Ravish Her Completely(12)

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.