Owned by the Vikings (4 page)

Edric moaned, long and low, feeling his
hole flutter around Thorvald’s width.

He needed to be fucked. He needed
Thorvald to start moving, to drag his huge cock over that white-hot place
inside him, that place that felt so sensitive now.

Thorvald was balls-deep into him, and
now, at last, he was slowly withdrawing.

Agonizingly slowly. The friction was
almost unbearable, so deliciously agonizing that Edric shook his head wildly,
protesting in moans.
No, no, yes, more-

Thorvald’s big hands slid down from his
hips to clench on his buttocks, grasping tightly, drawing him open even further
until it felt like his entire insides were being exposed to the air.

Edric sucked more air into his lungs,
desperate not to pass out.

Rising slowly behind him, Thorvald
paused, taking a deep breath of his own, then slammed back in, hard.

Edric keened, a long wailing cry that had
no words in it, only need.

Thorvald filled him up, stretching him
wide, and now the big Viking was finally moving, thrusting deeper, long
delicious thrusts that rubbed all along that white-hot place inside Edric. That
perfect cock was rasping him, sending lightning-flashes of pleasure shuddering
through his body.

All he could do was pant and moan and let
himself be taken, while deep bass Viking voices cheered Thorvald on in a
strange chorus.

The sensations rippling through him were
overwhelming, whiting out his mind until he was aware of nothing but Thorvald
inside him, Thorvald’s hands on his ass, Thorvald’s balls slapping against him
with every thrust.

Now Edric truly felt like a thrall, like
an animal made of wanton flesh, made for pleasure. It was just him and
Thorvald, rutting in him like a bull in heat.

Suddenly the circle of white-hot need
widened just a little, just a little wider, and he realized that Thorvald was
talking.

Talking to him.

“You’re mine,” Thorvald said in that low,
deep voice of his, growling his words close to Edric’s ear as he rutted inside
him. “I don’t care who fucks you, you’re mine. You’re going to leak my seed
from your loose hole and everyone will smell it on you and know you’re mine.
When we get home to our lands, I’ll put my iron collar around your throat and
mark you as mine, forever.”

Edric couldn’t breathe, he was going to
come from Thorvald’s words alone if he kept this up.

“Do you understand, slut?” Thorvald
breathed, viciously snapping his hips in rhythm with the words. “Do you
understand,
thrall
?”

“Yes,” Edric moaned in a half-whisper,
clenching down on Thorvald’s rutting cock, his entire body shuddering. “Yes,
I’m yours, yes, take me, fuck me, yes
there
-”

He knew the
there
wasn’t helpful,
but he had no words for what that place was inside him, and anyway it didn’t
matter, for Thorvald was hitting it with every stroke, pumping hot pleasure
into him, fucking him hard, and the bench scraped along the deck like it
weighed nothing, oh gods -

White-hot pleasure leapt along his
nerves, and he came with a high, drawn-out wail, his seed spattering the deck.

Moaning as the aftershocks rippled
through him, Edric felt his body succumb, felt a wash of pleasurable release
flow through him.

Thorvald was still moving in him, slick
and wet and hot, his cock a bar of iron filling Edric up from stem to stern,
and he never wanted it to end.

The urge to release was gone, but
Thorvald felt so good, stretching him wide like this, taking him mercilessly.

Edric moaned loudly, and the Vikings
pressed around him laughed.

“Listen to the slut moan,” one of them said.
“He’s had all of us and Thorvald is the only one to make him moan like that.”

“We broke him in nicely, though.”

“Oh, yes, we broke him in, but Thorvald’s
the one putting the bridle on him.”

Edric paid no attention, barely aware of
their presence as Thorvald began his final assault, his back bowing, all his
weight slamming into Edric, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Yes,” Edric whispered with what breath
he had left, urging him on. “I’m yours, fill me -”

His body was loose and pliant, ready for
Thorvald to use as he pleased. Ready to be filled with his seed.

Thorvald gave a single moan, wild and
broken, and thrust in with his whole weight bearing down onto Edric, shoving
his immense cock in as deep as possible.

Then he held himself there, his hands
bruising Edric’s thighs, his back bent like a bow as he spent himself.

Edric felt it, warm splashes of come
hitting him deep, marking him. He tried to clench his abused muscles around
Thorvald, to keep him in.

Thorvald breathed hard and fast above
him, sounding like a bellows, and for a little while there was nothing in the
world but the two of them, sharing Thorvald’s pleasure as one.

Then, despite Edric’s weak attempts to
keep him inside, Thorvald left him, drawing his spent cock out with a wet gush
of seed.

A hand stroked over his come-wet hair,
gentling him. It was the tenderest touch he had ever received from Thorvald,
and it made him want to purr like a cat.

A raucous cheer went up. Thorvald was
standing up now, being slapped on the shoulders by the other Vikings.

“Shall I untie him, Thorvald?” Ogleif
asked.

Edric held his breath. His earlier
thoughts came back to haunt him, possessing him with sudden urgency.
No,
leave me tied. Leave me like this, oh please, use me, fuck me forever...

There was a small pause.

“No, leave him,” Thorvald said then. “We
might need another break before we reach home.”

Edric sighed blissfully. He slumped in
his ropes, exhausted but content.

Isabel Dare writes Erotica and Erotic Romance stories. She has always loved sexy, steamy and perversely romantic tales, from
The Story of O
to
The Persian Boy
.

She lives in a ramshackle old house in the country with her husband, two dogs, and a huge collection of filthy literature.

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