchy, and as she rubbed her body dry right before wrapping it around her, she kept her focus on the wooden planked floor.

He started speaking in his language, and although she found it fascinating and beautiful she also grew frustrated.

“I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying.” She found the humor in the fact she couldn’t understand him, yet she answered him in frustration knowing he couldn’t answer her. Closing her eyes and trying to gain her strength and a semblance of calm, she fought with herself over what was the right thing she should be doing right now.

Getting out of the tub, she moved quickly to the corner of the room where the pallet she’d slept on the night before was. Stian stared at her for a long moment, the moved over to the basin of water and climbed in. He looked ridiculous in the small thing given the fact he was huge. She couldn’t help but watch, couldn’t but help look at the beads of water trailing down the hard muscles of his abdomen. He was built like a tank, indestructible and deadly.

“Konna, ser på meg barenteg gjør meg sárþarfnast du mer.” When he turned just his head, looked at her over his shoulder, and his blue gaze pierced her, she felt a chill of cold air move through her.

For the next ten minutes she got dressed when his back was toward her, picking up the articles of clothing he’d tossed on the pallet when she’d been in the basin and cleaning off. The clothes were loose, but there was a leather tie or strap of some sort.

When she had the cream colored shift on she tied the leather strap around her waist. Looking back at him, she saw he was facing her now. She wore no undergarments, and her nipples got hard at the fact he was stroking himself.
What a fucking pig.
Yet the desire coursed through her violently like a tempting serpent, weaving its way through her erogenous zones and making her feel ashamed she felt this.

He finished cleaning himself off, stroking himself until there was no filth left on his body, and only the golden, hard male flesh was revealed. Once out of the water and dressed in a pair of suede looking pants with leather ties in the front, he moved over to the table and started back in on the fish.

He held up a finished fillet, pointed his knife to it, and said in a deeply thick voice, “Fiskr.” He pointed the knife to the fish.

She licked her lips and nodded. “Fish. Yeah, I see that.”

For a moment he didn’t say anything, but then he slapped the fish on the wooden table and pointed the knife at the crudely made bench off to the side.

“Eta.”

She could assume what he’d said.
Eat
. He wanted her to eat the fish. She was hungry, so she went over to the bench and sat down, keeping her gaze locked on him as he cooked the fish on the open fire until the scent was sweet and slightly salty, and made her stomach growl in hunger.

He brought the cooked fillets to her, offered her the meat on a bone plate, and she curled her lip slightly at the fact it looked like a hollowed femur of a large creature. She took the offered meal, glanced at Stian, and waited until he started to eat his portion.

“Thanks,” she whispered softly, not knowing why she was grateful for anything this man gave her.

For the next twenty minutes they ate in silence, the sound of the fire crackling right in front of them seeming overly loud, and the feel of Stian watching her a little unnerving. Once finished he took their plates and lifted her up. She was forced to brace her hands on his chest for support, smelled the clean, crisp scent of his body invade her senses, and pulled away. Or at least she tried.

Stian grabbed her wrists and led her over to the pallet. She struggled when he tried to pull her down on it, but he was so much stronger than she was. When they were both lying down, her back to his chest, and his very pronounced erection digging in the small of her back, she squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her thighs together.

The sound of him inhaling at the top of her head seemed loud, and she thought about other things, about things that were not of this situation, of this nightmare. She pictured herself back home, alone and safe in her home. It was a nice thought, a nice desire, but there was no escaping this reality.

Stian inhaled from Agata’s delicious smelling hair. It was a combination of the Locca flowers he’d picked early in the year and dried, but also her own natural aroma. She was plush and soft in all the right places that a man could appreciate. The firelight and his body warmed her skin, and he rose up on his elbow and looked down at her form.

Her generous breasts could be seen through the thin material of the shift he’d made for her. The way her nipples protruded through the fabric told him that although she was trying to go against him and everything he was, she was aroused. He smoothed a hand down her side and saw the way her breathing increased and her hands tightened in the hides beneath her.

“I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you,” he said, and lowered his head and inhaled again at the base of her throat. She was tense beside him, tried to move away an inch, but he tightened his hold on her waist, and pulled her snugly against his body. He was hard, so fucking hard his balls ached and he yearned to bury his cock inside her lush little body.

“Please, this isn’t right. This isn’t what I want,” she said in a soft, breathy voice. She tried to remove his hand from her waist, but she put no strength behind it. He didn’t know what she’d said, but he could assume she was telling him that she didn’t want this. She might say that, fight him to a point, too, but he also picked up on the little movements she made, as if she were trying to refrain from letting go and letting him touch her the way he wanted. He pushed her hand out of the way and continued to slide it along the slope of her waist, moving his palm forward until he placed it right on her mound.

She was hot, scorching even, and his cock gave a mighty jerk. He’d put leather back on, and only did so because it would help his desires be cooled off slightly. He didn’t want to frighten her, but have her get used to the feeling of him touching her. Moving his hand lower until he cupped her pussy, the only thing blocking him from her bare heat and flesh was the fabric of her shift. He rubbed her, touched her in a way that had her ass pressed right up against his cock, and had her murmuring things in a soft, breathy voice.

“God, why am I allowing this?” she said softly in a voice that was a little strained. He wished he knew what she spoke of, but soon he’d correct that. Soon she’d speak his language, and he could tell her that she was his irrevocably.

Her hands were tightly woven in the hides, had the material wrapped between her little fingers hard enough that her knuckles were white. He rubbed her, applied enough pressure that he started to feel her wetness seep through the material, and growled out in approval. He wouldn’t fuck her, not until he knew she was ready and willing for him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make them both feel good in the meantime.

“So soft and sweet, wet and mine, wife,” he said right by her ear. The way she trembled for him, tried to push him away yet pressed her ass closer to his groin, told him that this female was strong-willed as much as she was giving. He didn’t expect her to give in so easily, or at least he didn’t want her to.

Stian didn’t want a weak female. He was a warrior, and because of that required a woman that could give as good as she took. She’d need to be able to protect herself and take a life if need be.

“You’ll make a good wife, a good mother to my strong sons,” he whispered against her ear. He would teach her his language, show her how they could communicate with each other eventually. Until then they could use their bodies to say what they needed. He removed his hand when she started shaking slightly, grabbed her chin, and turned her head so she was looking at him.

She said a string of words, soft, low, but heated and aroused. Agata lowered her gaze to his mouth, and spoke again. “So crazy that I shouldn’t be wanting the things I do at the moment.”

He watched her lips move, loved that they were full, pink, and slightly glossy because she kept licking at them.

The way she spoke told him she was right here with him. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and he heard her inhale deeply. “Soon, Agata, soon I’ll fill you with my seed and make you big and swollen with my sons. You’ll be mine until the gods take the sun and moon away.” He leaned back and rested against the hides, pulled her close and keeping her tightly to him. He meant everything he said, even if she didn’t know what he said. She would though, and then she’d realize that although he was a beast, a bastard by all accounts, he’d never let her go.

****

Days. It had been days since she’d been taken to this hut, woken up with a chain around her ankle, and realized that her life was not hers anymore. She’d barely spoken since that night he held her, touched her, and whispered things in his language that probably meant she was his. He had no intention of letting her go, that was clear by the way he watched her like a hawk, always making sure he knew where she was. Right now she sat on the chair in front of the fire.

The nights were becoming almost frigid in temperature, and the days were so chilled that she found herself in front of these flames watching Stian. When he did leave the hut it was for short intervals, but he’d always keep her ankle tethered to the wall. It was a masterful knot, with leather and metal worked into it, making it iron tight and unbreakable. Right now she watched him clean the flesh of a pig, gut it and slice it into several pieces and sizes. He hung up some, preserving it by drying it out, and she’d even seen him going to a small shed type building a few feet from the hut. Smoke billowed out of that hut, and she had to guess it was a smoke hut of some sort.

Since waking up in this weird world Agata had been thinking a lot about what that old woman said. The few times she’d looked outside all she saw was thick woods surrounding her, but she felt the breeze come from the distance, and knew there had to be water close. It was strange being able feel that, to know that the water equaled the extra chill in the air.

She’d picked up on some phrases and words over the last few days, knew basic things, and realized that the language he spoke, although different from the Norwegian she’d studied, wasn’t completely foreign. Some of the words were different yet similar enough, and she’d pieced them together, and figured out what he’d meant.

He had a few pieces of pork on a slab of metal, and moved it over to the fire to place it on the flames. The scent of cooking meat, the aroma of bacon, filled her nose and had her belly twisting in hunger.

“I want to go outside, get some fresh air.” She pointed to the door. “Outside.” Then she pointed to herself. “Me, Agata.”

He didn’t respond, just continued to move the meat, cooking both sides, and grabbing a few potatoes and tossing them right on the flames.

She wracked her brain for the words she’d learned in the short time she’d been here. The vocabulary was very limited, but she finally remembered some of the words he’d understand.

“Sol. Uti.” Damn, was she even saying that right? She’d said, or meant to at least, “sun” and “outside”. She couldn’t put the words together, but she hoped he’d understand easily enough.

He set the small knife down and looked at her. For several seconds he didn’t say anything, but then stood, unhooked the chain from her ankle, and grabbed her hand. He led her outside, and the sun, which was just starting to set, blinded her momentarily as it pierced through a space in the trees.

The air was cold, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. Stian pulled her close, had his arm around her shoulders, and his body heat engulfed her. The air felt nice on her face, and even if she’d felt it through the windows in the hut, there was something different about having it wash around her.

Glancing in each direction, she tried to look like she was just looking around at the scenery, but in fact she was trying to remember which way she’d gone for the town. The problem was she couldn’t remember because the feeling of his penetrating stare on her was unnerving. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs she glanced at him.

“Vat?”
Water.
She pointed into the trees, and wracked her mind for the word for sea, but she couldn’t think. He didn’t move, didn’t even speak for several seconds, then tilted his chin toward the left, and she headed that way. He was close behind; she could feel him, sense him.

When the trees parted about five minutes after they’d started walking, she felt her eyes widen at the sight in front of her. Just down a small decline was the shore of a wondrous body of water. Agata couldn’t see past the large mountains that lined either side, and because the water curved toward the right, but she’d assumed this was a sea. The waves brushed along the rocky beach, and she took a step closer, only to be pulled back by Stian.

“Haksi vonki, konna.”

She’d understood the dangerous part, because in her time with him he’d drilled that word into her. But she couldn’t understand the other section. Maybe there were animals, or even the villagers that were dangerous? “I wish I knew what in the hell was going on, what you were saying, and where in the hell I was.” Facing him again she started to head back to the hut, knowing he’d follow. She just knew he’d always follow.

When they were back at his home she looked around, really taking in everything, categorizing all the details that were out in the open. So the water was to her left, and presumably the village might be to her right, but she wasn’t sure about that. This was going to be tricky, and getting away from Stian would be hard, but she had to try. If she didn’t she’d never know what in the hell happened to her. She needed to leave this place, and surviving this situation was of utmost importance. This wasn’t her home, wasn’t where she was supposed to be even if her body heated whenever Stian looked at her.

She moved back into the hut and went over to the pallet. They’d be sleeping soon, and although she hated knowing that he made her sleep beside him, wrapped his thickly corded and muscular body, there was also a part, maybe even a sick and deranged one, that liked the feeling of his big body holding her tight. He wanted her, and that was clear by his actions and the fact he always seemed to have a hard-on.

She spotted her purse tucked in the corner. She was pleased he’d grabbed it, and it was the first time she’d seen something familiar in this new world. Feeling this small little bubble of elation fill her, she grabbed for it and opened the zipper. Inside she had her iPhone, a pair of earbuds, her wallet, and other small things she usually kept with her at all times: deodorant, a few tampons, gum, lotion, tissue, and even a pack of Lifesavers. She looked at where Stian stood, but he was back to cutting the pork and moving it over to the fire.

Agata pulled out her phone, her heart pounding. The thing was still charged, just barely, but it was the fact it had no bars, no little lines that told her she had service that cut her deep. But it didn’t matter because she knew she could still call 911 if there was no service. She dialed the emergency number, looked at Stian, and for some reason she hesitated. When she hit that last number she put it up to her ear, but there was only dead air. Agata tried again, and once more before finally giving up and tossing the phone back in her purse. She took out a stick of gum, and was in the process of putting it in her mouth when she felt Stian’s gaze on her. He was always watching her it seemed.

He walked up to her, took her purse before she could react, and grabbed the phone out. Agata didn’t move, didn’t even react, just found this strange amusement as he stared at the iPhone. He turned it around, upside down, and started tapping on the screen. Music started blasting from the phone, and he promptly dropped it on the ground. She couldn’t help it. She started laughing at the sight of that He-Man suddenly taken off guard by the music. The more she watched him the more she realized he was either a very good actor, or he seriously had no idea what in the hell a cell phone or iPod was.

Tears of amusement tracked down her cheeks, and she was surprised she could find any kind of happiness in this situation. But when this dark look crossed his face and he turned to grab a hand ax from the shelf, faced the phone again, and brought the metal down on it, she sobered instantly.

She jumped as pieces of her phone crushed beneath the onslaught, and shrieked when he brought down the ax again and again until there was nothing but remnants of her phone and case on the floor. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, and her shock filling her, she watched Stian, saw him toss the ax back on the shelf and cross his big arms over his chest like he was proud of what he’d done. He muttered something under his breath, and it sounded satisfied, like he’d just made his first kill or something.

“What the fuck,” she said to herself, lowered her gaze to the pieces of her cell, and then looked back to Stian. “You broke my expensive as hell phone.”

He huffed out, and gestured for her to come forward for her to eat. For the next twenty minutes she ate, watching him and keeping herself on alert. This man was dangerous, yet he hadn’t harmed her. He clearly wanted her, yet he hadn’t slept with her, hadn’t forced himself on her. This was a strange, screwed up situation, but she would be strong. She had to stay strong.