Page 41 of Her Rogue Viking
“I do not understand.”
“You will.”
He turned to pick up a small bowl, which he brought to show Fiona. It contained a knob of butter. Bewildered, she looked from the bowl to his inscrutable features. “Ulfric…?”
He merely smiled and moved around to stand behind her. “Spread your legs, girl. As wide as you are able.”
Fiona did as he asked, a little relieved since this, at least, was familiar territory. She had no qualms, not any more, about spreading her legs for her Viking.
She closed her eyes, her body softening under his touch as he trailed the backs of his knuckles the length of her spine. He took his time, as though he wished to examine each vertebra in turn, finally reaching the lowest one where the seam of her bottom began. Here he rested, his fingers idly slipping into that furrow to stroke and explore.
Fiona sighed, the pain of her whipping receding as his skilled fingers ignited that flame of arousal that only he could kindle. She arched her back and tensed as his questing hand crept lower, closer. Her pussy wept now, her moisture gathering in readiness for him.
Ulfric swept his palm lower to stroke the length of her slit. He gathered her juices and smeared them backwards, back toward that more private place that even he had not yet breached. He circled her rear hole with his finger, slick now from her own wetness, and pressed softly. He had done as much on previous occasions, and although it had shocked her initially Fiona secretly relished the wicked intimacy of his touch. She wriggled within the confines of her bonds and longed for him to take her throbbing clit between his fingers and rub until she found her release. It would be quick; she was halfway there already.
But he showed no sign of wishing to accommodate her in this matter. Instead he continued to toy with her arse, increasing the pressure little by little until, surely, he would…
“No!” The exclamation burst from her lips as the very tip of his finger penetrated her, her reaction more one of shock than pain. “Ulfric, you must not…”
“Must not? But you are mine, your body is my property. I shall do with you as I wish, touch you as I wish,whereI wish. Do you dispute this still, little Celt?” His finger remained lodged within her arse as he spoke to her, his tone so soft that she might melt were it not for the unfamiliar and chaotic riot of sensations now coursing through her. Lust mingled with shame, desire with utter humiliation. She sought to move away from him but his free arm snaked about her waist to hold her still.
“I can go further, and I will. You will take my finger, all of it, then two fingers, then three. Then, you shall have my cock. I intend to fuck your arse, little Celt.”
“No, please…” She began to wriggle in his arms, though her struggles were worse than ineffective as each movement she made seemed to have the effect of ramming his finger deeper into her tight channel.
“Be still, Fiona, and let this happen since there is nothing you can do to prevent it. This is what it is to be a possession, to be owned. You have no choice so youwillsurrender.”
“But—”
“I have promised not to harm you. Do you trust me?”
Did she?Did she still trust him, after all that had happened, after all that he had done to her and even knowing what he intended?
“Yes.” She almost sobbed the word at him. “Yes, I trust you. Will it hurt very much?”
“I am not a brute and I will help you. First, my fingers, then when I am satisfied you are ready I shall lay you on the bed and take your arse. You will be quiet throughout as I have no wish to gag you again. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes, Viking,” she murmured, even as she marvelled at her own acquiescence. Something in his words had reached her, touched her inner core of submission and she found she could accept what was about to happen to her. She might even welcome it. She was his. It was, after all, that simple.
Ulfric withdrew his invading finger but only for the few moments it took to smear it and the digits on either side with butter. He stood before her, smiling at her as he did so, as the dawning realisation glittered in her eyes. “You see, already I am seeking to make this easier for you.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her, the brush of his lips light and swift, but she was reassured by it. He was not doing this in anger and she would be safe in his hands. He moved to stand behind her again.
“Legs wide, feet as far apart as you can and arch your back to lift up your bottom.”
Fiona did as she was told, and managed not to flinch when he parted her buttocks to better examine the tight ring of muscle he was about to breach. She even held still as he inserted hisfinger again, this time sliding it right in up to the first knuckle. He halted briefly, then pressed harder and the rest of his digit slipped into her body.
It felt… odd, but not unpleasant. The experience was humiliating, an intrusion, but she found she minded that less now than she had initially. With another man, a stranger or one who was less gentle, she would recoil in horror, but with Ulfric… anything seemed possible.
He withdrew his finger, then drove it forward again. Fiona gasped; the sensation was intense and unexpectedly erotic.
“Oh! Ulfric, that is… oh.”
He lifted the tangled hair from her neck and kissed her shoulder as he delivered several more thrusts. He moved slowly within her, and Fiona knew he was taking extreme care not to hurt or frighten her. Even as she wondered what the next stage would feel like, he slipped a second finger in alongside the first.
It was tight, her entrance burning as he worked it wider, looser though there was not a hint of harshness in his handling of her. Slowly, but firmly, he encouraged her to open for him, and then he inserted the third finger.
