Naughty Temptations

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

She stared into his eyes, now the color of cold steel. She drew a harsh breath. “Aye.”

“This can stop now, if you wish,” he said.

Her heart clenched and a lump formed in her throat that made it difficult to speak. “Nay, I don’t wish to stop.”

She was sure the look on his face was relief, but he said, “Then you need to be persuaded to do as I tell you?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted.

“Are you sure? You know what I’ll do.”

He asked more than one question with those words, and Fianna thought about all of them before she answered. “Aye.”

He nodded. “Stand still,” he said, stepping back away from her. “Do not move.”

She didn’t move, but she watched him pick up the leather belt he’d removed earlier. She watched him double it over and hold one end. Then he was behind her and she couldn’t see it anymore.

She heard the swish of air as it swung and the crack when the leather smacked against the flesh of her bottom, printing a streak of pain across it. The shock of it as much as the sting made her cry out. He hadn’t really struck very hard, she realized, but the leather was heavy and it did burn.

She was more prepared for the next smack and was able to swallow her outcry. He spanked her five or six more times, until her bottom stung fiercely and she could no longer stifle a moan.

But, like the sensation when he’d bitten her n*****s, the sting washed through her system and transmuted into something just the opposite of pain. The burn went straight to her womb and settled hot and heavy between her legs. It was a deliciously agonizing feeling.

“Are you ready to obey me?” he asked.

“I…I think not,” she said. She looked at his face. His expression was neither angry nor unhappy, but watchful, intent, and even a bit joyful. She had a sudden realization. This was a kind of a game. Serious in its way, but not serious in the manner of things that really mattered—life and death, illness and injury. She could stop it whenever she wished. He wouldn’t hurt her any more than she wanted to be hurt. But he hoped she could meet his enjoyment of this different way of giving and taking love and was pleased by her responses so far. She’d joined him in a strange and different sort of mating. She admitted to herself that so far she was enjoying it just as much as he was. “Nay, not yet,” she reaffirmed.

The leather spanked down a bit harder. The pain was bright, fierce, almost overwhelming, and she moaned softly. As it faded, though, it became a deeper burn that fed the pressure of need within her. Five more whacks each stoked the fire within and without, until she was awash in sensation. The next one struck low down, at the crease between bottom and thighs, and it stung far worse than any of the others. She squealed and reached back to massage the blazing flesh.

“No more,” she said. “Please, no more. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Well enough, then.” He put the belt back with the sword sheath before he came back and stood in front of her. “On your knees, now, and kiss my cock.”

She dropped to her knees, leaned forward, bracing herself by holding onto his hips, and pressed her lips to the hard shaft about midway along its length. He tasted a little salty and very male. After moving her mouth over him, she hesitated, unsure what to do next.

“Put your tongue on it,” he directed. When she’d done so, he added, “Lick up and down, from the base to the tip and back.”

It felt strange and exhilarating to touch him so intimately, to hear his breath come faster and harder, to feel him getting tenser and harder. His c**k was a thing of wonder to her. The skin was soft and smooth, though it felt very thin, over the hard length of it. He groaned as she pulled back the foreskin and her tongue reached the small opening in the tip and explored.

She worked back down. When she reached the base, she started up again. He caught a sharp breath in his throat and put a hand on her head to stop her.

“No more for now,” he said. “Your tongue is so skillful, you’ll have me exploding beforetimes.”

Fianna was absurdly pleased by the compliment. Henrik drew her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her to pull her close against him and kissed her on the mouth. He prized open her lips and explored the inside with his tongue. She met him and tangled her own tongue with his, stroking until she was burning up with the heat pouring through her.

Mouths still meshed together, he urged her backward until they reached the feather-stuffed mat that was her bed. He released her and then eased her down until she lay on the bed looking up at him. He knelt on the floor beside her.

His hands played with her breasts, his fingers stroking, tweaking, rolling, pinching her n*****s until she moaned and the pressure of need built in her loins to throbbing intensity.

One of his hands slipped off her breast and glided downward, across her stomach and abdomen to her legs. He rubbed up and down her thighs. His fingers brushed around to the inside. She sobbed and slid her legs apart, not sure exactly what she wanted from him, but confident that he would know.

A smile played across his stern face at that sign of trust. His hands stilled for a moment. He placed a series of tender kisses on her temple, cheek, and lips before he shifted again and gently nudged her legs farther apart.

Henrik’s first touch on the sensitive nether lips of her slit made her jump and squeal. The tingles running from his touch washed her in a pleasure beyond any imagining. He continued to stroke gently back and forth, up and down, and she felt herself swelling, opening, almost weeping for his touch. He pushed a little deeper, a little harder. His fingers rubbed across a spot at the center of her quim and her back arched with the intensity of the feeling it brought. From then on, he concentrated his attention on that spot. His stroking built the pressure in her to burning, white-hot heat. It grew and grew until she knew she couldn’t contain it much longer.

Then he gave the spot a harder tweak, a firmer brush, and all at once that contained need burst in a shattering explosion of pleasure. Spasms that jerked her body up and down jolted through her. Every nerve was suffused with delight while her body bounced in a rhythm of release that took her to far reaches of experience. Like waves washing onto shore, the spasms rolled and rippled through her body, built, and broke, time and again. He continued to stroke her lightly, provoking more outbursts, while she jumped and thrashed. There could be nothing more exalting under heaven.

It was amazing. It was rapturous, delightful, astonishing, and yet, it was incomplete. Something more was needed to finish it properly. This time she had a sense of exactly what was wanted.

“Come into me,” Fianna begged him as the spasms began to abate. “I need you inside to finish it off.”

“Not so quickly. It needs a bit more attention from you to ready it for that work,” he demanded, looking down at his c**k in a way that left no doubt what he meant.

It looked perfectly ready, jutting out, long and thick, from his body. But he moved closer and she wrapped her hand around it, marveling at the contrast between the hardness of the rod and the softness of the skin over it. She let her fingers travel up and down, caressing it until he was moaning and gasping. With her other hand she cupped the balls beneath, kneading them gently. They filled her palm.

She found a sensitive ridge just below the tip by noting the way his eyes tightened and fists clenched when she ran her finger along it. Henrik could tolerate only a few minutes of her stroking before he straightened and moved over her. He positioned himself between her legs and looked to be sure she was ready for him.

At her nod, he pushed forward, past the entrance. As she’d had so few other encounters, her passage was still tight, unused to this exercise. He was also larger than either of the other two men she’d lain with. It stung for a minute or so, but he allowed her time to adjust.

Henrik began to pump in and out, sliding in deeper, waiting a moment, then pulling out, only to push in even farther. The pressure inside roused again, causing her to tighten around him. She wound her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingers into his back. He began to move faster, kissing her as he plunged into her.

He felt so good, his skin smooth where her fingers stroked, his hair like finest silk, his body hard yet yielding. His kisses set her every nerve aflame. His chest hair tickled her n*****s when he bent to match his mouth to hers.

The need mounted as he filled her so completely, so thrillingly. Fianna jumped and her inner muscles tightened a little more each time he pushed in. His breath came harder and louder. The rhythm grew faster, frantic, desperate. Finally she felt it go again, felt the world spin away from her as her body released the built-up tension in spasms of ecstasy. Dimly she heard him make an inchoate roaring sound and his tense body shuddered with the force of his coming.

It was delightful beyond anything she might have imagined. Spasms of pure pleasure rolled through her body, convulsing her. She rolled with them, drifting on the sea of joy, drowning in the thrill of it, until it finally began to fade, letting her slide gently back into herself.

For a few minutes the only sounds were their moans and sighs. They lay together, arms wrapped around each other, drifting on the aftermath of the most intense pleasure Fianna had ever felt.

She wanted to remain just like that forever, joined with him in that most elemental way. But eventually Henrik rolled off her, stretching out close beside her on the narrow mat. He put one arm under her neck and shifted until his side lay touching hers from chest to feet. She turned so she angled toward him and could see his face.

“That was amazing,” she told him reaching out with a finger to brush his lips. “I had no idea it could be that way.”

His smile was beautiful. “It has never been like that for me before, either,” he said. “I’ve had good times. But not like this. No one has understood so well or wanted it the way you did. No one. Ever.” He ran a hand through her dark, wavy hair and wound a strand around his finger. “Fianna…Why do they call you ‘witch’?”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him. She knew not what the Norse believed, and thus how he might react to it. But she had never dissembled well and didn’t want to do it with this man. If he was appalled or discouraged, it were better she knew it now, before anything more developed between them.

“I am one, in a way,” she admitted. “My mother was half-fae and I inherited some of her blood, though I am much more human. I work with Marla, who is a healer as well as a midwife, and I know as much as she does now about the body and about herbs and potions. But sometimes… I know other things. Things not discovered in any ordinary way. On occasion I realize—through the use of some other sense—what is ailing a body and how it might be fixed. Not always. Not even most of the time, but often enough. The people here have seen it, but understand it not, so they label me ‘witch’.”

He didn’t recoil or let go the lock of hair he toyed with. “You use this gift you have for the benefit of those here in town.”

“Aye. But anything beyond their understanding frightens people. And where there is power, it can be used to harm as well as heal.”

His fingers stilled for a moment and his eyes narrowed. “Of course. But those young men chase you and dare your wrath.”

“Aye, but they’re young. And they know I want to continue to live in peace here, so I wouldn’t dare harm them.”

“What will you do about them? They’ll not give up their pursuit of you. That you chose me for tonight might be yet more incentive for them.”

She sighed. “I suppose eventually I’ll have to choose one of them to wed. But I’ll not concern myself with that tonight. Tonight is for us.”

The wonderful smile lit his face again. “Then let us not waste it.”

He kissed her, and stroked her, petted, licked, and sucked her into another explosive climax before he entered and spilled his seed into her yet again.

*****

Lying together afterward, she dared to ask him, “Are your people settling here permanently or just staying for a while?”

“Our town grows and becomes more solid by the day. My father will stay here with these people. The land is fertile and supports rich herds. We’ve no quarrel with our neighbors and seek peace among us.”

“Your father will stay…but you will not?”

He hesitated for a moment. “My brother has been off…adventuring. He’s due to return any day. When he comes back, he can remain with my father while I go off to seek my fortune. I’ve been waiting my chance for a long while.”

She dared not let him know how that news crushed her heart. She had no right to feel it so. One night was all she’d asked, and he was giving her much more than she could have expected. They were all but strangers and so it would remain. Why, then, did the news he’d be gone soon leave her feeling so bereft? She’d likely not see him again after this night ended, but she would have a memory she’d treasure always.

Perhaps he had some of the same feelings. Their third and last coupling of the evening had an almost frantic energy about it, as though he needed all the touching and loving they could manage between them to store for future consideration. When it was over, he held her again, and this time they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The first light of dawn woke them. They didn’t speak as they dressed, but before he left, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Then he drew back and stared at her as though memorizing her face. She would never forget his.

“I’ll carry the memory of this night with me as I sail the seas and walk across new lands,” he promised her. “I’ll warm myself with it on cold nights and fill long hours alone with dreams of you.”

“I won’t forget either,” she agreed. “And if you have time before you go, come to me again.”

He didn’t answer that. He was too honorable a man to make promises he couldn’t keep.