was naked before this man’s eyes, but it was done and there was no helping it. “I must express the milk from my breasts,” she said, “as my son is not here to take its nourishment.” Her voice was cold and emotionless.
A slow smile lit his face, and moving to stand before her, he clamped his big hands about her waist. Lifting her up, he positioned her so that her breasts hung over his face. Then lowering her slightly, he began to suckle upon her.
It was to Cailin’s mind as great a violation of her body as if he had raped her, which she knew he fully intended to do next. “Don’t!” she cried out, anguished, but it was as if she had never spoken. She writhed desperately, but the mouth on her breast could not be dislodged.
When he had drained the first breast, he looked into her eyes with a smile. “I like the taste,” he told her. “It is said that if a man takes the milk of his lover’s breasts, he is rendered potent beyond any other man.” Then his greedy mouth grasped her other breast and he began suckling hard on it. When he had taken every drop she had to give, he carried her to the bed space and threw her roughly upon the feather bed. She watched horrified as he pulled his clothing off to match her state. “I’ve never had a completely naked woman,” he said.
Cailin attempted to escape the bed space. She was in a total panic. Ragnar laughed uproariously at her efforts. Holding her down with one hand, he climbed atop her, positioning himself upon her breasts. “Open your mouth,” he commanded her, and when she shook her head, refusing, he pinched her nose tightly until, unable to breathe and starting to lose consciousness, Cailin gasped for air. As she did so, he thrust his organ into her mouth. “If you bite,” he warned her, “I will have every tooth in your head pulled out,” and she believed him. “Suckle me, my little fox vixen, as nicely as I suckled you,” he ordered her.
She shook her head in the negative, but he only smiled, and reaching back, found her little jewel with his fingers and began to pinch it cruelly. Cailin cried out with the pain, and beaten, began to comply with his desire.
“Ahh, yes, my little fox vixen,” he groaned as she stirred up his lust. “You’re skilled beyond any I’ve ever known!” His eyes closed with his pleasure.
Cailin stealthily moved her arms back over her head even as she continued to tease her captor with her tongue. One hand began to surreptitiously feel beneath the feather bed in the straw. She moved carefully, slowly, terrified that she might attract his attention to what she was doing. Where was it? Had he found it himself?
“Enough!” roared Ragnar Strongspear, drawing his engorged organ from her mouth. “This randy fellow wants to seek his proper place!” He began to slide himself down her body so he might couple with her.
She couldn’t find it! Cailin’s fingers sought desperately. It had to be there! She must delay him in his intent. “Ohhh, my lord,” she pleaded prettily with him, “Will you not give me a bit of the same pleasure I have given you? Ohh, please! I must have it!”
Laughter rumbled up from his chest. “Then you shall have your desire, my russet-haired little fox vixen! I will not disappoint you!” Yanking her legs apart, he almost dove between them.
Cailin attempted to block the feel of his wet tongue on her flesh. Frantic, she dug into the straw beneath the feather bed, and just when she was certain that he must have found it and removed it earlier, her hand was sliced slightly by the blade she sought. Relief pouring through her, Cailin grasped the weapon, ignoring the pain of her wound. “Ohhh! Ohhh!” she cried, remembering he would expect something of her for his obscene efforts. “Oh, it is good! I am ready for you, my lord!”
Wordless, Ragnar Strongspear positioned himself.
“Ohh, kiss me!” Cailin cried to him, and when he leaned forward to cover her mouth with his, she plunged her knife several times into his back. With a surprised grunt, he rolled off of her onto his back. He was wounded, but not mortally so, she saw. “Bitch!” he growled at her. “You’ll pay for that!”
Cailin quickly straddled him, grasped his head by the hair, and yanking it back, swiftly cut Ragnar