Siren Slave (41 page)

****

Freya’s words settled warmly over Siegfried’s heart. He moved her hair from her face, rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip. He kissed her nose to soften his next words. “I’m uncertain what to make of this. I suppose the easiest way to put this is, what made you care for me?”

“I know what you’re asking. My old serving maid, Kirsa, lusted after a handsome fisherman. She knew nothing about him, save that he caroused. He was also a charmer. All she’d talk about was the fisherman. He hadn’t really done anything to earn that kind of affection, except be born with good looks. There are probably a lot of things I don’t know about you, but you’re not like Kirsa’s fisherman.”

He lifted his left arm and settled onto his right side, propping his head up on his hand. “Oh?”

“Of course, you aren’t. I complained to Chiron about Kirsa a lot, and he always said to have patience with her. Some people figure it out and some don’t, but actions make the man. You can tell a man’s worth by what he does. I’ve never heard of anyone with more worthy actions than you.” She spoke easily, not even needing to think on her words. He got the sense she’d kept these thoughts bottled up for a long time. “I wanted to be like you, didn’t want to be afraid. I was afraid of the Romans almost all my life. I didn’t want to be someone’s puppet. Always had a problem with rules. I found a lot of those people making the rules weren’t worthy, so why did they deserve my respect by virtue of a title.” She frowned. “I never really respected my parents. It’s horrible, but I feel like, if they hadn’t welcomed Rome, the empire wouldn’t have had such influence in our lives. It upset me, seeing everyone suffer, little children taken as slaves. But everyone around me seemed content to deal with it and focus on other things.”

She smiled and rolled onto her left side to face him. She pointed, tapping her finger over his heart. “Then there was you, risking everything you had, someone I’d never met who felt the same way I did. Only you were so much more courageous. I admired you then. I felt like you were a friend I’d never met. I couldn’t ask you about yourself, so I asked for information. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn. Gradually, that admiration turned to…something more. Sorry, I’m rambling.” She lowered her head, cheeks heating.

“It’s all right.” Siegfried couldn’t delude himself she was suffering from some misguided affection, some false image of him. She knew some of his flaws, had tried to see him for the person he was, and didn’t want to change him, except make him smile. “About the numbers, Freya,” he said, “I’d prefer you not mention that to anyone.”

“I haven’t. It sounded a little personal. I know all about that, thanks to Ulf, all the numbers you do and don’t like. You like even numbers, but forty-two is bad because it adds up to six, which is the worst number, ever. Unless it’s trined and that’s really bad.”

“Freya, look at me.” When she lifted her face, there was a sheen of tears lining her eyes, brightening the green. His favorite color. “What’s wrong, little one?”

“Those admissions, I don’t want to scare you away. I know all the things you said about women wanting to tame you.” She took a deep breath. “What now?” Two very weighty words.

“I do not trust very many people. I trust you. You’ve more than earned it. Yes, Freya, I T-rust you. I hope that you still trust me.”

“Trust? You? Me?” Her jaw was hanging open. “Of course, I still trust you. You…you’re always there when I need you. I really should have tried to tell you the truth, and I was going to tell you everything before Hecate interrupted. Um, can I think you’re superhuman now? Because you really are.” A small finger stroked his antlers.

“You fantasized about me. What would you have done if you didn’t find my appearance pleasing?”

“I’d planned on getting old at that point in my life. It didn’t matter. I would’ve found you just fine, because I knew I’d like what was here.” She moved her hand from his antlers and placed it over his heart. “I imagined you burlier, not so lithe. I thought you’d have a lot of scars, maybe missing a hand or an eye by the time our paths crossed. That would’ve been fine, too.”

He rested his hand over hers, then lifted it to graze his lips across her knuckles. “Good. I like what we have, between us. The thought of me on top, you on bottom, or vice-versa, then falling asleep will not do. Not for that long, Freya. What we’ve done, even what you’ve written, does not begin to describe what you’ll undergo at my hands. A fantasy is very different from reality. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you said you weren’t dissatisfied with what we had.”

“It’s very…heady, being with you like that. It’s odd, dreaming of something, then having it materialize in front of you. But I didn’t want it to end.”

“I understand completely. I would still wed you if you’d have me, Freya, and if it’s possible.”

Freya’s eyes widened, then she blurted, “I don’t want you to commit to something like that if you don’t want it. I don’t want you to do it for me because you feel you owe me or—”

“Gods, Freya, without you…without you there wasn’t…” He struggled for the words, growling in frustration. He sat up and pulled her against him, tilting her head up so her face was a breath from his. “Whatever you thought I did for you, you did the same for me. When Julia wanted me to give up piracy, it was your letters that stopped me. It wasn’t just that Julia wanted me to quit. The numbers aren’t there. At least, not for me. But when it comes to Vercingetorix, the people aren’t putting their faith in the right man. The faith needs to be on principles or…” He took a deep breath, searching for the words. He owed Freya this explanation.

“But when Julia made those requests, I thought about this woman I didn’t know who was willing to risk herself because I gave her courage. I thought that there had to be more like you. Now I know that even if it’s only you, that’s enough. I had one of your letters in my tunic the day I told her no. I don’t want to go back to the way I was, never trusting anyone, always alone. You may be the only person I completely trust, but I’ll consider it a victory if I leave the fight against Rome and this world with a certain mermaid of my very own.” His hand caressed her neck.

Her eyes welled with tears. “Oh, Siegfried.” Her voice was soft, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck. He clasped her against him tighter, unable to let go.

“You do have a mermaid of your very own, one who’ll fight with you. A slightly crazy one, but—”

“Good, that’s just the kind I want.” They had further things to discuss, but damned if he didn’t want to finally bed his mermaid well and good. He pushed aside his desires. “But there are some things I need to tell you before I am distracted.”

He told her, the entire dinner in Asgard in detail, even explaining about Airgetlam’s hand. He knew she had wanted to be there, so he left nothing out. Freya didn’t say anything for long moments after he relayed the events. She bit her bottom lip, brow knitted, then met his gaze. “It doesn’t matter what Woden says. He can’t take me away from you.”

“You’re content with this? This is Bow and Swan, this ending with you chained to my bed, possibly for an eternity.”

****

That sounded like the perfect eternity to Freya. She smiled and touched his antlers again. They were covered in a soft fuzz. She didn’t know where this was going, what it meant, but she wanted more of him right now. She wanted him inside her, for him to have what she’d been saving. It was hers alone to give.

His hand weighing her breasts stopped any thoughts. On a whim, Freya sat up, dissipated her garments and spread her knees.

“That’s right.” Siegfried growled against her neck. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

Impatiently, she placed his hand at the juncture of her thighs so he would know that she did want him, very badly. “I want your hands on me. I want you to control me completely and don’t hold back. I want you, all of you, even those parts you’re reluctant to share. And I’ll give you the same.”

“Aye, then, Freya. Stay where you are. Fold your arms behind your back. Keep your back straight.” He gave her thighs a light slap. “Wider.” When she’d complied, he kissed her lids. “Very good.”

He left her, and her nipples hardened from the suddenly cooler air. His breeches clung tightly to his ass as he bent over the window seat. He lifted the cushion and began to rummage. What was in there? She strained forward to see and nearly toppled.

“Freya,” he said sharply.

“Sorry, Master.”

He wore a wicked grin, one that promised all kinds of delicious torments, as he returned. She tried hard to remain still as he reached around her to take her arms from behind her back. His chest was so close to her face. His smell was different now, not only the sea aroma, but a woodsy scent. The loose tunic tickled her cheek.

He placed irons on her wrists and raised her arms were above her head. He stood on the bed, holding the chains. They attached to an eye-hook in the ceiling, stretching Freya so her bottom hovered a few inches above her heels.

Then he was back to the hidden cache under the window seat again. This time, he returned with a long metal bar with leather cuffs attached.

“Keep forgetting to spread your thighs, and you’ll wear this for a good while, Freya.” This, of course, was attached to her legs. It forced her legs wide apart. He tested the cuffs, ensuring they weren’t too loose or too tight. She relied on her thighs and knees for balance in this awkward position.

Yet again, he made a trip to the window seat. He gathered several items under his arms, but one took all her attention. “I remember that you like items similar to this.”

It was a wooden block, covered in leather, two leather-covered phalli attached. Freya’s cheeks heated, recalling the double-edged phallus she had hidden in her cloak, what seemed so long ago. The block with the phalli was placed underneath her so that it nudged her damp sex.

“You have an idea what I’m going to have you do.” He placed the next item on the bed, a gold jar laden with rubies. He lifted the lid, revealing a clear salve. A floral scent wafted from the pale, thick balm. “I was thinking of you while in Asgard. Push your hips forward. Give me that pussy, Freya.”

Nervousness, tension, anticipation tightened within her. He gave her ass a whack with a riding crop, driving her hips forward. She held them there. A smile curved his lips, and he dipped his fingers into the salve. He daubed it generously onto her slick folds, then inside of her, causing her to writhe in her bindings. She swallowed and took several deep breaths.

A yelp escaped her when his hand moved behind her. She should have known he was not done. There were
two
phalli after all. The salve was cold against her ass.The muscles contracted around the invading fingers, but she’d not deny him. It was not as if the salve afforded her the luxury of resistance either.

She cried out, feeling hotter than she had before, her need increasing exponentially. She thrust her breasts forward when he palmed one, removing the gold ring and replacing it with a small, silver hoop with purple pearls. She’d toss the old ones away when they were done here.

He loosened the chain attached to her wrist irons. He gave her a sly grin as he patiently eased the phalli inside her. He began with the one at her pussy. Once it penetrated, he eased the other slowly into her rectum.

Freya’s eyes rolled back in her head. She hissed on the painful pleasure. She felt so full, stretched wider than when he’d probed her with his fingers. He grasped her hips in his firm hands and settled her on the objects of her torment, then locked the chain above her once again.

“I want you to make yourself come, Freya,” he said, stepping away from her. He couldn’t mean to watch her like this, could he? She wanted his touch, wanted him to be beside her, not be some show for his amusement. But the very thought sent heat coursing through her. She moaned, resting her head against her upper arm.

“Please, Master,” she said.

He turned his back on her, staring out across the sea. So filled with need, she began to work herself on the phallus, her body clumsy. She had to rely solely on her hips to do the work.

His back was still turned as he poured himself a goblet of wine, but then he sat on the window seat to watch her with those stormy eyes.

“Faster, Freya,” Siegfried commanded calmly. Despite his cool voice, his gaze was intent over the rim of his goblet. When had he lost his antlers? He was fully human now. She moved faster, aware of how she must look.

He let this continue for some time before he rose, walking around the sides of the bed to survey her. His hands were clasped behind him and he frowned. The problem was that she was having difficulty.

Freya panted, sweat dripping from her brow from her frenzied exertions. “Please, Master.”

“Please what?” He raised a brow.

“Touch me. I…I can’t seem to…” Articulate?

He pressed his knuckles against her clit, letting her rub against them. With his free hand, he swatted her ass with the riding crop. Spirals of hot pain stung her already tender bottom. She yelped, the phallus in her rectum vibrating from the lick of the riding crop.

“This is no punishment,” he said. “This is entirely for my pleasure.” He bent to kiss her breasts, teasing the rings with his tongue. She cried out. Yes, yes. She was awash in sensation. Her heavy breasts, her weeping sex, and her buttocks, all those sensitive places. “I am going to spank you until you come. You’re taking a long time. Move those hips, faster.”

She churned them as the licks of the crop came faster and the phalli penetrated deeper. She was so close…so close but could not get beyond the brink. Her buttocks grew more enflamed, pleasure and pain all a whir. A cry of frustration escaped her.

He stopped, running the edge of the crop along her pussy, chuckling as she thrust her hips out to touch it, to increase the sensation in the hopes of achieving that coveted release.

He looked smug. “Now you see how I can punish you. That salve entices you almost to the brink but will not let you go any further. I could ask you to do things like this and not come, make you hold off, because your need pleases me. Me forbidding you to come is different than you holding yourself back.”