CHAPTER SIXTEEN #2
He'd betrayed her, lied to her. Used her. Was still doing so. Well, she would use him too. Use his body to take her own pleasure, even if she had to submit to his wicked demands. After these last weeks, she knew well just how much he wanted her. In the most carnal sense anyway.
He stepped into the water, pulling her with him.
She sucked in a breath at the sudden cold of the stream, yet didn't resist when he pulled her shivering body deeper.
He stopped, turning to face her, holding out his other hand.
A small ball of scented soap made from conkers from the large chestnut tree rested in his palm.
"Wash me."
Her sharply inhaled breath seemed a shout to her ears. Why must he insist on treating her so callously? She jerked her hand from his.
"Wash your own self." She turned away, her body slowly growing accustomed to the chill of the water. He reached to stop her, but she evaded his grasp, moving further downstream.
"Thora!"
His sharp voice rang out and she paused, slowly turning to face him once more.
Even in the fading light, she easily read the heat in his eyes and despite her intentions to resist his cold-hearted demands, her body betrayed her.
Her sex swelled, heating and slickening, making her sweat despite the cold stream.
"Why must you treat me so badly?"
"What?"
"Yes, I owe you a great debt. But I am not a slave. Yet, you insist on treating me as though I were no more than a mere possession, to be used and discarded, or worse, sold on your whim."
"I would never discard you, Thora."
Sincerity hung heavy in his tone. She wanted to believe him, but forced herself to remember the lies he'd told her. The way he'd betrayed her. She was a means to vengeance, nothing more.
Why did that have to hurt so much?
Her determination to enjoy his attentions, take her own pleasure while shielding her heart, once more weakened. She closed her eyes briefly, then met his stare once more.
"Then show me more respect." She lifted her chin, daring him to mock and refuse her demand.
He smiled, the one that so often left her lips tingling in anticipation of his kiss.
She remained still when he moved toward her, finally standing mere inches away.
He made no move to touch her. She remained wary, yet still holding on to the foolish hope that he might make some attempt to assure she deserved his esteem.
He cupped her cheek, tilting her head. His gaze roamed her face, warming her wherever it landed. "I will return the favor."
What did he mean? Did he finally intend to treat her as an equal, or was this some ploy to get his way?
Once more, he held out the soap. With a scowl, she took it and dipped it into the water, the oils from the conkers making the ball slippery in her hands.
Small bubbles formed as she rubbed the soap between her fingers, another rush of annoyance rising when he turned his back to her.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, running the soap over them with one hand, using the other to spread the thin lather.
She held back a satisfied chuckle at the way his skin twitched beneath her fingers.
Again and again, each time her hand slid across his back and sides, a small tremor vibrated under her touch.
If only she didn't enjoy the feel of his wet skin beneath her fingers.
He turned, the heat in his eyes glowing under the last of the the daylight.
She continued her task, though her gaze remained held by his.
Across his chest her fingers roamed, leaving a thin trail of fragile bubbles in their wake.
His entire body tensed when she slid her fingers along his side, to his hips.
Knowing she caused the sudden sharp intake of breath fed her own desire, made her breasts feel heavier, her nipples tight and hard.
Somehow, she managed to maintain her focus on her task, hiding a sly smile.
Holding the ball of soap in one hand, she dipped the other beneath the water's surface.
Her seeking fingers soon found his shaft, hard and erect.
As always, a thrill passed through her to know she affected him near as much as he did her.
The pride mingled with her own anticipation of what would come banished her anger.
At that moment, she no longer cared, even if it stung that he didn't care for her beyond their shared physical affinity.
The heat in her body made it impossible to think of anything but the man before her.
She curled her fingers around his cock, savoring the wild quiver that passed over him.
How nice to be the one with the advantage this time.
The knowledge left her breathless and giddy.
Her slippery finger slid easily along his flesh, drawing a groan.
After a moment or two, he caught her wrist and wrenched her away.
He slid his arm around her waist, pinning her against him while he stripped the ball of soap from her hand.
"My turn."
The thick husk of his voice sent a jumble of delight coursing through her.
He had barely touched her and already her pussy ached for him to fill her.
She knew he wouldn't oblige her, he took his pleasure from tormenting her with pleasure.
If only he wasn't so skilled at knowing just how to touch her to make her beg for more, for him to take her to that glorious peak he'd introduced her to.
From the moment his fingers danced along her jaw, down her neck to her chest, she was panting, unable to steady her heart or ease the wild trembling in her limbs. The soap glided over her skin, guided by his heated fingers. A moment later, he dropped the soap into the water.
Before she had the thought to question his devilish smile, he cupped her breast, chasing the words before she uttered them.
The barest touch of his wet and slick fingers drew a moan before she even realized it had formed.
Her hands rose to his shoulders and she found herself unsure if she meant to push him away or hold on tight.
A soft slide across her tight nipple drove her fingers deep into his shoulders.
Hold on. She had to, for the world spun about her.
When he pinched the tip of her breast, the sweet burst of pain-pleasure left her quivering.
Her release loomed over her, close, yet still out of reach.
She recalled their first night, when he'd stirred that magnificent bliss solely by caressing her breasts.
Knowing he had such carnal power over her brought a moment's panic, one that was quickly chased by a tight pinch on her other breast. Fire seared her veins and she wanted more. She'd face the consequences later.
"Ari." His name erupted on a hoarse whisper.
"Yes. I know you feel it too, ástin minn."
The words to refute him wouldn't form. She clung to his wet flesh while he caressed and patted, stroked and pinched again. Her mind whirled with the dark and decadent pleasure coursing through her, her pussy wet and hot and demanding to be filled.
When he drew away, Thora shivered. The slow current threatened to sweep her away and she tightened her hold. His chuckle sounded like a roar to her dazed senses. He took her hands in his.
"Come." He led her toward the bank. She obeyed without thought. Each step only intensified the longing in her sex. The man had reduced her to a wanton in only a couple of weeks. When the day came to leave him, and it would, eventually, intuition warned she would never know such passion again.
Lost in the chaos of her thoughts, she jerked to full awareness when he let go. Still unable to think of a word to say, she stood silently when he reached for the drying cloth. After running it over his head and shoulders, he reached for her.
She attempted to take the cloth from him, but he pulled it out of her reach. "Stay still."
The rough brush of the cloth on her damp and sensitive skin stoked the flames once more and her breath hitched. He concentrated on his task, running the cloth slowly over her breasts. Lower and lower he moved, slipping it between her legs. He didn't move it then, merely held it against her sex.
"Stop teasing me!"
The words snapped out of her before she even realized they'd formed. His response was a broad grin and a wink.
"You like when I do this."
He pulled the cloth even tighter against her pussy. Another sharp intake of breath, but the mere contact was not enough. And he knew it as well, of that she had no doubt.
"How do you ask me for your pleasure, Thora?"
At any other time, his words might seem a taunt, and perhaps now they were as well. She didn't care. She'd give him what he wanted, so he would do the same for her. She hoped.
"Please, Ari, stop teasing. Take me. Make me come."
The flare of lust in his eyes bored into her. He dropped the cloth, scooping her up against his chest before lowering her to the furs he'd spread on the ground. He loomed over her, but the sight only stirred more excitement. Her breasts tingled, nipples tight and hard, as if reaching for his touch.
He caught her hands, stretching her arms above her head while he settled into the wide welcome of her legs.
Pinned and helpless, her excitement soared to even greater heights.
His cock brushed her sex and she undulated toward him.
He didn't enter her, instead reaching underneath to pinch her ass. Hard. She squealed.
"When I am ready."
His words, husked with desire, reminded her he maintained control.
She didn't care, only wanted him to hurry before the frustration racing through her stole her wits forever.
She gave a whine when he brushed gentle kisses along her cheek, across her nose to the other side, to her ear and down her neck.
By the time he reached her chest, she was gasping for air, her fingers clenched, her entire body aquiver.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, an effort to urge him into her, but he held back.
He took his time, his tongue and lips a fevered torment she wanted never to end.
He transferred her wrists to one hand, and now his fingers added to the sensations he bestowed.
When his mouth closed around one taut nipple, she let out a keening wail, half-plea, half-denial.
He murmured something against her skin; she couldn't make out the muffled words, but the vibration of his voice sent an arc of fire along her spine.
Her head thrashed against the furs and she bowed against him, an attempt to convey the ferocity of her need. Nothing she did urged him into her and she fell back in surrender, tears of frustration burning her eyes.
As if he sensed her submission, his hand moved between their bodies.
She sucked in a breath, held it, holding herself still and praying to Freyja above to take pity on her.
The goddess must have heard, for Ari's fingers moved along her sex, seeking and caressing.
She arched her head back, stifling a scream when Ari's teeth nipped at her neck, soothing the sting with his tongue while his fingers continued their passionate dance along her pussy.
He caught the hard bundle of nerves and gave a gentle pinch.
The first rumbling of bliss taunted her when he withdrew, then returned to repeat the motion, his mouth still hot along her throat.
Another squeeze, this one harsher, and Thora's vision went white, the stinging pleasure so intense, her toes curled and her body bucked wildly against his, even though he pinned her securely.
Her cries rang through her head, and for a moment, she thought she tumbled through the air, the pulses of delight seeming to last forever.
If only. His wicked touch kept her spinning, soaring from one peak to the next.
The suddenness of his cock filling her sent her into another screaming climax.
She welcomed his rough and hard pounding; when he released her wrists, she curled her body around his, squeezing him with her sex.
He groaned, delivering another harsh pinch to her ass, but she barely noticed, too caught up in the tumult.
She latched her mouth onto his neck, sucking and licking, savoring the heady salty taste of his skin.
Soon his shouts drowned hers, and the sound of her name torn from his mouth sent more ripples of ecstasy sizzling through her veins.
He slowed his pace, his heavy breaths mingling with her gasps and pants. She fell back to the furs, her fingers still curled in his hair. How did he manage to make each time more intense than the last? He rested his forehead against hers, his gaze locked on hers.
"You amaze me."
Had she truly heard the softly whispered words? She barely had a moment to think on it further when he slid free of her body. She truly disliked the empty feeling, but it was soon chased when he cupped her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
"Come, we must return to our camp."
His words dissipated the lust-filled haze fog still holding her in its tenacious grip.
On shaky legs, she rose and allowed him to help her dress.
When their belongings had been gathered, he slid his arm about her shoulders and drew her close.
Good thing, for she wasn't sure she had the strength to walk on her own.
But when the bliss slowly faded, the hurt of his betrayal rose again. While their shared passion was like nothing she'd ever known and might ever know again, the truth stung. He didn't care for her, she hadn't touched his heart, not really. Without that, she was doomed to a future of misery.