Siren Slave (29 page)

She looked sad as she reached up to touch his cheek. But that smile returned when she handed him the bottle of wine. “You look thirsty, Master.”

He was. He took the bottle from Freya and took a long drink. He swallowed, frowning.

“Something the matter?” Freya asked, watching him closely.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

She raised a brow. “It’d take a lot more than one bottle to get you drunk. I’ve seen how easily you drink that stuff.”

The wine had a sweeter finish, too sweet for a dry wine. He brought the bottle to his nose and inhaled. Almost a fish smell tucked amidst the notes of oak and cedar. “It smells strange. Where did Balder get this?”

“Balder isn’t going to poison you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Freya said. “Think about it, Master. Morrigan or Hedwig could have killed you if they wanted you dead. Balder wouldn’t go against their wishes.”

He did not want to be reminded of how easily the fey could kill him if they wished. At least, they could have up until he had Freya. She rested her head on his knee, tracing a finger along his thigh. He was instantly hard.

She was right, though. The wine would not be poisoned. He took another long pull. It wasn’t bad, just not as good as it should be. When he finished this one, he’d open another bottle and hopefully it would be better.

Freya adjusted her position between his knees, her hair tickling his thighs. His erection was almost painful. From the mere touch of her hair?

He shook his head. The temptation was clearly becoming too much. He could reward himself just a little. He held the meat out to her on the dagger, watching her lean upward to take a small bite. The firelight outlined her small breasts, the curve of her spine and ass. He groaned. Oh, this was going to be a long, hard night if it was starting out like this.

“Are you in pain?” Freya asked after she’d swallowed the morsel.

“No.” Why was his voice so hoarse? He downed the last of the wine, hoping that it would dull some of the lust.

He forced himself to hold the meat out to her, closing his eyes as she ate, trying to think of anything but fuck her right here. He couldn’t fuck her at all.

But he could hear her little sighs as she struggled to remain on her knees with her legs spread. If he opened his eyes, he’d see that sweet pussy, probably wet, the little ring locking her away from all but him.

“Master, I’m finished. You can stop holding the dagger out to me.”

He opened her eyes. He was greeted with the view he’d just been thinking about. His cock spasmed; he’d been unprepared for his reaction to the reality. She was unabashedly drinking in the view of him, the lust he felt reflected in her gaze.

“Are you afraid of me?” Desperation flickered in her gaze. Her white thighs trembled.

“Of course not.” He leaned down to brush a kiss across her bottom lip.

When their faces hovered a breath apart, she said, “I’m Fomori, Master.”

“Are you afraid, Freya?”

“No,” she said quickly, as if the idea were foolish. “Incinerating foes with lightning and being able to tear them apart is both useful and fun. But you’ve been different. I thought it might be because of that.”

He let his lips pause just above hers and looked her in the eyes. “No, Freya. I admired the Fomori in the tales. You are worthy of that same admiration.”

And that was why he should ignore the hard-on straining at his loincloth. That is why he should not punish her. Why he should not touch her more than he already had. But it hurt. His balls were heavy, and it was becoming damned hard to think of anything but bending her over, spanking her pert buttocks, then fucking her.

“Master?” The concerned question brought the realization that his eyes were closed and he was groaning, in pain with his need. They’d hardly touched. This was not normal.

He had been fine until he’d had the wine. “Freya, I was wrong. The wine, it had to be poisoned.”

Freya clutched his face between her palms, frantic. “Are you feeling sick? What’s wrong? This was not supposed to happen.”

A sinking suspicion twisted in his gut.
“What
wasn’t supposed to happen?” Freya poisoned him? He shouldn’t have stopped waiting for her betrayal. No, she couldn’t have. She wouldn’t.

She drew her hand away, hurt shining in her eyes. “Don’t look at me that way. I’ll go get Hedwig. She can fix you. If she hasn’t run off. Stay alive, and I’ll return as soo—”

His hand fastened over her wrist. “What the hell did you need a Hedwig potion for?”

No, she wasn’t acting like she’d tried to poison him. The fear and concern she expressed were almost tangible. Even now, her cool little hand was pressed over his heart, as if she were afraid it would stop beating. It was only making the pain worse. “Answer me, Freya.”

Her brow furrowed in thought and worry. Her teeth bit her bottom lip. She glanced down at her lap one last time. “You were holding back from me. If you’re not afraid of me, then I don’t know why. So Hedwig gave me Long Hard Night and said it’d fix stup—everything.”

Siegfried repeated the potion’s name under his breath. “Long Hard Night? Is that what you want, Freya?”

She nodded, eyes wide. He was corrupting her.
Dammit!
Was she trying to keep him because she didn’t want to be replaced? Was she still worried over Julia? It was painful to formulate the thoughts. He wanted to plow her slick little pussy right now. But, no. He’d do other things with her that he enjoyed, ensure she never did this again, ensure she’d never want him again. He’d take her a little further down his road. Then she’d run, look at him with disgust and it would be easier after that.

****

Freya kept a careful watch on Siegfried as a feral, wicked grin spread slowly across his face. His hand still clasped hers. “Oh, little one, you are going to regret that.”

She would only regret it if he did nothing, if he kept that distance between them. Was he going to do that?

“You will never ever give me another of Hedwig’s potions without my consent, which I guarantee will be never.” When she did not respond, he snapped, “Am I clear, slave?”

This was definitely promising. “Yes, Master.” She shivered in anticipation.

He lightly slapped her breasts. She moaned, arching her back to push her breasts forward, earning an approving nod. He reached his hand lower, brushing the sensitive flesh of her stomach, to squeeze her pubic lips. She whimpered and started to close her legs, only to receive several reproving swats.

He brought his face closer, his stormy eyes so intense with need. Again, he pinched her pubic lips, harder this time. She whimpered again but kept her legs spread, pressing her sex against his fingers. But he only continued to study her face. How she wanted his lips against hers. Instead, he suddenly rose.

“Hands behind your back. On your feet.” His commands were delivered tersely, and she hurried to obey. She still found it difficult to rise from her knees to her feet with her arms clasped behind her.

Siegfried gave her behind an approving pat, then moved behind her. She could not see him, but she didn’t turn her head. Thick rope was wound around her forearms, binding them in place.

She heard him fiddling with something that wasn’t the rope. Something—his belt?—sliding against cloth. Leather sharply caught the underside of her ass. She yelped. Definitely his belt.

He held her in place. “Bend forward at the waist.” That was an order. She immediately obeyed. She did not topple forward because he held the end of her lead firm. A few stings on the thigh with the belt reminded her to spread her legs.

She waited, tense. The belt slid against her sex. She moaned, pressing herself against the leather, knees starting to weaken. Immediately, the sensation was gone. Instead, the wood was filled with the crack of the leather zinging against her buttocks. She whimpered, struggling in her bonds. She tried to stand to receive the punishment, but it was impossible.

Her thighs burned, but not as much as her bottom.

The belt ceased the frenzied licks, and he caught her about the waist, as if he knew she needed to be steadied. She melted into his arms, his chest solid under her cheek.

He turned her face up to him, and she strained onto her toes to press fervent kisses across his neck, his cheeks.

“So beautiful.” Siegfried groaned, his cock nudging her hip. Was he going to take her? Finally?

His fingers found her sex, slipped inside. He growled and grinned wickedly. Freya cried out, legs giving out. His other hand was firm around her hips, holding her tight against him. Then the bastard withdrew his fingers. When his brow creased in concentration, and she heard a clicking of metal, she knew he was unlocking the small rings. His hunting knife gleamed in the moonlight, and the bonds slipped from her wrists.

Freya squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers returned to massaging her clit. She savored the feel of his hands on her again, this affection from her master. She thrust her pelvis against him. But he removed his fingers yet again.

Her entire body froze. His fingers, slick with the evidence of her desire, were now on her rump. He didn’t explain this shocking action. His hand slipped between the cleft of her ass.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on breathing as a finger touched that small orifice. His free hand tangled in her hair, ensuring there would be no escape. Never before had she been touched there. The thought of Siegfried exploring that place was shocking. But she was his.

“No privacy for you, Freya.” At his words, she spread her legs wider to show she would offer him no resistance.

The hand twined in her hair led her lower and lower until the cool carpet of moss tickled the sensitive buds of her nipples. Her breathing slowed as she realized her position. She was bowed at his feet, a gesture of humble supplication, her tender bottom raised and spread above her hungry sex.

He knelt beside her and used her hair to turn her face up and toward him. “You will hide no reaction from me.”

The moment his slick, questing finger worked its way into that tight space, Freya tensed, tightening her muscles. He chuckled, and her face stung with humiliation. She felt stretched as he probed further into that most sensitive of areas.

His hand let go of her hair. She did not dare look away from him. His free hand gave the underside of her ass a slight swat. “Relax.”

She nodded and tried to slow her breathing. His free hand gently stroked the weeping folds of her pussy. When she tried to grind against his hand, he nudged upward with the finger invading her ass. She groaned, knowing there was nothing she could do, other than what he would allow.

His gaze was still on her face, probing as much as his finger. His expression was thoughtful yet tender. He leaned forward to brush a kiss across her brow, and her body relaxed further.

****

The moment Freya gave herself over completely was obvious—the way the tension left her body, the steadying of her breath, the surprise leaving her eyes.

Her eyes widened briefly as he carefully widened her anus with another finger. She slid her knees up further to accept the intrusion.

The test was almost over. He’d pushed his little slave to her limits, and she’d performed admirably. She would soon learn the purpose of the exercise he’d just given her.

He kept his fingers inside her, savoring her soft moans and whimpers as he continued to prod her, but he adjusted himself so he was before her. He did not want to wait longer. His cock was nigh to bursting. If Siegfried had not enjoyed the heady buildup of anticipation, he would not have been able to last as long as he had.

A few quick motions of his hand and the front of his breeches were undone. “Take me in your mouth, Freya.”

Her eyes widened at the request.

She bit her bottom lip in nervousness before closing her hot mouth over his length. No sooner were his lips sealed around him than he came hard and fast. He tightened his fingers inside of her, but she maintained the gentle suckling, swallowing his seed as it spilled into her mouth.

She did not remove her lips from him until he was spent and he withdrew his cock. She lowered her head to lap any cum that had escaped her mouth. The warm flash of her tongue across his balls drove him to another erection. The potion she had given him had been designed for just this. He felt no alarm. He had his slave to cater to his every whim.

Three more times did he orgasm in Freya’s mouth before he thought he could find some peace.

“Master?” Freya looked up at him, eyes filled with concern.

“I’m all right, little one. Only tired and…spent?” He was hard again. They both needed sleep before the journey continued. “On your feet.” She rose and arched her back. The shifting of her weight from foot to foot, the worrying of her bottom lip betrayed her lust and discomfort.

The red halves of her bottom shook with each step back to the tent. Damned if that didn’t make him harder. He’d come four times already. No, he could not come to completion again tonight. That would make for five—an odd number. One more would be six, which definitely would not do. Seven was iffy. He could not settle for anything less than eight. Eight would leave them both with no sleep before Enbarr arrived with the dawn.

As further punishment, he would see Freya suffered this night right along with him.

She heaved a sigh of relief, her pace slowing as they drew up before the tent of green and brown material. The welcome luminosity of the pillows shone through the walls.

Freya collapsed into a squirming heap atop the pillows as soon as Siegfried had the tent flap opened. He fastened the flap, then turned to look down at his bound little slave. Her splayed legs provided him with the assurance that her own desire still tormented her. He would stoke that fire a bit further before he was done with her tonight.

“On your knees,” he commanded.

She nodded wearily. Clumsy efforts brought her to sit as he had taught her.

He dipped a dark green cloth in the clay bowl of cool water they had been using for morning ablutions. She sucked in a breath when the cloth met her nipples. Her eyes closed, lips parted in a wordless plea as she arched against the cloth, eager for more of his touch. He let her have this. He took his time, gently cleaning the rings piercing the dusky buds.