Bound by the Viking, Part 3: Consumed by Delilah Fawkes

Bound by the Viking, Part 3: Consumed by Delilah Fawkes

Author:Delilah Fawkes
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: adult erotica
Publisher: Under the Covers Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2014-02-15T06:00:00+00:00


***

Aislin awoke, shivering and nude, from dreams of bogs and black, reaching branches. Brenna’s face beneath dark water, mouthed silently to her, her face as pale as death…

She shook her head, willing such visions away.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. Her arms were bound painfully behind her, as they were every evening, before she fell asleep, and every morning, when she opened her eyes, but this time, the room looked different. She was farther from the fire, and furs had slipped off her body and onto the floor.

With a start, she realized she was in her master’s bed, instead of her place at the foot, curled up like a cur that found a warm place indoors to rest its head. A glance behind her showed Alrik gone, already, the furs disturbed where he’d lain, the end of her rope tied dangling behind her, as if he’d held it through the night, sleeping by her side.

She sat up with a groan, her back aching, body feeling stretched and sore from being used so roughly, the night before. A flush crept up her neck at the thought of what she’d done, what her master made her do, in front of the entire long hall. Shame crashed through her, tightening in her bowels until she doubled over onto the bedding, a sob caught in her throat.

She’d given herself over to him for just a moment… But, it was enough to send pangs through her very blood, until her heart ached so badly, she wanted to scream. Every moment she succumbed to him—every moment she let her guard down, even when he touched her the way that he did—he was winning. He had control, not just over her body, but her mind, as well.

The thought turned her stomach, and she sat up straight, breathing deeply, trying to regain some of her will. Her bottom ached, and she winced, as she remembered the punishment her master doled out, even after he’d spent himself inside of her—used her completely.

When he’d bent her over his knee in his chambers, firelight dancing on the walls, she’d cried out, her body arching, trying to get away from the blows she knew were coming.

“This is for thinking of pleasing anyone but me, thrall,” he’d whispered, his stubble rasping against her ear. “This is for thinking for one moment, that you exist for anything other than pleasing your master. Remember that.”

When his hand came cracking down on her bare bottom, tears stung her eyes, but she refused to scream.

He’s trying to get inside of me. Trying to bury himself in my heart. My deepest thoughts. My will…

She would not let him in, even though she let his manhood inside of her, so readily, not long before. Lust, after all, was not love. She still was herself, even though lust overcame her for the space of a moment. Love, though… obedience, even in her secret thoughts… that was danger.

That was violence of another kind.

His hand came down again, and she winced as his rough palm stung her pale flesh.



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