Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Her captive's attention was upon the feast she offered. She could read his anguished expression as easily as she could grind over his broad nose.
He craved her.
Longed to devour her in the way she demanded.
But he loathed the fact she could command it of him.
Hedda could not decide why the conflict in his green gaze was so compelling, but by the gods, she loved to see it!
All the day, she'd carried a sense of self-disgust over how she'd ridden upon him. Then she'd been confronted by Grethe and Frida, each looking far too pleased with themselves in a flustered, girlish way.
It was too sickening.
She'd wager they were both cavorting with the men under their roofs and thinking they were in love as a result.
Well, there was no chance of her losing her head in that way!
The cur before her might have to be endured, but it would be entirely on her terms, and she'd make what use she liked of him.
As for Elin asserting that she needed to inspect his head wound, Hedda had firmly squashed that idea. Her quarters were private, and Elin would feel her wrath if she dared set foot in them without permission.
"You can use that tongue for its true purpose, I suppose?" Her mocking tone drew his focus back to her face.
"I've had no complaints." He stared back in defiance.
"Good." She doubted how often a man with such self-importance would have ceded to the sensual act.
Not often enough.
With her foot pressed into his shoulder, she tugged upon his hair, bringing his mouth level with her sex. The heat of his breath tickled her sensitive flesh, and for one long moment, their gazes locked. Hedda could tell he wanted her. His swollen organ revealed as much, but still, resistance flashed in his eyes.
I'll conquer that!
"Show. Me." Spreading her lips with her fingers, she displayed herself to him.
"I shall wolf you, wench." He spat the words. "And earn my meal."
The brute lunged forward, straining at his bonds. As his face buried between her legs, she was caught off guard. He closed directly upon where her pulse throbbed, claiming it in one greedy mouthful. She gasped at the ferocity of it. Like a babe at the teat, he suckled the tight nub.
With her fingers tangled in his mane, she rode him, unable to contain her moans as his saliva joined with her wetness.
"By Freyja's hand!" She fisted his copper mane. "Give me what I seek."
He drew back to lick the fierce knot in a circular motion, and she felt the first warning, a rushing ache. She arched, giving herself over to his worshipping, relentless tongue.
Bringing her hand to her breast, she pinched her nipple while his slippery caress pushed her toward her peak. Bathed in heat and bliss, she knew only the terrible need to have him lick and tease her where all sensation centered. The intensity was almost more than she could bear.
The waves swept over her while his mouth continued to devour. Tumbled like a boat tossed upon the sea, she was dragged to the depths before being hoisted again. Were it not for her grip upon his head, her trembling body would have folded beneath the powerful deliverance.
When she finally removed her heel, she gazed upon his still-moist lips. He hadn't been lying. He had a capable tongue; her juices upon his face bore evidence to that—and the continuing tremors which yet shivered her flesh.
"You've had your satisfaction." He gestured to his shaft, its bobbing dance an indication of its own desire. "What of mine?"
Despite the soaring heights he'd given her, she'd be granting no such indulgence. It was a lesson she was prepared to teach him as many times as was necessary.
"Be thankful for whatever I offer." Her tone was scornful as she stalked over to the platter. Finding a long shawl, she draped it around her shoulders, then selected some of the bread. "You are, I assume, still hungry?"
He eyed the food. "I'd say I merit feeding after taking you to the gods."
Pulling the crust apart, Hedda took half and chewed idly. He'd earned the repast, but pridefulness would not be rewarded. She waved the remainder just out of his reach.
"You shall share my meal just as soon as you beg me for the honor."
"You've goaded me for hours, wench." His resentful expression was nearly as delightful as her climax had been. "This is too much."
"Too much?" Ripping the remaining bread in two, she ate another portion. "I was sure you'd relish a bite or two."
Straining against the bonds, he snarled, "I've played your game. Why do you continue to deride me?"
She laughed callously, consuming the final piece of bread. "Because I can, and it amuses me."
"Witch!" His voice was a growl.
"I am but a woman." Returning to the platter, she helped herself to another piece of bread. "But one who does not suffer the foolishness of men."
"You have an obligation to feed me." Her captive seethed. "It's the least I deserve."
She supposed he was right. Hedda would be livid if she'd woken bound and been compelled to plead for her supper, but then she hadn't been foolhardy enough to set sail for foreign shores. The invader would do as he was told.
She dangled the bread before him. "All you must do is beg."
Thunder darkened his gaze. "You shall pay for your impertinence."
His frustration only made her relish her newfound power.
Is this what it's like to be a man? Always so in control?
"I don't believe I shall." She could not contain the curl of her lip. "But I can strengthen your fetters and quiet your mouth if the mood takes me."
"How dare you! You push too far." He continued to glower. "The gods shall see you punished for this."
"Oh, I dare because I am not the one naked in bondage. Now… If. You. Want. To. Eat. Beg." She punctuated the final words, eager to impress upon him the simplicity of her demand. The man needed to eat, but he'd denigrate himself before she'd meet that need.
"Please, may I have the bread?" His expression was dazed, as though he could not believe she'd extracted the words from him. Like all men, he was unused to pleading.
"Call me, Mistress." She toyed with the bread, ready to eat what he thought should be his.
His jaw clenched at her new request.
"Say it or go hungry."
The crease upon his brow deepened, his eyes flashing fire.
"Please, may I have the bread, Mistress?"
She relished his begrudged compliance. "You may, thrall." Briefly hovering the bread over his lips, she then lowered it into his mouth.
"More?" She selected some cheese from the platter.
"You know I want more."
"Then you know what to do to receive it." Lifting the cheese to her own mouth, she bit at the corner.
"Please, may I have the cheese, Mistress?"
The subdued bitterness in his voice, begging for scraps, thrilled her.
"You are fed at my pleasure. Do not forget to thank me."
"Thank you, Mistress." He spoke through clenched teeth.
Clasping his jaw between her thumb and forefinger, she held his chin.
"There." She spoke gently. "I knew you could do it. For as long as you plead, you shall eat, and once the food has gone, we shall find other uses for you."