Read Online Ragnar & the Slave Girls (Ragnar the Dane) by Lily Byrne - Free Book Online

You stupid woman! What are you doing out after dark?” he scolded, grabbing handfuls of sticks and shoving them into her bundle.
    “ The fire was going out. We needed these.”
    “ But it’s dangerous at night.”
    A wolf howled in the distance so he took the bundle and grabbed her arm, hustling her along.
    “ What will my punishment be?” she mumbled.
    “ Don’t talk, just walk.”
    The wolf howled again, a bit closer and Bjarni speeded up, holding the awkward package of sticks against him.
    They reached the village and the guards dragged them inside, slamming the gate behind them.
    The village lay deserted and silent, then a fox gave an unearthly shriek, making them jump. At last their home loomed, and Bjarni unlatched the door and pushed Ifay through it, so quickly they both tripped. He fell on top of her, wriggling to try and pull the door shut at the same time.
    “ What are you doing?” she gasped.
    “ Trying to get inside,” he panted.
    “ Get inside? Inside what?” She squirmed away from him, eyes wide.
    “ Inside the house, of course. Not inside - anything else.” He couldn’t help eyeing her body beneath him.
    “ You are just the same as all men, so don’t deny it! You just want sex.” She pushed him away and crawled to the chair, stood up and brushed dirt off her dress.
    “ By Odin’s eye!” he shouted, sitting up. “I was just trying to get us to safety quickly, not trying to fuck you. I just tripped!”
    He stormed off towards the other side of the hut.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Tutting, she turned away but couldn’t help smiling a little at his annoyance. Unlike her other owners, who just had sex with her however she protested, she could control this one.
    He turned his back on her, took his boots off and started cleaning them.
    “ You should do that outside," she called, "or you’ll get mud everywhere.”
    Muttering darkly to himself, he strode past, flicking a glance of exasperation at her.
    She smiled even more, aware she played a dangerous game, teasing her master. But inside she knew he could take it. She knew intuitively that he didn’t mind her mischief. It made her warm inside. How long had it been since she’d felt like that? Could she be imagining it? But years of experience told her to trust her senses.
     
    *  *  *
     
    More torches than usual lit the main cavern and the smell of incense filled Saehild’s nostrils. Every rock crevice contained a bunch of burning herbs. But despite the strong scent, she could still detect sweat and the muskier odour of sex.
    “ Sit,” said Ljotr, directing her to a seat carved out of rock but padded with a bearskin.
    The fire burned strongly and the smoke whisked up and out of a natural chimney formed by a fissure in the stone. Little by little her clothes began to stick to her.
    The men sat in two lines on the floor in front of Saehild, Ljotr at her right hand. She’d never seen so many short-haired, beardless men all together, with Ljotr the only remotely Danish-looking one. Even he, however, was far more dark-haired than every other man she knew. How exotic this was.
    “ Bring it in!” he shouted, and two men came in carrying a pole on their shoulders, from which hung a huge dead boar tied by its feet. Its mouth hung open, and congealing blood covered its sides and head, the huge tusks stained and scratched from its death battle.
    They took it near to the fire, lowered it to the floor and pulled out the pole, leaving the creature lying with its feet pointing upwards.
    The men near Saehild leapt into action. Some ran to drums and began to beat out a compulsive rhythm, while the others fought to get nearer the fire, pushing and shoving like beasts. They began to chant, faster and faster, then one with straggly brown hair grabbed a nearby woman and began to fuck her, right near the fire, her blonde hair almost in the flames. The other men laughed and some took other women in whatever position they could, whether they were lying down,