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This was a game to you. You enjoyed rattling his bones and forcing his hand to move in blind anger against someone else. It was just a matter of who could push the game that much further. You were arranging to move your pieces along the board tonight.
"Should you be so close? He's watching." Bjorn says as he raises his drink to his parched lips. His drink spills down his firm chest when he feels your feminine hands crossing the expanse of his trousers. Despite your warrior's heart, your touch is soft and caring of him. He pulls the ale away and bends his head down.
"So let him watch." You whisper against the shell of his ear. At the end of your statement, your moist tongue outlines the shell of his ear. His eyes turn up across the table to catch the flicker of his brother's sharpened icy blue eyes daring him to muse your ministrations further. Bjorn didn't want to but your confidence was enticing. Your hand slides down along the outline of his swollen cock restrained by heavy fabric. Once again he brought his ale to his lips, and finally his ale slides down his throat in a few forced gulps.
"But you are his," Bjorn protests. Your hand clasps around his excited cock. Your hand drifts up and down his length with a kiss gently set against his upper arm. His eyes catch the heavy glower of his brother, whom rakes the table with his nails kicking up shreds. Although he speaks to Ubbe, his full attention falls onto the scene you incite. His chest raises and falls quickly as if he was a volcano ready to erupt. You turn to face Ivar.
"Am I?" You look to Ivar for his answer. He lurches forward over the table, exhaling air quickly out of his nostrils in his contained rage. His voice falls deep and low.
"You know you are." He hisses. At that, you smile knowingly.
