Chapter 8: Chapter 8

KENDRA

I’d never experienced anything like this before. Not even with my husband, poor excuse for one that he was. He was an old, sickly man who had bought me from my brother. All I did was cook and clean for him until he passed away a year after our wedding. Fjorn was the first man to ever touch me.

His hands cradled my breasts, squeezing them gently as he kissed and sucked on my neck. He moved slowly down to my collarbone, pausing only for a moment before pulling my dress down to expose my shoulders.

“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured, sending a shiver down my spine. I rolled my hips into him, eliciting a low growl from him.

I craved more. As he pulled my dress down a little further, I could feel myself getting wetter. My nipples almost spilled out of my dress as his lips traced the curves of my breasts like a soft whisper.

He rolled me onto my back, continuing to kiss me. His hand slid up my dress, caressing my thigh. My body felt hot, and it was almost hard to breathe. His hand moved higher, resting on my inner thigh. I reached for his hand, letting out a small whimper.

He pulled away, looking into my eyes. “I’ll stop if you ask me to,” he said, starting to pull his hand away. I held it in place, whispering the only thing I could. “More.”

With a knowing nod, he pushed his hand higher, spreading my lower lips open. I closed my eyes, my body tensing in anticipation. He gently lifted my chin with his free hand.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to watch your face.”

I opened my eyes, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me, but I nodded silently as I nervously bit my lip. A deep moan escaped his throat as he gazed down at me. His fingers slowly slipped to the opening of my core, making me arch my back. I turned my head, but he pulled it back to face him.

“I won’t tell you again. Don’t look away,” he said, his voice desperate.

His large finger moved up to my aching clit, making me moan loudly. He quickly covered my mouth with his hand. “You don’t want everyone to know what we’re doing, do you?” I shook my head, and he removed his hand from my mouth.

He began to rub my sensitive clit in small circles. My body shuddered and jolted from his touch. He tugged the top of my dress down, fully exposing my breasts. Taking one of my nipples into his mouth, I gasped loudly, making him chuckle.

I felt the muscles in my core tighten as I arched my hip into his hand. He leaned down, his lips resting on my ear. His breath was hot on my skin. “Does that feel good?” he whispered.

I nodded, struggling to remember how to breathe. My body started to shake, and my mind went blank.

“I want you to say it. I want you to tell me how good my fingers make your wet pussy feel,” he said, nibbling my ear.

Panting, trying to hold myself together, I gripped his arm. “Fjorn,” I whimpered.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he urged, rubbing my clit a little quicker.

“It’s so good,” I moaned, gasping for air.

He began licking my neck and biting down hard—not enough to truly hurt, but enough that I wouldn’t forget it anytime soon. That last bit of pain and pleasure pushed me over the edge. My senses overwhelmed, I buried my face in his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath my lips as I reached ecstasy. He slowed down the circles until I stopped shaking and the overwhelming feelings subsided.

Pulling his hand away, he licked his finger. “You’re delicious. Maybe I should go in for a proper taste,” he said, making me blush.

As he pulled on my legs, ready to get that taste he wanted so badly, a deep voice shattered the intimate bubble around us. “Fjorn! Time to leave.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, but I could see the anger on Fjorn’s face at being interrupted. He turned to me, pressing his lips to mine, and his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss. His tongue slid across my lips, demanding entrance, and I opened for him, enjoying the sensation of each stroke as his tongue plunged deep into my mouth.

“Fjorn!” the man yelled again.

“All right, we’re coming!” Fjorn yelled back before kissing me one more time. He pulled my dress back into place before throwing a fur over me.

“Well, maybe one more fur,” he said, looking down at me.

“No! I’m fine. Go before he comes in here,” I said, chuckling. He stood, kissing my hand, and with a wink, he walked outside.

Lying there, I felt my cheeks flush, and I giggled to myself. That was nothing like I thought it would be. ~He~ was nothing like I thought he would be. Still smiling, I fixed my dress before walking outside.

All the tents, save Fjorn’s, were gone, and men were picking things up and stomping out fires. In a few minutes, it would look as though they had never been there.

I wandered around what was left of the camp, trying not to get in the way, when I heard a scoff. Turning around, I saw a woman with blue paint on her face and long blonde braided hair. She looked angry. She spat at my feet.

“Hey! What’s your problem?” I asked, jumping back.

She stepped closer and pushed me to the ground. Squatting next to me, she got in my face. “Fucking kunta! You shouldn’t be here!” she barked, giving me a dirty look.

“I’m sorry?” I said, rising on my elbows. I didn’t understand what I had done to upset her.

“You should have been left where he found you. Once he tires of this little game with you, everything will go back to the way it should be,” she said, pushing against my shoulder as she rose to her feet and shoving my upper body back to the ground. She smiled down at me before walking away.

Rising to my feet, I tried to dust off the mud from my dress. I jumped when a hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me against a hard chest. I tensed.

“What happened?” Fjorn asked, bending slightly to rest his chin on my shoulder.

Pulling away from him, I crossed my arms. “Your wife doesn’t like me much,” I said bluntly.

“My what?” he said, his voice laced with confusion as he took a step toward me.

I turned away from him. “I get it now,” I said. “I’m just a fun toy for you to play with.”

I should have known better. He ~took~ me! Why would he want me for anything more than a distraction? He would probably sell me just like my brother did. I walked away from him then, but I had nowhere to go.

I thought about making my way to the manor house again. I was sure I could find it, but I wasn’t sure if I would meet with better circumstances. I knew I could probably find my way back to the village, but nothing remained but devastation.

I ended up walking beside the cart, my head lowered and my thoughts grim. Fjorn found me easily and walked beside me. He didn’t say anything, and I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to talk to him, and I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. But—having no alternatives—what else could I do but follow him?