Page 54 of Down and Dirty

Raising up on one elbow, she saw the sky was still black outside. And she saw Zachary by the light of a half moon pulling on a pair of small clothes… black silk ones with red stars imprinted all over. “What’s the matter?” she asked, yawning widely.

“I’m just gonna check on Sammy. Go back to sleep.”

Which she did, promptly. It had been a very hard, sleep-deprived week, and this might be her only opportunity to catch up. Of course, she thought with a smile, all that bedplay might give her body better satisfaction than any slumber.

It was still the middle of the night when she awakened again, but a stream of light came from an almost-closed closet. This time she found herself at the bottom of the bed, her bare feet on the floor, and Zachary kneeling betwixt her spread thighs.

“Eek!” she squealed and tried to rise up and shove the lout away.

“Go back to sleep, Britta. I just want to check a few things out.”

“Hah! Like I could sleep with you sniffing at my nether parts!”

“What is it with you and sniffing? I am not sniffing. I’m getting ready to taste.” He wagged his tongue at her, then dipped down to lick her there.

“Nay, nay, nay!” she screeched.

“Shhhh. You’ll wake Sammy. And you wouldn’t want him to see you like this, would you?”

She held her tongue but still tried to shove him away.

He put a palm on her belly and held her fast.

“Relax, sweetie. You’ll like this. I promise.”

“This has got to be depraved. Is it depraved?”

“Nah! Oh, Britta! What is this scar here?” He used a forefinger to trace the white line that she knew was visible on her inner thigh, high up. She tried to close her legs, but he wouldn’t allow that. “Tell me,” he insisted.

“My brother Erlend did it.”

He sucked in a breath, his outrage visible. “Did he rape you?”

She shook her head. “Nay. He wanted me to display my nether parts for him and his friends.”

His upper lip curled with disgust. “How old were you?”

“Eight. Erlend was twelve.”

“No wonder you needed to leave home.”

“I was too young then, but when I was eleven, Halvdan did attempt rape.”

“Another brother?”

“Yea. That was when I went to our castellan, begging for fighting skills. Halvdan ne’er tried again, I tell you that.”

He nodded.

“The final indignity came from my father, who gave consent to a Danish jarl for rape as an incentive to force me to wed, a rape I managed to evade.”

“The bastards! What did your father do about that?”

“A fist to my chin. Nigh knocked me out. My jaw still aches on occasion, a lifelong reminder of his rage, as he intended.” She saw the expression on his face and added, “Do not pity me. I survived.”

“That wasn’t pity, babe. It was admiration.” He leaned down and kissed the scar.

She sucked in air and tried to push him away. “Let me up.”