Page 74 of A Tale of Two Vikings

“Are ye comin’ or not? It’s past my bedtime, and Lars is waitin’ fer me in the furs. Expectin’ a second swive, I ’spect.”

He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting even a first swive with her. “Yea, I am coming,” he said. He was too intrigued by the possibility—remote as it was—that Esme wanted something more from him. After all, her last words to him had been, “You will pay.” But it was understandable, really. He had always had a way with women. She wanted him, pure and simple. It was the only explanation.

He couldn’t wait.

Caught in the spider’s web…

Toste made his way clumsily down the path, lit only by the torch the old crone carried before him. He shouldn’t have drunk so much mead, especially on the eve of a journey.

If he’d known the woodcutter’s hut was this far from the keep, he never would have come. Well, actually, he would have. His curiosity had always been stronger than his good sense.

When they finally arrived and he saw light seeping through the shuttered window openings and smoke coming through a hole in the roof, he breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t one of Tykir’s jokes, as he’d begun to suspect.

The slattern opened the door for him, shoved him inside, then slammed the door after him. He could swear he heard a lock click into place, but he was probably mistaken.

The single room was dark, except for the hearth fire. When he accustomed himself to the dim light, he saw Esme, and he relaxed with a grin.

She wore a gossamer-thin bed rail. Backlit by the fire, the outline of her nude body underneath the rail could be seen as clear as day.

He stepped forward and began to reach for her.

She danced away. “Nay, Toste. Do not be so anxious. Take off your clothing first.”

Take off my clothing? Whoa! We are moving a bit fast here, aren’t we, my lady? But Toste was not dumb enough to speak those words of caution. “I thought you were angry with me,” he said even as he began to disrobe.

“I am, but I find that other emotions inside me are even stronger.” She put a palm against her stomach as if to indicate where those stronger emotions were located.

His cock, which had already raised its head with interest at the vision of Esme in the see-through garment, now came to full attention. He’d treated her badly earlier tonight, when he’d implied that if she would do such and such he would not leave. Mayhap he would be able to make it up to her now.

When he was fully naked and she gawked at him as if a trifle frightened—as well she should be—she said something that entirely destroyed the impression of naivete. “Toste…uhm…would you mind if I tied you to the bed?”

Not only was he shocked but his precious manpart was shocked, too. Why else would blue veins be standing out on it as if it were going to explode? “Why?” he asked her, once he pulled his gaping jaw off the floor. That has to be the dumbest thing I have ever said.

“Because I am rather shy…and this is my first time…and, well, I would feel better if I could explore your body first…and…oh, I suppose it was a bad idea.”

“Nay, nay, I didn’t say that. But you don’t have to restrain me to explore my body, dearling.” I wonder if I am in a drunken stupor and imagining all this.

“Oh, you say that now, but if I touch you in the wrong way—or the right way—you might be tempted to…never mind.”

Tempted? I am so tempted, lady, that my thickening is about to explode. “Nay, we will do it your way,” he said quickly afore she changed her mind. He made his way toward the pallet in the corner and was disconcerted, but only for a moment, to see soft cloth strips hanging from each of the four bedposts. She had been prepared for his yielding. Ah, well, he would make her yield much more by morning. He lay down and submitted each of his limbs for her to tie, which she did with surprisingly strong and secure knots.

Then she stepped back from the pallet and said, “Do not be angry, Toste.”

“Why should I be angry?” Understanding came to him of a sudden. A trick! He had been tricked. He fought mightily against his restraints, to no avail. “Can I assume there will be no tupping tonight?”

She nodded.

“Do not do this, Esme. You have no idea what the consequences will be. I have killed men for much less.”

“You forced me to it. Agree to my plan, give your word of honor, and I will release you right now.”

He told her to do something vulgar to herself.

She winced but did not back down. When he continued to glower at her, she walked closer, tied a thin strip across his mouth to prevent his yelling, and pulled a fur pelt up over his body against the chill which was sure to fill the hut in the coming hours.

“I will check on you in the morning,” she said after covering herself with a cloak and slipping her feet into leather shoes. To her credit, her expression was filled with sadness. Then she left. Just like that. She left.

Silence filled the hut, and Toste shook his mead-fuzzy head. He could not believe what had just happened. A part of him admired Esme for her daring in pulling off such a trick. But a bigger part of him was blood-boiling angry.