His minion bowed and waited for permission to continue. Thorfinn did not grant it just yet, as he let the whore work on his cockstand for now, wanting it to be hard and large and near to exploding in her mouth when he heard good news about his enemies' journey. She added some noises that made it sound as though she was enjoying her work, but he knew it was only for show. Again, he struck her with the cane, this time on her bottom where the marks of his previous attention bloomed red and bloodied. Pain and pleasure were such a heady and intoxicating mix when delivered just right.
He knew it stung-he'd made sure of it when he aimed for just a certain spot on the torn skin of her arse-and he knew that she wanted to cry out. Now Thorfinn waited, almost hoping that she would.
Delivering pain excited him and her newness under his hand was more thrilling to him than using someone broken in to his varied tastes. He caught Sigurd's gaze at that moment as he, too, waited to see her response. When her mouth moved down and up on him again, Thorfinn was partly disappointed, but the pleasure of her tight mouth and throat made up for it.
Now, on to business.
"Well, Sigurd. You have news for me? If you finish quickly and it is good news, mayhap you could join me?"
He stroked the cane down the whore's back, sliding the piece of wood between the mounds of her arse, offering a reminder of something they'd done before when sharing a woman.
Sigurd's face went blank for a moment, a sign of his unwillingness to share in his lord's largesse. Well, this one would be used up soon enough without his help. Thorfinn petted her head as she continued, much as he would pet an animal. Sigurd gave his report.
"My lord, they will be delayed by four more days due to illness."
Thorfinn laughed then, enjoying the news and the pressure that built in his testicles. "Anyone die of it?"
"Nay, my lord. I did not think you wanted anyone killed." Sigurd paused now and gestured to the woman. "I would prefer to deliver this in private, my lord."
"Unless you want to suck my cock in her place, that is not your choice to make, Sigurd." Thorfinn leaned down and whispered loudly to the slut. "And if she wants her skillful little tongue to not be cut out at its root, she will use it only as I order and say nothing to no one."
The whore was a quick learner, for there was almost no hesitation in her efforts now as he delivered that warning. With his free hand, he motioned for Sigurd to go on. "What was the cause of this sickness?"
"Tainted meat, my lord."
Thorfinn laughed out loud now at his man's resourcefulness. "Your idea, Sigurd? I commend you on it."
"Not mine to take credit for, my lord, but I will pass on your praise to the one who did." When Sigurd would have spoken again, he held up his hand.
The whore's tricks were working and his sac and rod tightened as his release approached. He took in a slow breath, trying to draw it out, but he felt his seed begin to flow. Pulling her by the hair off his cock, he watched as the pearly liquid sprayed over her face and neck. A few moments and he emptied all that had built up within him.
Tossing her aside, he ordered, "Wash your mouth and your arse, I want it clean for the next time." When she backed away and reached for her garments that lay next to his chair, he used the cane on her outstretched hand. "I said nothing about covering yourself, bitch." Without raising her head or eyes to him, she crawled back and away, toward the corner where a basin sat waiting.
Thorfinn tugged his breeches and tunic back into place and stood, accepting the cup that Sigurd knew he would want. Drinking deeply from it, he waited for the rest of the news.
"So, four days more that my father will fret over," he said. "How wonderful! Anything else, Sigurd?" He emptied the wine in one more mouthful, anxious to return to more pleasurable pursuits.
"It may be more than that, my lord. There seems to be some kind of distraction growing that may stop them for a bit."
"A distraction, Sigurd? That sounds interesting. What kind of distraction?"
Sigurd glanced over at the corner of the chamber, where the slut washed herself in the shadows. "One of the feminine kind, my lord."
Thorfinn smiled. Women held such promise, for sexual pleasure, as weapons and pawns, even as whores and slaves. Gunnar's daughter had provided him several evenings of pleasure, though of the dullest sort, but would, if his plans succeeded, be an outlet for his more creative efforts soon.
"Make it so, Sigurd. Any delay is a good one." Thorfinn put the cup on the table as he walked with Sigurd to the chamber's door. His man was holding something back from him, waiting until the last to reveal it. He could tell by the nervous way Sigurd's eyes kept darting to the door. "Something else?"
"She is a nun."
Of all the things he expected to hear, that was not one of them. And it was truly a shock. "A nun? Gunnar said nothing about her taking vows."
Thorfinn thought back to his encounters with her those months ago and did not remember that particular detail ever being mentioned. Well, would someone sneaking out to seek pleasure from a stranger even reveal such a thing? Not that it would have stopped him from taking her maidenhead, for-nun or not-she had all the bodily openings and crevices any woman should have to see to his needs.
Any differences from one slut to the next were inconsequential as long as they did not interfere in his plans or his pleasure. Now though, the thought of her being a nun when he ruined her aroused him. Damn, he wished he'd known at the time!
"Gunnar does not know," Sigurd added.
Thorfinn chortled at this news. Could it get any better? His day brightened and his ire at being interrupted disappeared now in light of this. One more humiliation for Gunnar. Sigurd had earned a reward for this parcel of information.
"You are dismissed, with my praise for work well done. Unless you have changed your mind and wish to stay? I have not broken her yet in either place. You can have your choice and I'll watch," he offered, in such good spirits that he felt a generosity that was not usual for him. He gestured to the woman who walked toward them, head bowed, blood and seed cleaned from her naked body, and ready to begin anew.
"I have much to do, my lord," Sigurd offered as he pulled the door opened and left. The man was too dour for his own good.
Pushing the door closed, Thorfinn turned to find the whore kneeling at his feet. If she thought his change in mood, now much lighter for the news Sigurd brought, would mitigate his attentions toward her, she was wrong. Thorfinn left her and walked to the wooden cabinet that held his assortment of implements of discipline.
Lifting one of the whips, his favorite for the exquisite torment it gave when lashed with it, he let it unroll and drag at his side, the metal tips on each strand scraping along the floor as he walked back to her. She stared at it and then at him as he cracked it over her head and then on the floor where she knelt. The third time it bit her on the shoulder. Real fear entered her eyes then and she shook her head when she met his gaze.
Ah, he thought, his cock hardening once more, there was always much to be done and so many ways to enjoy it.
Chapter Fourteen
"Margriet? You must wake up."
She heard it, had heard it the several others times it tried to pierce the darkness that held her, but again, she could not answer.
"Margriet!" he called louder, making her head throb. Or did her head already throb and his voice made it worse.
Finally when she could fight it no more, she opened her eyes to find four faces staring down at her-Rurik, Thora, Harald and Donald. Donald? She looked around to find the missing person who should be there-Elspeth.
"Elspeth?" She pushed up on her elbows and searched for some sign of the girl.
The silence that greeted her told Margriet that something was wrong. Rurik ordered the others from the room and waited for Donald to escort Harald and his wife to the main floor. Then he turned back to her.
"Why did you ask for Elspeth?"
Margriet slid back, drawing the blankets to her neck as she moved and righting the kerchief now in place on her head. Thora, it seemed, always watched out for her modesty.
"She was very upset last evening, Rurik." She noticed the light streaming in and knew it was morning. "What hour is it?"
"Almost noon."
"Nay, it cannot be," she said, shaking her head. "You said we were to leave just after dawn." He sat on the edge of the bed now and she shifted to give him room.