She backed to her tiny cot, reached behind her, and found her drying sheet on the bedside stand. Hessa offered it to him. Now that he was here in her small space, she realized just how gigantic he was. He took the fabric and unfolded it, hunger in his eyes.
“You are my lady now.” He came forward and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I will care for you for the rest of my days.” He dried her neck and tugged at the laces on her clothes. Her shift fell away. Gunnar patted her shoulders, following the cloth with his lips.
She closed her eyes. Every gentle stroke of fabric across her cool, moist skin brought her a feeling of peace and bliss. Each well placed kiss let her believe that someone could love her and want her. He dried her entire body, at some times brushing his bare cheek across her skin, but mostly kissing her until she stood naked and pleasantly warmed from his attentions. Only then did he strip away the loincloth he wore to reveal not only his arousal, but intricate tattoo work across his hips.
“The mark of my family,” he explained. Gunnar touched the brand on Hessa’s neck and traced it with his fingers. “If you want it, I can make my mark upon you as well. It will tell the world that you are of my clan, not of this Omi House that keeps slaves.”
She nodded. If the mark of the Omi was gone from her body or changed enough that no one could know she belonged to them, then she could be free. She could leave this place and go anywhere in Radaeh. “Will it hurt?”
“I will make it gently.” He smiled at her and ran the drying cloth over his body. “When we leave this city, I will mix the dyes and find a needle to change what they have done to you.”
She shivered with anticipation and hope. He took up the blanket from her cot and wrapped it around her. “Sleep in my arms for a time, Hessa. I’ve longed to hold you close to me.” He pulled her down onto the cot, curling his massive body against hers until she was enclosed in his strong arms and cradled by his heat and strength. His lips brushed her forehead. “When we reach Chalois I’ll take you to the islands, show you all the wonders of my homeland. The wind will know you are mine when I sing its name.”
She breathed in time with him until she slipped into dreams of water that spread across the horizon as far as she could see. There would be great monsters in the sea she rode upon. But his ship would keep her safe. He would protect her from anything that might do her harm.
Gunnar’s warm fingers trailed across her skin when a hint of sunlight began to light up Hessa’s small room. She lay still and kept silent, curious to discover what he would do to her. He drew symbols over her abdomen, circled her navel, and dipped lower to curl his fingers into the hairs at the apex of her legs. He massaged her body with slow strokes and began to hum. His low voice was beside her ear, his lips soft against the lobe. She arched her back when his fingers dipped lower to slip into her slit. Moisture pooled there, guiding his seduction. She moaned when his index finger brushed over her clit, firing off her nerves.
He groaned in her hair and stopped humming. His teeth nipped at her earlobe. Gunnar’s tongue darted out to tease and tickle her skin. “It is a beautiful morning,” he whispered. “To wake alongside your body.”
Goose bumps prickled her skin. His words tickled even more than his tongue had. She shivered and smiled.
“My bed isn’t so cold with you in it.”
He laughed softly. “Nor does it have as much room now.”
His fingers rubbed a little faster, slipping up and down over her hardening nub. She squirmed. He pressed against her ass, his cock demanding at her backside. He nibbled her neck, kissing and sucking until she closed her eyes and gave in to whatever he would do. Her body became tense, hot, as if she had a fever. Hessa did her best to hold still, to concentrate on the rush of sensations placating her womanhood. He pushed his other hand between their bodies, between her legs and tested her opening.
She whimpered.
He slid one finger into her tight wetness. She thought it felt so huge inside of her, motionless, filling her up as she had never been. His other hand continued to tease and torture her. With a shuddering cry that forced her to bite at her bottom lip, she felt everything inside of her implode. A wave of pulses shot off in her womb, ticklish to the point of being unbearable, but so pleasurable she lost herself in the bliss of it all.
The finger inside her pushed in even further, then tapped at her insides. Another wave of sensations swept through her. She clenched her teeth and held her breath. She knew she must be quiet. If anyone heard her, they might come to investigate. Then he would be discovered.
“That’s it,” he said. “Breathe, Hessa. Let it out.”
She took in a deep breath and exhaled, her body, her legs quaking from what he had done to her. His finger pulled out, leaving her empty. Then he positioned her body, turning her face to the grass stuffed mattress, bending her knees so that her backside faced him. The thick, round head of his cock slid up and down along her slit, once, twice, three times. He guided it down to her clitoris, already so sensitive from what he had done, then to her entry where he circled and pushed in a small amount. This part of him was bigger than his finger had been.
“Breathe,” he told her again. “Relax.”
She did as he commanded. His length pushed into her achingly slow, stretching her to accommodate his girth. And even that felt good. She scooted back to take more of him. He took hold of her hips and began a quick thrusted dance. Deep into her he pressed, then out, then in. His body slapped against hers. The cot creaked faster and faster.
She fisted the mattress hard and gasped. His hand swept beneath her body to her abdomen and he began to pound her pussy, burying himself deeper and deeper until she thought she might be torn in two.
He groaned behind her and grunted. She felt a flood of hot moisture erupt inside her body. Gunnar stilled, his cock still penetrating her. She was afraid to move when the orgasm hit her body. This one was not as strong as the first. Hessa felt exhausted. Sweat beaded her body. He thrust one final time, filling her. Then he withdrew from her body completely, leaving her to collapse on the cot. She lay there, struggling to catch her breath.
Hessa was vaguely aware of him moving through the small room, of the splash of water in her washbasin, of the sounds of fabric being pulled together. The cot strained and creaked before she felt the shock of a cold, moist cloth come between her legs.
“Your maiden’s blood,” he said in a soothing voice. “I shouldn’t have been so rough.” He lay down beside her and kissed her shoulder, gathering her backward against his body.
“That was…not as I expected it would be,” she whispered. “So powerful.”
She felt his cheek rise on her shoulder as he smiled. “But I should have waited. It was wrong of me to take you like that.”
She turned in his arms and looked up into his dark eyes. “Will it always be that way when you take me?”
He frowned for a moment, pondering her question. “First times are not always like this. I hope it will be something you look back on without regret. Did I hurt you?”
Her body did feel sore, but not in a bad way. Timidly, she dared to say, “You can hurt me this way again. As many times as you like.” He smiled at that. Heat rushed to her face. As much as she had longed to do this with him, she didn’t think it would make her feel this way. Her body was tingling; her mind was clear and free of worries. She felt at peace with herself, and a part of something other than Omi House.