Walpurgis Night (10 page)

After a few more he stopped, and asked, “Are you ready to obey me now?”

Fianna
didn’t have to think about it long. “Not yet.”

His only answer was to swing the switch down on her bottom a little harder. Caught by surprise, she yelped when the sting was a bit harsher. Not unbearable by any means, though. He paused and waited for her to object or ask to stop it.

When she didn’t, he swung again. He followed that one with a long series of smacks starting at the top of her bottom, moving down to cover the surface and then onto the backs of her thighs, delivering each stroke harder as he went. By the time he moved back up her thighs and was lashing her bottom again, it was beginning to burn in a way that bordered on unpleasant. But it was still feeding the growing fire in her.

Two more harsh strokes carved bright ribbons of pain across her rear. It was enough.

“Please,” she said, “No more. I’ll obey.”

He nodded and dropped the branch.
Fianna
reached back and rubbed the flesh to dissipate the burning. Amazingly, though, the sting was working its way down in her loins and changing into…need. Her quim felt hot, moist and heavy. She felt her heart beat in its pulsing pressure. She wanted to drag him down on top of her right then.

“Roll over now,” he ordered. “And part your legs for me.”

She did as he directed. Parting her legs meant letting them drop off the sides of the bench onto the floor. He shifted her toward the end of the bench then he knelt on the floor at that end. For a minute all he did was
stare
at the feminine secrets she revealed to him in that open position.

Then he leaned over, put his hands beneath her bottom to lift it a bit, and brought his mouth down on her slit. The touch of his hands on the hot flesh sent fresh curls of fire swirling through her. She couldn’t contain a small scream when his tongue brushed over her bud. It sent shockwaves of near unbearable pleasure careening through her system.

“Heavens oh, heavens,” she murmured. “’
Tis
taking me…”

She clutched the edges of the bench, her fingers almost digging into the wood as his tongue ran over her slit again and again. The pressure was building quickly, the fire growing hotter. Her head rolled from side to side and her body arched under his attention. She screamed again when his lips closed over the bud and drew it into his mouth. His greedy tongue probed at it. The sensations were wicked, wild, pleasure beyond reason, extravagant… He scraped his teeth over the bud then worked it faster with his tongue until she exploded with a release that had her bucking and jolting over and over.

It surged through her, carried her on clouds of pleasure to a sublime state of joy. Her body kept tensing and releasing, jerking repeatedly with the shocks. He continued to lick the bud and that provoked more spasms. She held the bench and floated on the pleasure for as long as she could. Finally, though, she could take no more and pushed away from his clever mouth.

She lay back on the bench, completely spent,
totally
relaxed, beyond any movement or even thought for the moment.
Henrik
came around and sat on the bench beside her, then lifted her until her head was against his chest. “Never have I met a woman who enjoyed exploring different sorts of pleasure as you do,” he murmured to her. “Nor have I met one who exploded with her release as do you.
Nor one as kind and willing to give her every effort to heal a sick man.”

“The first two are testament to your skill as a lover who provokes such passion in me,” she answered. “The third is merely the way I am and not true virtue.”

“Why so?”

“Virtue is something one must work at. Giving all to heal someone is simply in my nature and so requires no great effort.” She thought, though, of the decision she’d had to make between what she wanted and what her skill required of her. He would never know about that.

Henrik
sighed and held her close. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear. “I call it virtue, nonetheless,” he insisted.

She didn’t answer. There was too much joy in just cuddling against him, sated and happy, for the moment. But then she felt his rampant cock jutting against her and recalled he hadn’t had a second release as she had, which brought to mind the bargain they’d made earlier. “Earlier, you promised anything you did to me, so I could do to you as well,” she reminded him.

He looked surprised and disconcerted for an instant then nodded. “So I did.”

A spurt of enthusiasm over the idea brought her up off the bench to stand in front of him, and say, “Lie down on the bench, facedown.”

Chapter Ten

He frowned, but he did as she directed. For a minute
Fianna
could only survey his form from this new angle and delight in it. His back was strong with broad, solid shoulders narrowing to a slim waist and sleek, muscular hips. She reached down and rubbed her hand along his back, feeling the play of the sinews under fingers. As he’d done for her earlier, she began to massage and knead the muscles to ease him into greater comfort.

It seemed to work.
Henrik
sighed deeply and relaxed from his stiff position. He began to tense again, though when her hands moved down to stroke his buttocks. Though narrow compared to his chest, they were gracefully formed and just rounded enough to be intriguing. His legs were parted slightly, letting her see the backs of his balls. She ignored them for the moment, though, stroking down his legs. The muscles of his thighs were strong and solid, like the rest of him. He was truly an impressive man, this temporary lover of hers. Just touching him fired a possessive longing she’d never have guessed she’d ever feel about a man. She wanted to lay claim to him, to have him around always. Not just for sex, though. She liked being with him even when they weren’t making love. She liked falling asleep in his arms, talking about their dreams and desires, working together. She also liked touching him, she decided as she ran her hands back up his body and buried them in his soft, silky hair.

“Roll over,” she ordered him.

He complied without hesitation, turning his large frame over so that he looked up at her. His eyes held hints of laughter.

She bent over to kiss his face, much as he’d done with her earlier, licking his lips, temples, down along the line of beard to his ears and then continuing the exploration with her tongue down his strong throat to his chest. There was a slight taste of salt on his damp skin that nonetheless tasted sweet to her. Her tongue tangled in the whirls of hair on his chest and scraped lightly across one masculine nipple. He drew in a sharp breath as she circled the hard bud, stopped there and closed her lips over it. She sucked and nipped at it before moving over to the other one. His heartbeat picked up speed and his breathing became faster under her loving attention. She loved watching his body jerk and knowing she could bring this big, strong man to such extremes.

She licked lower, running her tongue down his stomach, stopping to explore his bellybutton then following the narrowing arrow of hair onto his abdomen. She skirted the length of his cock, though, and continued down one strong thigh and a long stretch of leg to his foot. He reared up with surprise when she kissed the end of each toe. She waited for him to say something, but he just smiled and lay back down.

She ran her tongue back up the inside of his leg to his knee where she transferred her attention to the other leg and went down to the toes of the other foot. He made a strangled sound halfway between a gasp and a sob. The journey continued up the outside of his leg.

When she got to his hip, she settled her face between his thighs, halfway down to his knees, stuck her tongue between them and ran it up the insides of both thighs, stopping just short of his balls. His breath was coming in loud, gasping pants and his body jerked and tightened.

“Now spread your legs apart,” she ordered him.

Playing along with the game, he dutifully refused.

Her pulse and breathing sped up. “You disobey me?” she asked. “You know the consequences.”

He didn’t answer. The lazy, wicked grin he threw her nearly ripped her heart out of her chest. It occurred to her that even if he left and never returned
,
she might never be able to have sex with a man again. Certainly it would never be like this with anyone else, and she feared he spoiled her for anything less.

She turned away to find the branches he’d left lying on the floor. She didn’t want him to see the sudden spurt of tears in her eyes and wiped them away surreptitiously as she picked out the sturdiest switch on the pile.

“Roll over,” she ordered him. Her voice sounded steady and forceful. She hoped no revealing shine lingered in her eyes.

He said nothing but did as she commanded.

Fianna
admired the smooth skin and lean muscle of his buttocks. It seemed a shame to mark up such beauties with the switch. But curiosity and a sense of mischief won out. She raised the branch and brought it down but didn’t try to put much force behind it. There was a small thwacking sound when it met flesh. He made no sound and didn’t move. A very faint pink line showed on the skin.

The next time she struck just a little harder. Again he offered no reaction but another light pink mark showed, the color spreading out a bit. She slapped the branch down several more times in succession. He never made a sound, and after a bit she realized he wouldn’t. He was a Norse warrior. She could whip him half to death and he wouldn’t make a sound. Not that she wanted to do that. She didn’t even care if she drew any reaction from him. She didn’t want to hurt him, just to give him the same sort of different pleasure from it he’d brought to her. This was fun, unlike any experience she’d had before, this playing of the different sorts of games he seemed to enjoy as much as she did.

Four more swats, delivered a bit more sharply, drew low welts. She hoped she wasn’t hurting him too much. Surely he would stop her if she was, but would it offend his warrior’s pride to have to ask it?

She hesitated and lowered the switch. “Are you prepared to obey me now?” she asked.

He turned a burning gaze on her. “You haven’t worked hard enough for it yet.”

She sucked in a sharp breath and hoped she was up to the challenge he presented to her.

“So
be
it, then,” she said, and raised the branch.

She brought it down hard enough to elicit a disconcerting crack when it struck flesh. He didn’t even grimace. She smacked again, harder. The next few strokes drew raised welts on his buttocks and thighs. Between the steamy atmosphere and the effort, sweat began to form on her temples. Five more hard lashes, and he said, “I believe ’tis time for me to do as you ask.”

She dropped the branch. “Do so, then.”

He rolled over, barely suppressing a wince when his sore bottom touched the hard wood and let his legs hang off either side of the bench. She sat on the end of the bench, straddling it, facing him, and reached down to touch him. His cock was full and thick.

Fianna
leaned over and ran her tongue from the very base of it all the way to the tip in one long, slow swipe. His stoicism disappeared as his face tightened up, eyes squeezed shut, and tendons stood out on his neck. He groaned and muttered something in Norse.

“What is that?” she asked.

He drew in a breath. “You slay me so sweetly, my love.”

“You’re far from vanquished as yet, my hero.”

She made another pass from base to tip, stopping to swirl her tongue around the thickness at several spots. He gasped and jumped. She licked over his balls until he moaned and wound his fingers in her hair. Then she moved up the length of his shaft and ran her tongue around the tip, probing into the small opening.

When she took the entire tip into her mouth and sucked on it gently he groaned in a way that sounded almost like a sob. The muscles of his thighs clenched hard beneath the hands she had resting on them.

“I cannot—” he groaned.
“Cannot hold it much longer.”
He raised his head. “Your mouth or your quim?” he asked.

“Stay.” She pushed down on his chest then moved herself along the bench and lifted herself up enough to hover above him. Using her hand to guide it, she lowered herself onto his cock, impaling herself on him. She slid down until he was planted deep inside her. She was so hot and moist and ready for him, it slipped in easily.

They rocked together as he pushed up and she slid down on him. She liked this view. She liked being able to control the tempo of their movements and watching his face as the rhythm brought him pleasure and increasing tension.

Henrik
reached up and tweaked the tips of her breasts. When she let herself down on him, it hit the spot deep inside that made her jump. The hot fire blazed within, needing him to quench it. She groaned as she bounced up and down faster and faster.

“Oh Lord,” she murmured.
“
Henrik
.
Love—” She screamed as he pinched a nipple hard at the same time his cock surged against her. It sent her over the edge in the spasms of release. She sobbed aloud as the heat exploded within her, sending repeated jolts through her body. He pushed into her two more times before the spasms of her release sucked him into spilling his seed.

The wonderful starbursts of pleasure kept firing off within her, launching her higher and higher into the oblivion of total ecstasy. For long minutes afterward she did naught but sit there, clutching him within her body, disinclined to move or let him go. The pleasure softened and faded but left her peacefully spent.

She pulled herself off him and half collapsed to her knees by the side of the bench, her head pillowed on his stomach. He stroked her damp hair. They stayed that way for some time, content to be peaceful together, touching each other.

Eventually, though, he roused. She lifted her head and sighed. He stood up, went and picked something else up from a corner of the room. When he came back, she saw he held a cake of soap.