He smiled. "I know you will," he agreed. "You will play the harlot for me because I ask it, and because you want it too. You want this..." He traced the outline of her entrance with the tip of his tongue. "And you want this... " He parted her lips with his fingers and plunged his tongue right inside her – in, then out, then in once more and swirled it around.
Mairead writhed on the mattress, failing completely to remain still. Her inner muscles clenched, something hot and greedy snaked from deep in her core to bring her hips thrusting up. She lifted her body, pressing harder against his mouth, his lips, his wicked, sensual tongue.
"Gunnar, please, I need to... oh… oh."
Her cries fell on deaf ears, or rather on ears which chose to ignore her strangled, incoherent mumblings. Gunnar continuedto drive his tongue inside her, at the same time as his thumb found that needy little nubbin again and he rubbed.
She was close, her climax would soon be upon her and there was nothing she could do. What he was doing to her was wrong. It was decadent, dirty and quite delightful and she could not get enough of it. Mairead's fingers were in his hair, twisting the soft, ebony locks around her digits as she sought to hang on to something, anything...
Her release drew a long, anguished moan from deep in her throat. Her body went rigid as waves of pleasure pulsed through her, then boneless as the delight ebbed and her muscles relaxed. He continued to lick and nuzzle and flick her nether lips with his tongue as her world tilted then reoriented itself. Only when she lay quite still did he raise his head to look at her again.
"That was perfect. You respond beautifully, my slave."
She had no answer for him. Whatcouldshe say? It was not as though she might claim responsibility for her body's enthusiastic reaction, she could not help it. He made her feel things she had never so much as imagined and want things she could never have.
Or could she?
"Gunnar, please make love to me."
"Did I not just do so?"
"Inside me. I want you inside me. Your cock."
"Ah, now that would be nice. Are you quite certain this is what you want, my slave?"
"Yes, yes,yes!"
"I may not be gentle..."
"Despite what you say, I believe you will be gentle because you always are. In any case, I am not made of eggshells." She drew a long breath and sought to soften her impatient tone. He did not take issue with her impertinence, so she continued. "Please, Gunnar, I need you to... I need more."
"Then you shall have it, my demanding little slave." He rolled from the mattress, and in scant moments had shed his clothing. Mairead watched with undisguised interest, taking in the sculpted planes and hollows of his chest, the sprinkling of dark hair which arrowed down to the thicker thatch at his groin. She admired his corded muscles, the way they rippled beneath his skin. This dark Viking was a powerful man, strong, capable of terrifying violence as she had witnessed back in her homeland, but also capable of showing tenderness and caring. He had been kind to her from the start, he had protected her when she needed him, and he had been gentle with her children. This incongruous mix was proving to be a potent charm, evoking a lust and need within her that she had never experienced before and found herself uncertain as to how to handle it. Was she permitted to demand, to request, to just reach out and take as he would?
Gunnar approached the bed and Mairead abandoned any remaining inhibitions. As soon as he was beside her she wrapped her slender fingers around his cock and leaned forward to inhale the musky, masculine aroma of it. The head was shiny and smooth, glistening with the clear beads of moisture which dribbled from the very tip. Without thinking she smoothed the pad of her thumb across the crown and spread the wetness about, then leaned in to taste him.
Gunnar groaned and she withdrew at once, an apology springing to her lips.
"No, do not be afraid. That was glorious and you may be sure that I will appreciate more such attentions in the future. But now, I want only to fuck you. I need to be inside you."
"Yes, master," she breathed.
He eased her down and onto her back. This time she spread her thighs wide without being instructed and gazed up at him, trusting him absolutely.
11
By Odin's balls, this Celt is lovely. She possessed more than a mere prettiness, though his captive was without doubt a beauty. Gunnar paused to take in the glorious mane of amber curls and the mossy green of her eyes, the features which had first arrested his attention. He had more recently come to properly appreciate the soft swell of her lush breasts, the curve of her hips, the delicate contours of her long legs, her finely boned ankles. The sweet sight of her dainty fingers around his solid length had near enough unhinged him. Had she not begged for his cock he might have fallen to his knees himself.
She smiled at him and his erection lurched, his balls tightening in pained response. He had to have her. Now.
She was wet, ready for him. He positioned the glistening head of his cock at the entrance to her slick, tight channel and waited for several moments. Mairead gave an impatient mewl and shifted beneath him as though she would wait no longer and sought to somehow lift herself from the mattress and impale herself on his cock.
Maybe on another occasion he would permit that, but for now, this first time, he would control her. This was his way, his preference, she must submit.
Gunnar drove his cock forward, filling his slave in one long, smooth stroke. She gasped, quivered around his cock, but did not cry out. He remained motionless even so, scanning her features for any sign of distress. There was none. She returned his gaze, her emerald eyes dark with passion and need, her lips slack with lust.
He kissed her again, for no better reason than he felt like it. She tightened her sweet cunt around him, perhaps deliberately, perhaps not but he did not care. She gripped him, her channel hot and narrow and wrapped around his cock like the close-fitting leggings he favoured. He could no longer discern where he ended and she began.
"Mairead..." he growled. "This will not take long..."
