He grips her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I will not let you go.” He releases her and sets the soapy cloth aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, “What happened?”
“I know you hate me.” She shakes her head. “I know you need to parade me around Salt as your captive to justify our war and the Arena.” She licks her lips, focusing on her shriveled hands under the water. “I do not understand how you force yourself to…to touch me.”
He saved her life from the lake—a commendable act. Every other time his hands touched her body, it was to exert his violent vengeance. What was his motivation now? Why bathe her? Why touch her willingly? Why has he not tossed her in the pen with the pigs as Rendel had once done?
Sigvid grabs her chin with his thumb and forefinger. Pulling her face close, he growls, “Who hurt you?”
Avina’s lips tremble, and she tastes the salt from her tears. “Am I not a disgusting pig only good for breeding?” She repeats Rendel’s words, unable to meet Sigvid’s gaze.
“No, you are not.” His eyes narrow. “Who said this to you?”
She wraps her arms under her breasts. “Rendel and his companions. Samson on occasion.” She claps a hand to her mouth and leans over the opposite side of the tub. “I am accustomed to men not faking disdain for my bigger figure. Please, give me the respect as your adversaryand show me mercy. You have no reason to feign interest in my body to keep me as your prize.”
The stool clatters behind him as he jerks to his feet. His piercing gaze holds a venom that does not reach the level of any fury he has shown previously. “That spineless shit excuse of a fucking man! I want to drag his ass from the Abyss and disembowel him slowly again and again in front of you.”
He wags his finger as if scolding the air for causing him to breathe. “And that fuck Samson, he will have the most gruesome death of all. Then I will return to the Abyss just to force his soul back into his body and do it all fucking over! They deserve nothing less.”
He paces, muttering to himself while seeming to swing an invisible axe. Avina sits straight against the ceramic side as she watches, transfixed at the berserker’s boiling rage.
“Nothing about you is worth my disgust, Avina.” He kneels beside the tub and grips the back of her neck. “You are mine and mine alone. Do not ever insult my property or speak ill of your perfect fucking body. Do you know what I see?” His hand plunges under the water, gently caressing the curves of her side. “I see a woman who can withstand my… twisted tastes.” His tongue licks her top lip, causing her to freeze as he licks her bottom lip before withdrawing his touch.
“Your beauty makes the gods envious, Avina.” He stares at her heavy tits just out of the water, and she blushes at the bulge in his pants. “Do you see what your sexy body does to me? I cannot stop myself from fucking you.”
Oh, my Goddess.
“Out.” His mood is tense as he provides her with the softest towel she has ever felt.
He yawns as he returns to the bedroom, leaving her to dry herself before padding after him.
“Thank you, Sigvid. I dearly needed that bath.”For more reason than one.
“I did say I would punish you for running away. Stand over there.” He gestures before sweeping past her and withdrawing something from one of the dressers.
Punishment? Now?
She watches his movements with her heart thundering in her chest. He did threaten her with this. Why did she believe he may have forgotten it?
What classifies as ‘hurting someone’ in Sigvid’s mind? Where does the line between ripping Finn’s chest open and whatever punishment I shall receive fall?
He stares down at her with the rope in his grasp. “Hold your wrists out.” She obeys without a question despite every warning bell in her mind ringing in her ears.
Stoically, he removes the towel and drops it to the ground. With an intent focus, he wraps the rope around her wrists. Once she is snug, he tugs on the rope before tossing the long end over a rafter. She steps backward, worrying her bottom lip as he pulls it taut, forcing her arms to point to the ceiling.
Her tone shakes. “Are you going to kill me?”
Sigvid laughs deeply, raising the hair along the back of her neck. “No, my little Queen, I will not kill you. But I will discipline you.” He says while caressing her spine with his knuckles.
He ties the rope's end to the bedpost, signaling that Avina is at his mercy. The sound of his leather belt sliding through the loops of his trousers has her twisting against the restraint.
She has a hint of what is about to happen. Part of Avina trembles in terror, knowing Sigvid’s beast side is often destructive. Yet, another darker piece yearns for the prospect of his sinister actions, which awakes something deep within her core.
His fingers trail across her neck and down across her breasts. She moans as they explore her curves, making her shiver before stopping on her clitoris. He rubs her bundle of nerves while she moans, her pleasure sounds reaching the high ceiling.
Suddenly, his touch ceases. Avina hears him step away, and all of a sudden, the belt cuts through the air and hits her backside with a loud snap.
She screams, tears filling her eyes from the sudden pain. As quick as the sting sears her tender flesh, it evaporates into a dull ache.
“How did that feel?” He asks in a calm, collected tone.
