The Viking's Captive(57)

She decided not to think about the ‘what-if’s’ and the poisonous mushrooms. It was too frightening. Instead she vowed never to collect mushrooms from that spot again, and to always show Halvor anything she did forage before even taking it into the longhouse.

“You did so well,” he whispered, “taking the belt for all those strikes.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“But I’m sorry I had to do it, wife.”

“I understand why you did, and I wanted you to, after I’d realized how dangerous my actions had been.”

“I’m glad you understand.” He tipped her chin with the crook of his finger. “I hope it won’t happen again. I do not wish to have poison in my meal.”

“I promise it won’t, ever. If anything happened to you I don’t know what I’d do.” Her eyes filled with tears; as was often the case after a spanking, she was emotional and she didn’t try to hide it these days.

“Shh, shh, nothing is going to happen to me. We’re safe here and we have everything we need.”

“It’s you I need the most.”

He smiled and kissed her gently. “And it is you I need the most.” He wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “No more crying. It’s a beautiful day outside, perhaps we should take bread and cheese and go to the lake.”

“For a swim?” She hoped he’d say yes. They’d swum several times in the lake together, naked, and although it was cold it had improved over the warm months. The coolness would also be pleasant on her hot ass.

“It may be the last swim of the summer, the winter will be upon us in another moon, and we still have harvesting to do.”

“I understand.” She smiled suddenly. “Let’s go. I will prepare the food.”

“Good.” He stood, helping her onto her feet as he went.

Carefully she pulled up her undergarments.

He watched her. “You’ll be able to swim?”

“Yes, of course.” She adjusted her dress so it hung neatly and suppressed the need to wince as it pressed against her buttocks. “It will only take a moment to prepare the food.”

“I have something to attend to first. Do not go alone to the lake.”

“Of course not, Master.”

Twenty minutes later Duna was sitting on the sandy bank of the lake enjoying the bread she’d made the day before. She had butter and cheese and a few crab apples to complete their outdoor meal.

Halvor ate as though he’d never eaten before, taking his fill quickly and efficiently. It never failed to amaze her how much he could eat; her job as his wife, to provide his meals, was not one for the faint of heart.

The distant bleating of their sheep echoed around the hills, the lake shimmered under a cloudless sky, and butterflies and bees went about their chores.

“I’ve had luck with my rabbit snares,” Halvor said, wiping crumbs from his hands, then taking a slug of ale.

“That’s good.”

“But nothing for the one I’d set for boar. I was hoping to catch another one before winter.”

“There are no prints.” Duna gestured to the sand.

“No, there haven’t been for a while. Perhaps they’ve moved on from this area.”

“I’m sure they’ll be back.”

“Yes, and I’ll catch us one.” He raised his head to the sun. “Soon it will be time for us to wear fur every day, and the new leather tunics you’ve made us.”

“The fur boots too,” she said, finishing her meal.

“Aye, and those, but for now, it’s good to feel the sun on my skin.”

She studied his bare chest and wide shoulders. His flesh had turned golden over the summer, and his blond hair had grown in length, sitting now around the base of his neck. She never got bored of looking at the way his muscles moved beneath the surface of his skin, how they bulged, flexed, and danced as he worked.

“Perhaps,” she said, removing her summer boots then standing, “we should feel the sun on all of our bodies, husband.”

He opened one eye and looked up at her. “What do you have in mind, wife?”

“This.” She peeled off her dress and discarded it by the basket she’d used to carry the meal. Next to it lay Halvor’s dagger.

He opened his other eye and let his attention linger on her breasts.

Her nipples tightened, a combination of the light breeze and his interest.

She tucked her fingers into the waistband of her undergarments and pushed them down, exposing the dark hair of her cunny and her pale thighs.

He swallowed and stood. “I believe that’s a very good idea.”

She smiled and turned.

“Odin, give me strength,” he said, blowing out a breath as he stared at her buttocks.

Glancing over her shoulder, she ran her hand over her ass, tracing the raised lines there.

“Duna,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“If you want me, you’ll have to catch me.” She giggled then rushed for the water. In five paces she was up over her knees, and she fell forward, allowing the chill to encase her. It stroked over the welts on her bottom, and slipped between her legs to her cunny.

He laughed. “Wench, come back.”

“No.” She struck out, swimming away from the shore.