Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
'So tell me, what's the price to pay for glory?'
Hvitserk returned her to the settlement the Viking's were living at. Othelia noted that everything had changed having been here before. "So," she called his bluff as she was pushed into a large room. "Now you have me here, what exactly do you intend to do with me?"
The young man noticed she didn't look as scared as she did when they first caught up with her. He knew Ivar had put a strict rule in place and Othelia didn't think anyone would go against him. Ripping her tiara from her head, he threw it to the ground before he dragged her by the arm through a door. She struggled to keep up, his footsteps were large as he pulled on her.
Throwing her into another room, she took a second to look around at her surroundings as he closed the door behind them. She steadied herself against the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the edge. The room had a large bed pushed against the back wall, the whole room seemed to be dark and had a certain smell to it but Othelia pushed any ill feelings she had to the back of her mind.
"Hvitserk, right?" She said his name catching him out. Control, she needed to be in control. She couldn't be weak, she was here but there had to elements to her capture that she could be in charge of. Taking a few steps towards him, she bit her lip as she reached behind her head and unbuttoned her dress. "Tell me," she pursed her lips together, trying her hardest to be appealing. "Does this make you nervous?"
Pulling down the front of her dress, she let it fall to the ground leaving her only standing in her undergarments. Othelia watched as his eyes roamed her exposed skin yet he still remained by the door. It was like he was scared to make a move.
The Ragnarsson looked at the Princess who was brash and bold. Her skin was so beautiful, a pale colour which he couldn't keep his eyes off. He'd been with many women but none of them had been so forthcoming, most shy about showing their bodies so freely. He had never had a woman that held a status either.
"I've never been with a man before," Othelia told the Viking in front of her as she smiled. "And I can tell from your eyes that you've never been with a woman quite like me."
The young Viking stared at her, the two of them were silent before she closed the gap between them. Her hands gripped his blood-soaked armour, she ignored how it felt on her skin as she pressed her lips against his. Hvitserk took a second then he responded, kissing back as his hands brushed over her back, feeling how smooth she felt until his fingers hit a rough patch.
She jerked away when she felt him touch the scar on her back.
He wanted to look at what made her react that way, but he decided against it given her body language. Othelia ignored the scarring, returning her lips against his as her fingers worked on removing his clothing. Hvitserk helped her, removing his clothes and helping her out of her remaining garments. The two young people stood in front of each other, both of them naked before she pushed him against the door.
She kissed his lips before she slowly moved her lips over his neck. Othelia pulled gently on his skin with her teeth as her hands moved over his body. Her fingers met his hard cock that was waiting for her to take. Wrapping her right hand around it, she slowly began to stroke it as her lips moved down his chest. Her eyes took in the tattoo on his chest as she kissed his bare chest. Looking up at him, she met his eyes before she stood up straight and looked Hvitserk in the eye.
The skin of Hvitserk was not smooth, it was riddled with small scars and tattoos but it didn't put her off. She had never felt a man before but she'd seen the men back home, none of them was like him. Othelia felt alive given the situation. She wanted more, needed more.
Othelia knew she was doing something wrong. She knew that if she got out alive, she would need to take this moment to the grave with her. No man, no Christian would ever take her as his wife if they knew her lips, her hands had touched a Norseman in such a way. Given how far she came, she pressed on. This was something many would dream of, something few would get to do.
