The Slave

She almost let out a laugh.

"What is funny?" he demanded to know.

She blushed profoundly.

"Oh no, sir, nothing. I remembered me saying that I would never enjoy this!"

He took her face in his hands.

"I told you my name, don't call me sir. Do you understand?"

She nodded. She did.

"But, sir, um... Lars, I am not allowed to call you anything else but Sir around here."

He seemed skeptical.

"When we make love you can call me however I please. Are we clear?"

Yeah, he was clear. Lars.

"Are you comfortable with me inside you? Did you like it?"

Her eyes sparkled. Rebecca put her arms around his neck and gave him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"I have never felt like this before..."

"Lars... why hadn't I felt it? Do men feel it all the time? Will I feel it again in my life? Is this what married couples do every night?"

He laughed, softly and thoughtfully.

"Yes, men feel it every time and show it by their cum but it's not every time or every woman equally good. And, yes, married couples do it every night or day but they have to be in love to fully enjoy."

And he added, "Would you like to feel it again? With me?"

"I would if you would, I mean yes, yes" she replied cheerfully and blushed once more.

He knew she was tired but he couldn't rest before he would make her body writhe from an orgasm once more.

Lars moved his lips over the soft skin of her breasts, the curves that fit in his hands and over the nipples that reacted to his presence. He saw her breathing on the quivering of her chest and licked his way around the pink areolas.

He felt her hands on his hair, caressing and pulling; he could control her reactions by his licking.

Lars looked into her eyes and decisively entered her to her depth, in one move, feeling her walls giving in to his hard cock. Couldn't be better.

He moved inside her and made her moan and talked to her in her own language; he even made out his name among her words.

Lars was taking her slowly but hard enough to make them both sweat.

When it was all too much to handle, Lars grabbed her waist with one hand and her shoulder with the other and guided her to roll over. Rebecca smiled. She started moving and squeezing him at the times he pulled out, looking onto his eyes all the time.

Her lips reluctantly came closer to his. She kissed him. As simple as that. He kissed back harder.

Then their lovemaking was a blur of kisses, names, whispers, thrusts, moans and losing themselves forgetting the environment.

When he felt she was ready for him, he raised her waist and asked "Rebecca?"

With an urgent and sweet smile she nodded yes and as they both came melting in each other, he heard his name on her lips repetitively. Lars, Lars, Lars...

When Lars got his breath back, he saw her lips still trembling.

"How long have you been here Rebecca?"

"I can't really tell... all days are the same and I have been passed out a lot, but definitely less than a week."

Then she began telling him how her ship was thrown at these waters and the men that took the women there while slaughtering the men, how her parents in the southern byzantine would worry and how cruel and short her life seemed.

While Lars was listening to her he was wondering if he should carry out the idea that had formed in his mind when he was making love to her, not like she was a whore but like she was his woman. Was it only lust, a delicious lust that had this effect on him or it was something else, the thing you feel when you want to be with the other person as one?

"Come with me Rebecca."

She stopped mid-sentence and paused caressing his hand.

"Come? Where? I... I am a slave here, I can't leave..." replied blushing and overwhelmed by the truth of her words.

"I will buy you or elope you. Would you come with me then? My country is cold and I have other women in my house but none of them has touched me the way you do."

Instead of an answer she wrapped her hands around his neck, her breasts crushing on him and her kisses real and warm on his skin. Yes, she would come. To the end of the world. To the end of love. To the end of... what was called what she felt? Lars laughed. Orgasm.

"To the end of my orgasms!"

"Tonight, when all go to sleep, you will come out and come to the rocks above the shore where the ships are. All right my love?"

Rebecca couldn't talk. Yes. She would be there. But she had to leave now. She had stayed much longer than usual.

She tried to cover herself with the remains of her dress while a guard was called to pick her up.

She tried not to show her exhilaration to Angelica. She had her bath, her scrubbing, her oiling and took her place on the hard bed. She was so tired... But, no, at the time she should, she stood up and left, taking only a blanket with her.

Rebecca reached the rocks and sat there in the shadows, waiting.

Her heart was beating fast, anticipating to see the face of her Viking lover again.

The night was sweet and kind of warm and she was so tired....

She lay the blanket down and rolled the rest on her.

The waiting took longer than her body or soul could take and her eyelids closed momentarily.

She felt two strong, determined hands lifting her up from her waist, along with her blanket and a soft yet clear enough "Don't make a sound."

She stayed like that, hearing rustling sounds of swords and angry words of unknown languages.

His voice and struggle were vibrating to her, she felt running, holding and jumping. She felt fight, shouts and then a wooden floor.

Lars opened the blanket, revealing a flushed face. Her face.

"I am here. We are going home. Nothing to worry about from now on."

"You kept your promise."

"I kept my promise."

"I think I love you."

"I know I love you."