Page 17 of Ravager
He grinned, pleased at my discomfort. “I am saying this in jest, my beauty.” He turned his smile to Erik. “I bet the longer she spends with you, the more she’ll develop your sense of humor, Erik.”
With a brief shake of his head, he turned away from us and faced the Vikings. He began yelling at them in Norse, commands I couldn’t understand, except that the men looked very happy and excited at them. No, excited was the wrong word. They looked crazy, with leering smiles and wild eyes, cheers roaring out of their throats. The noise in the room rose to uncomfortable levels.
Rolf then barked something else, and every one of them took off, running in different directions. I watched them, feeling like a panicked bird in a cage. Rolf said a few more things to Erik and stormed off into the rest of the manor, his black hair flowing behind him.
Erik’s grip loosened, and I turned to face him, a knot of worry on his brow slowly disappearing.
“What is happening?”
“He told them of our plans for Saint Martin. We’ll be on the move very shortly.”
“Are you…are you going to kill everyone in that village too?” I asked with wide eyes.
He smiled grimly. “Not everyone.”
“And you can’t just leave me here?”
He licked his lips quickly and avoided my pleading look. “No, I cannot. It is too late for that now. Rolf likes you. And so you’re one of us.”
“I’ll never be one of you.”
“Oh, Cherine, I do hope you’re right.” He tugged me forward. “Come along. We must find our horse for the journey.”
Sometime later, Erik was hoisting me on top of a massive dapple-grey Percheron and mounting right behind me. Though I protested that I knew how to get on a horse, I was still weak from the days spent underground, and Erik wouldn’t have any of it.
He placed me right in front of him, his crotch pressed hard against the swell of my buttocks. I held onto the gelding’s thick mane to steady myself while Erik wrapped one strong arm around my middle.
His mouth was right at my ear, and he murmured into it, “Are you comfortable?”
I was a little too comfortable. I swallowed and nodded, my fingers entwined further into the mane.
Erik clucked to the magnificent horse and steered it out of the Lord’s livery to the lane where the Vikings had gathered. There looked to be about fifty of them in total. There hadn’t been enough horses at the estate to carry all the men, so some were walking, while others were perched on the edges of carts loaded with stolen paintings, priceless artifacts, heavy jewels, and a generous helping of food and wine. The Vikings had robbed the port village of Criolium bare, only leaving behind a handfulof men who promised to watch the boats and keep the manor under their command.
“Come ride with me,” Rolf boomed, waving at Erik and me to join him at the very front of the cavalcade. This time, he wasn’t walking, as Rolf had found himself a large Shire horse tall and broad enough to carry his build, even though he had to ride it bareback.
Together, we rode down the country lane with the procession of warriors behind us. Rolf sat like an emperor on his steed, his eyes focused straight ahead. I thought he would have been watching the hills or the dusty bushes that lined the road for any rogue Frenchmen, but Rolf seemed completely confident that we wouldn’t be attacked.
I tried to look behind me to see if maybe the men closest to us were at the ready, but I forgot Erik’s face was right there, and his lips accidentally brushed against my cheek.
I blushed and turned away. When I realized how silly I was to blush, the heat in my cheeks increased even more.
The three of us lapsed into silence while the men behind us rattled on in Norse. There were occasional cheers, and every now and then, someone would laugh, but because it was all in a language I didn’t understand, it faded into the background. After a while, I let go of the mane and settled back into Erik’s firm chest, secure in my position. He kept his arm tight across my middle, giving me just enough room to breathe as we rocked against each other with each hoof-beat.
With my legs spread in the saddle and his hands so close to my loins, I couldn’t help but let my thoughts drift to that morning. I had been deathly scared when Erik first tied me to the chair. Despite his assurance that he would not hurt me, I hadn’t believed him. I thought it was so easy to be fooled by a man who had brought me food, water, and clothes, even while I was being kept against my will. No matter how considerate Erikseemed to be at times, I still didn’t know him well, and what I did know was that he was a ruthless warrior who had a part in killing everyone I loved.
Well, perhaps “loved” was too strong of a word. Everyone I knew. Even though I was never close to my family, except possibly Odette, and even that relationship had its complications, they were still my family, the only thing I could really claim for myself. Now, they were all dead, and I could claim nothing. I was only a peasant girl being taken for a ride.
Still, the ride hadn’t been without its pleasures. When I realized Erik wasn’t going to hurt me, I learned to give into the sensation. Erik’s fingers, and later his tongue, gave me everything I had ever wanted from Marc but had failed to get. That epic release made my soul feel as if it were being freed, spilling out like feathers from a split pillow. The build-up of pressure, of the years of curiosity and yearning, had been too much for me to ignore.
But why had he done it? Why give me such pleasure only to do the same to himself? Why didn’t he just take me like most men in his situation would? I didn’t have any answers; I just hoped I’d have another chance.
Even now, with his hand so warm and masculine against my flat stomach, I couldn’t help but want his fingers to dip lower. I thought about him reaching down and subtly folding up the edges of my fine dress, stroking along my cleft in rhythm with the horse’s walk. I wanted to see what it would feel like to grow wet and swollen again from his nuanced pressure. I wanted to feel the spread of his long fingers plunging inside me.
Yet, for all I wanted it, Erik did no such thing. He kept his eyes forward and his arm tight, and we rode together toward Saint Martin.
Chapter 10
Erik